The water sloshed to the top of the tub as Cecily flipped her body around, reclining the length of her back against Rorie’s chest. Rorie's nipples tingled and hardened at the contact. She was fully awake now, no question about it. She folded her arms beneath the hollow of Cecily's breasts and wrapped her legs tightly around her hips to pull their bodies as close together as possible. Slowly, she traced her fingers along the curve of Cecily's breasts until she reached the rosy buds of her nipples that peeked above the sudsy water like two ripe cherries surrounded by whipped cream.
Cecily sucked in her breath with a satisfied hiss as Rorie's fingers pinched and gently twisted the sensitive pink flesh. “Oh, God.” Her hips wriggled in enthusiastic approval, causing Rorie to gasp at the ripples of pleasure that shot through her as Cecily's backside rubbed against her swollen sex. She spread her legs as wide as the edges of the tub would allow, intensifying the sensation, while kneading one of Cecily's plump breasts in each hand. The joint sounds of their pleasure echoed against the bathroom's marble tile.
Allowing one breast to sip from her grasp, Rorie traced the curves of Cecily's torso beneath the water with her right palm, enjoying the way her body was silky and slippery to the touch. She skimmed her fingers across Cecily's abdomen before seeking out the velvety space between her thighs that was somehow both hotter and wetter than the water surrounding it. As Rorie's fingers worked across that sensitive flesh in slow, long strokes, Cecily's breathing changed to shallow pants. She tilted her pelvis upward and threw her head back against Rorie's shoulder, crying out in ecstasy as Rorie's fingers plunged in deep, the movement of her body sending water sloshing over the sides of the tub. Rorie pulled her in tightly, devouring every inch of exposed skin along her neck and shoulders with an eager mouth until the sound of water cascading onto the tile floor finally broke them apart.
“Uh oh,” Cecily said, rooting around at the end of the tub with one foot until her toe caught hold of the plug for the drain. “A full bathtub might not be such a good idea, after all.” Rotating her body so that their stomachs were pressed together, she turned her full attention to Rorie’s lips as a gurgling sound emanated from the drain.
She shifted as the water receded, exposing Rorie’s breasts beneath wisps of clinging foam. Cecily dipped her head to pull one nipple into her mouth. Almost instantly she pulled her head back with a funny expression on her face. “You taste like bubble bath.” Her eyes swept sideways to the brass shower sprayer affixed above the faucet. “I know what to do about that.”
Cecily adjusted the device until it delivered a steady, pulsing spray of liquid warmth. Starting at the neck, she massaged away the suds from Rorie’s arms, chest, and back, caressing each region with her hands and lips as she went, until the water ran clean. “Much better. Now, tell me what you want me to do next.”
In the face of too many delicious options, Rorie's thoughts were reduced to a static buzz. “Surprise me.”
The slyness of Cecily's expression sent a shot of anticipation straight to Rorie’s groin.
Picking up the shower head again, Cecily settled herself along Rorie’s body and slid the device between them, aiming its relentless vibration directly between Rorie's legs. Rorie’s pulse quickened and she squirmed against the delightful agony of the assault while she explored Cecily’s mouth with her tongue. When she couldn't take a single second more, a deep moan rumbled from her chest and Cecily shut the stream of water off with a flick of her thumb, replacing it seconds later with the wet heat of her mouth and insistent pressure of her tongue until Rorie screamed aloud, her body writhing with its release.
She lay panting, stretched prone in the tub, still reeling from the aftereffects of Cecily’s exquisite torture. The back of her head rested in a pool of dampness that would wreak havoc on her hair in the morning, but she couldn’t have cared less. Cecily had succeeded in surprising her, that was for certain. For all her proper, ladylike exterior, Cecily had never been shy in bed, and sometimes she was downright bossy. Rorie considered it one of her most alluring qualities, the way her carefully built facade would fall away when she took charge. But this time had been something more. For the first time, Cecily had given into her playful side with complete abandon. It left Rorie both intoxicated and unsettled.
