Playing For Forever_An Erotic Love Story

by J. C. Grant

  Opening it, I flipped through, finding her article. As I scanned it, I knew it came from Elaine not Austin. It was generic and cheesy, designed to appeal to a large audience.

  Then I focused on the pictures.

  Goddamn, they looked more appropriate for Playboy than a local magazine. Everything was visible except her calves, nipples, pussy lips, and ass crack.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  My skin heated as it sank in. All those fucking assholes outside had seen it, anyone and everyone could see it. The photos were probably online.

  Grabbing every copy, I headed for the cashier.

  Yes, buying every copy in that particular store was futile, it made no difference, but it made me feel better. And it might prevent some of our neighbors from seeing it.

  When I set the stack of magazines on the counter the cashier's eyes darted down, then back up to my face.

  Don’t do it kid...

  He saw me all the time, Austin at least once a week, I didn’t know if I could control myself if he said something inappropriate.

  His finger tapped the cover as he said, “I had no idea how hot your wife is.” Then he gave me a thumbs up. “Nice.”

  Clenching my jaw and choking back a response, I nodded once, taking a deep breath. That was the reaction Elaine had wanted, I knew it was.

  This is for her career. She has to do this stuff now... Just be happy they didn’t use the models.

  Then I remembered, You encouraged this, dumbass. All that “be independent,” “be in charge of your own career...”

  I was a fucking moron.

  Paying for the magazines, I scooped them up and headed outside, ignoring the continued taunts from the paps, and climbed in Austin's car.

  As I set the magazines in the passenger seat, I took a moment, this time really looking at the cover. She was gorgeous. The shot was perfect. The lighting, the angle... her tits looked amazing. It was definitely getting framed and going in my office, no question. And knowing she'd gotten Mrs. Taylor inked on her three weeks ago, of her own volition...

  I couldn't help but grin. She was mine.

  And fuck me, those dance classes. That was a gift that kept on giving.

  Every fucking day.

  But all those things were for me and me alone. As hypocritical as it was, I wanted her body to be the same.

  Heading to my doctor’s appointment for my required physical, I tried to talk myself out of being angry. I understood the cover was intended to be shocking, but it made the nude photos she did with me look chaste. Innocent even.

  I had to find a way to be okay with it, with her doing the same thing I did. I needed to convince myself that seeing was not touching, was not having. I needed to wrap my head around it, before my possessiveness turned into a nuisance instead of a comfort to her.

  ****

  Two hours later, I pulled into our garage, still wrestling with wanting to be supportive and wanting to keep her to myself. I knew in the end, giving her whatever she wanted would win out, it always did. But I didn’t know how I was going to do that and not lie. Or worse, be honest and ruin it for her anyway.

  As I entered the house, I found Austin on the couch texting. Jeff had hired writers for the final six episodes of the first season. They'd been going back and forth daily.

  Actually, I was getting pretty selfish with her time again. Since my birthday, the classes were over and she'd already finished writing; our schedule was back to normal.

  And I wasn't ready to part with it next week. I also wasn't ready to tell Austin Dawn had been released into out patient rehab. But I was going to let Fergus deal with that. I needed to deal with my wife’s looming filming schedule and the cover she did.

  “Hey, babe,” she called out, glancing over at me. “What's that?”

  I made my way over to her, tossing one of the magazines on the couch. “You seen this yet?”

  “What?” She grabbed the magazine, looking at it. After moment, she said, “I don't want to sound like an asshole, but this looks good.”

  I watched as her excitement faded, turning weary as she looked up at me.

  “How pissed are you?”

  At the timidness in her voice, my anger dissolved. I couldn't bear for her to be afraid of me even in the smallest way, no matter what she did.

  Blowing out a harsh breath, I sat down next to her, pulling her bare legs over my lap.

  “When I found it? Pretty pissed.” My hands smoothed over her thighs as my eyes met hers. “But... I encouraged you to do this. Wanted you to take control of your career, and that's what you're doing.” I used the best reasonable and objective voice I could. “Based on the scripts I read, that's the image that needs to be out there.” I nodded toward the magazine she was holding.

  “Really?” Her eyebrows pulled together in disbelief.

  Maybe I had overdone the objective thing...

  “Did you want me to be pissed?”

  “Kinda?” she answered, unsure. Then her expression shifted, stunned. “Wow, that's fucked up.”

  She couldn't have been more perfect if she tried.

  “No, it's not.” I shook my head, a relieved grin plastered on my face. She didn’t expect me to be reasonable, and that I could do. “But I'm serious about that body double, Austin,” I warned gently.

  She shifted, spreading her legs, giving my hands room to roam. “You know I'm gonna have to do nude scenes?”

  My hands paused in their upper thigh exploration. “Not full-body shots. No frontal shots. Your pussy is not gonna be on camera. No fucking way.”

  That was one point I wasn't budging on.

  “Deal... Remember, I have to start sitting in on auditions next week.”

  She didn’t need to remind me, I’d been dreading it for weeks. Those auditions were going to waste several days we could be together in Phoenix.

