She came three times in their first interaction: first when he finger-banged her, “getting her ready.” (Seriously? Who outside of romance novels did that?) Then missionary. Then when he turned her over, grabbing her braid like the reins of a horse and tugging as he plowed into her, until he had her coming so hard she was practically sobbing. Oh my God, the guy had moves.
She’d been ready to thank him and head home right then, but he said he wasn’t done. He’d ordered up room service, and she’d gotten a wonderful vegetarian meal, and even had a pleasant conversation with him. Which was in and of itself a rarity, although it made her uncomfortable. She wasn’t there to date; she was there to fuck. Thankfully, as soon as he’d refueled, he had her on the dresser.
Her pussy felt bruised, but in the best possible way. She shivered as she pulled her panties on. Her skin tingled. This would be one she remembered. In fact, this was one that other guys would fall woefully short of, which made her sad.
To her surprise, he rolled over with a soft grunt, then hooked his arm around her waist, tugging her back to the bed with a startled squeak. She giggled as he wrestled her gently to the bed, burying his face in her chest. “Mmmm. Man, I love these tits,” he said, kissing one, then the other—then giving her a quick motorboat. She snickered at the sheer goofiness of it.
“You cannot be serious,” she said around a chuckle. “What the hell did you eat for breakfast today? Viagra flakes?”
“With tits like these in front of me, I don’t need ’em,” he answered, tugging off her panties and tossing them back on her pile of clothing. She was about to protest, but he took her mouth roughly, weaving his fingers in her wavy hair. He pressed her into the mattress, and she felt the thick rod of flesh against her stomach.
She should say no. She should’ve been home hours ago. That said—it was there, all deliciously solid and insistent. It would be such a waste to just leave it. Like throwing away perfectly good food.
There are poor, horny, crazy cat women who would just love this, and you’re going to refuse it?
She kissed back, hard, gripping his broad shoulders, reveling in the feel of his fingers digging into her ass as he suckled hard while nudging at her opening. She moaned, angling her hips…
“Whoa. Condom…” she muttered, quickly yanking away.
“Already on.”
She reached down, ensuring it. Not that she didn’t trust him, but… well, no. She didn’t trust him, or any man she hooked up with. Wasn’t worth it.
As long as she had him in hand, she stroked, then squeezed until he was groaning against her skin, biting her shoulder. He pulled her hips up off the mattress, and they both let out animal growls of pleasure as he pressed his not-inconsiderable length all the way in, until his hips met flush with her widened thighs. “So… good…” she breathed.
He nipped at her breasts, pulling one nipple in his mouth as he kept pressing up. Her ankles hooked around his legs. The guy had amazing muscle tone, and stamina for frickin’ days, she thought, before he hit her G-spot, and all thought fled. She was gasping, writhing with all the force she could muster.
She came first, on a low shriek. He shook slightly in response, but clenched his jaw. Then he slowly let her slide down, withdrawing.
She was out of breath, still quivering from her orgasm. But he hadn’t come, or at least, she didn’t think he had. “Didn’t you…”
Before she could finish the question, he turned her over, piercing her from behind, holding onto her hips, kneading them as he slowly, deeply penetrated her. He was grunting, sexy animalistic sounds that, impossibly, revved her engine back to life. She didn’t think she could come again so soon, but she felt so hot as his rhythm went uneven, his grip got tighter, his thrusts harder until she was pressing back, her palms flat on the headboard.
“Christ!” He shuddered, and she could feel his cock tickling inside her as it jerked and spasmed. They stayed there for a minute, the only sound the quiet hum of the hotel heater. Then he pulled out, cleaning himself off.
When she finally got herself together, she rolled over, retrieving the panties he’d discarded.
Late. She was soooo late. She really had to move it.
“What’s your rush?” he said, sneaking up behind her and nibbling her skin, toying with her nipples before she pulled her bra on. She stepped away and tugged her dress over her head.
“Fun’s fun,” she murmured. “But I have to get home. How are you not exhausted?”
