by J. C. Grant
“That's what you need?” he asked in a tone I'd never heard before, but my body didn't hesitate in releasing a new flood of arousal.
God, that voice. Smooth, deep, and husky, going straight to my pussy.
“I need you to fuck me so I can get through a few more hours.” My hands moved to the hem of his shirt, lifting. But he quickly took over, pulling his shirt off with one smooth motion.
I took a moment, appreciating the view of layers of honed muscle shifting under his flawless skin. Unable to resist, my fingers trailed along his strong traps, down his sculpted pecs, tracing the deep grooves of his eight pack.
“What're you gonna do when I'm not here?” His tone was still pure sex, but the genuine concern was clear as his hands settled on my bare hips, thumbs brushing back and forth in a rhythmic sweep.
“Be a miserable, uptight bitch.”
“You're not as bad as you think you are... And I'll fake an injury anytime you want,” he murmured against my lips before claiming them in a heated kiss. His right hand moved, sliding up my inner thigh, stopping when his fingertips reached the crease. “I was going to complain about this slit, but its seriously convenient.”
Those fingers brushed back and forth. Teasing me. “And I think you’re about to fulfill one of my childhood fantasies.”
“What’s that?” I breathed, my body strung tight with anticipation, aroused by nothing more than his lips, voice, and those skilled digits.
“Fucking Jessica Rabbit,” he admitted huskily, his heated gaze held mine as his teasing fingers left me, moving to his mouth, dragging them across the flat of his tongue. It was raw, vulgar, and hot as hell.
Then those slick, warm digits met my sex, pushing into me with a controlled explicitness. My body shuddered, violent arousal shooting through me.
“Ugh.” I rotated my hips, working his fingers deeper. “Should’ve told me that at Halloween.”
I wasn’t actually horny when I pulled him into the trailer, but now...
“Goddamn, girl,” he groaned.
“Get your cock out,” I panted, riding his hand. When he didn’t immediately obey, I asked, “Are you hard yet?”
“Fuck, yeah.” His eyebrows pulled together, looking at me like I was crazy. “Been hard since you walked up in that dress, tits bouncing, hips swaying.” His hand on my hip squeezed, then roamed down my thigh and over the curve of my ass. His touch was both reverent and obscene, telling me he loved me, but he needed me to be his little slut, his dirty girl.
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” I started, remembering not to say sorry as I worked my cunt on his fingers. Using him.
“Yeah, you should. That’s what I want, let me see what you’re feeling. I fucking love it when you let loose like that—especially when it’s not because of me.”
I huffed a soft laugh, my hands dropping to his zipper, tugging and fumbling to get it down.
His fingers left me then, taking over the chore with easy, graceful movements.
“Up,” he muttered.
Without hesitation, I shifted up onto my knees as he lifted his hips, shoving his jeans down to midthigh.
“You wanted it, take it” he challenged, holding his dick out for me, a vulgar invitation. It was so swollen and angry, pulsing in his hand. My mouth watered, wanting to feel that velvet over steel throbbing against my tongue. The corset of my dress pinched as I shifted, reminding me I couldn't.
Definitely later.
Gripping his shoulders for balance, I slowly sank down, savoring the feel of the thick column of flesh pressing into me. .
“Oh God,” I gasped, settling in his lap, his wide head pushing against my end, his warm hips snugged tight between my inner thighs.
His length jerked deep inside me. Twitching.
I shivered and my pussy clenched, squeezing him tight.
His head fell back as he groaned, a low, guttural sound, heating my blood. His hands gripped my ass, tight, his arm holding the skirt out of the way, giving us a perfect view of our joined bodies. Lifting up, I watched his dick, glistening with my slickness.
“Watch,” I breathed, tucking my head into the crook of his neck.
I loved watching his cock moving in and out of me. Fucking me.
“Mmmm, that’s so hot when you watch,” he breathed.
*****
His hands slid up my sides, thumbs grazing the edges of my breasts, finger digging into my back in a greedy, possessive touch.
“How the hell is this thing staying up?” he rasped.
"Corset." l moved his hands down, letting him feel the rigid bodice setting on my hips.
"You've worn corsets before. This thing is like armor.” He tried to squeeze the unyielding garment.
I giggled. I actually fucking giggled. This man turned me into a school girl.
"Had one in my wedding dress.”
He made a rough sound of acceptance or annoyance; I couldn't tell which.
He sighed, resigned, getting to his feet, gripping my hand, and entwining our fingers.
“Okay, let's go test my restraint.”
I really hoped he could control himself for an hour or so. Over the weekend, we agreed I wouldn’t actually kiss anyone on the mouth, except Alec, and Alec and I would cheat kiss; slightly off to the side of the mouth. But the fact that he was going to see it...
On tiptoes, I kissed his throat, chin, and lips, then swore, “I love you so hard.”
“I love the fuck outta you. But save the sweetness till after. Or when I’m seeing red and trying to rip Alec’s head off for touching you.”
