by Lily Craig
My heart was not beating twice as fast as normal. It was actually somewhere around twice as hard. Like my organs were being subjected to a loud dance music bass line, except there was no music anywhere nearby. Just my own adrenaline, my own feelings, both flooding my system.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Which was both true and a hell of an understatement.
Here, in front of me, was an impeccably beautiful Hollywood starlet. She not only had slept with me, but she loved me. I’d said I loved her. Our adventures had been the absolute highlight of my year. Surreal. Gorgeous. Life-changing.
But she’d been cagey, self-protective when we were going out. Dating her had been like going back in the closet in some way, refusing to live the way I normally did in order to keep her manager happy. I’d been exposed to one tiny fraction of the craziness that fame had brought to Vanessa, hackers and paparazzi and the wild madness of constant scrutiny.
I didn’t know if I was ready to launch back into that world.
I didn’t know whether she really, truly wanted me to. Or if she just thought she couldn’t deal without me because she was on a level where people didn’t reject you, you rejected them.
And worst of all, I didn’t know if I could survive losing her again. What was to keep her from blaming me if something else happened? Technically, I knew that my previous picture sale to a gossip blog must have made her more suspicious of me when our picture was leaked.
That had been my own choice.
But someone as famous as Vanessa had to be careful, all the time, or she ran the kinds of risks most people never even had to think about. I’d been one of those people, living in blissful ignorance, until the day I saw her and immediately had to capture some aspect of her beauty.
Had to watch her in the sunshine and stillness, couldn’t keep my eye from returning to her.
Even now, in such a mundane place as my kitchen, she was otherworldly.
Her presence gave my mind the clarity I’d lacked for weeks. Her eyes, staring into mine, spoke to something deep inside me.
I didn’t know so, so many things. But I did know one thing for certain.
There was only one option: “I love you too.”
Chapter Nine
Last year, I’d been paid the kind of money most people couldn’t even fathom so that I’d return to the Dream Time franchise. My relative power for negotiation had brought so many zeroes to the end of my check that I cried when I first saw the contract. See, Dream Time had been a surprise hit the first time around. A runaway success, having cast a nobody for a single movie because they weren’t sure it would make any money.
The past years had been busy in a way that had utterly consumed my life. When I wasn’t shooting, I was promoting, travelling around the world for press junkets and photo ops. I couldn’t recall the last time I simply walked down the street bored out of my skull for something to do, because there was always, always something going on.
And there were almost always people watching me, too.
I was used to the spotlight, accustomed to eyes following me as I bought lunches, or drove down the street, even made phone calls.
But in front of me right at that moment, Tara’s quiet but heartfelt statement, the way she looked at me after she’d said she loved me, it was as glaring as the brightest spotlight.
“I am thrilled to hear that,” I said. It was the phrase I often used in red carpet interviews or behind the scenes when a reporter said they loved my work. Normally when I said it, I tried to infuse it with sincerity but it was a real effort. Now, it floated from me full of emotion, no work required.
So I found myself standing in Tara’s kitchen, positively glowing with excitement.
She loved me.
I hadn’t messed it up irreparably. Hackers, photo leaks, and publicity were the last thing on my mind. Instead, my brain buzzed with sheer, unbridled joy. It rivalled the highest high I’d experienced in my career thus far, the premiere of the first Dream Time.
Unlike that premiere, though, this was a moment entirely our own, not broadcast for the world to see. Somehow, that made it all the more special. I grinned at Tara giddily and stepped towards her, my hands taking hers.
“I promise, I won’t jump to such awful conclusions ever again. I’ll work on my trust issues.”
“I mean, honestly, I can’t blame you,” she said, her smile shy but gaining strength. “If I had people following me when I buy a sandwich, I’d probably get paranoid too.”
“Hey!” I laughed, swatting at her arm. “I’m not paranoid, I’m aware.”
“Ok, well then I hope your awareness can be more connected to reality in the future.”
“Fine, deal,” I said. My smile was almost hurting my face, it was so broad. Yet I couldn’t contain it, even feeling that ache in my cheeks. I leaned in and kissed Tara, reuniting our lips in a rush, the high that followed burning so brightly I wondered how I could have doubted her at all.