Gazing into the eyes of the woman she had loved for half a lifetime, Rorie was rocked to her core with the realization that everything she wanted was finally in her grasp. A wave of pleasure washed over her, a thousand times sweeter than any of the physical sensations she’d just experienced. But the feeling quickly ebbed, replaced by fear of how easily it could slip away. Just the thought of losing Cecily after how far they'd come filled Rorie with dread.
As long as Rorie had known her, Cecily had kept herself hidden beneath a dull veneer of other people's expectations. How remarkable she was had felt like a secret only Rorie knew. But the more confidence she gained, the more she shone—and the more others would take notice. Cecily claimed she didn't want fame, but Rorie had always believed that she could be a star, and now she was in a place in her life where that prediction could come true. The seduction of Hollywood could be overwhelming. If Cecily truly realized all the options that were open to her once she emerged from her shell, would the life they had envisioned together be enough to satisfy her?
Rising up from the tub, Rorie vowed that she’d do anything to get Cecily to the point where she could commit to being together, fully and completely, forever. She would do whatever it took, support her in whatever way she needed, to make sure that what they had was enough. She watched as Cecily stood and dabbed at her glistening skin with a towel, wrapping it around her body before stepping out onto the tile. Pulse quickening, Rorie grasped the edges of Cecily’s towel, pulling gently to guide her toward the bedroom door. The details of her plan could be worked out later, but making love until the sun came up was a fine place to start.
Chapter 4
The ding of the elevator and a ringing phone reverberated through the sun filled lobby of Grant Studios when Cecily arrived for work on Monday morning. Framed posters advertising the most popular of their productions lined the walls, along with several life-size cardboard cutouts of animated characters. The wall behind the reception desk was lined with shelves that displayed the numerous awards the studio had won. The first floor was a busy space with actors, animators, writers, and technicians all passing through on their way to their designated departments. The entire process, from concept development to production and distribution, took place on site. In addition to the show Cecily was working on, the studio produced scores of other animated shows for television networks, cable providers, and streaming services around the world, and employed hundreds of people.
Cecily still couldn’t believe her good fortune that Harold Grant, founder of Grant Studios, had been in the audience of the Oakwood Theater on opening night last fall. She’d gone on stage as the understudy after Bailey Carter, the star of their show, was taken ill. Cecily had only the vaguest memory of her performance that evening, but Mr. Grant had been impressed enough to invite her to audition, and now here she was, a full-time actress in Hollywood. Or Hollywood-adjacent, technically. The sprawling studio was located in a nondescript collection of warehouses near the Port of Long Beach, but it felt like Hollywood to Cecily.
She took the elevator up to the third floor, where a long hallway led to a steel door, behind which the recording studio was located. This part of the building was much quieter and darker than the other departments since there were no windows to let in unwanted noises from the street. Cecily always felt a sense of reverence as she walked down that hall, like she was entering a church or a library. The feeling usually passed once she arrived in the break room, a relaxed and lively space where the day’s scripts and schedules were laid out on a central table, and where the other actors would sit and read lines until their call times while sipping coffee or having a snack.
She’d arrived early and there was only one other person in the room
at the moment. Cecily grinned when she saw that it was Stephanie, with whom she’d struck up an instant friendship the previous week. Stephanie was a full-figured African-American woman with a voice that was mellow and deep. She used the bland tone of a Los Angeles native in normal speech but had an amazing talent for taking on a convincing accent from almost anywhere in the world. She’d been working as a professional voice actor for over a decade and generously dispensed career advice whenever she and Cecily had a chance to chat.
“Cecily, there you are!” Stephanie smiled and gestured to an empty chair beside her. “Come sit down, tell me about your weekend. Did you do anything fun?”
Cecily thought back to the weekend and felt the heat rise in her cheeks. After going out Friday night, it had mostly been spent in bed. Fun, indeed, but not the kind you’d tell a coworker about. “It was…very nice.”
