Every touch of his deft fingers.
Every brush of his hard body.
Every sound of his sultry voice.
Every pulse of his wondrous cock.
Any jealousy I harbor gives way to feverish lust and desire. You’re everything to me, Kurt. My breathing grows harsher, and my heart beats like a hammer. Every nerve in my body is sparking as a fire rages between my legs. I have the burning urge to touch myself. To quell the white-hot flame that’s searing every inch of my being. I squirm in the chair and cross my legs. My upper thighs stick together, slicked with wetness. I’m positive now I’ve stained Brandon’s chair. I feel faint like I may pass out any minute. Thank God, I’m sitting.
A thoughtful PA notices my condition.
“Can I bring you some water, Ms. Hart?”
“Yes, please,” I breathe out. “That would be great.”
Waiting for the water, I keep my eyes on the monitor and watch Brandon and Jewel heatedly play out the rest of the scene, making me believe the passion between Kurt and Alisha is so real. And then that kiss. That unforgettable kiss with his lips on mine, our tongues entwined in an erotic dance. Our bodies melded like one. Unable to erase the taste of him, I can’t watch anymore. I’m either going to melt or detonate. I jump off the tall chair and rush to the restroom. I dash into a stall and shove down my jeans. And finger myself until my lips silently cry out his name.
Brandon
“Oh, baby!” The final words of the scene tumble out of my mouth. I’m so close to coming, but one little word stops an orgasm of epic proportions.
“Cut!”
Emotionally drained and physically aroused, my head falls onto Alisha’s. Breathing hard, we hold each other, our soaking wet bodies slick against the other’s. It takes a long moment for the word to register. It’s not until some PA hops into the stall and turns off the pounding water. I slowly lift up my head and meet my co-star’s gaze. She’s no longer Alisha but Jewel.
Her wide-set blue eyes penetrate mine. “Brandon, that was amazing. You were amazing.”
My breathing calms. “So were you.”
“Thanks.” My technique worked. To get into the scene, I drew from experience. The most erotic shower experience I ever had. Or at least can remember.
Freeing herself, Jewel casts her eyes downward. My enormous erection stares her in the face.
She smiles playfully. “Brandon Taylor, did I give you a boner?”
I ponder her question for a few quick seconds. “No.”
Jewel laughs. But that’s the truth. Someone else did. While I acted out the scene, she was in my bloodstream, filling my mind and my heart. I tasted her sweetness and felt her soft curves against my body. Dripping wet, I step out of the shower and look for her. My eyes dart around the studio.
Zoey Hart is nowhere to be found. My cock sinks as a PA hands me a towel and helps me shrug on my robe. Jewel joins me. There’s raucous applause and cheers amongst the crew. I just shot my first scene since my accident, and I’ve blown them away.
Jewel’s director husband runs up to us. He hugs his beautiful wife. I wish there was someone to hug me.
Envy grabs me by the balls. To watch and film the woman you love kiss another man must be so challenging. Let alone People Magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive.” But he doesn’t seem threatened. Though likely twenty years older, he and Jewel must have a very strong marriage. Something beyond sex. Soul mates? Like my parents?
Breaking from the embrace, Niall pats me on the back. “Brandon, my man, you were absolutely brilliant. You nailed it.”
Before I can thank him, a familiar breathy voice calls out my name. My eyes find her quickly. Katrina. With the dog on a leash, she breezes my way.
“Where have you been?” I ask her while the little monster sniffs around my bare feet. I curl my toes, fearful he’ll bite.
“Oh darling, I’m so sorry I missed the scene, but I had to take Gucci for a walk. He needed to make a wee-wee.”
I mentally roll my eyes. She turns her attention to Jewel and Niall. Niall’s arm is wrapped around his wife.
“Darling, introduce us,” Katrina insists.
Reluctantly, I introduce my co-star and director to my fiancée.
Katrina plays up to them. “So wonderful to meet you! I do hope the two of you will be coming to our wedding.”
At the word wedding, I feel a tightening in my chest. It’s something I don’t want to think about. Make that the last thing I want to think about.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” says Jewel. “In fact, we just received the invitation. So clever to have it attached to a miniature horse-driven pumpkin carriage. I assume you’re going to be a Cinderella bride?”
Katrina’s face brightens. “Yes!”
Niall chimes in. “We’ll be there for sure.”
Jewel excuses herself to get changed while Niall tells us he’s going to review the shot list for the upcoming action scene. Alone with my fiancée, I change the subject to the only one on my mind. “Katrina, did you by chance see Zoey while you were outside?”
She contorts her face with disgust. “Yes. I wish you hadn’t reminded me. That pathetic girl was throwing up by your car.”
My pulse speeds up. “Is she okay?”
Katrina huffs. “How the hell would I know? I don’t associate with her. And besides, how could you even think I’d get close to a pool of vomit!?”
Before I can respond, something that feels like molten liquid trickles down my ankle. I look down and rage whips through me. The goddamn dog has peed on me! Its leg is still lifted.
Katrina gushes. “Finally! That is so cute! Gucci thought you were a fire hydrant.”
Fuming, I clench my fists by my sides. As if enduring this humiliation isn’t enough, on my next exasperated breath, the fucking dog bites me. I yelp and then shout some expletives. Blood is pouring. An observant PA runs to get me a Band-Aid. She returns quickly and wraps it around my big toe. I thank her, wishing I were thanking Zoey.
“Bad boy,” scolds Katrina, lifting the dog into her arms. “You’re getting a time out!”
The little dog cowers at the sound of her harsh voice. For a minute, I almost feel sorry for him, especially when his big brown woeful eyes meet mine. Katrina marches off with the dog. The pup’s gaze stays on me as if he’s expecting me to rescue him from whatever inevitable punishment he faces.
While the crew prepares for the next set up, I hobble to my dressing room. Collecting my cell phone, I sink into the couch and immediately speed dial Zoey. It rings and rings. No answer. Next, I text her. No answer. Finally, I email her. No answer.
Worry washes over me. It’s not like her not to respond. If I didn’t have to dive right into the next scene and spend the afternoon shooting an action sequence, I’d go home and check on her. Suddenly, I wish this day could be over.
I take a deep breath. It doesn’t calm me. I don’t remember the last time I cared so much about a girl. Or if I ever really did.
Zoey
I’m surveying the contents of Brandon’s refrigerator so I know what to order tomorrow when I hear a car pull into the adjacent garage. It must be Brandon. It’s after seven. He must be done with his shoot.
“Are you okay?” he asks, stepping into the kitchen. His voice sounds urgent.
Closing the refrigerator door, I spin around to face him. “What do you mean?”