by Sierra Hill
The frustration is now welling up, ready to explode like a cannon, and all the good vibes from last night are quickly evaporating as I do my singular best to avoid stomping my feet.
I look down at my hand and notice I’m clenching it into a fist.
Yup. Time to go get me some more Theo sex-therapy.
“Mom, I gotta go. I’ll call you later this week after my “ridiculous” play rehearsals. Love you. Bye.”
And then I hang up just as she’s trying to say goodbye.
I know, I sound like a childish, spoiled brat.
But can you blame me?
And if she ever finds out about Theo…an actor/playwright without a home?
Good lord, I’ll never hear the end of that.
For some reason, she thinks that only men with medical or law degrees are worthy of her daughter. Unless, of course they happen to be Martin French.
Chapter Twenty
Theo
I’ll be your boy toy
I wake to find the spot beside me in bed empty and I hear muffled one-sided conversation coming from the living room.
The tone of Joey’s voice indicates she’s not happy. It’s snarky with a little bite.
I actually enjoyed that bite last night.
It had been months – no, maybe close to a year – since I’d had really great sex. As things began to die off between me and Alyssa, our sex life withered away, too. She was always tired, or stressed or not even around – always out with some friends or studying at the library. So, I became reacquainted with my hand. A lot.
Sad, but true.
And while my hand was quite familiar with how I like it, it was nothing close to how it felt with Joey last night.
Just thinking about night last night has me hard as a door knob.
I pull back the sheet and look down at my cock, who is very much awake and proudly waving good morning.
God, I hope Joey finishes up soon and returns to bed.
Hoping to incentivize her, I get out of bed and walk into the living room, where I find her sitting on the couch with her head cradled in her hands, the phone dangling from her fingertips.
“Hey,” I say, my voice a little too loud for the stillness in the room, inadvertently startling her.
Her head jerks up and her eyes flash with alarm. But then her face transforms with a smirk as her gaze takes a tour down my torso and between my legs. Her blush is beautiful and sensual, her eyes alight with mischief.
And the weight of her stare on my crotch has my boy preening and flaunting himself.
“Well good morning, handsome,” she purrs.
She places the phone down on the coffee table as I stalk toward her until I’m standing at her side.
“You know there has to be some joke lingering around in this scenario, right?”
I waggle my eyebrows, taking my dick in hand. “If you say it’s something about eating sausage for breakfast, I’d argue it’s no joke.”
She leans her head and shoulders back against the couch as I bend my body over her, placing my lips on hers. My fingers trace the edge of the t-shirt that’s ridden up past her belly, and I slide underneath to cup her soft, warm breast.
I didn’t spend nearly enough time on her breasts last night. They are absolutely perfect – a handful or more. But in the dark of night, I wasn’t able to examine them as closely as I’d wanted.
I feel it’s my duty as her lover to know exactly what they look like, in the event I’m ever asked to identify them in a line-up.
What? It could happen.
I lift the t-shirt with one hand up to her collarbone, my other hand planted on the couch next to her head. I sigh and then scowl.
“This is exactly what I was afraid of…”
She lifts her brows in question. “What?”
“Your nipples,” I begin before I take a swipe at the rosy colored bud, lathering it with my tongue. “It’s a good thing I’m here. They are needy little things. What on earth did you ever do before me?”
She laughs, and her breasts jiggle with humor. I cup her breast and bring it to my mouth again, sucking, licking, nipping.
She moans. “I don’t know…but you can keep doing that…so good.”
I stop for a moment and just take in the sight of her. The soft curls of her hair – wild and in disarray from the night we had – are spread out against the cushion. What little make-up she wore last night has disappeared from sleep and she’s bare of any lipstick. Her creamy, freckled skin glistens in the morning light and tastes of honey and cream.
She’s flushed and panting, and I extract a sense of joy in watching her stomach contract as I stroke gently down the valley of her breasts, past her navel and then into her panties.
“I’m feeling very hungry this morning,” I murmur, sitting on my knees at the base of the couch and breathing her in at the juncture of her legs. “I think I may need to eat you.”
I literally salivate from her scent - a light mixture of musk and sex - which makes my dick twitch and balls tighten with a yearning so Neanderthal that I might just flip her over and have my way with her.
Hmm…not a bad idea. That’s one way to prove my alpha-male qualities.
I sink my teeth into her panties and nip at her center. She nearly jumps off the couch with a yelp. Woody comes storming into the room and whimpers with concern over what I’m doing to his friend.
She’s breathless. “It’s okay, Woods. Go lay down.”
I spread her legs further and it reminds me how we got the night started last night. The first orgasm I gave her that sent her skyrocketing into the heavens.
Fuck, being able to make this woman climax like that made me feel like a king. I was on top of the fucking world after doing it another two times.
Maybe I’ll submit my achievement into the Guinness World Record books. I think guys around the world would be proud. Because I nailed it.
Speaking of which, I’ve decided I’m going to nail Joey at least twice more before we leave for rehearsals today.
