by T Stedman
After last minute touch ups to his make-up, he made his way to the set.
The director was giving instructions to the two stunt men. One was to ride the horse at a canter and the other was to leap off a tree, knocking him off the horse. The camera would cut and Mark would take the place of one of them to shoot a close up of him ripping out the other’s throat.
At this point he could see the girl warming up the horse. She was riding in circles, first one way and then the other. She then rode past the tree with the cameras and the lights to make sure none of it scared the horse, causing him to spook and ruin the take. After she had done this a few times she dismounted and helped the stunt actor arrange his stirrups before he loped off to repeat the run.
Mark watched her amble away in her over-long chaps. He slowly walked over and made sure he would bump into her.
“Hey, nice riding,” he said, and held the tops of her arms, and looked into her face.
Confusion briefly flickered across it. “Hello,” she said, and took a step backwards, out of his grip.
“Forgive me,” he said, and inclined his head. “I just had to come over.”
“You’re English?” she remarked, regaining her composure.
“Close. Listen, would you like to get a coffee? It will be a while before I’m called, they’ll be doing the takes with the horse a while yet.”
“Okay, but I need to stand by in case they need me.”
“Of course.” And he went off to the catering van and brought back two coffees and some biscuits. They both sat down on some camping chairs. “Here, have a biscuit.”
“No, thank you.” She blew over the top of her coffee.
“Go on, you have a great figure.” Pushing the plate back towards her.
“No really, I can’t eat that type of food. I have a bad reaction.”
Mark smiled, of course she couldn’t. “Forgive me,”
“It’s okay, you couldn’t know.”
He stared at her for a few moments. “Was that your boyfriend who collected you last night?”
She squinted while she thought for a second. “Who Cash? No, he’s a friend. I work for him here on the film. I’ve known him for a couple of years.” She smiled to herself as she sipped her drink.
“A great DJ and a horse woman?”
“They are my two loves, music and horses.”
Mark’s brain was going at a hundred miles an hour; how to get closer to her, and give his brothers time to get there to give him further instructions.
“No room for a man in your affections?”
She eyed him suspiciously without answering him.
He was taken aback. Never had he met a member of the opposite sex who was immune to his charms; especially when he was working so damn hard.
“I don’t have any time for romance,” she concluded, and stood up.
“Wait! Just as friends … of course …” he said, grasping at straws.
“Sorry, I’m going back to the UK tonight.”
Shit! “Listen, can I meet up with you if I get some time off? In London perhaps?”
“Perhaps,” she said, as she tried to move away from him.
“Before you go, can I get your number? Here, put it straight into my phone.” And he handed it to her.
She punched in the digits quickly, looking up as the large cowboy approached them.
“Ready Tia?” he said, eyeing Mark suspiciously. “I think they’ve finished with us for today.”
Mark tried to introduce himself, offering his hand, but almost flinched at the cowboy’s expression. “I know who you are,” he said aggressively, steering Tia away from him.
Mark was left unsettled. He needed to get rid of the bulldog who was obviously guarding her. ‘Protector,’ he thought. Must tell his brothers about him.
He strode off to make the call.
***
Tia couldn’t believe she had actually called him, and was even more surprised when he revealed that he’d been in LA on business. She had told him she was travelling back and he’d suggested travelling back together.
Tia’s heart fluttered when she saw him. He looked much more casual this time in a checked cotton shirt, jeans and boots. None of it was discount store though; all expensive, quality stuff. His mousy blond hair, razor sharp around the sides, was left long on top and flopped lazily into one eye. He leant against a wall; man bag over his shoulder; carry on between his feet.
His face lit up when she approached him; beaming his gorgeous, slow smile, gluing her eyes to his sensuous mouth.
“Hey!” he said quietly, and leant in straight away and kissed her cheek.
Wow. She felt a jolt down to her toes and he smelled great. Clean, expensive and male. She’d never get enough of that.
“Hey!” she replied, trying not to gawp at him too much.
She went to walk towards the departure lounge.
He caught her by the elbow. “This way, I’ve upgraded you.”
She stopped, blinked and processed the information.
“Come on,” he continued. “You can’t prefer cattle class.”
She raised her eyebrows and he put his arm around her shoulders, steering her in his direction.
She had to admit to herself as they snuggled into their first class cubicles, that this was a much preferable way to travel from LAX to London.
“Are you used to all this?” she asked him, as he turned his chair to face her and passed her a scotch on the rocks.
“Yes,” he said flatly, with no arrogance or boasting.
“You are a bit like me though.”
He looked at her surprised. “Oh, how so?”
“You don’t like talking about yourself much either.” She watched his small, embarrassed smile.
They were both silent for a few minutes.
Then he reached for another small scotch bottle. “What about if we play a game, where we allow the other to ask three questions?”
She thought about this for a few seconds while she sipped her drink. “Anything?”
“Anything.” He flashed that knockout smile again.
“You don’t know enough?” She grinned soppily back.