  “Remember, your sweet ass is going with me to Arizona,” I countered, none too gently. My anger about the cover and our impending separation was bubbling back up. “You fly back for that shit. Couple hours here, couple hours there, then right back in Arizona with me, got it?”

  “Got it,” she agreed easily.

  My hands continued their journey while I tried to think of a way to talk her out of sitting in on those auditions.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Austin

  I woke up filled with dread.

  David was leaving for training camp in only a few short hours. And I was no longer invited to go.

  Yesterday, David had informed me, to make things easier, he was going down to spring training alone.

  I tried to convince myself it was so he could settle in and adjust without worrying about me. But that didn't make sense, because David would worry about me being anywhere without him. And he had said the exact opposite thing just a few days before.

  He'd done a three sixty overnight.

  Late last night, I finally gave in and accessed his phone from mine, going through his texts.

  David: Change of plans, leaving Austin at home.

  10:05AM

  The text was to Fergus, and David had sent it hours before he'd told me.

  My stomach was still in knots, and the apology breakfast only made it worse.

  “David, this makes me feel like you're apologizing for something. Like you did something bad... or you're about to,” I said as I stared at the elaborate gourmet waffles in front of me.

  “No, I'm just trying to remind my sexy wife how amazing her husband is so she doesn't do anything bad while I'm gone.” His voice was part teasing, part warning.

  I had to laugh at that. The truth was, it felt like I was going to do something bad very soon. The screen tests. They were to find out if we, me and the leading man options, had sexual chemistry on camera. I really wish I'd had more foresight. I was just writing my truth; I never took into consideration having to actually perform it. I wasn't naïve. I was aware it was most likely going to be a problem, but I was holding out hope that it wouldn't b
e.

  “So what exactly are you gonna do today?” David interrupted my thoughts.

  “Go to the gym and the auditions—and try not to wallow in the fact that I don't have my sexy-ass husband to cater to my every need,” I shamelessly attempted to guilt him into changing his mind.

  But it was true. It was going to be a huge adjustment, taking care of myself after David had been doing it for so long. He'd succeeded in making me dependent on him. It definitely wasn't healthy, but it was what it was.

  Part of me hated that I needed him so much, while another part of me didn't give a shit, because he was mine.

  “I didn't even think you really noticed.” His voice was soft, modest. Almost like he was embarrassed.

  “Of course I notice. You're the best husband ever. Do you really think that most husbands do the things you do?” I couldn’t help myself, trying to make him feel bad, laying it on thick. It was completely true, but I rarely went the gushy route.

  His eyebrow lifted and a sexy smirk formed on his face. “I don't know. I imagine if they had a wife like you they would—a wife that learns how to strip dance for her husband.”

  My bottom lip tucked into my mouth as I held his gaze, suddenly shy at the mention of my sexy dances.

  “Eat, sweetheart.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to my temple, then asked, “What do you wanna watch?”

  “Whatever you want,” I responded, focusing on my food, ignoring how easily he acted like nothing was wrong, like he wasn’t hiding something from me.

  He scooted over until we were sitting flush together, almost cuddling me as we ate.

  His treatment of me had changed since his birthday. I couldn't put my finger on exactly what is was; it was just more of everything. Whether it was the tattoo or the dance that had changed things, I wasn't sure.

  Maybe it was both.

  Regardless, it also made the new development about our looming separation more confusing and hurtful.

  We fell silent as we ate—an awkward silence, on my part at least.

  “What time are you leaving?” I asked after we'd finished.

  “I gotta leave in an hour.”

  “Oh shit, let me get dressed. I'll take you—” I started to get out of bed.

  “No,” he cut me off, grabbing my arm, stopping me. “Fergus already made arrangements. A truck’s waiting outside for me. You stay home. I don't want you stuck in LAX traffic.”

  I couldn't help but think maybe there was another reason he didn't want me taking him to the airport. I really needed to push away those thoughts, the ones of him cheating. I would go crazy if I didn't.

  Briefly, I wondered if this was how David felt all the time. Suspicious. Anxious.

  He pulled the covers back, climbing out of bed.

  “Can I be honest?” I blurted, on the verge of laying all my fears out.

  “Always,” he rumbled over his shoulder.

  His deep, rich voice soothed me; it always had, even if he was mad. Suddenly, I was struck with reality, hard and fast. Whatever he was hiding wasn't going to change from me voicing my concerns. He was still leaving in an hour. Without me.

  Not wanting to reveal my insecurities, I went with the vaguest version of the truth. “This fucking sucks. And you're not even gone.”

  A slow smirk formed on his face, turning into a full grin. His fists landed on the bed, his muscles flexing as he leaned over and firmly pressed his lips to my temple and rasped, “We're still gonna see each everyday—I won't fucking survive any other way.”

  “Yeah, but you have games like... every single day. And there's days where you have two games a day,” I explained, trying to sound practical and missing the mark.

  “I love you like this, all sweet and sad and needy.” His tone was cocky in the most charming way.

  “David,” I sighed, half in reprimand, half in annoyance.

  How had we switched roles so completely in less than two days? He'd been the one complaining about me needing to do anything but be with him in Arizona. Now he was readily leaving me for more than twenty-four hours.

