by Bree Verity
“The ghost had better settle down, or I’ll come after him myself,” said Jane, and a burble of relieved laughter swept through the group. They disbursed, getting ready to start the act.
Penny turned back to the props table, grabbed her master list, and quickly put it to rights. Except for the handkerchief. It wasn’t there. Again.
She checked where it had been found the last time - no luck. Then she got on her hands and knees and checked under the props table. And there it was. Shaking her head, she picked up the offending item and dropped it in place on the table, just in time to hear Jane’s call, “Go.” She would have to ask Jane to make the announcement about touching other people’s things after the rehearsal.
The rest of the run was going smoothly enough, except for forgotten lines and the occasional prop malfunction - all part of the process of getting the show up to speed for opening night. Scripts had been put down weeks ago, and frustrated actors who absolutely knew their lines when they practiced them at home suddenly could hardly remember a word. It was times like these Penny was so glad she was on the other side of the curtain. She could have lists, and prompts set up all over the place reminding her what needed to be done. The actors? Not so much.
The only problem now was Marc. Penny remembered what happened in the carpark. She felt a bolt surge through her every time she brushed his arm or against his body as they passed each other. And he kept looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a sexy smile. It had to stop.
She made her way over to him, walking gently to avoid creaking the floor. He watched her approach, his eyes hungry in the dim backstage light. And while she promised herself that her purpose was to tell him to stop staring at her, each step closer she took sent chills down her spine and fire to her fingertips under his gaze.
“You’re like a siren,” he growled when she was in earshot. “A succubus come to tempt me.”
“Well I’m not. I’m just plain old Penny. And I wish you’d stop staring at me like that.”
A smile played along his lips. “Like what?”
She flushed. “Like you want to devour me. Like you’re summoning me to your side. You know what? It’s you who’s the siren.”
Were there even male sirens? Penny didn’t know, but the analogy was true. He seemed to draw her in, unwillingly, until she was standing far too close.
“Pen, about what happened…”
“It was a mistake, right?” Penny heard the pleading note in her voice.
“Yes. A mistake not to follow where it took us.”
Penny looked up into Marc’s eyes. He continued, “You can’t deny this thing, Pen. There’s something between us. There always has been.”
“But I’m not… I mean we can’t…”
“Why not? We’re both adults. And single. And I want to know you Pen. The real you. And I really, really want to do this.”
Marc reached for her and without even a moment’s hesitation, Penny stepped into his embrace like she had always been there. It was comfortable, warm, inviting. And then he kissed her.
All her worries from the past days melted away. Friends, family, attacks, the show - all were mixed and twisted together like a painter swirling colors on his palette. The only distinct thing was Marc. His lips on hers, not in a sweet, tender kiss, but demanding and possessive, pushing her mouth open and invading. Clashing his teeth against hers to get as close as possible. The only sound their wild breathing and gentle moans, the only taste, that of Marc’s sweet, sweet mouth. Penny threaded her hands into his hair, and he growled, pulling her closer, then he spun her, so her back was against the wall, never once unlocking their kiss. He pushed against her, his legs and pelvis, and Penny tried not to whimper at the need his body awoke in her.
Then his hands were roaming her body, up her arms first to her shoulders, then down, following the curve of her breast until he held them in his hands. He squeezed, and Penny would have groaned out loud had she not still been kissing him. His expert hands kneaded her breasts, his palms torturing her nipples into tall peaks. She shifted her legs, and Marc obligingly stepped in between. Penny rocked against his groin, working up her sexual appetite on the taste and smell and feel of him. She threw her head back, finally breaking the kiss, gasping out her need, and he latched on to her throat and down further, burrowing under the neck of her t-shirt to get to the soft, needy flesh below.
Penny would have been happy to remain in his embrace forever, only a tiny portion of the conversation onstage came through to her fuzzy consciousness, and she realised they were seconds away from a scene change. “Marc,” she said, somewhere between a whisper and a groan. “Scene six.”
