“I like it when you do this.” I spread my legs some, trying not to close my eyes as I imagined it was his fingers there instead of my own. I touched myself like he’d done before, the first time in Houston.
Whispered words told me what he wanted me to do, and I chose to obey. His reaction, the way his face tensed, how he fisted his cock, all I needed to push me closer and closer to the edge.
I came before him, my body convulsing, my eyes wide open as I tried to take in his reaction, wanting to see his release.
It came, he came, pulses of semen coating his stomach and chest, the guttural noise that came from him vibrating through my bones.
We both breathed heavily, looking at each other through the screen as if wondering what the fuck had just happened.
He reached for a T-shirt, or clothing that was nearby, wiping down his torso. “So Saturday. You’re in Manchester.”
I nodded, knowing I needed more right now. I needed his words, reassurance. “Saturday.” I pulled the sheet around me. “This. I haven’t done this before.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t either. Any regrets? I haven’t. I just wish I knew where you were and I could’ve driven over a couple of hours ago.”
I needed to hear that. “No. Will you dream of me?”
His smile was beautiful. “Yes. I will.”
Before I went to sleep my phone pinged with a text.
Ryan: You’re beautiful. I don’t care what job you do either. X
It was probably the kiss at the end that got me.
Maybe this was going to be more than just a hook up.
Siscely Burton was one of my co-stars. She was smaller than me, and curvier. Her character was meant to look dowdy, at least for the first couple of series, before she had her turn in the spotlight as the woman who found love. Siscely was anything but dowdy in real life. She fizzed and sparkled, having one of those magnetic personalities that was illuminated with charisma, and I didn’t know a single person who didn’t love her instantly.
I didn’t want my fellow actors picking up on anything. I’d managed to acquire a reputation as a fairly serious actor, mainly because I’d intersperse stage roles in between movies and TV series, opting for Shakespearean characters such asMuch Ado About Nothing’sHelena, andTwelfth Night’sViola, as well as a stint at the Old Vic in Peter Shaffer’sEquus– nothing prepared you for being naked in front of people like a four month production ofEquus.
Siscely saw me straight away. Her eyes narrowed and her smile grew sly. “You look like you had arestfulnight.”
I shook my head, my air exuding innocence. “I spent the evening in my room.”
She laughed. “There’s a lot you can do in your room. And you have the glow of someone who remembered what it was like to have an orgasm.”
“And you don’t?”
I knew for sure that Siscely was seeing two different men at the moment, both of them completely aware of each other. She didn’t make a big deal of it, assuming it was completely normal to have a lunch date with one, followed by a dinner date with the other, and yes, she did have sex with them both in the same day. She’d told me this after I’d gone months without a sign of an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced.
“It’s been too long. But who’s the lucky man?” She batted her long eyelashes as if she was my therapist enticing me to divulge all my secrets.
“Just a friend with benefits.”
“Ah, so you had some kinky sexting?”
“Along those lines.”
“You go for it, girl. Anything that gives you that shine. Especially with what scenes you’ve got coming up today.”
Today was the day when we were blasting through a number of the sex scenes while we were on location. Two of them were on the steamy side, which was fine, I’d been involved in scenes where I’d been less covered and required to be a lot more – vocal? That was the best way to describe it.
I sighed. I wasn’t in the mood for these scenes together, which was a moot point, because they were being shot and that was that. My character’s love interest was played by an actor I hadn’t worked with before. Gulliver Steed had been cast partly because he was a decent actor, but also because he was going to have most of the female population swooning while he rode shirtless on a horse.
Gully was an alright bloke. He’d slept his way through a touring production of the Rocky Horror Picture Show about three years ago, but was always open about it, and as far as I knew, he’d never made promises he couldn’t keep. The media loved him for having a different woman on his arm every time he made a red-carpet appearance, and the women seemed to tolerate it.
I wasn’t interested in tolerating it. I was quite happy not touching him unless it was scripted, thank you very much, which is what was happening today.