Tara was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, but she had the inner calm that came from work that truly fed your soul. I could see a burgeoning peace glowing from within her, and I wanted to help strengthen that peace. I wanted to be someone who nurtured her, who excited her, who partook in the triumphs and failures I knew would come with starting on a fresh path.
“Thank you for understanding,” I said, kissing her cheek and then her neck, tracing downwards with delicate flutters of contact.
“If it wasn’t you, I’m not sure I could have,” she answered. “But you’ve gotten to me, Vanessa. You’ve connected with some part of me deep inside that can’t imagine going into the future without you there.”
“Sounds like I’m pretty lucky.”
“I’ll say,” she grinned, sliding her arm around my waist and pulling me in closer to her with a firm movement. The warmth of her against me thawed some hurt I’d been harboring deep in my solar plexus.
Tara’s hands interlaced behind my back, keeping me tight against her while she gazed into my eyes. I could see constellations in her irises, small bursts of a golden color that made her seem almost royal. When she saw how I was captivated, she laughed. It filled the room with a buoyant feeling.
“I want to be with you,” I said, letting her amusement spill into me, smiling as I spoke. “I love you and I like who you are as a person. Your creativity, your passion, your everything. I want to be there, to see it all unfolding.”
The raucous smile faded from Tara’s face, replaced by a curious expression. She looked floored by my sincerity.
Good. Let her be.
I wanted her to understand that I wasn’t just trying to placate her hurt. I wanted reconciliation on a level that would bring us closer, deepening our relationship as well as restarting it.
“Will you have me?” I asked, almost flushing from the embarrassment of asking such a question. But I knew I needed to.
Tara’s hands slid down my back, cupping my butt with a firm hunger. She smiled, slowly, never losing eye contact with me.
“Hell yes,” she said. “If you’re ready for me to be part of your life, really part of it, then I’m more than happy to.”
Then she winced as my excited yelp practically deafened her.
“Good lord, Vanessa, I didn’t know you’d trained as a replacement for the sound effects department as well as acting.”
“Tara, was that your attempt at a joke? D+ at best.”
“Looks like you’re dating a bad comedienne, then,” she whispered into my ear. “And you’ll have to make your peace with that.”
“I’m sure I’ll find some way,” I murmured, but my brain was already filling with the longing I knew so well from being in close proximity to Tara. We’d spoken our piece, we’d reunited, and now our bodies gravitated towards each other like we were the two most important planets in our own solar system.
I felt the urge to shriek my excitement again, but I channeled it into a passionate kiss, nipping at Tara’s lower lip as I plunged into action. Her lips
met mine with vigor, soft and supple as she held me by the nape of my neck, fingertips lightly brushing against my skin so that a tingling series of goose bumps ran down my spine.
Good lord, she was sexy.
And now she was mine. Not my secret girlfriend, my passion and shame all at once. Not my ex, relegated to past mistakes and feverish dreams of regret. My girlfriend, my Tara. I was the luckiest girl in the whole of Hollywood.
The thought brought such a glow to me that I’m sure Tara could practically taste my good spirits. The mood was effervescent as we kissed, shedding clothing eagerly while we stood together. And then we were naked.
Tara’s golden skin practically begged me to touch, to lick, to caress. Her nipples hardened to a point, and I felt them brush against my chest, stirring me into even more of a frenzy. When she roved her hands down my back and then up to my breasts, I gasped at the contact.
Anticipation was half the fun, I told myself.
But after weeks of heartache, uncertainty, and lost time, the anticipation was almost killing me. My hips moved as if powered by their own forces, grinding against Tara slowly with a hunger that reverberated up my core. She leaned into the movement, her hands dropping to my hips to guide me with each wave.
Then she slid her fingers into me, slipping at a pace that was practically agonizing, given my lust. She saw it, she sensed it, and still she kept me waiting for the pleasure I knew she could give me.
“You’re such a tease tonight,” I whispered.
“I am,” she said, nodding. “And you love it.” She leaned in and bit my earlobe, her teeth softly enclosing the sensitive skin so that I moaned. All the while, her fingers went deeper, her thumb stirring at my clit in lazy circles.
It was enough to drive me crazy with anyone, but with Tara especially. We’d been apart for long enough that my desire for her had been building up, dreams of her mouth on mine contributing to a backlog of want. Every moment had a heightened quality to it.
