by Dee, Bonnie
“Muy caliente. Why don’t you ever dress up like that for me?”
“Didn’t know you wanted me to. But speaking of costumes, there’s a dairy maid outfit I have in mind for you with this tight lace-up bodice to push your tits up, and a blouse that’s scooped down to here.” He demonstrated deep cleavage.
She pushed against his fancy shirtfront. “You’re funny.”
Michael hauled her to him, cupping the back of her neck as he swept his tongue into her mouth. Elena wilted against him like a rose petal in the sun, lips pliant beneath his demanding kiss.
“God, it’s good to have you home,” he said when he finally drew back.
She didn’t want to tell him the studio required yet another trip to L.A. for more movie promotion. And she really didn’t want to tell him about her latest job offer, which she hadn’t even begun to consider yet because the implications were so huge.
“Come on.” He took her hand. “Let’s find someplace more private.”
“We could skip the restaurant and be home in our own bed in less than fifteen minutes.”
“I know. But I can’t wait. Besides, it’s more fun this way.” He turned to her with bedroom eyes and a devilish smile.
Her pulse fluttered and her insides melted. Her sex felt like warm taffy, pliant and soft. When he gave her that look, she was reduced to a quivering pile of need. Okay, her inner submissive whimpered as he led her down a side hallway. Whatever you say.
The corridor was narrow and dark, its original purpose in the labyrinthine theater impossible to guess. Other than a few cobweb-covered flats leaning against one wall there was nothing in it. Michael lifted Elena and pressed her up against the wall, moving between her legs as she hooked them around his hips.
“Mm. This is familiar.” She threaded her hands through his gelled hair and pulled his head toward her. Their mouths meshed for long moments, tongues clashing, lips sucking greedily, then Michael moved to her chest. He suckled her nipples right through the fabric of her shirt.
Elena squirmed. The sucking sensation left her breasts tender and brought her nipples to hard peaks. She wanted her shirt off and his warm, wet mouth on her bare flesh. As he nursed first one breast then the other, he pressed between her legs, rubbing his erection against her crotch.
She reached for his fly, fumbling with the button of the tuxedo trousers. He pulled his cock from the confines of his briefs, while she tugged her skirt up and pushed aside the crotch of her panties. With a few deft moves, he was buried inside her.
The rush and possibility of being caught by someone in this dusty, forgotten hallway added an element of erotic excitement that heightened every sensation. Elena was wet and open for him, making his passage slick and easy. Michael pinned her arms to the wall on either side of her head and fucked her fast and furious, grunting like a caveman.
Elena’s arousal ratcheted up several notches when she heard the distant sound of voices talking. “Oh God,” she muttered, and bore down on his hard cock.
Michael gazed into her eyes while his hips continued to piston against her. He kept his focus on her as long as he could, until his climax overtook him and his eyes squeezed shut. He groaned and shuddered. His cock pulsed deep inside her, filling her.
Her inner muscles milked him, and a gathering swell of desire glowed white hot in her core. Seeing Michael’s handsome face distorted by ecstasy above that elegant black bowtie and feeling his hard hands pinning her wrists to the wall, pushed her over the edge. Her inner tension erupted, sending waves of heat flooding through her like molten lava. She arched and her pussy clenched hard around him.
“Dios!” She tried to muffle her cry, but it resounded in the stillness. She could never get enough of this man, not in bed or out of it. Her body quaked as the pulses of her climax gradually subsided.
After a few moments, Michael let go of her wrists. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, while he held her. Heat radiated from his neck and through the jacket. He must be burning up beneath all that formalwear.
He set her down on her feet and reached to loosen his tie, exhaling a long breath.
Twitching her skirt into place, Elena leaned against the wall and watched him tuck away his cock and zip up. She reached to touch the shiny lapel of the tux. “Love the look. Very Gatsby.”
Michael chuckled and leaned to kiss her, brushing a hank of hair back from her face. “I like your look, too. Very primitive jungle woman.”
He slipped a hand around her waist and guided her out of the hallway. “So how did the interview go?”
“Great. It should be on TV Wednesday evening. She asked about my significant other. Evidently there’ve been pictures taken. I guess we’re newsworthy now all because of this movie. God, when I think of paparazzi, I don’t want to get any more famous than this.”
Michael looked around the backstage area they were walking through. “And I’m completely happy with semi-obscurity as long as the work’s steady.”
“Machnik has me on a flight to L.A. next week for more promo gigs.” She slipped her arm through his. “So I thought maybe this weekend we should finally go see your mother.”
He grimaced. “Really?”
“Come on. You’ve been to my mom’s apartment for dinner several times. We have to give your mother equal attention.”
“You don’t know what she’s like.”
“No, because I haven’t met her.” Elena enunciated the last words.
“I know,” Michael conceded. “It’s just…she’s very conscious of her social position. To put it bluntly, she’s a snob. I don’t want to subject you to her.”
“You think she’s going to give me crap because I’m Latina?” Even though she’d guessed as much, it stung.
He nodded. “Subtly and with a smile on her face.”