Fuck...
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
David
“Did you see?" Noah asked, holding his phone out to me, gloatingly as I entered the locker room. “Already replaced you," Noah informed me as I looked at the image of Alec sitting with my wife at the Polo Lounge.
The headline read, “Austin James Has A New Man.”
My anger flared. Not because they were together, though that was annoying, but because we had agreed they would wait a month to start being seen in public together. It hadn’t even been a week.
I glared at him, not wanting to show weakness, not wanting him to know how much that bothered me. Alec was spending time with my wife when I was struggling to get ten minutes alone with her.
Her filming schedule had been more intense than either of us had anticipated, and it’d only been five days. It hadn’t helped that I'd had night games—except today—which meant I hadn't been getting home until one a.m., while she had to be on set at seven a.m. But apparently she'd had time off this morning.
And the fact that she hadn't told me... I didn't have words to describe how I felt.
Devastated came pretty close.
“Watch yourself,” I warned Noah, before going to my locker.
Stripping, I grabbed a towel and my phone before heading for the trainer, trying to clear my mind of what might be going on with Austin.
Lying on the table, I checked my messages.
Austin: Alec got me a meeting with his agent.
Going to Polo Lounge. Break a bat for me!
9:13 AM
Austin: Went well! I miss you!!!! I can't wait
to see you tonight!!!
10:40 AM
Austin: I love you.
10:41 AM
Her text consoled me some, but not completely. As irrational as it was, I thought she should have asked my permission before going.
I dialed Austin.
“Hey, babe.” She sounded happy to hear from me, like nothing was wrong. “Did you get my texts?”
Unable to restrain myself, I demanded, “You need to tell me before you go to lunch with anyone. You need to check with me.”
“Are you mad?”
“Yeah, I'm fucking mad.”
And it wasn’t just about her going to lunch with Alec to meet an agent. I hated that she had been fine the past few days without me. Like she didn’t need me anymore. That first day, she ha
d been so fucking needy and clingy... I wanted her like that everyday.
“David, I actually don't,” she snapped back. “But I did text you to let you know.”
I loved her defiance, but not on this subject. I didn't want her having lunch with men who weren't me, and certainly not with men who I hadn't okayed beforehand.Knowing the only way to win an argument with her was in person, I said, “I'm not gonna argue with you over the phone. When are you getting on the plane?”
“After I'm done filming. We have two more scenes.” Her anger was already fading.
“Okay, but I'm not okay with that happened today,” I pressed.
“Yeah, I got that, David.” And her anger was back. “You're not here, and I can't stop everything until you call me back or text me back. It's unrealistic.”
“Not gonna argue with you over the phone, Austin.”
“Then don't. I'll see you soon.”
“Yes, you will,” I promised, quietly, darkly.
I ended the call feeling only marginally better than before. I knew it wasn't realistic for her to stop everything and wait to hear back for me, but that's what I wanted. I wanted to be included in every fucking decision she made.
****
Two hours later, my patience was wearing thin. I hadn’t heard from her, so I texted Fergus.
David: Is she on the plane yet?
5:55 PM
Fergus: No, they have one more scene
to get through and they just started it.
5:57 PM
Fucking fine.
David: I’ll be there in a little bit.
5:59 PM
When I arrived at the studio, security refused to let me in, only adding to how insignificant I felt in Austin's life.
“I'm sorry, sir. Miss James requested a closed set today. No guests allowed. I know you're her husband, I know who you are, but I just have to get clearance or I could get fired,” he rambled on.
If Austin requested a closed set, that meant someone had a nude scene today.
Could today get any fucking worse?
“Yeah, I get it,” I assured the security guard. I dug my phone from my back pocket and dialed Fergus. He answered immediately.
“I'm at the gate,” I said, then ended the call, not waiting for a response. I wasn’t giving him a chance to give me any excuses. Despite my warning, it seemed he was still protecting Austin from me at times.
Moments later, the security guard said, “You can go in now. Sorry again, Mr. Taylor.”
“No problem.” Because the truth was, it wasn't his fault. It was my fault. My relationship with my wife was not where it should be, and that was on me.
Going straight to her trailer, I didn't bothering knocking before I went in. She wasn't there. As I exited, I let the door slam a little too loudly, gaining attention from several crew members. Not having any idea where Austin was, I dug my phone out of my pocket. Just as I was about to call Fergus, I heard someone behind me say, “They just finished. She's on her way back, Mr. Taylor.”
Not wanting to cause scene, I sat in one of the chairs she had in front.
I didn't like this.
I didn't like it at all.
I felt like a fucking visitor in my wife's life. This shit was going to end today.
The sun had already set, but I would recognize my wife's silhouette anywhere, but she didn't recognize me until she got within ten feet of me.
“David? Oh my God, I was wondering who was sitting here waiting on me.”
“That's fucked up, don't you think?”
“What?” she asked, genuinely confused.
“That you didn't recognize me.”
“David, it's not like that,” she tried to explain.