“There are fresh pastries by the espresso machine,” Stephanie said. “I have to say, this is the best gig I’ve ever had when it comes to food. Well, at least since the time I was an extra on a television show a few years back. The TV and film studios know how to feed you. But the nice thing about voice work,” she added, patting her fleshy hip, “is you don’t have to worry so much about keeping up the figure, am I right?”
Cecily looked down at her own not-quite-Hollywood-skinny figure and grinned. “Absolutely.” She hopped up and grabbed a raspberry Danish.
Stephanie laughed and shook her head. “All that food and half the people on those sets are too worried about gaining a pound to even touch it. I sure will miss this place after next week.”
“Next week?” Cecily wondered where Stephanie would be after next week and was about to ask but was interrupted when one of the sound engineers poked his head into the break room and announced that they were ready to begin.
The rest of the day was filled with recording new scenes as well as doing pick-ups from the day before: lines that for one reason or another had not recorded well the first time and needed to be re-done. Cecily had a blast working with Stephanie and the other members of the cast, and it struck her once again how lucky she was to have found this new life. As much as she'd always loved acting, she'd been too paralyzed by stage fright to dream it could be her career, but she couldn't recall feeling so fulfilled by anything else.
As she headed to her car at the end of the day, Cecily spotted Stephanie and was reminded of her comment from earlier in the day.
“Stephanie, you said something this morning about missing this place after next week. Are you going somewhere?” Cecily had gotten used to working with the woman and enjoyed her company, so she hoped she wouldn’t be gone for long.
“Auditions, honey! I’ll bet your agent has a ton of them lined up for you, too.”
“I don’t have an agent.” Cecily felt a prickle of unease. They had months of work ahead of them, so why would Stephanie be auditioning?
Stephanie looked at her in surprise. “You don’t? How do you line up jobs?”
“Well, I don’t know—this is my first one. Mr. Grant asked me to audition and I got the part, so I didn’t really need to worry about other jobs. I'm very happy here.”
“Wow, you must be some kind of millionaire if you can live on what this job pays without looking for other gigs.”
She did in fact have millions of dollars sitting in an investment account back in Connecticut, not that she wanted anyone to know. But Stephanie had said this teasingly, so Cecily just laughed along, still confused. “With what we get paid per episode, times the twenty-two episodes in the season, it’s more than enough for me to get by,” she explained.
Stephanie stopped walking and turned to look at her, her face lined with concern. “Honey, didn’t your agent go over the contract with you? Oh wait, that’s right. You said you don’t have an agent. Here.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card. “My agent’s card. You really need one.”
“Thanks,” Cecily mumbled, shoving the card into her purse. “But I still don’t understand. What would an agent have explained?”
“Well, the contract. The twenty-two episodes. That’s what the contract is for, but it’s not exactly a guarantee. Not right now, anyway. First they’ll do a smaller number, show the executives at the network, maybe run them to see the ratings. If it gets green-lit, only then do we come back to do the rest.”
Cecily stared at her friend, her eyes wide. “You mean, we don’t just keep working until the whole season is done?” Her heart sank as Stephanie shook her head. “You said a smaller number. How small a number?”
“Six episodes.”
Panic rose in Cecily’s chest, causing her throat to constrict. “Six?” she squeaked. “But, we started episode five today. That means we’ll be done by the middle of next week!”
“You need to line up some auditions, honey. Give my agent a call.”
“Oh, God.” Cecily took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing pulse. “There’s no way I can get an agent and get auditions set up so soon!” She wasn't even certain she wanted to. Having an acting career fall into your lap was one thing, but struggling along on the treadmill of auditions and rejections was something different. It was probably the only option, but she wasn't convinced she had it in her to see it through.
Stephanie chewed on her lower lip, contemplating. “How do you feel about commercials?”
