“We’re rolling,” Gretchen announced, “but you two ease in and take your time.”
“You okay?” I asked Winnie.
She braced herself on my shoulders and looked up from under her pre-mussed curls courtesy of the hair department. “I’m really hoping all my research pays off.”
I cradled her left cheek in my palm just like we’d rehearsed, and she nuzzled into my touch before dipping her head down and parting her lips.
My body lit up, reacting the way it always did to her. Except this wasn’t anything like the kiss at the movie theater. Our tongues danced, but just enough for the camera. I wanted more, and pulled her to me just as she was pulling back for her little choreographed striptease, and our foreheads smacked together.
Winnie let out a softoof.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I gently pressed my fingertips to the site of impact on her head. “Sorry, I just—”
“Medic!” Gretchen called.
“I’m fine,” Winnie told her.
“My bad,” I said. “I got turned around on the choreo.”
Hair and makeup quickly ran up to re-powder both of us and fluff Winnie’s hair.
Winnie motorboated her lips and bounced her shoulders like she was a football player waiting for the coach to put her in.
I waved my arms around and whispered, “This energy is really sexy.”
“I’m trying to hype myself up,” she said.
“Well, you’re definitely hyping me up,” I said, glancing down to my crotch.
She giggled and guided my hand to her cheek before resting her hands on my shoulders.
“Rolling,” Gretchen called.
We ran through all the motions. The kiss, her leaning back as she seductively unbuttoned her dress, and then showing off the luscious lace underneath.
I gripped her waist before letting my hands sweep up her rib cage to cup her breasts.
Don’t get a chub. Don’t get a chub. Don’t get a chub.
Just like we practiced, Winnie leaned forward so that her pillowy chest was right in my face. Winnie wasn’t going topless in the movie, but the bra was sheer, and I had been instructed tolick. Don’t mind if I do.
“Hot,” Winnie said with a gasp.
I couldn’t help but smirk as I traced her cleavage with my tongue. I guessed I wasn’t the only one mixing business with pleasure.
“Smoke,” she said, her voice a little frantic, like she was about to—
“FIRE!” she yelled.
I jerked my head around to see the snow machine in flames. Shit! My whole body went into emergency response mode as I threw Winnie over my shoulder and gunned it out of the sleigh.
Crew members armed with extinguishers swarmed the set as I delivered Winnie to her director’s chair.
She gripped the arms of her chair and just stared at me, her eyes wide and stunned. “I’m sorry but did you just throw me over your shoulder like a bag of potatoes?”
“Umm.” I glanced down to see my belly poking out from my open Santa jacket. “I just... when I was a kid I was really scared of my house burning down, and I always imagined myself throwing the family dog, Coop, over my shoulder as I ran out of a burning building.”
We both glanced over to the snow machine, the flames now contained, but the warehouse was filling with residual smoke.
