by Adele Buck
Let me know if you’re thinking about ditching the gig. You know I’d still love to play that role. I’d even risk burning bridges with the Folger and they’ve been great.
If Paul and Cath are sleeping together, I’d be careful around her now if I were you. You don’t want to do anything you’d regret. Paul’s probably not going to take your side over hers, even if she is being unreasonable. And I’ve lost count of the number of people in productions who end up sleeping together. If that’s unprofessional, this entire business is amateur.
And speaking as someone who knows you all too well, you definitely sound jealous.
Speaking of which, whatever happened with James, anyway? Have you gotten him to take his shirt off yet? Send pictures!
Love,
Alicia
To: Alicia Johnson
From: Susan Vernon
Subject: Re: RE: Unbelievable
Oh, there’s no way I’m giving up on this role. You can just stay cozy down there in Washington. Find yourself a nice congressman or something to keep you company.
Jealous? Don’t make me laugh.
James…he’s still beyond handsome. A little aloof though. I almost had breakfast with him, but I couldn’t stay in the same room with Cath after what she did.
—Susan
Chapter 16
Pausing at the register to pay their tab, Paul glanced over at Freddie and James. They were deep in conversation, leaning toward each other over the table. Glancing up, Freddie saw Paul was looking at them and froze, her eyes wide. Paul reached over to interlace his fingers with Cath’s, opening the front door of the diner and looking back as Cath walked out ahead of him. Freddie’s expression had transformed into one of amazement and James turned to see what had gotten her attention. Paul winked and followed Cath.
Stepping out into the hot morning air, he squeezed her hand. “So. What now? Besides finding a pharmacy.”
Cath chuckled. “If we were back home, there would be a Duane Reade on every corner. As it is, I bought toothpaste the other day at a little place a few blocks away.”
“Lead the way, fair lady.”
Shooting him a sidelong glance as they began to walk down the sidewalk, Cath said, “It feels funny to have you say that kind of stuff to me.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Complimentary. Romantic. That kind of stuff.”
“Does it bother you?”
Cath scrunched her nose, thinking. “I guess…I know you mean it, but I don’t really believe it at the same time?”
Pulling Cath to a stop, Paul turned to face her. “What don’t you believe?”
Tipping her head back, Cath looked at something over his shoulder. “Well, this morning you called me beautiful. We both know I’m not beautiful.”
Paul was momentarily dumbstruck. “Cath. I don’t know how to break it to you, but you are.”
Shooting him a dry glance, Cath said, “My face is too long, my mouth is too wide, I have no figure to speak of—”
“And you could have said all of those things about Carly Simon and she was a sex symbol in her day.” Cath rolled her eyes and he raised the hand that wasn’t twined in hers. “Cath. This wide mouth is perfect for kissing.” He touched her lips with a gentle finger. “You’re long and lean. Strong. All over and inside. You are beautiful. Even when those big, gorgeous eyes are looking at me like I’m the biggest liar East of the Mississippi. You can go ahead and not believe me if you want, but I’m going to continue to love looking at this face and love touching your body. Partly because of who you are and partly because you really are beautiful.”
Cath pursed her lips and looked at him, eyes twinkling with humor. “Aren’t men full of shit?”
Paul laughed. “Shirley Valentine. And yes, sometimes we are, but not this time. You’re going to have to take my word on that.”
Cath turned and resumed walking down the sidewalk, Paul falling into step beside her. She almost didn’t want to believe his words were true. She had become comfortable with her assessment of her looks. She figured it was the world’s assessment. She knew her value as a professional: competent, unflappable, experienced. That was what she focused on. Forget about the rest.
Paul’s words opened up a doorway to thoughts she wasn’t sure she wanted to consider. All this newness in her life made her feel off-kilter. It was a nice off-kilter, but it made her feel vulnerable and raw.