Michael swung her to face him. “If she starts with her snide comments, I’ll tear into her, and why put ourselves through that when we don’t have to?”
Elena pulled her hands from his and slid them up the front of his rumpled white shirtfront. She tilted her head to look up into his eyes. “Sweetheart, whatever she dishes out, I can throw right back at her. Trust me. All you have to do is bite your tongue and let me deal with her.”
“Oh yeah?” A smile quirked the corners of his mouth. “I’d like to see that.”
“No matter how annoying your mother is you can’t shut her out of your life. She may not be your favorite person, but she’s family, and family’s important.”
Michael rested his forehead against hers. “How come you’re so much wiser than me?”
“I’m a woman.”
“Oh, right.” He gave her a quick kiss then let her go. “Fine, I’ll call and set something up for this weekend if she can make time for us in her busy social calendar.”
“Good.” She was glad to have it settled, but meeting Michael’s mom wasn’t the biggest item on her agenda. She had news to share that she couldn’t keep to herself any more.
“There’s one more thing.” She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. “I wasn’t going to tell you until I’d had time to consider it, but then I realized you have a right to know—to be in on my decision-making right from the beginning.”
“Yeah?”
For a moment, she was distracted by his eyes, nearly indigo and gazing at her with concern, a slight furrow between the brows.
“Machnik said there might be a part for me in a movie directed by Roger Geddrick, some action blockbuster thing. He sent me the script to look over.” She paused. “There would be location shoots in several different countries.”
“Have you read the script yet? What do you think of it?” His expression and voice were unreadable.
“Barely had time to glance at it. It’s not great, but it’s not too horrible. The studio wants me for a starring role. So, what do you think?”
He touched the side of her face. “I think you have to decide for yourself. If you want the role, you s
hould take it. We’ll make it work somehow. I learned my lesson the first time, and I won’t lose you over something as stupid as a little geography.” He leaned to kiss her, then added, “But for the record and so you know I care…I’ll miss you and wish you didn’t have to go.”
Elena smiled, her nervous stomach settling and her spirit lifting. “I also have that audition for a revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof later this week.”
“Whatever you want to do,” he assured her. “But if we have to be apart a while, well, that’s why God created phone sex.”
Elena wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him hard. “You know, you turned out to be a pretty good boyfriend after all.” She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes, relaxing under his hand stroking her back.
“You’re not too bad either. Still kind of uptight and intense, stubborn, a little anal retentive, hot-tempered and opinionated, but—”
She punched his shoulder. “Quit while you’re ahead.”
His laugh was a pleasant rumble against her ear. He pushed her away and turned to go get changed into his street clothes.
Elena watched his tuxedo-clad figure walk away and smiled. Mine. All mine.
She wandered onto the stage through the nearly finished construction of an elaborate drawing room set. At the apron of the stage, she looked down into the small orchestra pit, then gazed at the rows of empty seats upholstered in faded blue. She imagined them full of people caught up in the story being played out onstage, their attention caught, their cynicism suspended as they listened like children to a story.
There were many times in life when it was hard to see the long-range consequences of a decision, but right now she knew she was standing at a crossroads. She could actually look down one road and the other, visualizing the shape of her life depending on which path she took. What did she want? What was her character’s motivation?
She imagined big paychecks, media attention, exotic locations and world travel…and many lonely hotel nights and long distance calls with Michael. Then she closed her eyes and imagined hot lights bathing her in brightness. Maggie the Cat was an actress’s dream role, a fiery, sexually frustrated woman who threw scenery-chewing tantrums.
Elena would shine in the part if she got it.
On the way home she’d stop by a bookstore and pick up a copy of the Tennessee Williams play to study before her audition. She knew she would land the role. In her mind she already heard applause washing over her.
Opening her eyes, Elena smiled at the empty theater and took a bow.
Curtain Close
About the Author
To learn more about Bonnie Dee, please visit http://bonniedee.com. Send an email to Bonnie Dee at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Bonnie Dee! http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bonniedee
Look for these titles by Bonnie Dee
Now Available:
Finding Home
Evolving Man
Opposites Attract
Blackberry Pie
Perfecting Amanda
The Valentine Effect
Coming Soon:
Empath
Her family, her friends and her conscience all say it’s wrong to fall for the hustler she rescued from the streets. How come it feels so right?
Finding Home
© 2006 Bonnie Dee and Lauren Baker
Her family, her friends and her conscience all say it’s wrong to fall for the hustler she rescued from the streets. How come it feels so right?
When Megan first meets Mouth, a homeless teenage hustler, on the streets of L.A., he’s the perfect subject for the street life expose she hopes will help her break into journalism. She doesn’t expect to be drawn into his life and become his friend—or to take him in after he’s been beaten and robbed by thugs.
As they learn to live together, a powerful attraction flourishes between Megan and the young man. Although he’s street smart, tough and mature, he’s also a youth in transition. When they finally give in to the sexual heat between them, Megan fears she’s taking advantage of her position as his mentor.
