Shifted

by Lizzie Lynn Lee

  Kelly skimmed the script. “Geez. They require a script just to make a stupid X-rated movie?”

  Fitch gave her a funny look again. She probably thought Kelly was completely out of her mind. “Of course. It’s a feature film.”

  “So you’re saying there are unscripted ones?”

  “It’s called gonzo. You starred in seventy-five gonzos before you made your first feature. How could you forget that?”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “I’m not. You really need to see a doctor about your…amnesia problem, Miss Evers. It seems to be getting worse.”

  Kelly blinked. If Fitch was her assistant at the firm, she would fire her on the spot for making such a remark, but then again, maybe Nicolla Evers was so screwy that someone like Fitch had to point out the obvious. She resisted an urge to counter her smarminess, and instead, she followed Fitch to Strickland’s office through a labyrinth of individual movie sets. People bustled around them, men with cables and props, and actresses being primped by makeup artists.

  Fitch herded her away from the cacophonous chaos into a private, enclosed set. It looked like an office with tasteful furniture and neutral colour coordinates. The crews were busy with the lighting when Kelly got in. Everybody paused what they were doing, looking in her direction. She froze in her tracks. Cold panic seized her. God, I really can’t do this.

  “Nicolla.” A middle-aged man with a stern face and a curt voice snapped her out of her frozen fear. Fitch addressed him as Mr Strickland. He was an elegant man, dressed in a designer suit and expensive jewellery, reflecting his taste in high fashion. He wasn’t the man Kelly had expected him to be. And both Fitch and Strickland were Normies, surprising her, since most people who worked in District One were usually Misfits.

  “How are you this morning?” Strickland enquired with a casual tone. “Are you fit for work?”

  Kelly shrugged. “Kind of.”

  Strickland’s eyes cut to the sheaf of scripts in Kelly’s hand. “Did you memorise your lines?”

  “This?” Hell, she’d just got it a minute ago. Kelly shook her head. “Not really. I was busy.”

  “Busy partying?”

  “Kind of.” Kelly tried imitating Nicolla’s body language.

  Strickland jabbed a finger at her shoulder, his voice lowering to a growl, but the message was clear—he was pissed off. “When I come back from Newport, we’re going to have a long talk about your spoilt behaviour, Nicolla. This has been going on long enough. Your shenanigans cost me money.” He snapped his fingers at a tall man in a red flannel shirt. The man dropped what he was doing and came by. It turned out he was the director of the movie. “Our Nicky here has her usual problem this morning. Skip scene four and go straight to the insertion shot today.” Strickland turned to Fitch. “After the shoot, escort her home and make sure she stays sober to work tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir,” both Fitch and the director said at the same time.

  Strickland leant forward, close enough that Kelly could smell the nauseating stench of cigars. “I’m very disappointed in you, Nicolla.”

  Kelly blinked. For a moment, she didn’t know what to do. Should she act scared? Defiant? What would the real Nicolla do? Maybe she should give her a call later today to synch up a lot of matters.

  Strickland threw her another displeased look and stalked away. Judging from the way people around him cowered, Kelly had a pretty good idea she should be careful with Strickland. She wasn’t afraid of him. She’d seen his type enough during her career. She could handle them, both professionally and personally.

  The director stared at her, deadpan. “Well, you’ve outdone yourself today, Miss Evers. Are you ready to work now?”

  “What’s an insertion shot?”

  The director turned to Fitch. He looked pissed off too. “She’s fucking kidding me, right?”

  Fitch massaged her temples, choosing not to answer.

  Kelly found out about the mystery behind the insertion shot about half an hour later, after the man who was responsible for her makeup had released her from his scrutiny. Fitch herded her onto the set. Kelly guessed that she had to perform the sex act on the office desk.

  She saw Tyler in there with his twin brother, Gunnar. Both were naked and their magnificent erections jutted from their crotches. For a moment, she couldn’t distinguish between the two until one of them kissed her on the lips and whispered, “Love.” He was Tyler—she recognised his voice.

