First Touch

by Laurelin Paige

  As soon as I had a break, I called him on the cafeteria phone. I’d considered using the disposable but suspected Chris wouldn’t take a call from the unknown number. A call that showed up coming from the studio, however, he’d surely answer. No actor could resist those calls.

  He answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, Chris, it’s Emily.”

  “Emily. Hi. Wasn’t expecting you. What’s up? Did you lose your cell?”

  “No. Stupid me, I left it at home, and I couldn’t wait to talk to you so I’m using the phone on the lot.” It was almost disturbing how easy it was to lie to him.

  “Well, this sounds promising. I don’t know how Megan will feel about it, but —”

  I cut him off. “Stop it. That’s not why. I have a lead for you. Just found out the show is introducing a new male character next season, and I knew you’d want to know ASAP.” Really, I didn’t think Chris had a chance in hell of getting the part, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “Serious? A cameo or what?”

  “A recurring role. It’s the mom’s brother. I thought maybe we could get together, and I could give you some hints on prepping for it.” Hopefully I could pinch one of the writers for some inside scoop so that I could back that up.

  “Fuck. I’m out of town. When’s the audition?”

  “Not until after hiatus. They haven’t even announced it yet. So we have time.” I’d just have to figure out how to meet with him without it interfering with my Reeve time. “Maybe you could even come to the studio. When will you be back?”

  “Last week of March. I’m in Canada shooting the next Warrior Wick until then.”

  “They’re making another one?” The first movie had been the worst thing I’d ever sat through.

  “It’s indie. It didn’t have to make much to break even.” He had a point there. “So we’ll hook up when I get back?”

  For a minute I considered just asking him on the phone. But I wanted the real dirt. The kind of dirt you got face-to-face with no time constraints. “Yes, when you get back. Maybe I can get my hands on a side by then.”

  I was disappointed it wasn’t sooner, but it wasn’t like I was going anywhere before my two-month probation period with Reeve was up. And since NextGen would be done filming the season around the same time, I could likely slip away on a weekday to meet with him.

  I stayed at Reeve’s both Friday and Saturday that weekend. And the next. It became our routine. Sometimes I worried about the passing of time, worried about Amber. Besides meeting with Chris, I couldn’t think of anything else to follow up on and Joe was working any leads that came in. He was more and more certain she’d gotten wrapped up in Vilanakis’s sex trafficking and that would take time to break.

  I, on the other hand, was more and more uncertain. About Amber. About Reeve. About everything. I saw no signs of mob engagement when I was with him. I also saw no signs of Amber. But I did see signs of me – the woman who I’d been. The woman I’d run away from. The woman I’d forgotten I loved being.

  Each week that passed by I felt less like I was playing a part with him and more like the act was what I put on the other days of the week. I’d lie to Ty Macy when he’d badger me about the origin of my hickeys. I’d dodge my agent when he tried to set up auditions for me, wanting to keep both my weekends and my break from filming as time to be with Reeve. I’d drift through my days, plastic and perfect on the outside, simmering with shame on the insides. Friday nights when shooting was over, I put Emily Wayborn to sleep and let Emily Barnes wake up.

  It was early March when I woke up in Reeve’s bed alone in the middle of the night. When I couldn’t doze off again right away, I decided to get up and look for him. I put on one of Reeve’s T-shirts from his dresser and padded into the hall. It was dark and a peek downstairs over the hallway bridge told me that there wasn’t any light downstairs either. The house was quiet, and I realized it was the first time I’d truly been free to explore. Usually either Reeve or his men were around and I’d never had a reason to go into any of the rooms on the wing opposite the master bedroom.

  But now I did. If I got caught, I was simply looking for him.

  The first two rooms I went in were standard guest rooms, each with a bed and a dresser and a bedside table. The third room appeared at first glance to be the same, but then I noticed magazines on the nightstand. The last person to stay there had probably left them, but when I picked up the top magazine, I discovered it was the People magazine from a year before. The one that had my first celebrity photo. The one with Amber and Reeve in it.

  It could mean nothing. It could also mean something.

  Not wanting to flood the room with the overhead, I switched on the bedside lamp and looked around. There was a jewelry box and a hairbrush on the dresser. Strands of pale yellow hair clung to the teeth of the brush. I opened the top drawer and found women’s underwear. The next drawers were jeans and T-shirts and lingerie. The closet was filled with more clothing – evening dresses, blouses, shoes, slacks.

  Reeve had been with plenty of women. The items could have been left by anyone. They could have been left by several different women, collected and stored in here over time. They could be things he kept for the use of the current flavor of the moment.

  Why, then, was I so sure they’d belonged to Amber?

  Because she was the last woman he’d dated, probably. But if they were her things, why were they still there when she wasn’t with him anymore?

  The hair on my neck stood up and a chill ran through me. I didn’t want to be in there. There was no way I would ever know why the things were there without asking, and the longer I stayed, the more my mind ran away with possibilities. I turned off the light and went looking for Reeve for real this time.