  “I'm not saying it's gonna be the same amount of time, but we are gonna see each other. And we have the forty-eight-hour rule, remember?”

  “Yeah, I just have no idea how we’re going to not break it.”

  “We're not. It's not gonna happen.” His voice was confident, resolute. “And it's just practice until the third.”

  “That's only a week, David.” I didn’t want to be a defeatist, but that’s what I felt.

  “Austin, relax. You are gonna be there with me until filming starts. That's the plan, remember?”

  “Yeah.”

  What I remembered was he didn't want me with him until the following night. He wanted a day and a half of space—literally. More than three hundred miles of space.

  He gave me a quick kiss, then stood. Looking down at me, he muttered, “Love you like this.”

  Like what? Insecure and pathetic?

  I watched as he headed to the closet, the muscles in his back and arms rolling and shifting with his movements. His perfectly sculpted ass flexed under his sweatpants.

  A vivid image flashed through my mind: him fresh out of bed, half naked, cooking breakfast... for someone else.

  Jealousy coiled vicious and hot inside me as I stared at his retreating form.

  He was mine.

  My sex god.

  My everything.

  I'm not sharing him with anyone.

  A hundred different impulses raced through me.

  Unable to stop myself, I followed him, hopping up onto to closet island and watching as he tossed some clothes in a small suitcase. Then he shoved three pairs of cleats and gloves in a huge duffel bag.

  He looked at me as he stood, his gaze quickly turning heated.

  “Goddamn, love the way you eye-fuck me,” he muttered appreciatively, a smug smirk on his face.

  And just like that, I couldn't believe my David would ever cheat on me.

  In the next second, I remembered twenty-four hours ago I'd have sworn there was no way he would ever leave for Arizona without me.

  Now, look at us.

  I continued watching as he pulled a white tee on over those thick muscles, then worn jeans and boots.

  “Walk me out, sweet girl?” David asked as he exited the closet carrying his bags.

  Wordlessly, I hopped down and followed him, alarmed by the emotions bouncing around inside me and the sheer panic I felt at him leaving.

  “Fergus is going to be with you, okay?” he looked at me over his shoulder. “And remember, Helena's coming by once a week.”

  I nodded, staying silent.

  Helena was the housekeeper David had hired the previous week, insisting he wouldn't have time and he couldn't deal with me cleaning our house, even in his absence. Honestly, I thought it was ridiculous, but it was one of his issues, and he dealt with plenty of mine without complaining. I could deal with the uncomfortableness of a stranger cleaning the house, going through my clothes, and stocking our fridge.

  When we reached the door, he turned. “Hey, you okay?”

  I nodded again, still in shock at my violent emotions. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or scream.

  Jealousy was a confusing, vicious bitch.

  He studied my face closely, then whispered, “No, you're not.”

  His broad palm met the back of my neck, warm and gentle, pulling me into his hard body. My eyes closed and my hands fisted in his shirt as he pressed his lips to my forehead. He held me there, breathing me in. Between the intensity of the gesture and my emotions, I struggled to maintain my composure.

  I wanted to ask why he didn't want me with him, but I was terrified of the answer.

  “See you soon,” he murmured, before pulling away.

  When the door clicked closed behind him, I leaned against the wall.

  He didn't kiss me good-bye.

  The dull ache in my chest grew unbearable and I sank to the floor.

&nb
sp; I hated how dependent I was on him. Emotionally. Physically.

  Fuck.

  Chance came up, bumping his head into me.

  Rubbing his ears, I looked into his big pale green eyes. “It's just you and me now, buddy. Daddy's gone.”

  As if on cue, my eyes stung, brimming with tears. One deep breath later, they were streaming down my face with no end in sight.

  I didn’t know how long I sat there crying before finally getting up and getting ready for the day. My normal enthusiasm about going to the gym was gone, and I was starting to wonder if the only reason I liked going was because of David. Flirting. Fucking.

  Not wanting to disturb Chances routine, I took him with me. He followed me around the entire time, but he seemed as unenthusiastic as I was without David there.

  As inconspicuously as possible, we headed to the office, locking the door, damn near hiding from those furtive glances and “are you okays.”

  It was embarrassing. I had no idea I was so pathetic. Or transparent.

  We curled up on the couch together and I flicked on the TV. I needed a distraction...

  Comfort food.

  Austin: I have to sit in on auditions all day.

  Mind picking up some gourmet popcorn for

  me????? Pleeeeeease.

  8:10 AM

  Aaron: No problem. Any favorites?

  8:10 AM

  Austin: Sea Salt&Olive Oil and Dark Chocolate

  Drizzle

  8:11 AM

  Aaron: Got it. Drop off?

  8:11 AM

  Austin: The Lot. Stage 7. 10AM or later.

  I'll let the gate know.

  8:12 AM

  Cuddling with Chance on the couch, I took comfort in him, trying to convince myself I was happy, that everything was fine. Minutes later I received another text.

  Fergus: I’m waiting outside. Take your time.

  8:15 AM

  Oh, god. I’d forgotten all about him, too caught up in my head. I needed to be focused on work. I needed to get my shit together and stop being a pathetic emotional mess. Stop feeling sorry for myself.