He let go of her on a sigh of frustration. “I knew there was a tiger hiding in there somewhere,” he said. “This is not over.” And with that he stalked away to his designated place for the scene change.
Penny exhaled deeply, and crossed her arms over her chest, moving to position for the scene change, her mind in a whirl. What just happened? How did she go over there to tell him off and end up dry humping him in the wings? Was she just that starved for sex that the first offer she got from anyone was enough to send her hormones into overdrive?
She didn’t think so. There was something about Marc - something beyond just the lust. Oh, yes, he was definitely lust worthy. A knowing smile played over her face as she remembered rubbing up against him, mentally measuring the package he had hidden behind that jeans zipper. It would be fun to open that package.
But more than just lust worthy, right? Right. He also had that manner about him, that caring. He was just an attractive man, all round. Penny knew that. She’d known it for ages. She just hadn’t acted on it - had thought that perhaps she shouldn’t or couldn’t. Thought that he was too good for her, that she wasn’t worthy somehow.
But she was worthy right? Of something that felt so right? And it was good. It felt good to be desired, to be touched. Penny wanted to experience it again and again.
Maybe her relationship block was finally over? Maybe, all this time, she’d just been waiting for the right guy to break through her defenses?
Or maybe you’re just so horny that any guy with a pretty face who shows you some attention would be enough to turn you on.
Oh, shut up rational brain. Stop making life so boring.
In that moment, with a smile and a new spring in her step, Penny decided to let it take its own course. And for the first time in a long time, she was excited for what the near future might bring.
Chapter Eight
“Anyone would think you haven’t been on a date for years, the way you’re carrying on.”
Lydia lounged on Penny’s bed, flicking through an old issue of Cosmo and looking on as Penny pulled every single piece of clothing she owned out of her wardrobe, considered it for a moment, then cast it aside.
“I haven’t been on a date for years,” she replied. “At least, not a date with a guy that I actually like.”
Lydia frowned and glanced over the top of the magazine. “What’s that supposed to mean? You’ve been dating guys you don’t like? That’s just crazy.”
“No, I didn’t mean that. It’s just that…” She sighed. “I really like Marc. We’ve been friends for ages, and I’ve always kind of had a thing for him, but we’ve just never taken it any further. Not sure why. But now that we are? I really want it to work.”
Lydia smiled and stood up, coming over to give Penny a hug. “Me too, sweetie. You deserve it.” A frown crossed her face and Penny rolled her eyes.
“What is it?”
“He’s… you know he has that reputation, right? As a bit of a player?”
“I know.”
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
Penny grinned at Lydia’s concern. “Actually, it doesn’t. Somehow it kind of takes the pressure off a bit. Besides, we’re much more friends than anything else. He won’t treat me like one of his trophies.”
“No?”
“No.” Penny was firm, sure that she w
as right.
“Alright,” said Lydia, “so long as you’re not going in with your eyes closed.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay. I believe you. But Pen? if you don’t stop fussing, and start choosing something to wear, the dates going to be over before you even manage to get there!”
Penny looked down at her underwear-only clad body and laughed. “You’re right! Now, what to wear that says, ‘totally sexy’, but that also says ‘good girl’?”
“Well, ‘reasonably good girl’ maybe,” said Lydia with a wink. “We can’t come across as too good now, can we?”
In the end, Penny went for a tasseled suede jacket over a low-cut white tank top and hipster jeans. The band they were going to see was a bluesy, Australian folk outfit, so Penny thought anything more than jeans would be overdressed.
Pulling on knee-high boots over her jeans, she stood up and presented herself to Lydia. “Do I look okay? Is it too casual?”
“You look fine, Pen. Just the right combination of good girl and totally sexy.”
Penny opened her jewelery box and pulled out a long silver necklace with a bunch of charms on the end. Slipping it over her head, she said, “Thanks so much, Lydia, for dropping everything and coming over. I’m not sure how I would have gotten organized without you?”