That’s when the worry starts to eat at me again.
As a director, I need to keep things professional. Otherwise, lines are too easily crossed. If I were just an actor, playing a part opposite of Joey, it may not be as big of a deal.
But the director is required to give constructive criticism that is harder to accept when you’re fucking the one giving it.
That’s exactly why I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Joey sexually. We should’ve remained within the friend-zone and kept it professional until after the production.
But fuck me, I couldn’t wait.
The sexual energy between us was too much. Everywhere I looked – everywhere I went – there she was – like oxygen to my body. Keeping me going. Giving me breath. Making me feel alive and happy.
My nose is buried between her legs as she writhes and squirms, and I smile at the power and control she’s given me. I feel invincible with Joey. And I use that power to my advantage.
“Do you think Chester would have gone down on Silvia?”
She pops her head up off the couch and stares down at me like I’ve grown two heads.
“Uh, might I remind you where your face is right now? Should I be pissed that you’re thinking about your characters and not focused on my pleasure?”
She slaps a hand on top of my head and pushes me down so I’m nestled snugly in her warmth. I chuckle.
I inhale her intoxicating scent. And then I’m not laughing.
My dick throbs hard, pushing up into the couch, hoping to get in on some action again soon. It’s been hours and he’s very greedy when it comes to sharing Joey’s feminine assets.
The last twelve hours have been indescribable.
But it can’t last like this. We are in the perfect love-making bubble right now – a world where nothing else exists outside of these walls. Outside of our nakedness and flushed skin. The warm, salty scent of sex that lingers in the air around us.
I hook my fingers u
nderneath her panties and pull them down, sliding them over her slight hips, past her cute by knobby knees, and then to her ankles. Lifting one foot, the panties fall off and I bring her leg over my shoulder, turning to kiss at the inside of her leg.
When I look up, she’s pinning me with a stare. The green of her eyes hazy with lust, like a pasture after a light summer rain.
She’s gorgeous like this.
“Whatchya thinking about up there, beautiful?”
Joey closes her eyes and tips her head to the side, shaking it slightly.
I trail my finger up the inside of her thigh, the silky texture reminding me of smooth stone in a riverbed.
I reach under her ass and tug her down, lifting myself up at the same time so I’m positioned over her, biting at her neck. Then I latch on to her earlobe and suck.
Her hips jut up so her warm wet center presses into my aching dick.
Her voice is a whisper. “I’m just wondering how I could have possibly thought…”
My cock twitches and slides through her folds, wanting so desperately to get inside. To feel her clenched around me.
She moans. And I ask, “You thought what?”
Joey lets out a small giggle. “I thought you were...”
Jerking my head back so I can look her in the eyes, I see she’s biting her lip in a guilty fashion.
“You thought I was what?”
I lift her up, cupping underneath her ass, and walk her into the bedroom, her arms reaching around my neck to keep from falling. When I reach the bed, I toss her down and grab a condom from the drawer.
She watches, silently, as I fumble with the packet, but then fit it over my dick. I stand poised over her, dropping my hands to either side of her head, my cock at her entrance. I nudge at her folds and she gasps.
“Tell me,” I command, sliding in just a bit, a deep sigh of relief coming out in the form of a growl.
Her hands land on my bare ass, squeezing me, as she smiles a slanty grin. “I thought you were Patrick’s boy toy when I first met you.”
And then I slam into her, showing her exactly whose boy toy I am. And it certainly isn’t Patrick’s.
Chapter Twenty-One
Joey
He’s definitely not gay
It was well after noon when Theo left his apartment and I came back to my place to shower and get ready for rehearsals. But as I showered, I replayed our conversation in my head.
The one where I confessed again why I thought he was gay.
“You seriously thought I was gay, huh?”
I think I may have hurt his feelings. Or deflated his fragile ego. I mean, I did at one point have to show him how to act like an alpha. It’s not entirely my fault.
“There were certain tells,” I admit guiltily, pulling my wrinkled shirt on over my head. I guess it was a case of mistaken identity. My heart felt you and wanted to believe you were a hetero man, but there were so many arrows pointing in the wrong direction. It’s not only your friendship with Patrick, but then you never made a move on me, so instead of believing you weren’t attracted to me because of me, I assumed it was because I was female.”
“Wow, that’s crazy. Who knew I made such a great gay guy?”
Theo stands in front of his closet and pulls from the dress shirts hanging there, slipping it on his body.
He buttons the final button and rubs his forehead like this is causing him an insurmountable headache.
Theo slips on his shorts and walks toward me, cupping my face in his hands and pulling me into him. It makes me feel so good. Secure. Wanted. Understood.
“I certainly hope I dispelled all those myths by the way I fucked you last night and this morning.” He quirks an eyebrow, full of cockiness and sexy attitude.
The heat rushes to my face and between my thighs.
But I go with a snarky response and shrug my shoulders.
“Still not exactly convinced you’re not bi.”
