by L.H. Cosway
I tugged on his hair and he looked up at me hotly, eyes dark as his tongue darted out and licked a long, wet line right down the centre of me once more. I shifted, a strangled cry escaping as his fingers moved in and out in a tantalising rhythm.
“I love you…so much,” I gasped, and saw him smile as he continued to eat me out.
“We’re not going to the party until I make you come at least twice more,” he told me between licks.
I didn’t even bother to argue. And he made good on his promise.
I knew I must have looked like a sex-flushed mess when we finally arrived at the wine bar for the after party, where our fellow cast members and stage crew were celebrating a successful opening night. I held Damon’s hand, wearing a hastily thrown-together outfit of a black shift dress and heels. Damon wore jeans and a T-shirt with a casual navy jacket. Despite the lack of effort, he looked incredible. Or maybe I just thought that because I was so completely infatuated.
Every time he looked at me, every time we touched, no matter how casual, it had my heart doing somersaults and my stomach fluttering with happiness.
Stepping out of the cab, we were immediately met with the blinding flashes of cameras. I’d been so lost in a sea of Damon that I completely forgot about all the press who were covering our opening night. My stomach tensed when Damon’s hand tightened around mine. I knew he didn’t like this sort of attention and I didn’t want him to become angry or upset.
Glancing up, I saw his jaw firm as he stiffly surveyed the wall of paparazzi that surrounded us. His eyes came to mine and I widened my gaze at him before mouthing, just smile. I could see from his expression that he remembered our conversation from weeks ago, when I’d told him that if he simply embraced the attention it wouldn’t bother him so much. Besides, being photographed on a daily basis was part and parcel of the business.
It was as we silently communicated that his tension subsided. His shoulders relaxed, his jaw loosened, and he no longer held my hand in a death grip. His mouth moved and my heart leapt when I saw his lips slowly curving into a smile. The photographers called his name, asking how he’d enjoyed his opening night, who I was, whether or not he’d return to film after the show’s run ended. All manner of questions. Damon didn’t answer a single one.
But he smiled.
He embraced the situation instead of hiding, and that was how I knew he’d be okay. He might never love this side of the job, but he’d get through it, and that was all that mattered.
“Look at you, freshly fucked and ready to party,” Julian whispered teasingly in my ear as soon as we entered the bar. Damon had gone to get us drinks.
“Shut your face,” I said, biting back a smile. Trust Julian to be the first one to notice the signs of recent shagging.
“Oh, my God, I’m right, aren’t I? I have to say, Rose, sex looks good on you. You’re practically glowing.”
I blushed profusely and elbowed him in the side. “I said, shut up.”
Julian laughed as he lifted his glass of orange juice to take a sip, the move full of masculine elegance. “You know the more embarrassed you get, the more I’ll just keep going. You need to own it. I’m glad you and the dashing Mr Atwood finally managed to reconnect. It was becoming downright depressing seeing you wallow around the flat like Bridget Jones after she broke up with Darcy.”
“First of all, stop referring to him as ‘the dashing Mr Atwood.’ You make him sound like he should be in a Jane Austen novel, and secondly, I haven’t been the only one wallowing.” I eyed him pointedly, but he waved away the comment.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m over the whole Alicia thing. We’re friends now. It’s all good.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“You mean since the night you eavesdropped on our little tête-à-tête?” said Julian nonchalantly. I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “Don’t even bother trying to deny it. The fourth floorboard from your bedroom door has a creak in it. I knew you were listening.”
I frowned, realising he was right. I kept forgetting about that bloody creaky floorboard. “I’m sorry. Are you mad?”
“Of course not. I would’ve done the same thing. And besides, I’m eagerly awaiting the night you and Damon decide to do the dirty at our place. I’ll have a glass up against the wall for that show, you mark my words,” he quipped, and I slapped his shoulder.
“Don’t you dare.”
“You know I’m joking. Listening to you have sex would be like listening to my own sister, and even I’m not depraved enough to give incest a go.”