She was saved from having to think about this any further by a voice calling from down the street. “Well, I’ll be. It finally happened.” Standing a few yards away was Andrea, her dreadlocks coiled high on her head and a long, loose, batik-print summer dress rippling in the warm breeze. There was a glint in her dark brown eyes. “I wonder who wins the betting pool?”
Coming to a stop in front of her, Cath looked uneasily at Paul who looked as baffled as she felt. “Pool? There’s a pool?” she asked, her voice rising to a squeak.
“Just in the trades. Don’t worry—the cast doesn’t know a thing about it.”
“Right. Because theater people are so discreet. And this pool would be…” Paul’s jaw was tense.
Lifting an eyebrow, Andrea looked pointedly at their clasped hands. “Come on. Most of us have watched you two do your double act for close on a decade. We figured it was inevitable that you would take it a step or two further. It was just a matter of when. Hence the pool. It’s worth a cool five hundred to the winner.”
“What a windfall.” Paul’s voice was tight.
Andrea shot him a dry look. “Sorry I mentioned it. But you were bound to find out sooner or later.”
“True,” Cath said, cutting off whatever Paul was about to say. His jaw was still set and his face looked stormy. “I think whoever wins the pool needs to use it to buy the rest of the group a round of drinks. And include us. A pool party, if you will.”
“There’s an idea.” Andrea’s eyes gleamed with humor, appearing to appreciate Cath’s gambit. “I’ll be sure to let the winner know that there’s a condition set on the prize.”
“Wait,” Cath said, an unwilling smile spreading across her face. The implicit support of their friends eased the off-kilter feeling from before. “Do you mean that you’re the one who started the pool?”
Andrea tilted her head, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “There may be an envelope full of cash locked in a drawer in my shop,” she admitted.
Cath slid a look at Paul, relieved to see that the tension in his face had dissipated somewhat. “I would never have thought it of you, Andrea.” She worried Paul’s hand with her own, shaking it back and forth. “Come on, Paul. It is kind of funny. Remember: ‘You can't stir things apart.’”
“Arcadia,” he said, shooting her a tight smile. “And I already used Stoppard today. Twice in the same day is against the rules.”
“Right. I’m not sticking around for your reindeer games,” Andrea said. “I came into town to run errands, not watch you two play intellectual footsie. I’ll see you on Monday.” Winking, she walked past them down the sidewalk.
Paul’s tension and anger drained away almost completely when he saw how easily Cath took Andrea’s revelation about the betting on their relationship. He had been angry on her behalf. Her reserve and the value she placed on her personal privacy, had, he knew, had been at least a partial reason for her reticence earlier this morning. But it appeared that standing up to Susan and flinging caution to the wind had loosened her up somehow, given her a personal confidence he hadn’t seen before. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, appreciating her straight posture and serene expression.
He had been wrong. She wasn’t beautiful.
She was gorgeous.
He squeezed her hand and was rewarded by a saucy smile.
“Miss De Courcy, you’re looking very…”
“What?”
“Like the cat that got into the cream.”
“Meow.”
“You’re seriously okay with this silly betting situation?
It doesn’t seem like you.”
Cath sighed and looked at the sidewalk. “Normally, no. I wouldn’t be. If it was anyone else? It would seem cruel, like they were mocking us.”
Paul squeezed her hand. “But? What makes this so different?”
Raising her eyes back to his, she said, “But these are our friends. We’ve known them for years and they’re obviously rooting for us.” She thought for a moment, her mouth twisting with wry humor. “It also sheds a little light on Andrea, Karl, and Laurie’s not-so-veiled comments. It seems they may have been providing some gentle pressure. Trying to win some scratch.”
Paul suppressed a grin, remembering Karl’s pointed questions and his quelling reaction to Laurie when he tried to gather information about their relationship. Paul wondered if the two men were on different ends of the betting pool. It would be just like the couple to hedge their bets like that. “Yes. They’re a mercenary group, our friends.”
“As long as we get to share in the spoils. We’re the reason someone’s winning that money.”
“Speaking of winning…” Paul waggled his eyebrows as they reached the door of the pharmacy.