Every kiss tasted twice as sweet.
Just before I felt like I would burst from how much I wanted Tara, even as she was touching me, she drew back.
“Get on the counter,” she said. There was a husky quality to her voice, dark and commanding in a way that resonated through me like lightning. I was eager to listen and shuffled up there immediately. My legs were tingling from the chilly countertop, the hairs on my arms standing on end as I shivered briefly. She just smiled, enjoying the view.
And then she leaned down and licked me, let me curl my hands into her hair and caress her while she worked. It was sharp, the pleasure, radiating from her capable mouth with each and every motion. I felt like I might dissolve, explode into all the smallest particles that made up my body.
It felt too good to be true, a reunion in so many ways that caused my heart to soar while my skin was electrified. She could get me, she could make me feel so dizzyingly high, she could push me to levels I hadn’t felt in years. Maybe ever.
Tara’s shoulders were warm against me, her mouth never leaving my thighs, and I lost all sense of time. It could have been two minutes or twenty, but at some point I felt my eyes close and I shuddered through the most intense orgasm I’d had in my entire life.
When I resurfaced from the depths of the pleasure, all of the sounds in Tara’s apartment seemed new. The light hum of her refrigerator, several feet away, sharpened against the backdrop of traffic noise in the distance outside. The space was an order of magnitude smaller than my home, but in its coziness there was heart. It felt homey.
Then I realized, it wasn’t the apartment I was feeling. It was being with Tara again. No matter where we went, she was the source of it. She was home to me. I was suddenly struck by the urge to keep her by my side, no matter what. She wasn’t just a girlfriend, she was seriously meaningful to me.
“Tara,” I said. She had a glass of water and was standing across from me, still naked, her eyes sultry as she drank.
“Yeah?”
“I know we haven’t known each other long, so stop me if I’m being ridiculous. But do you want to move in with me?”
She gazed at me from above the rim of the glass, as if sussing out my intentions. Clearly, she was still feeling sexy. I ached at the thought of her touch and eagerly anticipated the remaining hours left in the evening in which to fuck. But I needed to do this, now.
Or I’d never have the courage to ask ever again.
“Oh, you’re serious,” she said. The thought seemed to have floored her, knocked all her breath out of her lungs. She inhaled slowly to recuperate.
“I am.”
And I watched the idea wash over her, moving from preposterous to potentially intriguing to full on exciting.
“I think I might,” she said. “I just might.”
And then we sat there, high on the implications of the words we’d just spoken, our eyes boring into one another with the passion of everything left unsaid.
There would be time to find the words, when we lived together. There would be moments like this, over and over and over again. There would be cozy quiet stillness and the raucous peaks of pleasure and intimacy.
There would be us, living our lives, together.
Off in the distance, a siren blared its way down the street outside Tara’s apartment. Even with the blinds drawn, the sultriness of a summer sunset beat down on the windows, filling each square foot of air with heat and stirring motes of dust into lazy circles. We made our way to the bed, hands unable to resist each other.
As we tumbled into bed, Tara’s sweet smile wended its way into my soul, uplifting every fear I’d been carrying since we first met. It was how it should be, this way. I couldn’t believe I’d resisted it for so long.
When you meet someone who’s meant to be special to you, you’ll know. You just need to have the courage to let them be who they ought to be in your life, and now I was finally seeing the truth of Tara’s purpose. Of mine. She’d been there when I needed a push, and now that I had it, I was soaring.
I can’t believe I resisted love for so long when it feels so good.
I fell asleep that night with an unstoppable smile, my cheeks sore from the happiness that had been clear on my face for hours. Tara showed me some of the work she’d been doing, including logos for her business and artistic shots for a new portfolio. It was what she was meant to do.
No doubt about that.
And when the time came, I would find another acting job, probably something indie and creatively fulfilling. I’d already had enough of the blockbuster life, and Tara’s fulfillment pushed me to want to find my own.
We’d get where we needed to go, hand in hand, of that I was sure. So I slept soundly, our limbs entangled and heartbeats nearly synchronized, the warmth and thrill of the day still resonating in each and every second that ticked past. Tara was here. I was here. Los Angeles sprawled out from where we lay, its every palm tree and street part of the great, bizarre tapestry of the city.
Our city.
Our home.
And we were going to figure out the rest of it together.
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