Double Take: A Leading Man Romance (7 page)

“I hope you don’t think I’m being unprofessional,” I say, hushed. I accent it with a breath of a laugh that he graciously mirrors.

“We’re off the clock.”

“Good, because if you left right now, I might cry.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He kisses me again feverishly before pulling back to sit on his haunches. His hands run up the thigh that isn’t caught between his legs, resting at my knee. I wonder whether or not I should be self-conscious, but he’s looking at me,
really
studying me, and I suddenly feel absolutely stunning.

He’s looking at me the same way he looks over the playback from set, or how he looks when he reads the script. He’s seeing me as a piece of his work, as something to be relished and nearly worshipped. He confirms it when he says, “You’re fucking sexy, do you know that?”

“You said that to me once on set,” I say, my fingers dancing over my stomach.

“I meant it then, too. I wanted you.”

“I wanted you, too.”

His smile grows devilish, and he taps my knee once. “We should have just done it then.”

I’m smiling as he moves, crawling to the edge of the bed. He leans half of his body off of it to scrounge around for something, and he pulls his pants back into bed with him, resuming his place kneeling.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking
off
clothes?” I tease, but secretly pray that he isn’t
looking to redress now that we’ve taken a step towards the intimate.

Rob shoots me a dazzling smile. “Don’t worry. Rub yourself.”

I wet my lips and obey, a hand slipping down into my panties, fingers finding my clit to trace small circles. My body is buzzing. “I touched myself when you were in the kitchen…” My words are breathy and sex-hazed.

He looks pleased. “Naughty girl.” He finds what he’s looking for and pulls out his wallet, and from it, a condom. He holds it up like a prize, and I nod with a smile.

Rob puts the packaging between his teeth in order to reach in towards me, then he pulls the waistband of my panties, sliding them. I pull up my knees to help him, and he tosses them over his shoulder. He pulls off his own boxer-briefs, shifting to tug out one leg and then the other, and finally tears the condom packet.

My finger is still working my clit into a frenzy as I have a realization: I’m about to fuck Rob. It’s something I’ve wanted for so long, something my body has craved, and it’s happening. I work to store the motions to memory so I can relive them over and over again.

His cock has sprung free, and I watch with hungry eyes as he rolls the condom over it.

With some sense of familiarity, as though we’ve done this a million times, his hands find my calves, and he hoists them up so my ankles dangle over his shoulders, the backs of my thighs resting at his chest. I’m already panting as he guides his erection to my already-soaked entrance, and with a single thrust, he pushes himself inside of me.

I gasp at the feeling. He’s filled me completely. Rob gives me a moment to adjust before he draws out of me and rocks his hips forward again. His hands grip my knees, keeping me locked against him. I arch my back and use my free hand to yank my shirt up over my breasts, exposing them. Rob turns almost predatory, and his motion jerks once, disjointed. I’m immediately satisfied by that.

He hasn’t even broken a sweat. His breath is even through his nose, though his nostrils are slightly flared. I’m suddenly aware that everything is easy for him. And he’s
good
at everything.

With a hard push, his cock hits something inside of me that’s so sensitive and delicious it makes me cry out. He seems to like the reaction, because he does it again, harder this time, and I can hear the slap of his skin against mine. I’m suddenly lost, no more mental faculties. I can only hear and feel and smell Rob, even tasting the remnants of his mouth.

Rob parts my legs and hugs them around his waist in a sudden movement before he tumbles down on top of me. His lips find mine again, and our kiss is sloppy and hedonistic. He picks up his pace and thrusts hard and fast inside of me. My ankles lock behind him in order to keep myself as flush against him as possible.

My hands fall to his upper arms, which are flexed and strained with the weight of him, and they’re all lean muscle. I cry out again.

My fingers are still working the sensitive bundle of nerves at my clit, and with the faster rhythm set, it’s easier for me to pick up the speed. Soon, I’m pounding my own fingers there, keeping up with Rob the best that I can, and it’s as if my whole body swells with it.

I can hear his breath finally pick up and it beats against my cheek as he struggles not to break the kiss. I’m getting closer, but I want to last as long as he does. I don’t want to come without him.