I laughed loudly just as Damon returned with our drinks, his warm fingers skimming mine as he handed me the glass. He wrapped one arm around my shoulders and pulled me close before pressing a kiss to my temple. The show of affection had Julian doting like a drunk aunt at a wedding reception.
“Aw, would you look at you two, so adorable it makes me sick.”
“You can say that again,” came a familiar voice as Alicia appeared at his side. I stiffened momentarily, but then saw the friendly, open smile on her face and relaxed. “There were a couple of journalists wanting to interview you after the show,” she said to Damon, a smirk forming. “Apparently Jacob’s assistant tried your dressing room several times, but the door was locked.”
“I was busy,” Damon replied, like that explained everything.
“And you know what they say,” Julian interjected cheerily. “If the boats a-rocking, be a dear and leave some cigarettes by the door for after.”
Alicia chuckled, smiling at Julian like they were buds, before returning her attention to Damon. “Anyway, I did my duty and gave all the interviews tonight, but you can do them tomorrow. A girl needs her beauty sleep.”
“I know something she needs more than sleep,” Julian muttered past a sip of his drink, but Alicia let the comment slide, only casting him a vaguely amused flick of her emerald green eyes. Perhaps they really were friends now.
I felt someone pat my shoulder before I turned and found Blake standing behind me. Damon tensed almost instantly, but I sent him a reassuring look that said it was fine.
“Rose, can we talk for a minute?” Blake asked hesitantly. He shot a nervous glance in Damon’s direction, and I thought he might be anxious he’d try punch him again. The nervousness was so unlike him. Normally he was confident to the point of cockiness.
Damon’s arm around my shoulder tightened, but I turned and placed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “It’s okay. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He didn’t seem too happy and only just managed to let his arm drop from me. For a second I thought he might tell Blake to fuck off, but he didn’t, and I knew it had taken a lot of self-restraint. Stepping aside, I gestured for Blake to lead the way. I followed him to a small smoking area outside. He sat down on a chair and lit a cigarette, the plume of smoke billowing out as he exhaled. I took a seat next to him, and for a minute we just stared at the brick wall of the building in front of us. It was a chilly night, and my bare arms pricked with goose pimples from the cold.
“I gave Jacob my notice,” he said. “He’s got two weeks to find a replacement, and then I’m checking into the Priory.”
I glanced at him in surprise. “Really?”
He nodded, sucking in another drag of his smoke, his other hand tucked in his pocket.
“Wow, that’s great news. You’re doing the right thing.”
A small smile shaped his lips. He really was very handsome, even with the grey bags beneath his eyes and the perennially tired cast to his features. I could just imagine how gorgeous he’d be if he got healthy. “Yeah, well, it’s nice to know someone cares.”
“Of course I care. I’ll always care about you to some extent, Blake. I can’t be with someone and then just stop caring. It’s not how I’m drawn.”
He glanced at me, an intense look on his face as a silence fell between us.
“This role really is cursed. First Bob and now you. I bet Jacob’s having a fanny fi
t as we speak,” I said, smiling.
That solicited a small laugh from Blake. “Yeah, he wasn’t too happy.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “He basically tore me a new one, frog-marching me out of his office and calling me an ungrateful little prick. I didn’t tell him about my addiction. Don’t want it spreading around the industry, or I might have trouble finding work when I get out of rehab.”
“I can understand that. The main thing is that you’re doing this. And you don’t have to worry about me. I won’t tell anyone.”
He shot me a look of thanks and sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Good. That’s a weight off my mind. It’s nice to have an ex who isn’t out to string me up by the balls for once.”
I smiled at that. “Oh, believe me, there was a time when I wanted to, but I’m over it.”
“Yeah, you’ve got Damon now. I really mean it when I say I’m sorry for trying fuck things up with you two. I wasn’t in my right mind, but it’s still inexcusable.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. It’s all water under the bridge,” I said, reaching out to give his hand a squeeze. We shared a look before I let go.