  Gunnar was stroking his cock, working himself up into a turgid state. He gave her a secret smile and a wink. Kelly cringed, feeling uncomfortable. They were naked and about to perform the most sacred form of human intimacy, and yet people around them seemed to treat it like it was no big problem. Especially the still nameless director.

  He clapped, demanding people’s attention. “For this shot, Miss Evers should lie supine on the desk, you—Tyler—take one of her legs up and penetrate her from this angle. After we get that nicely going, Gunnar, give her a rim job and fuck her ass. Spread it around about five to ten minutes, and let’s see how we’re doing. If we’re lucky, we only need one take, and we’ll able to finish three scenes ahead today. Any questions?”

  Kelly wanted to crawl under the table and die. This was so embarrassing. How could someone do this job for a living? She counted about eleven people staring at them with their cameras, microphones and lighting, attending to the director’s orientation. Her knees weakened again, and she would have fallen if she wasn’t leaning against the desk and holding on to the ledge.

  “Honey, are you okay?” Gunnar looked worried. His voice was deeper than his brother’s, throatier. Her excited inner cat purred at the presence of another Bengal. “You look pale.”

  “Our Nicky has been unusually quiet since last night,” Tyler answered.

  Our Nicky? Kelly wondered. What exactly was the relationship between Nicolla and these two studs? Did she date them both? At the same time? Outrageous!

  The director took one good look at her and dismissed her as only being cranky. “Miss Evers looks fine to me. We should start. Now.”

  The crew moved, taking their positions. Fitch wanted Kelly to take off her robe. She obeyed half-heartedly. She was mortified being naked in front of so many people. “Don’t worry, love,” Tyler comforted her. He had a bottle of lubricant in his hand. “We’ll make it fun.”

  “Super extra fun until you’ve creamed,” Gunnar added.

  “I’ve what?” Alarmed, Kelly stared at them both.

  Gunnar exchanged a glance with Tyler. “Why is she still playing her amnesia game?”

  “She’s just unwell. Give her a break.” Tyler lifted her off the floor and spread her on the desk. The lighting person and the cameraman stepped closer.

  “You got a good woody there, Ty?” the director wanted to know.

  Tyler stroked his cock several times. “Yeah.”

  “We’ll start in two.”

  Kelly’s heart hammered inside her rib cage. She wanted to take back what she’d said to Nicolla earlier. She couldn’t do her job. Her face was boiling with shame as Tyler pushed her legs apart and squeezed lubricant on her pussy. Cool gel trailed on her sex. The lighting person had moved even closer and shone his apparatus so the cameraman could get nice, clear footage of her genitals. She shut her eyes. No, she couldn’t do this. All her life, she’d always felt insecure about her own sexuality. She rarely inspected how her pussy looked, and now she was being proffered like a piece of perverted offering so everyone could see her deepest, most intimate secret out in the open. No. This wasn’t right. She wouldn’t do this, ever.

  Kelly wrenched free from Tyler’s grip, scrambling down. “I can’t do it.”

  “What the fuck are you up to now, Miss Evers?” the director yelled from his chair.

  “I can’t work today. I need to go home.” Kelly dashed into the dressing room. Tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t see straight. The makeup artist was startled to see her storm in, but he didn’t da
re squeak a word. Kelly grabbed her clothes to get dressed when Tyler and Gunnar followed her in.

  “Nick, what’s wrong?” Tyler asked.

  Kelly quickly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m not feeling well. That’s all.”

  Gunnar grabbed a towel to cover his nakedness, studying her as if he’d just realised something. “You’re not feeling well. I think there’s something off about you.” He turned to his brother. “Noticed anything? I haven’t heard her swearing today.”

  Kelly was alarmed. She had to get out of this place now. If both Tyler and Gunnar were Nicolla’s lovers, they might suspect something. She couldn’t play this charade too long. “I’m just…feeling crappy lately, okay? Leave me alone.”

  The director stormed in. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m going home.” Kelly slipped on her dress and grabbed her shoes.

  “We have a movie to shoot.”

  “Not today. I’m out of here.”

  The director fumed. “Mr Strickland will hear about this!”