But he’s getting closer, too. I know it, because he drops our kiss to press his forehead to mine, his pacing growing jerky and uneven.

He tells me, “I’m gonna come… come with me…” and his voice is so heated that I melt under him.

“Yeah…”

My finger circles my clit faster and faster as his hips slam into mine. Suddenly, he lets out a guttural noise and his body thrusts into me and stays there. He pulls out a little, then thrusts back in with another low growl, and finally, my body catches up.

There’s a hot coil in the pit of my stomach that springs to life, causing my orgasm to come quickly, and it’s crashing around me and around Rob, sending us both over the precipice together.

His hips jerk every time he empties himself a little more, and finally, he stills on top of me. He kisses me once before he pulls out with a soft declaration. “You are incredible…”

He flops on his back and looks over at me, and I’m a little stunned in the quiet after the typhoon. I finally look over at him, and then… I laugh. And soon, I’m almost hysterical, and he joins in, laughing with me. We probably look like two complete morons, sweaty and naked and laughing like we’re insane.

But it settles, and I’ve got tears in my eyes from the motion of it all. “Holy shit,” I say, wiping them from the corners of my eyes. “Yeah, that was good.”

Rob snorts once, and opens up his arm for me to climb in. I do, and I snuggle into his body, my head on his chest, my shirt still pulled up over my breasts.

“You really are a piece of art,” he murmurs before he kisses my forehead. “You make me crazy, and I can’t get enough.”

“I’m always here,” I tell him, and I kiss his chest, my fingers slipping up to toy with the hair there.

“I wish I’d known sooner.”

“Me, too.”

I fall asleep there, like this, wrapped in Rob’s arms, and it’s difficult to convince myself that this is anything other than an absolutely wonderful dream.

When I wake up the next morning, it’s to Rob’s alarm, but he’s already pulling on his clothes. I sit up in bed a little, wiping sleep from my eyes, and ask, “Do you ever sleep in?”

Rob glances over at me, smiles, and crawls back into bed to kiss my lips. “Morning, kid. You wanna ride in with me? We can get breakfast from crafty.”

I nod, realizing that taking time off isn’t an option for either of us. He’d offered, and at the time, I’d agreed, but in the light of day, I’m feeling better. And if I had the energy to sleep with Rob, I have the energy to go into work.

“Just give me five and I’ll be ready to go.” I scoot out of bed quickly and Rob watches me go to the small closet that’s attached to my room.

He’s my addiction already. And that’s a problem.

Rob isn’t the first to set today. In fact, I beat him there. It’s a once in a lifetime thing, I imagine, but I’m having breakfast with a few crew members when he walks in.

Kylie is on his arm.
Fuck
.

She’s hugging it, their hands are clasped together, and I suddenly feel sick to my fucking stomach. They see the other people on set, and they withdraw from one another, suddenly professional, but anyone who was looking would have seen the inevitable. They slept together. Great. How fucking typical of a director like him.

Karen approaches me, her eyes on them, too, and she speaks in a conspiratorial whisper. “You saw that, right?”

I don’t want to get involved, so I dig into my container of salmon and take a bite. “Saw what?”

“Oh, come on. Rob? And Kylie? He took her home yesterday after her little
incident
-- and, by the way, who the hell passes out on a movie set anymore anyway? -- and it looks like they had their way with each other.”

I mumble, “Glass houses.” Karen shoots me a look.

“What was that?”

I look at her now, irritated. “I said
glass houses
. You can’t exactly give someone else shit for something that
you’ve
done.”

“I haven’t passed out.”

I give her a look, a raised eyebrow, and she recoils, sinking into herself slightly, saying, “Right.
That
. Well, whatever, we were consenting adults.”

As if Rob and Kylie aren’t. I still think it’s bullshit, but I’m not going to continue to make this comparison. I step away from her to look for Melanie, who isn’t quite on set yet. I can’t handle the idea of another moment looking at the new happy couple, so I retreat, letting Keith know that I’ll be in my trailer.

