by J. J. McAvoy
“Perfect!” My mother clapped her hands. “Amelia, let’s have a spa date.”
Let’s not, I wanted to say. However, I found myself walking away with her, even when I really wanted to go to him.
“You’re not seeing him again, are you?” she asked, linking her arm with mine.
“What?” I stopped before we got the doors.
“Ollie told me you were having a hard time—”
“Why are you talking to Ollie?” I questioned.
“I was just calling to check up on you—”
“Then you call me!” I snapped, pulling my arm from hers. “If you want to check up on me, Mother, you call me, not my manager and not anyone else.”
“Sweetheart.” She gave me the evil eye, taking my hand again. “People are watching. Let’s not make a scene. I’m didn’t want to bother you. I know you tense up whenever I’m around, so I thought Ollie was the next best choice. Besides, I’m your mother. Shouldn’t you remember to call me? I’m sorry, okay? I really miss doing this stuff with you. It sucks. You went and grew up on me too quickly,” she added, wiping the corner of her eyes.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “I just don’t know when you’re being my mom and when you’re being my other manager.”
“Sweetheart, I’m always your mom. Now stop frowning. You’ll give yourself wrinkles, and then how will you find work?”
“Mom!”
“Kidding! I’m just kidding!” she laughed, pulling me into a hug. “Sort of.”
Rolling my eyes at her, I hugged her back as she reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of cat-eyed white sunglasses. She looked so ridiculous I could only laugh, but laughing with her felt good.
Noah
Despite what I said to her when we first met again, I never thought she couldn’t play Blair. I just never wanted her to for several selfish reasons.
First, I wasn’t over her. Being in a movie with her would only make it harder for me…and I was right.
Second, there was no way in hell I was comfortable with anyone else seeing her naked.
Third, Damon and I had similar desires, so it wouldn’t be acting for me. The moment I saw her, I wouldn’t be able to see her as Blair Hawthorne.
I knew where every freckle on her body was, and I had memorized each one of her curves. When it came to sex, I could barely control myself. Now, for the sake of a movie, I was going to be pushed to do things I had only dreamt of doing to her.
The director said he wanted this to be tasteful, that it wasn’t pornography. But that just proved how naïve he was. Did he think I could tie her up, punish her, kiss her, and suck every inch of her and make that look tasteful? Sex was not tasteful. Sex is, if you’re doing it correctly, pornographic.
“Noah…it’s 9:00 a.m.” Austin opened the door of my room. We were shooting the scene in the same hotel we were staying in, only this time in the penthouse suite.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Excited to have her.
Annoyed others would see her.
So fucking confused.
But “fine,” was all I could say. In the back of my mind as we rode the elevator up, I could see her face glaring at me for saying “fine” again. But what else could I say? No one ever wanted to know the real answer. No one, maybe, with the expectation of her.
“Penthouse suite,” an automatic voiced recited once the doors opened. I was expecting at least a dozen or so people. However, it was only the director, a nurse, two camera and sound technicians, a makeup artist, and Amelia’s manager.
“Like we promised, we kept the crew as small as possible,” the director said to Oliver.
“I’m going to excuse myself as well. If she needs anything, please have her call me,” Oliver responded, leaving a small bag, a bottle of water, and her favorite gum on her chair. He didn’t acknowledge me when he walked by, nodding only to Austin before he entered the elevators.
“Is Amelia ready?”
“Yes,” she said as she appeared from what I could only guess was the bathroom on the other side of the living room. She was dressed in a white cotton robe. Her dark brown hair fell down in loose waves over her shoulder. The dark pink lipstick and light eye shadow, Blair’s signature, made her look less sweet—as I had always known her—and more sexual.
The director took a step forward “Amelia, if you feel uncomfortable at any time…”
“I’ll use the safe word?” she replied.
“Amelia. Seriously,” I said to her.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Guys, thank you, I got it. Okay. Let’s start. With any luck, we can get these down with one take.”
“Alright, everyone, places,” said the director.
Pulling off my shirt and throwing it to Austin, I offered her my hand, which she didn’t take. Instead, she held her head up high, the smile never once leaving her face as she walked toward the bedroom. She had that same confidence this morning when she delivered one of the best monologues I’d heard in a long time. Even the scriptwriter couldn’t complain. She only wondered why the hell she hadn’t thought of it herself.
“This is scene twelve, Damon ties Blair,” the director stated as someone handed me the red rope.
“I hoped you practiced,” she said, undoing the belt of her robe. With one small action, it fell to the ground.
Jesus….I cannot do this. Instinctively, I stepped in front of her, blocking her body with mine. It would only work until we started, but still.
“So is that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ on the practicing?” she questioned casually. However, my eyes were glued to her breasts, remembering how perfectly they fit into my hands just a few days ago. “Noah?”
“Yeah…I’ve done it before,” I replied. Shit. I hadn’t meant to tell her that.
Biting her lip, she nodded, and I could see her chest rise anxiously. Closing the distance between her and myself, I cupped her cheek.
“No one else in the room but us, right?” she whispered.
“Yeah, no one but us…” I agreed.