  “I’m scared,” she replied in a bland tone. “Very, very scared.”

  He stormed out, slamming the door with vehemence. Gunnar shook his head at her. “That’s not good, babe.”

  “Should I worry?”

  “You should.”

  Kelly sighed. “I’m leaving.”

  Tyler caught her arm. “Wait, kitten. Give me five minutes. Let me get dressed and I’ll drive you home.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. Five minutes, and that’s final.”

  Tyler and Gunnar insisted on taking her home. Kelly was quiet during the ride and withdrew into her bedroom when she arrived. She wanted to call Nicolla to ask about the interview meeting, but it was still too early—Nicolla was more than likely still in the office with her bosses. She hoped Nicolla could pull it off, unlike herself who had ruined the film shoot. Kelly felt bad and frustrated. She didn’t know how long she could keep this charade going or how to find a way to switch back.

  She slipped into the most unflattering of Nicolla’s pyjamas she could find and dived into the bed. She needed a nap and to think. Maybe after a good rest, she’d be able to find a solution to their problem. There had to be a way. There had to.

  Just as she was about to close her eyes, Tyler followed her to bed. He slipped under the covers and snuggled behind her. “Nick, you want to talk about what’s going on?”

  Kelly squirmed, wide-eyed. The last thing she needed right now was Tyler in her bed. She couldn’t think whenever he was near. His raw power of sexuality was too tempting to resist. To her dismay, Gunnar also joined them. She wasn’t sure. How could she handle two Bengals when she had trouble keeping up with one?

  “Nicky, babe,” Gunnar whispered, “are you feeling all right?”

  “Honestly, I need some me time if you don’t mind. I want to take a nap.”

  Gunnar bullied his way into bed so Kelly soon found herself being sandwiched between the two men. “You can take a nap. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Tyler piped up his agreement. “We’re worried about you.”

  “Very. Especially when you wear these pyjamas. You hated everything Harry bought for you,” Gunnar added.

  Oh, damn. Kelly scrambled to sit up. “If I tell you what’s going on, will you leave me alone?”

  “That depends,” Tyler answered.

  “Maybe.” Gunnar gave her a naughty grin.

  Kelly exhaled a long breath, thinking about how to make this whole thing sound reasonable. “I couldn’t remember anything when I woke up this morning. I can’t remember my job, my friends or anything about my life. I don’t remember about you two. Are we…have we been seeing one another for long?”

  Both Tyler and Gunnar stared at her with mouths half open. Gunnar recovered first, pointing a finger at his brother. “What kind of drug did you give her?”

  “I didn’t give her anything. You know I’m trying to keep her clean.”

  “Please!” Kelly interrupted. “I don’t need this right now.”

  “You can’t remember us?” Gunnar sounded scandalised. “Well, we have to make you remember again then.”

  “Ditto.” Tyler looked serious. “You’ve had this amnesia since this morning?”

  Kelly nodded, feeling guilty for lying.

  “The thing is, you keep forgetting almost on a daily basis, Nick. We thought this was your self-defence mechanism.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “You’re on anti-depressants.”

  “I am? Why?”

  Gunnar smiled bitterly. “Because you hate everything.”

  “Why?”

  “God.” Gunnar looked at his brother. “She really doesn’t remember anything.”

  “Kitten.” Tyler touched her shoulder. “We’re screwed, that’s why. Harry cheated us. We’re bound to work for him until we die.”

  “That’s nonsense. Have you seen a lawyer to get out of the contract?”

  “They can’t help us. We’ve tried.”

  “I mean, have you seen a really good lawyer?”

  “You mean outside the District? We can’t afford them.”

  “Don’t I make a lot of money?” Kelly became confused.

  “Harry makes a lot of money. Not you. Not us. We told you, we’re screwed.” Tyler ran his hand along her arm. “Enough talking about Harry. We should do something about your amnesia.”

  “Agreed. We ought to make you remember about us again. Maybe nice, hot, sweaty nookie?” Gunnar suggested, pressing his body to Kelly.

  “I was thinking about taking her to the doctor, but your idea is so much better. We’ll take her to see Dr Brown later.”