I’m restless once I get there, and I’m not even hungry anymore. I hit the floor, my feet hooked under the couch, and frantically begin a few reps of sit-ups. With each huff of air that leaves my lungs, I feel simultaneously better and worse.

Kylie is too good for Rob. I know she doesn’t feel that way now, or she thinks he’s exactly what she needs, but he’s not. He’s a snake in the grass, and maybe he doesn’t think so now, maybe he thinks he’s doing the right thing by her, but he’s manipulative and shady.

If I’d taken her home last night, I never would have touched her. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have encouraged her to come on set today. If she’d insisted, I would have refused. She’s sick. She needs time to recover.

Thirty-three… thirty-four… thirty-five…

I try to concentrate on the count of my sit-ups instead, but I wind up frustrated, losing my own count somewhere between fifty and fifty-seven. If it can’t be exact, I don’t want it.

So I crawl out and flip over, beginning a line of push-ups. I usually do them until I’m exhausted, so I start quickly, one after the other.

I wonder if Rob has any
morals, or if he’s just abandoned them for this particular situation. I can’t see how any self-respecting man can actually take advantage of a girl like this. He’s a veritable Benedict fucking Arnold, and he has to know it. Everything he does is calculated.

When I found this film and got the script and started fighting for the role, I knew immediately Rob would put me in. But he made a big fucking deal out of it, drove down what I’d get paid for it, playing Lori like a violin. I hadn’t said a damn thing, not wanting to rock any boats, but I’d known what he was doing.

Low budget. So cut the budget on the porn star, and get a no-name for the female role so you can give her opportunity but little pay. Smart business. Shitty person.

My arms are starting to burn, so I pick up the pace. I need to hit my second wind.

I have no idea what time it is anymore or how long I have until I need to be on set. But all of this seems irrelevant at the moment. If he wants me to play the stereotype role, fine. I’ll step into it. I’ll
be
late. I’ll fuck up my lines.

It’s petty of me, I know, but I’m feeling petty at the moment, and used.

By the time my arms are worn out and I push myself until I’m standing, I’ve decided that the planning is enough. I’m a professional at the end of the day, and I’m not going to fuck that up just because the director is a dick.

I let out a breath through my nose, wipe the sweat from my brow with my arm, and I’m feeling slightly more spent as I return to the house, five minutes early and ready to work.

I’m getting my hair and makeup done when Kylie approaches, smiling. I mirror the action, even if there’s very little behind it.

“Thank you for checking up on me yesterday,” she says, and I nod politely.

“No problem. You got us all freaked.”

“I hadn’t really eaten. I think that’s the problem.”

I fold my arms over my chest a little, eyes darting to her. And even just looking at her, I feel slightly better. Everything is cheerier when Kylie is around. My smile turns genuine. “Yeah, well, not eating does tend to lead to loss of consciousness. You should probably look into that.”

Kylie gives me a childish
nyeh nyeh
look. “Yeah, well
,
I watched a documentary once about this religion of people who let their elders die with dignity. And at a certain point, the elder stops eating and basically starves himself, or herself, because after a certain point, there’s a feeling of euphoria, so they die pretty easily and feeling pleasure, not pain.”

I lift an eyebrow at that. “It’s a good thing you aren’t an elder then. You’d probably be applauded, and still on your hunger strike. Speaking of which…”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, and she begins retreating. “I’ll go hit up the table now.”

As she leaves, I realize that she has a confidence with me that she doesn’t have with him, and it helps. I wonder if I just have to wait this out for a little while until she comes out of this fairytale. Whatever happens, I’ll be here, waiting for her on the other side.

There’s something that makes the work day go by quicker, knowing that Rob is on the other side of it. He even smiles when he gives me his coffee order. I’m over the moon. I feel like I haven’t felt in years, and it’s all because of him.

I’ve never been the type of girl who put her happiness in the hands of other people. I’m independent and find a way through everything on my own. But I can’t help the sheer joy at knowing that fantasies sometimes come true. Rob has proven that.

And I’m already craving him again. My body is thirsty for more of him, for his lips and his body and his cock. I want to feel him on me, and inside of me.

We act professional, and no one on set seems to suspect a thing. Except maybe for Brett.