“I’m not quite ready to go again, but I don’t want you to leave,” he said against her skin, making her shiver a little. “Stay. Sleep here with me.”
“Tempting, but no.” She nudged him, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting on her shoes. He was getting a little clingy. Yeah, the sex was amazing, but good grief. Really?
“Come on,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.
“I never thought I’d say this,” she said, with a rueful chuckle, “but I am all sexed out. I am going to need to get some Vitamin E shots before I get back in bed with you…”
Chad? Chet? Shit. She still couldn’t remember his name.
“Stay,” he repeated, stroking her neck, kissing behind her ear. “We could just cuddle.”
What the fuck?
“What? I like cuddling,” he said, noticing the look on her face. He tugged at her waist, stroking her breasts, her hips. Kissing her softly.
She looked over at him. His eyes were low-lidded, sleepy, not surprising considering their exercises and the time. But there was something else there. Fondness? Affection?
More than that? God, how would that be possible? She’d known the guy for, what, a few hours?
That made her skin shiver in a more unpleasant way. She moved a little, putting some inches of space between them. “I can’t. I have to go home.”
“You live with your parents?” He said it like it was a foregone conclusion.
What exactly did he think was going on here? She frowned.
“No.” She stood up, getting her purse. “My husband.”
She saw that little bombshell register.
“It’s been great. Thanks for everything. And I do mean everything… Cuddlebug,” she said, smiling.
She left him sitting there, staring at her in shock.
She was still grinning when she pulled into her driveway, twenty minutes later. She crept into her house. She was pretty sure Druv had a deal closing in the morning, so he’d probably been asleep for hours. Still…
“You didn’t text.”
She froze, hearing the censure in his voice. Druv came out of the kitchen, snacking on leftover dosas. “Sorry, babe. I meant to.”
“I was starting to really worry,” he said. “I thought you’d been kidnapped or murdered!”
“I just had to blow off some steam,” she said, knowing it was a poor excuse. “I didn’t mean to be out this late.”
“So where were you?”
She put down her purse and kicked off her shoes. Took a deep breath. “The Edgewater Hotel.”
His eyes widened, and he let out a low whistle. “The swanky one?”
“Yup. And you would not believe the guy I fucked. He was like a sexual triathlete. That’s why I didn’t call.”
He grinned. “How many orgasms?”
“I lost count..”
“Well, shit. I suppose you’re excused for not texting,” he said. “C’mon. Have a snack, tell me all about it.”
She laughed, hugging him. “Then he wanted me to stay and cuddle. Can you believe it?”
“Ugh, one of those,” Druv said, rolling his eyes. “A clinger. You’ll want to steer clear of that.”
“Probably,” she said. “But the sex was so good. Mind-blowing good.”
“Yes, but is it worth the drama?”
She pouted. Did she really want a Cuddlebug in her life? No. But the sex. Holy mice, the sex was the sort of thing people wrote songs about.
“You’re right,” she admitted, giving Druv a hal
f hug and walking up the stairs. “It’d probably be really stupid to see him again.”
Probably.
Geek, Actually
Season 1, Episode 2
The Invisible Woman
Rachel Stuhler
#REBELSCUM
Michelle: Aditi. Hey there. Glad to catch you online.
Aditi: Because I should be writing, I know, I know. I am, just taking a break.
Michelle: I didn’t say that. Only wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.
Christina: Because you’re so easy-breezy, sis?
Taneesha: Busted, Miche.
Michelle: I don’t think it’s unreasonable to check up on my friend and author to see if she needs any help.
Aditi: I’ve already turned in a post to Pam for the day and I’ve got some time till she says the others are due.
Christina: It’s nice that you put “friend” before “author,” but let’s be real—you totally have your editor hat on right now.
Michelle: I’m offering to pitch in. I’d say that’s friend and editor hats on at the same time.
Aditi: I’m fine, guys. Michelle’s just doing her job and I’m doing mine. But I can only stay on a few more minutes. Can we talk about something else, please? The rest of you must have things going on in your lives.