  “But—” Kelly protested.

  “No buts,” Gunnar cut in. “It’s crazy you can’t remember us. We’ve been seeing each other for two years. You badly need a reminder—”

  “Of why you’re seeing us in the first place,” Tyler finished.

  “But—”

  “Shhh, no buts.” Gunnar sat up and started to unbutton her pyjamas. “Bra? Since when do you wear a bra? I don’t remember you even owning one. Never mind, we need to loosen this up.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Kitten, be good.” Tyler worked on her pyjama bottoms. With one swift move, he pulled her pants down to her ankles.

  “Tyler! Oh…” Kelly covered her breasts when Gunnar yanked her bra off. “Give that back.”

  Gunnar crushed her lips with his as an answer. Kelly’s breath stalled in her throat. The kiss was feral, full of greed. His lips mashed hers, his tongue prising her mouth open. Kelly accepted him with a muffled moan. He settled his hands on her breasts, feeling her, exploring her curves. Kelly felt aroused. Her nipples hardened at his first touch, and a flutter of pleasant sensation rippled from the depths of her pussy.

  Kelly jumped when soft kisses rained on her hips. Tyler was there, trailing more sloppy, wet kisses down to the juncture of her thighs. Her panties came off next, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Gunnar had made sure she couldn’t squeak a protest—he drowned her with ravenous kisses to the point she couldn’t breathe. She clawed his shoulder and tore her mouth from his.

  “God!” she yelled, unthinking. Tyler had licked her pussy lips while she was struggling to get free from Gunnar’s kiss.

  “Nick.” Tyler growled. “You love having your pussy eaten.”

  “I do?”

  Gunnar swore, talking to his brother, “Kitten’s really losing it. Get some whipped cream from the fridge.”

  “What? No. What’s that for?” Kelly panicked.

  “So your pussy tastes even sweeter.” Tyler gestured to Gunnar. “You get that whipped cream, G.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m…” Her words died out when Tyler and Gunnar glared down at her.

  “Do you want to know why are you seeing us, Nick? Do you want to remember everything again?” Tyler asked.

/>   “Yes, but—”

  “You have to trust us. Why have you turned shy all of a sudden?”

  Kelly swallowed hard. She wasn’t too adventurous about exploring her sexuality. She’d never tried anything but vanilla sex with Andi. On their honeymoon in Verve Island, she’d let Andi go down on her once, but she hadn’t really enjoyed it. She was embarrassed about having her pussy licked. She didn’t know why—she just was.

  “Do you trust us?”

  She considered her options, realising she didn’t have any. She couldn’t risk ruining Nicolla’s relationship with Tyler and Gunnar, not after what she’d done at her movie shoot this morning. “Fine.”

  “Good kitty.” Tyler nodded to his brother about the whipped cream. “Don’t start without me.” Gunnar slipped down from the bed, grinning.

  “Define what you mean by starting.” Tyler winked at her, his lips curled into a naughty smile. “I’m just getting comfortable.”

  From the hallway, Gunnar shouted something that suspiciously sounded like, “Don’t be a dickhole.”

  Tyler pulled off his shirt and unbuckled his jeans. Kelly looked the other way while he got undressed. She crossed her legs, listening to the wild drumming of her heart. She twitched when Tyler touched her. He pushed her thighs open again. “Now, where were we?”

  She suppressed her whimper. Tyler ran his hands from her shoulders, down to her breasts and belly then down to her pussy. His touches were light, causing her to shiver. The familiar aches thrummed from her sex, and new heat ignited. He didn’t break eye contact while he was touching her. His gaze told her so much more. Full adoration that she was his goddess, his idol and one he couldn’t live without. “Tell me why you’re turning so shy?”

  Kelly bit her lip. Tyler spread her pussy lips open, his thumb playing with her clit. She moistened. “I-I don’t know.”

  “You know. You just won’t tell me.”

  She squeaked. Tyler traced a finger into her opening and dipped a knuckle inside her. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “How come?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just embarrassing.”

  Tyler pulled his finger out and oiled her pussy lips with her own juice. “You’re being silly. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”