Come Undone: Romance Stories Inspired by the Music of Duran Duran

by Kim Carmichael

  A few minutes later they arrived at the callback. John stayed in the waiting area while the receptionist escorted Sophie through another door. Milling around in the inner office were the casting director, the big name actor already selected for the male lead, and two other actresses about the same age as Sophie. Reading for the same role, she surmised. According to the latest buzz, the actor had already read with several other actresses, none of which clicked. If sexual chemistry was what they were looking for, Sophie would be a shoo-in.

  “You look familiar,” Brad, the leading man, said. “Do I know you?”

  Her guard shot up. “I don’t think so.” If she’d never seen him in her life until now, she could only conclude he’d seen one of her Pep Squad films. Her stomach churned.

  “I’m positive we’ve either worked together or were at the same party.” He narrowed his eyes and studied her. “You’re sure we’ve never met before?”

  “Positive. I’m sure I’d remember if we had.”

  Great. I wonder when someone’s going to ask me to take off my clothes. Although she’d deliberately worn a cardigan to cover her breasts, it wasn’t long before the actor’s gaze drifted to her best assets.

  “Brad. Sophie. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  She followed Michael, the casting director, and Brad into a small room where a cameraman was waiting. She was handed her an open script. “This is a scene between our hero and his mistress.”

  While Michael gave directions to the cameraman, Sophie scanned the scene that called for her to beg her lover to leave his wife and stay with her.

  “Please state your names. First you, Sophie, then you, Brad,” Mike said. “Rolling.”

  After taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she stared into the camera. “Sophie Greene.” She turned to her left, paused, and then turned right.

  Brad Simon followed suit.

  The scene began and Sophie slipped into character. She thought of Greg and how she would feel if he were married. Her voice shook with emotion at the possibility of losing the man she loved as she begged him to stay.

  “Cut. Excellent. Sophie, now do the same scene…only angry this time.”

  She closed her eyes and, in her mind, conjured up the image of Greg. How dare he tell her how to live her life? What career path she should take?

  “Ready? Please state your names. Sophie, then Brad.”

  This time Sophie pulled out all the stops. Digging deep, she recalled her hurt and anger from her last conversation with Greg. With tear-filled eyes, she fisted her hands. Her voice shook with emotion as she demanded that he leave his wife for her.

  After the reading, she received a round of congratulations from Brad, Mike, and the man behind the camera. High from the experience, she struggled to keep her excitement in check, at least until she was offered a contract.

  The second she entered the outer office, she spotted John and grinned.

  His eyes lit up and he jumped to his feet. “Let’s get out of here.” He motioned for her to hurry. As soon as they stepped into the hallway, he lowered his voice so only she could hear. “We don’t want to jinx your chances by acting too enthusiastic in this place, do we?”

  Wiping away tears of joy, she said, “I can’t believe how well it went. Oh, my God, John, everything clicked.”

  “I knew you could do it, Sophie.”

  On her way to his car, she gave him details about the reading.

  “Sounds like you’ve got a good shot at the part, but keep in mind, the studio may want to go with a big name. And if that happens, which is a distinct possibility, I’ll bet money that they’ll cast you in another role. You wouldn’t have been called back if they weren’t interested.”

  She wished she were that confident. “Do you think so?”

  “I can almost guarantee it.” He sidestepped to allow a black sedan to speed in front of them. “Looks like someone’s in a hurry.” He aimed his key at his gray Range Rover. After two chirps, the door locks disengaged. When he and Sophie rounded the vehicle to the passenger side, they saw it.

  “What the hell?” He stared at the passenger side. Someone had keyed his car, leaving a deep gouge along the length of the vehicle.

  “Did someone sideswipe you?”

  “Sideswipe, my ass. I deliberately parked between two pillars so no one could park next to me.” John ran his fingertips along the damage and cursed.

  “Shouldn’t we call the police?” she asked.

  “They won’t do anything.”