“He’s a lucky son of a bitch, you tell him that from me,” said Blake.
“She doesn’t have to. I’m already well aware of it,” came Damon’s voice as he stepped out into the smoking area. His gaze wandered from me to Blake and then back to me. I stood and went to slide my fingers through his. A charged moment passed between Damon and Blake, like they were silently coming to an understanding. Then we told Blake we’d see him tomorrow before stepping back inside the bar.
“Did he behave himself?” Damon whispered, his breath tickling my ear. I shuddered and clenched my thighs, which were still sore from all the dressing room sex we’d just had.
“He did.”
“Good,” Damon said sternly, right before Alicia appeared in front of us. She glanced between the two of us before her attention came to land on me.
“Sorry to interrupt but I need to borrow Rose for a minute,” she said with a smile.
I thought it was funny that Damon eyed her with almost the same amount of suspicion as he had Blake. She waved her hand in the air.
“No need to get your panties in a twist. I have nothing but pure intentions,” she said as Damon continued to eye her. I let go of his hand and took a step toward Alicia, joking, “Seems like I’m quite the popular lady tonight. I’ll come find you in a minute.”
Damon nodded gruffly, kissed my cheek and then went to join Julian over by the bar. Alicia tilted her head for me to follow her to a small table in a quiet corner.
“So,” she began as I took a seat. “I’ve got a couple apologies for you.”
“You do?” I quirked a brow.
She nodded. “Uh huh. First, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve made my peace with the fact that you and Damon are soul mates. As much as it makes me want to barf, I understand now and I won’t try to get between you again.” She shot me a friendly grin and I smiled, rolling my eyes.
“And second, I’m sorry for how I treated Julian. You were right, he’s an amazing person. He deserves someone amazing and I feel ashamed for my actions. I’ve already apologised to him and he’s forgiven me. I just hope you can, too.”
I shrugged. “If Julian’s forgiven you then there’s nothing else to say. Just…please don’t string him along again. You were right when you said you were too alike. I’ve known him since we were kids, and I know he needs someone who’s the opposite of him. I’m the opposite of him. It’s why I’m the only person who’s lasted so long in his life.”
“And I need someone who’s the opposite of me,” said Alicia. “So we’re all agreed. Here’s hoping one day I find my reliable man and Julian finds a girl like you, but one he actually wants to have sex with.” She laughed and I joined her.
“I’ll drink to that.”
A little while later, after I found Damon and we did our rounds, we both felt it was time to call it a night. Not least because of the fact that a heady tension still lingered between us.
I wanted him again.
When we got back to my place, Damon tugged me directly to the bedroom before quickly ridding me of my clothes. It was a long, long, deliciously wonderful night.
The following morning, neither one of us woke up before midday. I opened my eyes to find the bed empty and the delectable scent of bacon streaming in from the kitchen. Stretching my body out, I savoured the exhaustion in my muscles and bones, the wonderful ache between my thighs a mark that Damon had been there not long ago.
“Morning,” he said, looking scruffy and handsome as he re-entered the room with a tray.
“Is this breakfast in bed? You do realise you already have my heart, right? You don’t need to try steal it a second time.”
He cast me an amused grin before joining me in bed and feeding me bacon. Did I mention how much I loved this man? It was just as we’d finished eating and Damon started planting kisses down my body that a thought struck me. I sprang up, almost knocking him off the bed as I grabbed for my phone. Damon chuckled in amusement, perplexed as he watched me. He started running his hand up and down my back as he peeked his head over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice tired and husky.
“I’m checking to see if there are any reviews of the show yet,” I replied, scanning the search results before finding what I was looking for. “Ah! Okay, here we go, I’ve found one. Say a prayer it’s favourable. I’m just gonna bite the bullet and read it aloud.”