“Let’s get the jumbo pack.”
By the time they returned home, Cath was practically incandescent with anticipation, her pulse thrumming, a pleasantly relentless pressure already building between her thighs. Closing the door of his apartment behind them, Paul pulled her into the bedroom, tossing the pharmacy bag on the bedside table. Turning back to her, he pulled her shirt over her head in one smooth motion, her arms rising above her head to assist him.
Cath grabbed the hem of his shirt to pull it off of him, but was foiled by his hands on her cheeks, pulling her in for a deep, lush kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. Abandoning for the moment the skin-to-skin contact she craved, Cath reciprocated, sweeping her tongue along his and sucking his lower lip into her mouth, smiling at the look of surprised delight in his eyes.
“Wicked woman,” he murmured, kissing her again swiftly and allowing her to strip off his shirt.
“If you say so,” Cath murmured, her fingers playing across his chest, toying with the scattering of hair, trailing her fingernails across his nipples while his own hands were busy behind her back, unhooking her bra.
“Those fingers are very, very clever,” Paul whispered as he kissed her ear and popped open the button of her shorts, pulling the zipper down as she toed off her sneakers.
Cath pulled the straps of her bra off her shoulders and dropped it to the floor, attacking his shorts as he pushed hers over her hips. When he captured her lips in another kiss, her fingers slowed momentarily, then she slid her hands into his underwear, cupping the warm slopes of his buttocks in her hands and pulling him to her.
“Very, very clever hands,” he mumbled into her mouth, stripping off his shorts and kicking his sneakers into a corner. Looping one arm around her waist and one around her upper back, he pulled her to him. Cath thrilled to the feeling of his warm skin pressing and sliding against hers and she tangled her fingers in his hair, running her fingernails down the back of his neck. “That does it,” he grunted, lifting her and tossing her on the bed, standing and looking at her with a pleased expression on his face.
Laughing, she held out a hand. “So are you going to stand there looking smug, or are you going to come over here?”
“Yes,” he said, bending forward and running his hands under her calves, lifting and parting her legs and sliding toward her until her knees were hooked over his shoulders. Cath gasped as he dipped his head to press a long, warm kiss to her clit, then moaned as he began to move his tongue with insistent pressure. In her already keyed-up state, she found herself tight and ready to break apart, at the precipice of shattering. Two fingers stroking and curling inside her sent her over that edge, throbbing and groaning, her muscles flooding with relaxation and release.
Paul felt a feral smile slide across his face when Cath shuddered under his mouth. He continued to stroke his fingers inside her and sucked gently, earning an additional rippling of her internal muscles and one last small, helpless cry. Withdrawing his fingers, he slid his hands under her hips and pressed a lingering kiss to her clit. Slowly, he began to kiss up her body, starting with each inner thigh, then her belly. Spending some time exploring her navel with his tongue got a weak laugh and nails scraping deliciously across his scalp as she ran her fingers through his hair.
Humming happily, he explored the shallow curve of the underside of one breast, then the other, making his unhurried way to lavish attention on nipples, then clavicles, then the hollow of her throat. Reaching her face, he ran one fingertip across her lips. Her eyes cracked open, humor and intelligence radiating off her face in waves that made him breathless with delight.
“So that was…” she trailed off as his lips descended to hers, his palm a starfish on her belly.
“Mmmm?” he replied, nipping at her lower lip with his teeth.
“Just…terrible,” she said languidly, stretching her arms over her head and laughing throatily when Paul threw a leg over her body, straddling her and pretending to devour her neck. Her laughter rose when he took advantage of her upraised arms to rake his fingers down her sides, unleashing a cascade of shrieking giggles until she could capture his wrists in her strong hands.
“Unfair,” she accused, her eyes gleaming with challenge. “You’re not ticklish. I can’t retaliate.”
Paul grinned down at Cath, appreciating the picture of her luminous face framed by dark hair that fanned out on the pillow in messy waves.