  “Maybe there’s a surveillance camera. Do you want me to call Greg? He works for an insurance company. He’ll know what to do.”

  “Good idea, Sophie. Why don’t you give him a call?”

  Prominently displayed above John’s Range Rover was a building security sign, its phone number printed in large red letters below the company name. John dialed the number on his cell. While he spoke with the office, he paced up and down the aisle where his car was parked.

  Sophie was torn, part of her dreaded calling Greg. She’d just left an awesome audition and didn’t relish the idea of being around someone who thought acting was foolishness—a waste of time. On the other hand, she longed to see him, to hear the sound of his voice. Calling Greg for advice was a good excuse to talk to him. The last time they were together didn’t end well. She knew they’d be better off without each other, but how do you quit a man you miss whenever you’re apart and ache for his touch, his scent.

  In the process of arguing with herself over what to do about Greg, she had dialed his number. He answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, Greg, it’s me.” Surprisingly, he didn’t hang up on her. When she told him what happened to her agent’s car, he was eager to help. Even though he couldn’t do much—John’s car wasn’t insured by his company—any advice from a professional was always welcome.

  “I’ll be right over to take a look at his car.” His eagerness to help caused her to grin.

  “I’d…er…he’d like that. Thank you.”

  John returned from making his phone call. “I just found out that the security office records everything that goes on in the garage. I’m going to go talk to them. By the way, did you get a hold of your boyfriend?”

  Even though Greg wasn’t exactly her boyfriend, she let the comment slide. “He’s on his way over.”

  “In that case, I’ll stick around until he gets here.”

  Ten minutes later, a familiar midnight blue Lexus drove into the parking structure.

  He’s here. Her heart galloped inside her ribcage like a racehorse. Despite all their disagreements, the man never failed to take her breath away. “It’s Greg,” she said.

  The Lexus pulled up next to them. Greg stepped out of his car, stretching to his full six feet three inches. Having just left his office, he cast an impressive sight in a white dress shirt and red striped tie. Not to mention the gray slacks that hugged his butt. The whole package sent a shiver down her spine.

  The men shook hands.

  After John pointed out the scratch, Greg blew out a whistle. “Whoever’s responsible got you good.” Crouched next to the car, he ran his fingers over the damage. “If you want my opinion, it sure looks like vandalism to me.”

  If she thought he looked impressive before, Greg crouching was a sight to behold. His was a body that she knew so well—broad, muscular shoulders narrowing to a tight butt. Heat flowed through her veins and pooled in her sex. The weeks they were apart seemed like an eternity. Her body hummed with desire.

  No doubt unaware of the effect he had on her, he stood, stretched, and scanned the area. “Did either of you notice if any other cars in here were keyed?”

  All I notice is you, baby.

  “None that I could see,” John answered. “You notice anything, Sophie?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “John, you need to call your insurance company and put in a claim. Because it’s vandalism, you should also file a police report.”

  “I’m head
ing to the security office to start the process right now. I was told they had security cameras. It might take a while. Would you mind giving Sophie a ride home? I drove her here because she had a flat tire.” His glance traveled from Greg to Sophie.

  A ride home from Greg? Bingo! Just what she needed. A chance to re-connect. When had John become psychic? Even though her pulse raced, she tried acting nonchalant.

  “Go take care of your car. I’ll see that Sophie gets home.” Greg locked gazes with her. As if reading her impure thoughts, his eyes darkened.

  She drew in a ragged breath as he moved closer. Resting his hand on her lower back, her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Her body felt like it was on fire. Was he turned on too?

  Greg was her weakness, her drug. She couldn’t resist him. So why bother trying to kick the habit? They were so good together. Things would be so much simpler if he wasn’t so dead set against her acting career.

  “Great.” John shook Greg’s hand again. “Thanks for helping out. And Sophie, I’ll call you when I hear something.”

  After John left, Greg asked, “What was that all about? Hear something about what?”