Their relationship challenges every aspect of her life. Megan must make difficult choices between the conflicting demands of her friends and family, her career and love.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Finding Home:
They were the first to arrive. Stevie greeted them at the door, hugging Megan and shaking Sean’s hand before taking the wine from Megan.
Megan watched him closely. Stevie was the only one of the friends present today who hadn’t met Sean before finding out about their relationship. He was also thoughtful, rational, a good judge of character, and his opinion would influence the others. So she was a little apprehensive about his reaction.
“What can I get you guys, some beer? A glass of wine? Anything else?”
“You should try Stevie’s beer. He’s got this real microbrew fetish and always has something new to try out,” Megan told Sean. “But beware of the spiel he’ll try to feed you about the best brewing methods.”
Sean looked at her, the ghost of a smile flitting across his face. “Hey, I’m a guy. I can handle beer talk,” he said, mock-serious. The tension eased in her stomach. This was working. The boys could be cool with each other.
“I’ll go see how Sasha’s doing, then. And Stevie? I’d love a white wine, please. How come James isn’t here yet? He never turns down an occasion to raid your beer cellar before eating.”
As it turned out, Megan discovered in the kitchen that James and his waitress had just called to warn they’d be late due to car trouble. Allegedly, because as Sasha told her while they took out the pumpkin pie and put it on a plate, he’d sounded very out of breath on the phone. She was prepared to bet whatever had been slowing them down wasn’t engine-related.
“You think he called you in mid-fuck?” Megan asked, chuckling.
“I think he was in the car, actually. And I think Ms. Waitress is a pretty limber girl who might just have been giving him a blowjob at that point.”
Megan laughed. “Well, at least he’s bound to be in a good mood when they arrive.”
She was right. When James walked in ten minutes later towing a very pretty, young and remarkably well-endowed blonde behind him, he was in exuberant spirits. “Hey, everybody, meet Kerry!” He kissed Megan and Sasha, hugged Stevie, and nodded briefly at Sean, his expression neutral.
Kerry hugged everyone all around, and kissed Stevie and Sean enthusiastically to their obvious delight.
Megan bit her tongue when she saw Sean’s eyes drawn to Kerry’s chest for at least ten seconds before he snapped them back up. He caught her looking at him and made a sheepish face.
While everyone milled around the living room, pouring drinks and exchanging greetings, Sean pressed close to Megan and whispered in her hair, “Totally fake. I’ll take yours anytime.” His hand brushed against her ass in a lascivious caress that sent messages of lust through her body.
They sat down to eat shortly after. Sasha’s spread was opulent enough to satisfy the most exacting of standards. Megan thought even her mom would have been impressed. She certainly was. The turkey was impressive, and the table was crammed with mounds of mashed potatoes, candied yams, cornbread, several salads, cranberry sauce and pickles.
Sean pulled up a chair directly across from Megan. James’s bimbo sat next to him, flashing him a grin that slightly annoyed Megan. Less so when she felt Sean’s foot slyly rubbing her ankle in a gesture designed to evoke both reassurance and desire.
Conversation flowed around the dinner table, fuelled by alcohol, food, and longstanding friendship. Megan noted with pleasure that Sean sometimes joined in, in his reserved way, and his dry humor struck a chord with her friends. She was especially pleased to see Stevie engage him a couple of times and nod approvingly at her when he caught her watching them. James was less friendly, scowling at Sean occasionally, but managed to hold back from making rude comments.
/> Kerry was the classic ditzy L.A. blonde, complete with aspirations to make it in the movies and a brain roughly as small as her cup size was large. The guys, of course, cut her plenty of slack. But Megan caught James’s eye during a particularly inane tirade about cosmetic surgery and he looked embarrassed. She might have teased Kerry a little if Sean’s sock-clad foot hadn’t been insistently stroking her inner thigh in the most distracting manner.
“You can’t be serious!” Sasha’s voice rose with indignation. “You think it’s right that teenagers should get breast implants? You don’t think that’s maybe a little premature?”
Sean’s foot slid farther up Megan’s thigh, inhibiting higher brain functions and preventing her from joining in the debate without her voice betraying her. She looked across at him.
His face was impassive, head tilted slightly to the side, as though listening to the conversation, but Megan knew he was completely focused on her right now. His eyes were the only clue to what was happening under the table, the blue edged out by his dilated pupils.
“Well, you know, Sasha, I had these done when I was nineteen. You can’t see the scars. I’ll show you in the bathroom if you want. The surgeon who did them was a real pro. My dad paid for them. He said nothing was too good for his princess. And I haven’t regretted it yet,” Kerry said proudly.
There was a pause as her words sank in. James cringed and poked at his mashed potatoes.
Megan tuned out of the conversation then as Sean’s toe reached her underwear and started pressing against her crotch. She focused all her concentration on keeping her breathing even and not making any noise. She wouldn’t be able to keep it going for long. He pushed against her clit, harder, and she had to bite back a moan. Kerry might be monopolizing the attention right now, but if Megan had an orgasm at the table, she was pretty sure she’d steal the show.
Sean stared at her, lips slightly parted, and when their eyes locked, he smiled crookedly.