“Amelia, once we start, just follow the guidelines from the stage directors,” the director shouted, and I was tempted to beat the shit out of him.
“Ignore him and follow my lead, okay?” I told her.
“So just keep doing what I’ve been doing?” she asked, snickering.
Placing my hands on her shoulders, slowly I turned her around. “BDSM isn’t about pain. It’s about pleasure. None of this is to hurt you or make you feel scared. But it is going to feel odd at first. The more you trust me, the better it will feel.”
“Action.”
Any restraint I had died with that one word.
“What am I going to do with you, Blair?” I whispered, kneeling beside her, brushing her hair to the side, and kissing the nape of her neck.
“Why ask questions you already know the answer to?”
Dropping to her knees and placing her hand behind her back like the script instructed, I took a step back, breathing in through my nose, trying to calm myself down—but it was hopeless. The curve of her back, her ass, everything about her made me hard.
Holding her wrist in place, I fed the rope between both of her arms, ignoring the camera that panned in to focus on every moment. Her body arched forward the higher I went, securing the knots as I worked.
“Ah…” she gasped, but I didn’t stop.
Amelia and Blair both knew their safe words.
Amelia
I’d never felt anything like this in my whole life.
My skin was as hot as fire, and I couldn’t stop moaning.
I couldn’t move. My arms and chest were bound, but it was more than that: it felt as though my whole body was competently under his firm control.
“You have no idea how beautiful you look right now,” he said, relaxed in the chair before me. In one hand was a glass of champagne, and in the other was a leather riding-crop. Rising to his feet, he downed the drink, threw the glass to the side, and h
eld my neck. Lifting my chin, he kissed me hard. I could taste the champagne on his tongue, and I wanted more.
“Ah!” I gasped when he beat my nipple.
“Don’t be greedy,” he teased.
“Again,” I begged biting my lip.
He forced me to stare into his eyes, smirked, and said, “No.”
“Master, please—”
Slap. It stung, but it also felt amazing.
“Who gives the orders here?” he asked.
“You.”
“Who?” he demanded again.
“You!”
Like a wolf around a sheep, he circled me, his whip gliding over my skin in between the ties of the rope. When he got to my nipples again, slap.
I was so wet, so horny, I wanted to cry out in frustration.
With one gentle push, I was on my side, watching as he stared down me hungrily, his whip gently—almost like a feather—working up from my toes, legs, and thighs. Then he rounded the curve of my ass.
Slap.
“Master—”
“Shh…” was his only reply as the whip found its way between my thighs. “Spread your legs.”
I followed his order. Anything he wanted in that moment, he could have had.
“Look how wet you are, Blair.”
Slap.
“Oh!” I gasped as pleasure ripped through my body so forcefully that I clenched my legs shut.
“I’m not done yet. Open them,” he demanded, but I couldn’t. “It’s only going to hurt you more, baby, to go against me. Open. Them.”
I did.
Slap.
Slap.
Slap.
He didn’t stop his assault on my pussy, and I couldn’t bring myself to stop him. It was so fucking good. Shamelessly, I spread my legs even wider, wiggling with need on the carpet.
“Why do you torture me, Blair?” he whispered, kneeling between my legs. “I can’t hold back any longer.”
Excited, I couldn’t wait to feel him inside me. However, that never came. He was above me, and I could feel his hard-on pressed up against me with only his boxers to separate us. He thrust forward, his eyes never leaving mine. We were acting. I had forgotten so quickly. Even hearing him call me “Blair” didn’t bring back reality. It was the fact that he couldn’t actually fuck me. I was annoyed, but I couldn’t let it show on my face.
Damn it! Screw Damon. I wanted Noah, now.
Noah
I’d never experienced as much torture in my whole life as I did this evening.
The moment our shoot ended, I was only strong enough to grab her robe and put it over her before leaving. I didn’t care what the director or anyone had to say. I needed to fuck.
And as if God had heard my prayers, my phone buzzed.
“Your room ten minutes.”
Chapter Eight
Noah
Did she say ten minutes or ten fucking years?
It had been an hour since she texted me, and she was either playing the world’s cruelest joke or someone got in her way. With Amelia, I could never tell.
“Noah?”
You would have thought I was a damn rocket with how quickly I was out of my bed and in the front of my suite. She stood there in a skirt and a t-shirt, holding the red rope in one hand and the whip in the other. Her blue eyes were covered in only one thing…lust.
“Do it again,” she demanded.
Was this heaven or hell? I had no idea, but I was glad to be there.
“I can’t.” It was all I could get out before rushing to her, bringing her lips to mine. I kissed her hard and passionately, knowing full well this time nothing would stop us. And she kissed me back.
Amelia
The fire I felt before came back with a vengeance. I texted him, planning to run to him right after. However, the director cornered me to talk about the most irrelevant things on the planet, like making sure to make eye contact with the camera and trying to keep my moaning softer. I wanted to ask him if anyone had ever whipped his pussy. There was no soft anything in that scene. But again, it was irrelevant, because his lips were on mine now. Not Damon and Blair, but Noah and Amelia.
