“Hel-lo-O. I’m here”
I catch Brandon off guard on the couch reading the trades. While most now read The Hollywood Reporter or Variety online, he still likes to read the daily paper versions. I wonder if it’s because his late father owned a newsstand. He doesn’t know I found that out online. I’ve googled just about everything about him. With my uncanny memory, I’m a walking encyclopedia when it comes to Brandon Taylor.
He looks up and stares at me. Let me rephrase. He eyes me from head to toe. “You look nice.”
Surprised at the compliment, I adjust my skirt. “Thanks.”
“Are you going some place special later?”
“I have a date tonight.” I have no clue what made me say that.
“Oh,” he mutters under his breath. “That guy you went out to lunch with?”
I flash a smile. “Yes.” Well, it’s true.
He knits his brows. “Your boyfriend, right?”
“Yeah.” That’s true, too, depending on how you interpret the word “boyfriend.”
He frowns and I change the subject. “I brought your sides. Two copies like you asked.” I slide them out of the folder I’m holding and hand them to him.
He hands one stapled set back to me. “I need you to rehearse the first scene with me.”
My breath hitches. To be honest, I didn’t pay much attention to his sides. I just hit print and threw them into a folder.
“Sure, no problem.”
“You should study the lines and then we’ll work on them.”
With the sides in hand, I plop down on the leather chair closest to him. I can feel his eyes on me as I read over the scene. I cross my legs to quell the sudden tingly sensation between them.
With every word, my pulse quickens and chest tightens. And I grow heated. It’s one of those flashbacks with Kurt Kussler and his late wife. A love scene. An explicit one that takes place shortly before Alisha is brutally executed by Kurt’s nemesis, The Locust.
“Okay. I know the lines.” My voice falters. The scene is so sensual and moving. I’m fraught with emotion.
Brandon lifts a brow. “So quickly?”
“Yes,” I stutter. “I have an eidetic memory.”
“What’s that?”
“The extraordinary ability to look at anything or anyone and remember everything about them after only a few moments of exposure.”
“Wow. So like a super-memory?”
“You can call it that.” It’s weird that I can remember everything and he can’t remember a thing.
My photographic memory is the reason I’ve never forgotten what Mama’s killer looks like. Even as a five-year old, I was able to explain to the police sketch artist every detail of his face though I only laid eyes on him for a brief moment. And it’s the reason I keep reliving the day of Brandon’s accident. You’d think by now it would be a blur, but every vivid detail fills my mind while every unforgettable emotion sweeps through my veins. The heart has a memory too. His pool of blood…my ocean of tears. The fear and despair. The pain. My beating heart is an emotional watershed, the back of my eyes a veritable damn.
Brandon’s voice breaks into my inner turmoil and brings me back to the moment. “You okay?”
I take a deep breath to calm myself. “Yeah. It’s a very powerful scene. Let’s do it.”
“I want to rehearse it in the shower.”
My jaw drops and my stomach knots. “What?”
“That’s where it takes place. It’ll help me really feel it.”
“B-but the scene calls for you and Alisha to be bared to each other.” I know they use body part cover-ups, but still it requires undressing. I’m bristling all over.
“You can keep your clothes on. I’ll do the same. We’ll just pretend we’re undressed.”
My heart pounding, I process his words. His eyes stay riveted on me as if he’s mentally undressing me. Fully clothed, I already feel so exposed. So vulnerable. So aroused.
“And we’ll pretend the shower is running, right?”
“Wrong. We’ve got to go all the way.”
I gulp, reading much more into his words than I should. I struggle for a comeback. “What about my outfit? It’ll get all wet.”
“Make that the least of your worries. I’ll get it dry cleaned or buy you something new in time for your hot date.”
“Fine,” I splutter. My panties already need to be rung out. He’s right. I’m worried about a lot more.
Brandon’s bathroom is a spacious, state-of-the-art retreat, and like the rest of the house, it offers dazzling views of the city. Today, I can even see as far as the Pacific Ocean. There’s an oversized whirlpool tub and a separate glass enclosed shower that’s virtually the size of a room. A dozen people could easily fit inside it.
“Are you ready?” asks Brandon as he turns on the shower. It’s one of those luxury hi-tech showers with a multitude of knobs. To my wide-eyed amazement, the water gushes from the ceiling like a waterfall. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. The room steams up instantly.
“Take your shoes off.”
Kicking off my platforms, I’m having second thoughts. Anxiety is pulsing through my bloodstream and my stomach is twisting. But before I can change my mind, he takes me by my hand and leads me into the stall. The water pounds on us, soaking us quickly. In a couple breaths, we’re as wet as two drowned rats.
“This is kind of fun,” he laughs, shaking his dripping wet mop of ebony hair out of his eyes.
“Yeah,” I laugh back, drinking in the contours of his rippled muscles that strain against his drenched tee. I gleefully tilt back my head and rake my fingers through my hair. Droplets of water catch on my tongue. I’m reminded of being a little kid and running through the sprinklers with my clothes on. It was something naughty and fun.
“Okay, now let’s get serious. Do you remember your lines?”
I meet his glistening eyes. “Of course.”
“Good,” he says with a sexy lopsided smile. Without fair warning, he flips me around. His powerful arms circle my waist and draw me close to him. His hard body presses tight against mine. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest. My heart pitter-patters, and I’m glad for the forceful spray that washes out the sound.
“Now, remember. I’m Kurt Kussler and you’re my beloved wife Alisha. We’re insanely in love. Two kindred souls united by body and mind.”
I nod like a bobble-head doll. Words are stuck behind a big lump in my throat. I just hope I can say my lines.
“Ready? Here goes.”
I nod again. I’m wired up. Every nerve in my body is buzzing.
“Baby, did I ever tell you how sexy you are?” Brandon, I mean Kurt, breathes into my ear.
“No.” Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and I try to remember this is just make-believe.
“Well, I’m telling it to you now, Mrs. Kussler.” He parts my wet hair and, then wrapping his arms around me again, he nuzzles my neck. I flinch in his brawny arms at the feeling of his soft lips touching down on my flesh. Tingles swarm me.
And then he gropes my big tits, circling my nipples with his thumbs. My buds instantly harden under my clingy wet tank and another rush of tingly sparks descends to my sex. It’s as if my tits and my pussy are connected by a power cord. Holy shit! He’s turned up the steam.