  She winced. “An audition.”

  His body stiffened. “Oh.”

  “Greg, please.” Her voice quavered. “Please be happy for me.”

  Chapter Four

  GREG PARKED IN A space next to Sophie’s Camry. As soon as he helped her out of the car, he checked the flat tire.

  A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. “It looks like someone might have slashed your tire, Sophie.”

  Her eyes went wide. “It can’t be. Are you sure?”

  “It certainly looks like it.” Not wanting to alarm Sophie further, he chose not to voice his opinion that he found it odd that both her car and John’s were vandalized within twenty-four hours. He would keep an eye on her in case both instances were related.

  He rolled up his sleeves and replaced her flat with the spare in her trunk. When he finished, he placed the ruined tire in the trunk.

  Sophie handed him a towel. “Just toss it in the trunk when you’re finished.”

  “Thanks.” He wiped the grease and dirt from his hands.

  “Thank you for helping me out, Greg. You didn’t have to, you know.”

  He tossed the soiled towel in the trunk and closed it. “Yes, I did,” he answered, knowing there was no way he could walk away when she needed him. Right now, he missed being with her. It had been weeks since they’d last made love and he was eager to hold her in his arms. He missed kissing her, missed the warmth of her body when he was buried deep inside her. He missed everything about her.

  She touched his arm, stirring a longing he was powerless to deny. He brushed her lips with his. To his surprise, she didn’t back away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened their kiss.

  A motorcycle thundered by, reminding them they were standing in a carport. “We’d better stop before we do something that might get us arrested.”

  “Good idea.” She peppered tiny kisses long his jaw and down his neck, making him shiver, driving him crazy.

  In the distance, children chattered, and he quickly backed away from her.

  “Would you like to come upstairs so we can have some wine and talk?”

  “Sounds like an excellent plan.”

  He took her hand in his and climbed the flight of stairs to her condo.

  Sophie fumbled with her keys, nearly dropping them twice before unlocking the door. He followed her inside.

  Without a word, Sophie kicked off her heels and padded into the living room.

  In the kitchen, Greg loosened his tie and pulled a bottle of Chardonnay from the fridge. He uncorked the chilled bottle and poured two glasses. He carried them into the living room where Sophie lounged on the sofa, checking her cell for messages.

  Shit. “You expecting a call?”

  “I’m hoping...but don’t expect one.”

  He suspected she was waiting for word that she’d gotten the role she’d read for before he met up with her. Ignoring the churning in his gut over that possibility, he set the glasses on the glass-top coffee table and kissed her cheek. He sat next to her, close enough for their hips and shoulders to touch. Breathing in her familiar musky fragrance, his arousal sprung to attention. Heat radiated from her body, consuming him.

  Reaching for her glass, she raised it in a toast. “To a bright future.”

  Ouch. He’d hoped for something more personal, more intimate. Lifting his glass, he added, “May we find success and happiness.”

  “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come to my rescue and changed my tire.”

  He chuckled. “I’m a regular knight in shining armor, huh?”

  “Something like that. Tell me, Sir Galahad, do you make a habit of saving damsels in distress?”

  Unsure of how to respond, he grinned. “I’d like to think so, especially beautiful damsels.”

  Her cheeks reddened and she lifted the wineglass to her lips.

  While sipping wine, their discussion moved from his job to the weather to the Dodgers. Any subject, except the one weighing heavy on their hearts—her film career.

  When they met, she’d confessed to being an adult film actress. He checked out a few of her videos and found out she’d been straight with him from day one. He hated her movies because every time he saw her on film with another man or woman—giving and receiving pleasure—he wanted to punch something. A fist-size hole in his living room wall nearly got him evicted. No matter how many times she’d told him the sex in her films wasn’t real, that it just looked like it was, it didn’t matter. Real or not, seeing her with anyone else still hurt like hell.

  They drained their glasses. “Would you like a refill?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Why not.”