He barked a laugh. “No, I don’t know enough.”
***
Whether he liked to admit it or not, this one was under his skin and he needed to know more of her and now she knew it. He felt a curious pang of vulnerability.
“Okay then, can I go first?” she said, and smoothed her hand along her thighs. It was, he realised, a habit of hers when she needed time to think.
“Go ahead.” He tilted his glass towards her.
“Right … where did you grow up, and who with?”
“That’s two questions.”
“No it’s not…stop stalling.”
“Okay,” he agreed and laughed. “South East London, and mother.
“No dad?”
“Is that another question?”
“No, no! Ignore that one.”
“My turn,” he said, and smiled at her. “Same question then.”
“Oh … outskirts of London … South … Foster mother and two half-brothers.”
He took a slug of his drink making sure he didn’t give away any sign of pity. He’d already clocked an air of fragility about her. She hid it well but he didn’t want to blow her cover.
“Your turn,” he said, and gestured her to continue with his glass.
“I thought you must have had a posh upbringing to run that hotel?”
“Me, no … Something ‘street’ about me, remember?”
She laughed at the reminder. “You still haven’t really answered the question?”
“Okay … my best friend’s father asked me to work there for him … My turn, isn’t it? Did you kill Dannyl?” It was straight to the point – no point beating around the bush. He needed to know what he was dealing with.
The shock of the question made her choke as she swallowed her drink, “Don’t mince your words,” she said, laug
hing.
“What?” he said, laughing along with her. “It’s a reasonable question. Do I need to sleep with a knife under my pillow?”
She got serious for a moment, as if remembering, contemplated the question and looked down into her drink. “Yes… I feel like I did…I mean, I wished it.” She looked up straight into his eyes. “Then his heart just stopped.”
He wasn’t sure how deep her feelings had gone for the bloke, but from what he knew of Dannyl, he was a devious, self-serving egomaniac. He could only guess how she was treated. Instead of pressing her, he looked intently at her for a minute. “I don’t think you’re dangerous,” he said, softly.
Dispersing her glum mood, she said, “You assume you’ll be sharing a bed with me then?” She was joking but still tried not to look him in the eye. Her coyness was lovely.
“Yes,” he said simply, as if no other option was even possible. Drawing her eyes to his directly and they locked for a long moment.
She shook her head as if to break the spell. “Last question – your tattoos? They don’t exactly go with your lifestyle.”
He smiled and let her off the hook and considered her question. Of all the questions she could have asked, she had hit on the subject, which was most revealing about him. He debated whether to give her the same old bollocks he gave all the girls but there was something about her, maybe her own honesty and vulnerability. “My best friend made me get them done.”
Her eyebrows drew together as if she didn’t get it.
“He said the symbols were some kind of ancient spell or prayer or something, from where he’s from. It is supposed to keep me safe and give me luck, or something.” He shook his head dismissing the emotion and looked into his drink. “I am sceptical.”
“That’s a really nice thing,” she said softly, as if she recognised his bond with his friend. “I mean you have a charmed life, don’t you?”
“I guess so,” he said smiling. He hadn’t really thought about it like that before. “Any way,” and he changed the subject. “I have one left.”
“Fire away.”
“Do you have anyone special in your life at the moment?”
She laughed, “Mm.” As if she was nervous about answering.
“Just like to know if I have any competition?”
“Two.”
“Two?” He was not expecting that answer and tried not to look too shocked, but strangely for him, when it sunk in, he was not put off.
“They are just friends … platonic … but we’re close.”
He nodded, his brain whirring as he studied her. He nestled back into his chair. The personal questions stopped there. He decided that was enough for one day.
During the rest of the flight they listened to music, slept a little, chatted about films, places in the world they’d like to visit – surface stuff. So the journey passed quickly.
As they landed, she agreed to come to his hotel for a while, before she travelled back to Kent, where he’d learned she lived, but she was cagey about the address.
***
Tia rode in Jay’s chauffeur driven car back to his hotel in London. By then it was around midnight. Jay had had her bike moved from the airport to the garage at the hotel on the pretext that she must be tired. That he wanted to spend more time with her gave her butterflies.
As they arrived, her stomach flipped at the memory of the last time she’d been there, it had been steamy to say the least. She grew hot at the thought, wondering if her cheeks were red, giving her away.
When they walked in, Jay held her elbow as they went through the foyer and straight to the lift. He greeted people he knew or worked for him, issuing orders not to be disturbed until the next morning.
They were alone as they stepped in the lift. She gasped as he roughly pulled her to him as soon as the doors closed and was on her mouth in an instant. She complied without thought and melded to him as he pushed her to the wall of the lift and his fingers kneaded her shoulder and her backside. Hers reached into his wayward hair.
As lost in the moment as she was, she still became acutely aware of her core temperature rising dangerously. The doors opened as they reached the top floor. He pulled her with him, not breaking the seal of their lips, slid his keycard down the edge of the door, kicked the door backwards and pulled her into the room.