“Hey, what are friends for, right?” Lydia hugged her tight. “You’ll be fine. And Marc will be bowled by how hot you look. You go girl!”
They had decided to meet at the bar, so Penny drove herself to the venue in her old Suzuki Vitara. She loved the old thing - it was a soft top that she had bought new a zillion years ago and that she never wanted to replace. Hopping out, she locked the doors and turned to walk into the venue.
The place was already cranking. Penny sidled up to the bar and shouted an order of cider to the cute bartender. He nodded and grinned at her, and she smiled back, only to hear in her ear, “As soon as I turn my back, there you are, flirting with the bar staff.”
A pair of sinuous bare arms wound their way around her waist, and a kiss was planted on her neck. She turned in Marc’s arms and kissed him on the lips. She almost laughed at Marc’s scowl behind her, when she turned to see the bartender’s studiously bland expression when he returned with her drink. She supposed it wasn’t that good an idea for the bartender to smile at the girls who were obviously taken. That could only lead to problems.
Obviously taken. She rolled the words around in her head a little and liked them. She liked the thought of being with someone. No, she liked the thought of being with Marc. And, she blushed a little as she thought cheekily, she was really looking forward to being taken by him.
Trying to settle her wandering, lusty thoughts, she lay the cool glass against her cheek for a moment, then took a long sip of cider. It was a crisp, dry apple - delicious on a cool evening. It was coming into autumn in Perth, and the nights were cooling down, even if the days were still a little warm.
Marc, too, ordered a drink, and then they, miraculously, found a place to sit in between some of the other patrons on a long bench. Penny was glad she had worn jeans now - trying to straddle a bench seat in a skirt was never much fun, and you always ran the risk of ending up with splinters in your arse.
“When does the band start?” Penny almost had to shout to make herself heard over the ever-increasing din in the room.
“Eight-thirty,” replied Marc, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “It’s eight-fifteen now, so still a few more minutes.”
“That’s cool.” Penny settled in, shoulder to shoulder with Marc. She could feel the heat emanating from him. And when he grabbed her hand and entwined his fingers in hers, she didn’t think she could be happier. She turned her face to him, and was rewarded with a long, sweet kiss full of promise. Looking into his eyes, she saw passion, but also restraint. He was making sure he didn’t freak her out. She only wished he knew just how far from freaking out she was, how comfortable it all felt. She hoped all her emotions were clear in her return kiss, which was just as long, but very far from sweet.
“Get a room,” she heard someone mutter, and she flushed. They were right, whoever they were. Now was not the time to straddle him or force her tongue down his throat. That could wait for later.
He leaned in and, in reply to the mutterer, but in a voice only Penny could hear, he said, “Don’t worry, mate. We will be.” Penny giggled, bumping her shoulder against Marc’s.
“Naughty,” she said.
“But accurate?” He said the words lightly, but the question was like fire reflecting in his eyes.
“Oh, yes,” she breathed in reply, and his hand tightened around hers.
His smoldering stare was one of the sexiest things Penny had ever seen. He raised one provocative eyebrow. “Now?” he suggested.
He disengaged his hand from hers, and put it on her upper leg, fingers caressing the inside of her thigh. Seated there, in amongst the rabble of people, with Marc’s questing fingers so close to her quickly firing core, Penny inhaled sharply. Glancing around, she was sure everyone was looking at her, the girl who was getting turned on even as they all sat there.
One particular twitch of Marc’s fingers had her gasping, and she uttered huskily, “I think we’d better go.”
“I think we should,” he growled in her ear.
They reached Penny’s car in record time. She turned her back to the Vitara, and Marc was right there, in front of her. His hands slid up her body from her waist, up under her top.