Christina: Neesha, how did things go with the brogrammers?
Taneesha: Well, it seems like I’m keeping my job for now.
Elli: Huzzah!
Christina: You seem thrilled.
Michelle: I thought you were pretty confident you wouldn’t be laid off?
Taneesha: Mostly. You never know for sure. But now instead of a senior programmer, I’ve been given a meaningless title on a project I used to be spearheading.
Michelle: And the title is?
Taneesha: Swarm master. They say I’m a spot-fixer, handling any problems that arise, except none of the new people have any issues or seem to want to work with me.
Elli: I’m sure it’s because they don’t know you yet.
Michelle: Elli has a point. Make them see how valuable you are. Once they see your work, they can’t continue to ignore your contribution to the company.
Christina: Well, why didn’t Taneesha think of that!
Taneesha: I can barely get anyone to stop in the hall and talk to me for thirty seconds. When I asked for a meeting, it was like I’d morphed into Gul’dan.
Aditi: Are any of your old bosses around? Anyone you can trust?
Taneesha: Everyone I trusted ran to other start-ups or opened their own shops.
Aditi: Stay in contact, see if they’re hiring. They loved you at the old company, didn’t they? Or at least recognized your talent. Get the hell out of that place.
Taneesha: They might be hiring… in a year or two. Start-ups need front-end devs and marketing right away. Most of the people who left are front-end guys. I don’t know if I’d have a spot.
Christina: Well, fuck. Drink at work and ride it out, I guess.
Michelle: Just because it doesn’t get you fired, C, doesn’t mean it’ll work for anyone else.
Christina: All I’m saying is maybe if she gets shitfaced at work, they’ll get annoyed enough to buy her out.
Michelle: I doubt that’s the way it would happen.
Elli: It’s all new, Neesha. I’m sure you just need a few weeks for things to shake out and everything will be right as rain. :)
Christina: And maybe if she’s pure of heart, butterflies will dress her in princess robes every morning. FFS.
Aditi: I love you, Christina, but don’t be a dick.
Elli: It’s okay, I know she’s joking.
Christina: Yes, joking…
Taneesha: How are things with you, El? Liking the barista world?
Elli: Oh, gosh. I quit that job.
Taneesha: Huh.
Christina: I’m not saying anything.
Michelle: And why did you quit this one?
Elli: I have enough to pay for the next con.
Michelle: And what about the one after that?
Elli: I can’t worry that far ahead. I’m so focused on this dress, I can’t even think about what my next cosplay might be.
Michelle: But Elli… Hon…
Aditi: Let it go, Miche.
Taneesha: Seconded.
Michelle: You’re right. I’ve got to jump off in a second, anyway.
Aditi: Me, too.
Elli: Oh, shoot! I wanted to show you some of my fabric swatches!
Taneesha: Another time? I see people heading into another meeting I wasn’t invited to. Need to spy.
Michelle: Before we go, just one more piece of news. Ted decided to move out. NBD, he hired movers and took care of everything himself, but I thought I should let you know.
Taneesha: Wait, WHAT?!?
Christina: Are you okay? Do you need me to fly out there?
Aditi: We could all be there in a day, sweetie.
Taneesha: Absolutely. I’m not sure anyone in the office would even notice I’m gone.
Michelle: I’m 100% fine, you guys. But also swamped. We’ll talk soon. AFK.
Taneesha: Well, that was unexpected.
Christina: Sad, yes. But would we really say unexpected?
CHRISTINA
Christina pulled into the gas station at 5:25 a.m., yawning. As she entered the small shop, the clerk eyed her warily. I’m just on my way to work, man, she thought. To be fair to the clerk, he was better dressed than she was. Christina’s jeans weren’t visibly dirty, exactly, but they were her set clothes, and had long been subjected to the elements and all manner of heavy and sharp things clipped to them. She was pretty sure she’d washed them last week, but days of the week didn’t exist in her world. It was shoot day X of however many, with an episode number tacked on the end. That’s how she kept time. There were some off days in there, but fewer than she would’ve liked.