I give a little shout of glee as he picks me up and throws me on the bed, and I end up in a heap on top of the messy, well-used sheets.
With every step he takes toward me, he emphasizes his reply.
“I. Am. Not. Gay. Or Bi. Got it?”
And then he lands on top of me, swiftly lifting me and flipping me on top of him as he rolls on his back. He combs my loose curls out of my face and stares into my eyes.
“Well, maybe I need more convincing…”
His expression turns serious.
“Do you think other’s think I am? Birdie said something about it the other day. No one has ever commented on it before.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Theo, I just misunderstood. I misread all the signals that lead me to believe that about you. For one, you’re living here with Pat and have a history with him, and you were talking about your ex, Al…what was I supposed to think?”
He kisses me square on the mouth before lowering his head to the mattress below.
“Okay, let’s forget about all of that. But we need to talk about the rest of this week. The rehearsals. The crew. Marlon. You and me together.”
Pushing up on my elbows, I place one hand across his chest, the warmth a contradiction to the cold blast of seriousness from his tone. I knew we’d have to hold this conversation, but I still wasn’t ready for it.
“How do you want to play it?”
I was leaving it all up to him. He has to take the lead. It isn’t my call because it’s his profession. His real job and his career. I’m just along for the fun ride.
He smooths back an errant curl and sighs.
“No one can know about this” he points between us. “It’s going to be hard as hell to keep my eyes and hands off you, but if anyone knew what was happening, it could cause problems. It could damage my credibility that I’m trying to build as a director and playwright. I hope…”
I interrupt him with my finger to his lips.
“Theo, I totally get it. I got you. I’ll keep my hands and mouth and eyes to myself unless we’re in a scene or we’re behind closed doors. But then all bets are off.”
I smirk as I allow my hand to trail down to the front of his pants, where I feel the bulge begin to bloom. My inner diva shakes her hips in delight.
“God you’re perfect,” he admires, giving me a quick kiss. “But I need to get going and so do you. So that will have to wait until tonight.”
I give him my best pouty face but roll off him and then stand from the bed, righting my clothes. He stands too, and I lean up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him in tighter.
“Thank you,” I murmur into the kiss, tasting the coffee and lingering musky scent of me on his lips. “For giving me this chance. For having faith in me and entrusting me to represent your character. This is the most thrilling thing I’ve done since college. Maybe even before that. And it’s all because of you.”
He steps into me. “Joey, you’re the one doing me the honors. I’ll see ya later, okay, babe?”
He kisses me hard, open-mouthed until I’m dizzy and can’t see straight.
And then he rushes out the door to head to the theater where he has a meeting with Birdie before everyone arrives.
The warm jets of water begin to turn chilly as I finish rinsing my hair under the shower head. I run my hands down the back of my head, playing the night on rewind as my fingers seem to have a mind of their own. I glide them down my neck, touching the spot where he sucked a mark that’s now faint but still visible. A rush of heat sparks between my legs, and my nipples pucker up.
I’ve always enjoyed sex, but I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl. So my sexual experiences aren’t very well rounded and are few and far between. There was Brendon my freshman year in college, but that was forgettable.
Etienne my senior year. He was a French student studying abroad and was pretty good with his mouth, but he smoked like a chimney and I choked every time I smelled the stale cigarette scent on his clothes and skin.
&
nbsp; And my last partner was Jordan. He liked to stick his finger in places I wasn’t sure I wanted them and requested a quid pro quo of the same type. No way was I going to tickle his taint. I’m way too squeamish for that sort of lover’s game.
Jordan quickly tired of my inability to perform the way he wanted me too and it ended after three fucks. They were good, but nothing compared to the fun I had in the sack with Theo.
He is just downright amazing. There were times it felt like he read my mind and knew instinctively what I wanted. And then other times, he’d ask me. It was thrilling to have someone interested in my desire and physical responses.
But then there was the time when he commanded…no demanded…that I come. It was heady and powerful. And oh, so alpha.
So unlike the first time I met him.
Just the sight of him – when he walks into the room – is enough to get me hot and bothered and quivering with desire.
I turn off the water and towel off. And then it dawns on me.
How the hell am I going to hide these feelings from everyone in the production?
It’s going to be all over my face the minute I walk in there. I mean, I’m an acting novice. Sure, I can read from the script and take my acting cues from him, but to mask my emotions on my own? Act as though he means nothing more to me than just a friend? Pretend I haven’t seen him naked and know what he can do with his very large kick stand?
That’s going to be a complication.
And I’m going to have to work very hard to avoid slipping up in front of people.
Or just avoid tripping over my feet around Theo when I try not to imagine him naked.
We spoke about keeping our relationship under wraps because it could really cause problems for him long term. And there’s no way I want to do anything that would get in the way of Theo fulfilling his dreams.
He means too much to me already to be an obstacle to his success.
Plus, I still need to worry about making a fool of myself in front of an audience.
For some reason, Theo has faith in me and doesn’t seem at all worried that I could fuck up everything in his production.