  Since the downstairs was too quiet for me to think he was there, I went back down the hall and started up the stairs to the third floor. I’d never been up there either and had no idea what I’d find. I heard him before I finished my climb. He was talking to someone, and while that should have been a reason to stay away, I needed him. Needed him to reassure me that there wasn’t any reason to believe he’d done anything to hurt anyone. Reassure me that what he’d shown me was the real part of him as much as what I’d shown him was the real part of me.

  The stairs opened up to a single loft-style room. It was dark except for the moonlight coming in from yet another wall of windows. There was enough light to gather that the room was an office from the bookshelves and file cabinets along the inner wall. Reeve sat at a long sleek desk in the back corner, his face and bare torso illuminated from the large computer monitor in front of him.

  “Fuck you,” he said, and I froze. But his eyes were on his screen. “You’re just pissed because I cleaned you out.”

  “That and other things,” a male voice said in response, followed by something in Greek.

  I couldn’t tell if he was on speakerphone or Skype. Whichever, what kind of a man would Reeve be talking with in the middle of the night?

  I wrapped my arms around myself and huddled in the cloak of darkness, watching him, not because I was snooping anymore, but because I had an innate curiosity where he was concerned and I was pretty sure that whoever he was talking to, whatever he was talking about, it wasn’t the kind of conversation he’d want me to hear. Maybe I should just go back to bed.

  “It’s the family way,” came the voice from the computer, “to hold a grudge.”

  “And Nikolas is especially good at it,” Reeve said. His eyes never moved from the screen. “Why don’t you come over here?”

  “Come there? Me? Or Nikki?”

  “None of you.” He looked directly at me now. “Emily.” He’d known I was there all along. Of course. He held his hand out for me to join him. Because that was what I wanted to do, because I’d do whatever he asked, I went. When I got close enough he pulled me onto his lap and wrapped an arm around my waist.

  And instantly all my fears and doubts were calmed.

&n
bsp; Now I could also see the computer and the whole scenario became clear. Three men’s faces showed on the screen in three separate frames. Another frame showed an animated computer table with playing cards laid out in the middle and one more frame showed a hand of two cards. There was also a box with names, current bet amounts, and total winnings.

  “Online poker?” It was sort of charming to see Reeve involved in something so regular-guy.

  “With real money, of course. And you’re my good luck charm.” Looking at his earnings, though, it didn’t seem like he needed a good luck charm.

  The current bet amount changed for the name Nikki and an indicator lit up to show it was now Pet’s turn. It was this latter man who acknowledged me first. “Who’s this pretty thing?” He was about my age with dark features that suggested he was from the Mediterranean. The bright natural light that filled his screen suggested he was in a far different time zone.

  Reeve dismissed him. “As far as you’re concerned, she’s no one. Make your bet.”

  “Watch her, though,” one said. Nikki according to the screen. He was older than Reeve, by ten years I’d guess. His features were very similar to Pet’s. Relatives, maybe.

  The third one, Gino, studied me. “Yeah. Good point.”

  I tugged at the shirt I was wearing, knowing I was covered but feeling exposed with all the eyes. Without moving his focus from the screen, Reeve said quietly, “You know they’re looking at you to figure out what my cards are.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t even thought about them trying to read my face. It was hard to think at all with Reeve’s thumb brushing up and down on my bare thigh. He probably didn’t even know he was doing it, and it was sending electric bolts of want straight up to my core.

  Pet’s eyes narrowed. “Seriously, Reevis? You’re already winning. Couldn’t you have given us the girl for a tell?”

  “That would be a bad idea,” I said. “I can see his cards, but I know shit about poker. I’d lead you astray.” It was totally not true. I’d played cards since I could count to ten. Reeve was currently rocking a flush and if the river card was a two or seven of hearts, he’d have a straight flush.

  To him, I asked, “Reevis?”

  It was Pet that replied. “As in Beavis and Butthead. It’s been his nickname since he was, what? Fifteen?” Since the scoreboard listed Reevis as well, I presumed that all of the names were nicknames.

  Gino nodded. “About that.”

  “And you’re the butthead, Petros. Make your fucking bet.”

  Petros said something in Greek that sounded like cursing and entered something in the computer. Pet showed on the screen as having made his bet and the indicator moved to light up Reevis.

  His hand on my thigh moved higher, under my shirt to where my leg met my torso and his caress here made it nearly impossible not to squirm. Maybe he knew what he was doing after all.

  He turned his head toward me and his breath felt hot on my ear. “What do you say, Em? Should I bet high or low?”

  Gino interjected with something I didn’t understand and Petros responded with more Greek. Then he asked, “What are you helping Reevis for anyway?”

  Reeve also said something I didn’t understand. I looked at him, questioningly.

  “They’re trying to convince me not to take your advice since you know nothing about poker.” The look he gave me said he knew full well that I understood the game. “I told them I trusted you anyway.”

  It was probably just something to say but it both thrilled me and gutted me at the same time. I wasn’t someone he could trust. And as much as I wanted to, he wasn’t someone I trusted either.

  But I wanted to. I wanted him to trust me too, no matter how undeserved it was.

  It was for that reason as much as because he had good cards that I said, “Then I say go all in.”