“That's exactly how it is, Austin.”
I stood up and opened the door to her trailer, motioning for her to go in. “Come on.”
“Are we fighting?” she asked as she climbed up the steps.
“No.” I crowded in behind her, shutting and locking the door.
“Why are you here? I was coming to see you.”
“No, you weren't. You just now finished.”
If I would've waited in Phoenix for Austin, I wouldn't have been able to see her until midnight. I was tired of only seeing her for a few minutes before we fell asleep. And the fact that she didn’t seem to realize or care...
Then after moment I realized, “Where's Chance?”
“Fergus took him out to walk him a little bit.” Her voice was quiet, hesitant.
“Don't take a shower or bother washing your face, just change your clothes. We’re going straight home.”
I wanted our normal back, our routine. As stupid as it was, I wanted her at home with me when she showered and got ready for bed.
“Did you eat dinner yet?” I checked.
“No,” she answered quietly.
From her demeanor, she honestly had no idea what I was mad about. Or maybe she was counting on not having to see me until much later, so that she wouldn't have to talk about it.
Either way, she was obviously surprised by the current situation. And that pissed me off more, because if I was gonna fly to see my wife, to surprise my wife, I wanted her to be fucking happy to see me. And I wouldn't describe Austin's demeanor at that moment as pleased.
As I sat on the couch waiting for her to change, my gaze caught on the black chair. One of Alec’s jackets was tossed across the back, casual as could be. I couldn't help but wonder who all she’d had in the trailer with her when what she was doing caught my attention.
“Why are you changing back there with the door shut?” I called. “Austin?”
When she didn't respond. I got up and opened the door. She was standing there clutching a hoodie to her chest.
“Really? You're treating me like some fucking stranger now?”
“No, I... It's just habit now, I guess.”
A habit she formed in five days? Bullshit.
“You know, before I showed up here, I thought our only problem was communication, but now I'm realizing I'm a fucking tourist in my wife's life. I don't think I have to tell you that I really don't fuckin’ like the way that feels.”
She dropped the hoodie and hugged me tight. Her small hands moved underneath my T-shirt, sliding from the small of my back up my spine.
It was sick how relieved I was by that small gesture. My arms wrapped around her, the soft skin of her back under my fingertips, pulling her into me. That's what I wanted, to pull her into me, to never feel separated, to never feel like this again.
“I never meant for you to feel like that. I never want you to feel like that,” she murmured into my chest. “You're not a tourist. And I miss you so fucking much every day, but I don't want to tell you constantly. I don't want to put pressure on you, because I know you have to be gone.”
I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear that. That she missed me as desperately as I missed her.
Austin
“Is it always going to be like this?” I asked as I flopped down next to Alec on the sofa in my trailer.
We only had one more scene to do before we were officially done with the pilot. Then we’d have an entire week off before we started filming the next episode. And it had been exactly one week since David had showed up on set, pissed about my meeting with Alec and the agent.
“Like what?” Alec asked distractedly, looking through my DVR.
“This stressful? This time consuming?”
We'd been working twelve hour days for the past two weeks, and it was getting to be too much. David was getting more and more frustrated with my long hours and our conflicting schedules. And I couldn't blame him.
The past two weeks had been a painful adjustment—for both of us. David had held true to his word, coming home every night, but that frequently meant he wasn't getting home until long after I was asleep.
Something inside me ached at the loss.
Of us.
Our routine.
Somewhere along th
e way, David had become my best friend. And I missed him fiercely.
“No, I think it's just because it's the pilot. Has to be perfect. It can make or break the show. Sometimes a network determines future seasons based on it. You're just feeling that pressure. We all are.”
“I know... Do you think I made a mistake with some of the cast?” I checked, wondering if he had gotten any weird vibes from anyone.
There were three other regulars on the show, all of them had more screen time than Alec. But I hadn’t had the chance to get to know any of them, just Alec.
“No, we don't know each other yet. And I'm sure they're stressed too.” His genuine lack of concern eased my fears, a little.
Truth was, I was quickly regretting a casting choice I’d okayed four days earlier. For more than one reason. The big one being, David was pissed about it.
It had seemed like a good decision at the time.
“Knock, knock,” Sam, the director, barged in without actually knocking. “Having a wrap party at my house tonight, you guys in?”
“Yeah, I’ll stop by,” Alec pipped up.
“Uh,” I hesitated, not wanting to go at all. But if Alec was... “Yeah, definitely.”
“Great, it’s casual, no photo ops, just fun.” He handed me and Alec a big sticky note with his address.
“We’re almost ready, guys. Go ahead and get last looks.” He exited my trailer as abruptly as he entered.
Before I could ask Alec about the party, Jessica popped in. “They’re ready for you.”
Crap… Looks like I’m going.
David was going to be furious.
****
As soon as we arrived home, I told Fergus he could have the weekend off. He had been with me for the past five days without any time for himself—we both needed a break. And since he knew of my weekend plans, he agreed.