  He strode into the kitchen and retrieved the bottle of wine. Music drifted from the living room, soft music. His pulse quickened and a smile curled his lips. Carrying the bottle of Chardonnay, he returned to the living room. Sophie stood in front of the sofa, facing him.

  She held out her hand. “Dance with me.”

  He set the bottle on the coffee table, pulled her into an embrace, and they swayed to the music. He closed his eyes and pressed his growing arousal against her, allowing the music to carry him away to the first time they made love. Their second anniversary was coming up. Since Sophie, he hadn’t touched another woman. Didn’t have to. Didn’t want to. Sophie was all he wanted, or needed.

  “Greg?”

  “Hmmm,” he murmured, his face buried in her hair. When he inhaled her scent, he was home. “This is nice, isn’t it?”

  “The best.” Her voice—husky, barely audible—only added fuel to his passion. Her gray eyes, dark with desire, nearly brought him to his knees. A low, rumbling sound came from deep inside his chest. Her lips parted slightly. He bracketed her face with his hands and plundered her mouth, taking what she offered.

  He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on her lips, hard, thrusting his tongue into her warm, welcoming mouth. She sucked on his tongue and he returned the favor. She set his body on fire, raising beads of sweat on his forehead.

  Reaching down, he cupped her butt and drew her closer. She slipped her hand between his legs and stroked his length, driving his desire to near completion. He needed to be inside her.

  When she wriggled against him, trying to get closer, he nearly lost his mind. He lifted her high enough so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

  He carried her into the bedroom and lowered her slowly against him, rubbing his erection between her legs.

  As soon as her feet touched the floor, she slipped out of her sweater and lifted her arms, making it easier for him to pull her short dress over her head. He unclasped her bra and let it fall onto the thick, gray carpeting. “Perfect,” he whispered.

  Kneeling in front of her, he pulled down her panties and she stepped out of them. He caressed her ass while he kissed her navel, her stomach
. He moved lower and brushed his lips along every inch of her.

  “Yes, baby,” she whispered in a husky voice that caused his erection to push hard against his zipper. He needed to get out of his Dockers and inside her fast.

  “The blinds, Greg.” Her voice trembled. “Close them all the way.”

  He peeked around her naked body and noticed the blinds were slightly open. Had they put on their own X-rated performance for the neighborhood? He closed the blinds—shutting them off from the world—and shed his own clothing. Before he draped his pants over the back of a chair, he retrieved a condom from his wallet.

  Sophie was already in bed, covers drawn back, her arms open in welcome. He hadn’t realized how homesick he was for her. If he died tonight, he’d be a happy man.

  He accepted her invitation and joined her. Working his knee between her thighs, he encouraged her to spread her legs for him. The wetness of her sex brushed his thigh. She was ready for him. He tore open the condom package.

  “Let me,” she rasped.

  Eagerly, he handed it over. This time, she pushed him onto his back and rolled the condom over this rock hard, thick length. Foreplay be damned, both were ready for the main event.

  She climbed on top and lowered herself onto him, completely. Going slow, taking her time, driving him nuts—all the while showing him a powerful, in-charge grin. She moved up and down, tightening around him working her magic until he moaned.

  So nice. ”That’s it, baby. I love when you take control. You’re so damn sexy when you… Damn…Do it just like that.” She groaned, grinding her sex against him. She moved faster, and he pushed into her harder, building to a frenzied rhythm until she cried out his name. Her body tensed around him, drawing him deeper. Desire built in him. Seeking release, he drove into her harder until he peaked and finally came undone.

  She collapsed on him and he cradled her as if she was a precious gift. How could he be so lucky to have found her?

  He discarded his condom, and they lay naked—satisfied, slick limbs intertwined. Her breasts pressed against his chest and their hearts beat as one, in perfect sync. He rolled her onto her back, covered her body with his, and laced his fingers with hers as he held them over her head. He’d never seen her more radiant, glowing in the aftermath of lovemaking.