“No,” he murmured, dipping his face to nuzzle, kiss, and bite the side of her neck. “I’m not. It doesn’t mean I don’t have my weaknesses.” His breath caught in his throat as she released his wrists and wrapped her fingers around his…main weakness. Her hand was soft as she stroked and explored and Paul felt his face grow slack and his eyes closed.
“Yeah. You found one,” he admitted as she extended her other arm to retrieve the pharmacy bag from the nightstand. “Let me do that,” he said as he realized she would need both hands to tear open the package. His hands shook as he tore open the cardboard box.
Extracting a condom from its wrapper, Paul relinquished it to Cath who rolled it carefully onto him. Blinking slowly as she looked from her hands to his face, a sly smile played at the corners of her mouth. “And what’s your blocking for this scene?”
Lust pulsed through him and he moved to the edge of the bed, standing and pulling her by one hand. “I think downstage left…” he said, turning her toward the mattress and clasping her hips from behind, gratified when she dropped her hands to rest on the bed, her hips tilting invitingly upward. “God, Cath,” he groaned as he fitted himself to her, sliding deep and beginning to thrust slowly, his hips slapping against her buttocks in an unhurried rhythm.
A delighted smile fluttered across Cath’s face as Paul thrust into her, the new angle eliciting delicious sensations in her. This had never been a position she had enjoyed before, but she was enjoying the hell out of it now. The vulnerability that made her nervous in the past now thrilled her. Closing her eyes, she gave over to the sensation of being emptied and filled as Paul withdrew and plunged into her, of the feel of his hands running smoothly over her butt and lower back.
When Paul’s tempo increased, Cath pressed her hands into the mattress in an effort to meet the building urgency of his thrusts, then gasped as his fingers slipped around her hip and found her clit, rolling it back and forth as he slowed his rhythm again, seeming to wait for her. Heat and urgency coiled again within her as he matched the pace of his thrusts to the cadence of his fingers.
Delirious tension built in her again and she cried out as she began to pulse with pleasure, laughing aloud with how lucky she felt. How amazing to experience the third shattering orgasm of the day (was it even noon?) with her best friend, the person she trusted most in the world. Paul’s fingers curled into her waist, his own release evident in the stuttering of his hips and the hoars
e shout that ripped from his throat.
Cath savored the final press of his hips to hers, the final sensation of being filled and stretched before Paul’s hands splayed on her back, his breath shuddering in his chest.
All too soon, he withdrew from her and she turned to collapse sideways on the bed, Paul following her shortly after, curling his body around hers, his arm sliding around her waist, his nose nuzzling her hair.
“So that was just…terrible,” he mumbled into her neck.
“You said it,” she murmured. “Perfectly awful.”
“We’re being very kind to one another,” he observed.
"One can always be kind to people about whom one cares nothing."
“Picture of Dorian Gray,” he said, nipping the nape of her neck and making her laugh again.
Chapter 17
Paul dozed, drifting to wakefulness with a feeling of lazy satisfaction. Cath was still snuggled up against him, the back of her body warming his front from neck to toes. Squeezing her waist gently, he lifted his head and kissed her temple, watching as her face slowly transitioned from the stillness of sleep to wakeful mobility. Inhaling deeply, she turned over in the circle of his arm, facing him and propping her cheek on her hands.
“I have a crick in my neck,” she murmured, shrugging up her shoulders.
“You should bring your special pillow down here,” he said, cupping her nape and kneading gently.
She looked at him with an expression he couldn’t identify. “What?” he asked. “Don’t you still travel with that thing?”
“No, I do,” she replied softly. “It’s just…it almost sounds like you’re asking me to move in.”
Paul thought about that for a moment, his fingers stilling on her neck. “If I was, would that be a huge problem?”
Cath paused, her eyes focused on a point over Paul’s shoulder. “No, not a problem, let alone a huge one.” Abruptly, she looked him in the eye, a hint of a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. “It’s not like we just met.”