Of course, she also hadn’t showered—she’d been out late last night, partying with some friends, and had just tumbled into bed. So her short, dark-brown hair was probably sticking out in all directions. And she rarely bothered with makeup, so the ravages of last night probably made her look like a zombie.
Ah, well. If she didn’t give a fuck what her tight-assed family thought, she wasn’t going to squirm under the judgment of a gas station clerk.
She wandered around the back of the store, perusing the refrigerator cases. Something drew her to the chocolate milk today, but that didn’t have caffeine. And there’d be plenty of free chocolate at crafty (craft services) later.
“Can I help you find anything?” the clerk asked. He sounded nervous.
Christina stared at her reflection in the cold case doors, amused. Did she look that threatening? Her hair was messy but mostly clean, her jeans and tank rumpled but not cheap. Maybe he didn’t like Asians, or maybe he preferred his women more femme? Either way, it wasn’t her problem.
“Nope,” she replied, her eyes alighting on the Red Bull. “Just trying to decide what will keep me awake.”
“We have Five-Hour Energy on the endcap,” the man suggested.
Christina grabbed two cans of Red Bull and looked around for the endcap. “Sold.”
It was still dark as she headed back to her car. The sun wouldn’t be up for another twenty minutes, but that wasn’t unusual for her. She preferred it this way—the early and late hours she drove around Los Angeles meant less traffic. She could push ninety on the freeway and if anyone did notice, it was too dark for her to see any middle fingers flung in her direction.
Today was a studio day for Youngbloods, which meant air conditioning and toilets that actually flushed, both things a luxury for a show that was shot primarily as a desert exterior. After two years, Christina knew better than most that sand found its way into every crevice of your body. But overall, she liked working outside—and didn’t mind getting dirty, which was more than she could say for some of the prima donnas she worked with.
Christina turned in
to the studio a few minutes before six, waving at the security guard. The crew lot was already full, so she made her own space, squeezing in between a Range Rover and a dumpster. It was kind of a dick move, but you do what you have to. Plus, when the jag-off in the Rover tried to sneak out at four—like those assholes always did—he or she’d be red-faced and cursing. Christina’s only regret was that she wouldn’t be there to see it.
By the time she made it to the catering truck, the line was long, and the smell of eggs and bacon made her impatient stomach rumble even more. Most of the people in front of her were actors, and God forbid you asked one of them if you could cut in front. Never mind that they had next to nothing to do for the first few hours of the day. Especially the men, for whom most of the time in the makeup chair consisted of one of the glam girls slathering them with sunscreen and then sending them away.
Christina was just two people from ordering when the second assistant director, Josh, walked up and dropped a walkie-talkie in her hand.
“We’ve been in for four minutes,” Josh told her.
Christina took the walkie and pulled her earpiece from her pocket, threading it into her right ear. She didn’t respond right away. She knew what Josh was saying—what he always said—but she didn’t care. Various snippets of conversation immediately went live in her ear. “Do you have any sides on you?” she asked Josh, ignoring the new voices in her head.
Sides were miniature copies of the days’ shooting pages with a call sheet on top. The page count gave a pretty good indication how long the day would be, but Christina wasn’t particularly worried about this. It was still mid-week, which meant they couldn’t work too late or the following day’s call time would be delayed. It was Thursday and Friday you really had to worry about. Fifteen- or sixteen-hour Fridays were so common, they had a name—Fraturdays, because they bled into your Saturday.
“Sides are at video village, just like they are every day,” Josh replied, annoyance making his voice even sharper. “And now we’ve been in for five minutes. Courtesy breakfast for crew ends at call. That means you’ve already eaten and gotten your first assignment.”
In her peripheral vision, Christina saw the person in front of her step over to the pickup window. Without answering Josh, she turned to the caterer and stepped forward. “Morning, Javi. Can I get a breakfast sandwich with bacon? Lots of bacon. A little too much tequila last night. You understand.”
Geek Actually Season 1 Omnibus Page 5