“Commercials?” She wasn't sure what Stephanie meant. “Well, who likes watching commercials, really…”
“Not watching them, recording them. I run my own business out of my house, mostly doing voice work for local radio. As it happens, I’ve got a bunch of commercials piled up right now that need a second voice, but the girl I usually work with just booked a television pilot. Lucky bitch. You and I work well together and I think you could handle it. I’d pay you what I pay her. It’s not a lot, but—”
“Stephanie, you’re a lifesaver!” Cecily breathed a sigh of relief at this easy answer to her predicament. “Absolutely, I’ll do it. Anything to pay the bills.”
Commercials. It wasn’t glamorous, but Cecily had meant what she said. She’d give anything a try to bring in enough to pay the bills without dipping into her investment account. She was determined to make it on her own.
Cecily looked up and down the quiet suburban street, then double checked the address Stephanie had given her. This is the place. As she rang the bell, she sized up the modest ranch style house and tried to imagine where the studio might be. A separate building in the back, maybe?
“Welcome!” Stephanie greeted her as she opened the front door. “Come on in!” She led the way through a living room that was strewn with children’s toys. “Don’t mind the mess. The kids just got out of school for the summer and they’re tearing the place apart! They’re with the babysitter, though, so they won’t bother us while we work. The studio’s soundproof, but nothing can drown out the racket those kids can produce.”
Stephanie stopped in front of a door at the far end of the room. “Well, here it is!” she announced with pride as she turned the knob.
Cecily looked through the door and blinked a few times, taking it in. It was a bedroom; or at least it had been at one time, as evidenced by the faded wallpaper border depicting an assortment of superheroes that decorated the wall. Dominating the room was a gray pod that appeared to be about the size of a large closet. There was a door with a glass panel in the front and Cecily could just make out that the interior was covered in black audio foam, making it look like it was covered in a giant egg-crate. A few feet away from the booth was a desk that held a computer monitor and a stack of assorted audio equipment. And, Cecily was startled to realize, that was all.
In her experience of recording studios, which was limited exclusively to the one at Grant Studios, they were massive rooms that could fit a grand piano and an entire Broadway cast. They had a separate control booth filled with so much complicated equipment it was hard to tell if they were producing a cartoon or getting ready to launch a
mission to Mars. Cecily wasn’t certain what to say. “This is…”
“State of the art, honey. Top of the line.”
Cecily nodded and took a closer look around her. If this was all it took to create a studio in her house, she just may have found the solution to her money problems. “Did it take a long time to set up?”
“My husband and I put it together in a weekend. But it took a decade to save up the money to buy it.”
Cecily’s heart sank. “It’s expensive, then?”
“Well, it wasn’t cheap. People get by with less—even I did for a long time—but if you want the highest paying jobs, you need to invest in the equipment.”
Cecily definitely wanted the highest paying jobs. She was still reeling from the shock of discovering how little of the income she’d counted on from Grant Studios was guaranteed, and how long she’d have to wait to see the rest of it—if she saw the rest at all. “Maybe you can give me some tips later, if you don’t mind? I mean, you’ve already done so much. But just point me in the right direction? You know, what equipment I’d need, how to hire a sound engineer—”
Stephanie cut her off with a hearty laugh. “Sound engineer? This is a one woman operation. I do it all, from recording to editing—well, you’ll see when we get started.”
Cecily studied the equipment again with apprehension. “That seems like a lot to learn.”
“You’ll catch on. Why don’t we head into the booth and see what we’ve got first.”
There were two stools and a microphone on an adjustable boom. The only other thing in the tiny space was a laptop computer on a corner shelf, which was already loaded with the first script. Stephanie took the seat closest to the computer while Cecily perched on the edge of the other. Once they were inside with the door closed the space felt close, but not nearly as cramped as Cecily had feared it would be.
“Like I explained the other day,” Stephanie said, “these are all commercials for small businesses to play on local radio spots. Pretty low pressure. Mostly they’re for stores that want that ‘one girlfriend tells another girlfriend about a sale’ type of ad. They can be boring as hell after a few, so I like to change up the voices a little, try a different accent. Nothing crazy. Maybe you want to start with something like that cute southern accent you use for Sonya the Squirrel.”
Love's Encore Series (Books One and Two) Page 26