My back pressed against the door, and he stared at me as if I were the most important person in the world. His lips hovered over mine, but he didn’t kiss me.
“Why did you stop?” I frowned.
He smirked, cupping the side of my face softly. “Because I’m waiting for you to tell me what you want.”
He’d never once asked me that question. I just followed his lead. I didn’t mind. If people thought of me as a doormat, I didn’t care, because at the end of the day, I was still right by him. He kissed my head and then my nose before stopping again at my lips.
“What do you want, Amelia? Say it.”
“Make love to me,” I whispered, taking off my shirt and throwing it to the side. “That’s what I want.”
When he kissed me this time, it felt like just like the one in the kitchen. Passionate. My whole body leaned into him, and when it did, he lifted me up off my feet. Placing me in the center of his bed, he kissed down the side of my neck.
“Ah…” I shivered when he cupped my breast, his thumb rubbing over my nipple before kissing both of them. His lips then made their way down my stomach. Slowly, he peeled off my skirt, letting it fall to my ankles. He sat up above me, his hands slipping two fingers between my thighs already.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispered in my ear as I clenched his arm, rocking against the pleasure of his hands.
All too soon, he left me, his tongue tracing around my nipples once more on his way down between my legs. He spread them gently and kissed my clit. Pulling his hands out, his tongue took their place, and my legs wrapped around his head. My hands grabbed the sides of the bed, holding dearly as his tongue explored every inch of me until I couldn’t take it, grabbing a fistful of hair. His grip on my thighs tightened, but he never once stopped as I rocked against his mouth.
“Oh!” I cried out, my eyes rolling, and I licked my lips. It felt too good. He was too good. It felt like he kept pulling me to him. As he licked and sucked, my toes curled. My back arched to him.
“Oh God, yes!” I gasped, my chest rising and falling from the high I had just experienced from his mouth alone. I sat up on my knees. When he rose, he pulled off his shirt, casting it aside before hugging me to his chest and kissing me. The fact that I could taste myself on his tongue drove me insane with lust.
“I want you,” I whispered, kissing his hard, bare chest softly, my hand running down each one of his abs.
“You have me,” he replied, his hands going to my hair.
I smiled, my hands pulling at the waist of his pants. “Then I want you inside of me.”
He pushed me onto my back. Taking off his pants, he crawled on top of me, my heart racing as he brushed up against me. His hands slipped to mine, holding them to my sides.
“I want you to have what you want,” he said above me, and with one thrust, my mouth dropped open as he entered me.
“Amelia,” he moaned, burying himself deeper in me. One of his hands moved down to hold my waist. Not once did he look away from me, and it felt like my heart was going to burst. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I held him closer to me. I never wanted to let go.
Slow.
Sensual.
Passionate.
Beautiful.
In this moment, it felt like we shared everything. Even our breathing was in sync. He hugged me and I him. I moved against every thrust, my body crying out for him in the best ways imaginable.
“Noah,” I moaned, biting my lips.
He kissed the side of my jaw. “Again…my name. Say it again.”
“Noah.” That did it. He smiled, grabbing both of my thighs, and thrust deeper than I thought possible.
I was in heaven: the feel of him in me, on top of me, his lips all over me. I was sure this was heaven. And I never wanted it to end.
Noah
“Noah!” she screamed, her nails clawing at my back as she came.
I want to hear her cry out for me more. She drove me insane, she felt like—
“Fuck,” I hissed at just how tight she was. I couldn’t hold back anymore. Speeding up, her legs wrapped around me and—
“Amelia!” I kissed her as I came.
Resting on top of her as she held me, never once breaking apart, we kissed, rolling around in my bed for a moment before we had to break away in need of oxygen.
“Wow,” she said, taking deep breaths now on top of me.
“Wow,” I repeated, my hands on her back as I reclined against the pillows.
She laid against me as my hands ran down the length of her back and sides. I felt amazing, and most of all, I wanted to be with her again.
“What do you want, Noah?” she whispered, sitting up to look at me.
“What?”
She repeated herself, this time more slowly. “What. Do. You. Want?”
I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to make love to her. I wanted to dance in my kitchen with her again. I wanted her.
“You,” I whispered, brushing her hair back.
“Then take me.” She said it like it was so damn easy. But it wasn’t. “We can try us…this. If it doesn’t work—”
“We’ll end up doing another movie together in ten years?” I joked, and she smacked my chest.
“I’m serious.”
I knew she was.
“It’s 3:00 a.m., Amelia. Can we save this for tomorrow?”
“Will you still be here tomorrow? And I don’t mean the movie set or the same hotel. Will you still be in bed with me tomorrow?”
I wanted to be. So I said what I wanted and hoped that was enough.
“I’ll be here,” I assured her.
5:19am
It had only been two hours since I promised Amelia I would be with her when she woke up. But looking at the text on my phone, I already knew I was going to have to break it. I wrote her a note, hoping that would be enough until I got back. But it wouldn’t be. I already knew that, but I still had to tell her anyway. I wanted to wake her up, but if I couldn’t tell her the truth, what was the point?