“Stop!” she managed to say. “Shower!” she said, craning her neck towards the door she knew led to the bathroom.
He stopped and leaned back slightly so he could look at her face. His face was flushed with want and lips swollen from kissing.
She knew how red she was when he led her quickly to the room she wanted to go to.
When they got inside he turned the dial on the shower and started to unbutton her shirt. “Are you okay?” he asked, while his fingers worked, his expression worried.
“I look that bad then?” She looked up at him wearily while he made quick work of her buttons.
“You are very red.”
“Turn it to cold,” she said, and quickly walked under the spray.
Jay whipped his own clothes off and joined her. He put his arms around her waist; his eyes all concern. He remained quiet, waiting.
“It happens when I … you know … get worked up.”
He seemed oblivious to the cold. “Can I ask you a personal question?” he said searching her face.
She nodded, sheepishly, waiting for the blow.
“Was it really your first time, the last time we were together?”
“Yes.” She said, quietly. “I’ve tried a couple of times before, but it never worked. I always overheat … But last time, with you in the shower, it was fine.”
He leant down, picked up her arms and put them around his neck. He kissed her again; deeply and with meaning. He leant back again as if checking she was okay. Then he traced a finger along the dark grey stripes, which had begun to show around her biceps, “These aren’t tattoos, are they?”
She shook her head, looking down; damned in the shower and damned out.
“Turn around.” He lifted her hair and she knew he was looking at her little brown dots, which appeared from her hairline, down to her nape where they came to a point, and travelled down the length of her spine to her coccyx. Not to forget more stripes, getting darker by the minute, along the ridges of her ribcage from back to front. He ran a finger along them slowly, and lovingly. He didn’t say anything and she was grateful, but she felt the silence was laden.
“I have them whenever I get wet … the longer I’m in water the darker they get and the longer they stay. I have no idea why.”
He turned her around to face him again, “Do you like being with me?” he said, and stepped closer to her, so she could feel him right up against her, and had no doubt what he wanted.
She looked him boldly in the eye, “Yes I do … very much.” She pulled his head slowly down to her mouth again. “I want you,” she whispered against his mouth, and he swept her up.
God, she loved the roughness of him. It called to every part of her and pressed all her buttons to ‘go’. He travelled down and kissed her as he went. Grazing his teeth and sucking when he got to her breasts, which felt heavy and ached to be touched. Swirling his tongue and drawing into his mouth her nipples. He went from one to the other and then lower. He teased and licked first to one hip and then the other. She hitched a breath when he dipped his head down and reached the juncture of her thighs. He pulled a leg out from under her roughly, and put it over his shoulder. She cried out at the bolt of pleasure at the first contact of his tongue. He kissed, lapped and swirled around her bud. He knew exactly what to do. Thumbs, fingers, tongue.
As it was becoming too much to bear she tugged him from his shoulders. “I want you,” she said between breaths, “Please.” He moved slowly back up her body still teasing her with his skilled mouth.
When he stood, he stopped still suddenly and looked at her body. Her skin was now paler, almost grey and was emblazoned with its dark bands, even under h
er cheekbones. Her heart stopped for a beat and she held her breath, not knowing whether he would reject her as too weird. Then he groaned and lifted her on a growl and pulled her down onto him hard. Relief and pleasure surged through her so she thought her heart would burst.
He used the ledge as anchorage as he drove into her, biting her neck and shoulder hard as he went. The instinct to bury himself was strong and overriding, again and again. The rougher he was, the more she wanted.
She felt herself building as she’d done the previous time, but with it was something else – something coming along with it. Whatever it was, it was strong and was ramping her core temperature up higher than it had ever been. Before she could analyse it too deeply, her orgasm hit her, smashing into her, heart and mind; making her gasp his name as she dissolved, causing him to follow in pounding rhythm after her.
Gradually he slowed, along with their breathing, until she slowly unlinked her legs from behind him, and slid down his body to stand.
He leaned his forehead on hers, “Sorry I was rough – you make me crazy,” was all he could say between breaths, shaking his head slightly.
“It’s okay, please don’t apologize.” She sidestepped around him on jelly legs and grabbed a towel. Then she passed one to him, which he tied around his waist.
They were both still flushed; their heart rates still up.
“I should go,” she said, looking over at him nervously.
He was all rosy-cheeked and gave her his shy smile and she thought, I’m so in trouble. She’d never met anyone who excited her like he did.
“That’s my line, you know,” breaking into full heartbreak smile offensive.
Fuck, she thought. “Really, I should go,”
“Okay,” he said, and walked over to hug her.
She put up a defensive hand. “Stop! You’ll do it again if you continue.”
He laughed, placated. “Okay … I’ll let you escape … this time.”
She gathered her stuff together and dressed. Her heart sang though. The promise in his last words meant that he wanted it to continue. He’d seen her transformed and still wanted her. Fuck, I’m in danger of falling for him.
She gave him a quick goodbye and a promise to be in touch soon.