“Go ahead.” Damon laughed softly at my antics, pressing a tender kiss to my shoulder. He didn’t give a hoot about reviews, I could tell. He wasn’t that sort of person. He didn’t perform for praise. But I, well, this was my first ever performance. I knew I wasn’t anywhere near being a focal point in the show, but I was eager to see if I’d gotten a mention.
“When I first heard that the esteemed Jacob Anthony was planning to direct a stage adaptation of Moulin Rouge, I’ll admit I was wary. So many questions entered my head. How will they re-create the frantic, surreal fast pace only modern film editing can achieve? Who will play the roles so synonymous with their original actors? And is it even possible to license such an extensive and varied score?
“Well, let me just say here and now that the very moment the house lights dimmed and Henry Green stepped onto the stage in a bizarre representation of the legendary artist Toulouse-Lautrec, all those questions fled my mind. I was rapt from the very first song. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I experienced such an all-consuming and visceral reaction to a performance.
“Anthony’s Moulin Rouge is a riot of colour, emotion, and charm. The cast are magnificently adept, from the lead actors to the chorus line. I was particularly moved by Damon Atwood’s stage debut, whom we haven’t seen in the public eye for almost a decade. Atwood was a stunning actor in his youth, but with the passing of years has transformed into a thespian of finest quality. His voice is unparalleled, often outshining the talent of those performing alongside him. There were several moments where you could almost hear a pin drop, the onlookers were so enthralled by his performance.”
I paused reading to glance at Damon over my shoulder and grin. He was trying not to let it show that he enjoyed the praise, but I knew it meant something to him to hear a faceless reviewer speak so highly of him. I returned my attention to the review.
“And then we have the much-beloved Hollywood star, Alicia Davidson, also making her stage debut as Satine. I was highly impressed both with her vocal chops and her ability to bring equal parts vulnerability and strength to a character who is ruthlessly ambitious yet behind it all hopelessly romantic. And let’s not forget the fact that she’s mighty fine to look at, too. The male members of the audience certainly weren’t left wanting for eye candy.
“Last but not least, I must comment on the sheer magnificence of the production’s choreography. I felt as though I were transported
back in time as the dancers not only owned every inch of the stage, but every inch of the theatre, too. In a bold move, we audience members got to enjoy being surrounded by a bevy of be-frilled and be-corseted can-can dancers, making their way around the room like the entire building was their very own turn-of-the-century night club. In particular, the dancer who played Nini Legs-in-the-Air was uniquely striking, especially during her performance of ‘El Tango de Roxanne.’”
Damon wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed tight as I stared at the screen of my phone, flabbergasted. I knew it was only one line, but I’d gotten a mention in the review. This was massive. One of the biggest things to ever happen to me. The review was on The Guardian’s website. I’d gotten mentioned in a theatre review in the flippin’ Guardian!
“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I got a mention,” I exclaimed breathlessly.
“And why not? You should’ve gotten more than just one line, but perhaps I’m biased,” said Damon, kissing my neck. “Of course the reviewer noticed you. Your dancing is probably the best he’s ever seen.”
My phone dropped from my hand as Damon dragged me down and under his big, firm body. My legs straddled his waist as he bent to kiss me long and deep. I moaned into his mouth just as a knock sounded on my bedroom door. Julian didn’t even bother waiting to be invited inside — he simply burst into the room, waving his tablet in the air.
“A reviewer in The Guardian mentioned you in his review, Rose! In The Guardian!”
Damon and I pulled apart as we chuckled at Julian’s display. He hopped onto the bed, giddy as a child, and wrapped his arms around me. It was a good thing I had a T-shirt on, though I didn’t have anything underneath. Damon wore only his boxers, but he was a bloke. Men could get away with that sort of thing. Anyway, it wasn’t like Julian hadn’t seen me in various states of undress countless times before.
It was only as Julian let me go that he cast a smirk in Damon’s direction. “Christ, Atwood, at least buy me dinner first before you start waving that behemoth in my face. Go put some trousers on.”