  He brought his other hand up to stroke his thumb across my cheek. “Can’t win if you don’t risk, can you?”

  I nodded, not sure we were still talking about the game, and my chest felt tight and funny.

  “All in it is.” He dropped his hand to the keyboard to enter his bet. The animated dealer turned the river card. Two of hearts. Reeve took the pot with his straight flush.

  The men groaned and complained. It was easy to make that out even without understanding the language. Reeve rubbed his nose against my cheek. “Appropriate card.” He moved lower to suck on my neck.

  He means appropriate because he won, I told myself. Not because of its suit and number. Because how could he say such a sweet thing and be genuine when he had a woman’s wardrobe in his guest room?

  The computer got ready for another round, and each man had to click in. Gino said something that seemed to be addressed to Reeve.

  Reeve pulled his mouth away from me just enough that he could talk. “No. I’m out.”

  More groans. More complaining. It was Nikki who made the comment that got Reeve’s attention. All the words sounded so much alike, but I would have sworn he’d also said “Michelis.”

  Or it could have been “Nikolas.” Maybe that was Nikki’s real name.

  Whatever it was, Reeve didn’t like it. He snapped something back. Something that made everyone else ooh in response. Then he leaned forward and turned the computer off.

  “What did they say?” I asked. “And who were they? Friends?”

  Reeve shifted me so that I straddled his lap. Straddled his erection. He ran his hands down the sides of my torso sending chills skating down my spine. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer me, and considering where he was going instead, I didn’t mind not talking. Considering how much I was beginning to fear the truth, maybe it was best to avoid it.

  But then he said, “They’re my cousins. Nikolas is my uncle.” See, it was Nikolas. “They asked me if I’d consider sharing you.” He bent down and took my nipple in his mouth, sucking it to a taut bud through the T-shirt.

  Both his mouth and his words had my heart rate spiking. Being shared had been standard once upon a time. It hadn’t bothered me then. It really didn’t bother me now. I’d still do it if Reeve asked me to. I just wished that he didn’t want that. Wished he wanted me all to himself.

  I wanted to know if he was planning that for me, but, like all the questions burning on the tip of my tongue, I couldn’t bring myself to inquire.

  “Have you done that before?” I asked instead. “Shared? With them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Glad I put a shirt on.” I hated the edge to my tone. Hated that his answer brought disappointment when it wasn’t even about me.

  Reeve released my breast from his mouth and rolled my nipple between his fingers. “I wouldn’t have called you to come over here if you didn’t.” He seemed far less interested in the conversation than my body. Either he didn’t notice I was affected or he didn’t care.

  “Right. Even though you’ve shared with them before. Even though you’ve let your entire staff see me.” I was burdened with apprehension regarding him, but this, this one silly issue, if he could make this good, it would make all of it good. It would be a sign that he really wasn’t what I feared.

  He tugged the hem of the shirt and nodded for me to lift my arms. When he’d pulled it over my head, he met my eyes. “I don’t mind what my staff sees because I know you like it.” He kissed the surprised O off my mouth. “And yes, I’ve shared with those fuckers but only occasionally. And not ever before I was done.”

  It was enough. It was more than enough. Because I wanted it to be. Because I needed it to be.

  He trailed his lips down my jaw and neck, heating my blood until it coursed through my veins like a river of lava, until I was scorching and in need of relief that only he could give.

  Reeve leaned back from his kisses and pulled his swollen cock from his sweatpants. He urged me up on my knees and gripped my hips, positioning himself under my cunt, which was pulsing and eager and wet.

  This was good. Sex with Reeve was always good. The things he did to my
body were beyond fantastic. Beyond what I’d ever known my body could do or feel.

  And this thing he was doing to my heart?

  I shouldn’t want it. Shouldn’t acknowledge it.

  But I couldn’t help the breathy query that sailed off my tongue. “So what did you say when they asked about me?”

  He buried his gaze in mine. “That I wasn’t sure I’d ever be done.”

  And with those words he turned enough into more. He pulled me down as he lifted himself up, burying his cock deep in me, sending my hormones flying into the “feel good” stratosphere. Sending another part of me soaring there as well – the part of me that was more emotion than sensation. The part of me that was more soul and essence than pleasure receptors.

  It was good that, even with me on top, Reeve controlled our rhythm because I was too overwhelmed, too in the clouds to be in charge of anything but the attempt to remain present. It was tempting to let go of that as well. To let myself drift and be taken care of. Let the pleasure buoy me until it crashed over me and swept me under.

  But I stayed with him, because that’s where he wanted me to be – with him. It was like he expected me to release and enjoy, but first I had to take the ride. With him.

  Admittedly, I almost missed it. He gripped my hips and lifted me up and down, stroking his cock with my cunt, almost as though I didn’t even need to be there. As though I were a sex toy, a warm body. So why did it even matter if I used him the same way?

  Except, that was only one element of our fucking. There were also the words that had preluded. And, when he stood and pushed me back against the desk, bracing me between his body and the edge, when he lifted my thighs so that he could pound into me harder, deeper – that’s when I was sure that the other element actually existed and wasn’t in my head. The element that kept me anchored to him.