“Pen,” Marc breathed into her hair, his hands beneath her singlet and firmly clamped around her breasts. “This is so hot.” He pushed her back against the side of her car, jamming himself up against her, dropping one breast so he could cup her ass, but kneading the other breast with his enthusiastic hand. He dropped hot kisses along her neck and jawline, using not only his lips but also his teeth and tongue to blaze the trail.
She threw her head back. It was so totally horny, to be making out right here, where anyone could be watching. She hoped they were giving whoever was watching a thrill. She threaded her fingers through the belt loops on his jeans and pulled him as close as she could. She felt wild and desirable. She let go of his belt, and untucked his shirt as quickly as she could, running both of her palms up his smooth, muscled chest, and then reversing them so she could push her hands down, fingertips first, and feel his growing erection through his jeans. She was pleased to hear him gasp.
“Marc,” she said throatily. “Let’s move this inside the car.” Even in her aroused state, Penny had no desire to be snapped for someone’s Instagram feed.
They threw themselves into the backseat of the Vitara as soon as Penny unlocked the doors. With Marc’s hands and lips still all over her, Penny had a hard time dropping the backseats, but soon they were kneeling on the perfectly acceptable makeshift bed of the Vitara’s boot space.
With a wrench, Penny pulled herself away from Marc and the two of them stared at each other across the tiny gap between them, hungry and breathless. She moved first, pulling Marc’s t-shirt off, gasping in pleasure at the sight of his muscular planes in the light from the carpark, running her fingertips all over, flittering from his shoulders, down his pecs and to the v-shaped muscle that disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. When he tried to touch her, she slapped his hands away, saying, “Not yet,” and continued her tactile exploration of his skin, a half-smile on her face, waiting for him to be tempted beyond what he could bear.
It was her fingers dipping below his waistband that broke him. With a growl he snagged her around the waist and pulled her in close, taking her lips in a kiss of power and possession. “You don’t get to push me away anymore.” She had never expected Marc to be such an alpha, but she loved it. She let him take her jaw in his hand and draw her chin forward, so he could kiss her deeper. His tongue fought for supremacy, swirling around hers in a panting, primal battle that Penny was happy to concede.
As they kissed, he gently lay her backwards, letting her
shift her legs so they weren’t bent up underneath her, and laying himself along her length. He pulled her singlet up and, together, they removed it, Penny unclasping her bra at the same time, never taking her eyes off Marc’s face. She wanted to see his reaction when she took her bra off, when her breasts spilled out.
He groaned out loud, seemingly unable to take his eyes off her breasts. Feathering his fingers over them reverently he said, “You’re so white and beautiful.” His soft touch drove Penny crazy, and she arched up, so he would know she wanted more.
“Is this what you want?” he hissed and put his head down to take her pale pink nipple in his mouth. Her moan of, “Yes, yes,” gave him permission to suckle and nip at her, holding her breasts with his hands, and bringing her nipples to bright pink frenzy. Her head was spinning with the sensations he created low in her stomach. She knew she was wet, and ready for him whenever he decided to move along.
But he seemed quite content with ravaging her breasts and so Penny took the lead from his actions, bringing her own hands up to tweak his nipples. He jumped as if she had attached a car battery to them, then let out a long moan, “God, Penny, you know just what to do.” She tweaked again and was satisfied to see him jump again. A wicked smile crossed her face and one eyebrow raised. “So, you have sensitive nipples, do you?” For a moment she saw a flash of panic in his eyes, before she lifted her upper body, so she could gently bite one of the tiny, hard knobs of flesh. She felt, rather than saw, his head fall back, and he whispered, “More.” Happy to oblige, she licked, sucked and nibbled on his chest, feeling his skin heating up under her lips. His errant breathing and the sound of her mouth against his pec were the only sounds for a moment or two, before he growled again, and pushed her to the floor, pinning her shoulders down.
“You should be punished for that mouth,” he said as he kissed her fiercely. “That thing is a weapon.”
“I have other weapons,” she suggested, bringing her hands around to his ass and bucking her hips beneath him as she stared boldly into his eyes.