“You like sharp-dressed men.”
I laugh and hold the piece of fruit to her. She passes me a bit of cheese. In my errands, I also pick up better food for her and Molly. Better than day-old bread and burnt coffee.
“What would you like to do?” I ask, and beautiful blue eyes meet mine. “Would you want to continue working here?”
She thinks about it. “Only if Gavin paid me a real wage. I’m not sure he’d do it.”
Roland calls from the stage, and she swings her legs off the box. I duck down for another quick kiss. Her hands catch my cheeks, and she inhales deeply. I do the same, savoring her delicate flowery scent. She trots to the front, and I follow slowly, leaving our dreams with the rest of the old set pieces.
I watch from where I stand beside a concrete pillar, rubbing the pain in my chest at her departure. I know the pressure she’s under. We’ve only known each other a short time, but still…
Roland plays the introductory chords, and her beautiful voice fills the space. I want her to be happy. I want to make her happy. I want to save her.
Later that night, high above the theater, I’m more forceful. She races into my arms, and I hold her close, nuzzling her hair and kissing her mouth. I want to taste her. I want to show her how I feel, convince her I’m serious. I’m not just another asshole stagehand, hanging around for her body.
“Don’t smudge my make up,” she whispers. Still, she shudders as my lips trace along her neck and hairline. I know she feels this bond between us.
Her hands smooth the backs of mine as I help her take the seat, fasten the harness. She swings out over the audience, but our eyes remain locked as the words to the song flow from her lips.
You’re in my arms, and it feels so right;
But it’s simply an illusion…
Lara
All around us is darkness and night, but I’ve found a box of matches, and one by one, I strike them, watching the happy flames dancing, allowing the tiny bits of warmth to give me something I’ve never dared have…
Hope.
Still lurking in the back of my mind are the dark questions. Can I trust Mark? Yes, I know I can. What about Gavin? How long will he keep his promise to me? How long can Roland protect me?
What about Molly? Will my promise cover her?
Not yet…
I strike another match and pretend these fears aren’t sneaking closer.
I wear skirts to rehearsals hoping for a chance to sneak away with Mark, to meet him in the dark wings. In those lucky times, we’re feverish with need. I cover his mouth with mine, and we kiss as the flames consume us.
“This is dangerous,” he says against my heated skin.
“We have time,” I whisper, my panties on the floor in my dressing room.
He groans as I take his hand, guiding it under my skirt, and I moan as long fingers stroke me, exploring the depths of my desire for him.
He drops to one knee, shoving my skirt away, and my stomach heats, twisting with anticipation as large hands lift me, and spread my thighs apart.
“Oh, God!” I gasp as his tongue slowly circles my clit.
Ever since that first night, all we want is more. It’s torture being kept apart. At the same time, it’s a potent aphrodisiac.
His mouth touches the crease of my leg, his beard scuffs my sensitive skin, and my body trembles.
“Quiet,” he says before touching me again with his tongue.
My eyes squeeze shut as he focuses on that little bud, pulling and tasting, sucking and flickering. My hand threads in his soft hair, and I bite my lip until I taste blood to keep from screaming as the orgasm rips through me. My thighs jerk and my stomach shudders, aching for more.
Heavy velvet surrounds us. The lights of the stage seem far away, and the set crew has disbanded. No one can see us stealing this moment.
He’s up, and I hear the clink of his belt, the rip of foil. My insides tighten in anticipation, and I reach for him, needing his kiss, his skin against mine. Large hands are on my ass, and I’m off my feet. The cinder-block wall scrapes my back, but I pull my shirt higher. I pull his shirt higher so I can feel his chest on mine.
My legs are around his waist, he positions the tip then …
“Mark!” I gasp as I’m filled.
Instinct takes over, and I ride him hard. His legs bend and he thrusts deeper, all the way inside me, and my moans are consumed in his kiss. Our mouths seal, hiding the noises of hunger, satisfaction, and need.
These are kisses I’ve only read about. Feelings I only dreamed I’d experience. I’m a junkie getting high off the strongest drug I’ve ever known. He groans and pumps, driving deeper and pushing me higher. His length strokes my inner walls until I’m flying again, pleasure snaking up my legs like vines.
He slaps my ass, and a cascade of glittering ecstasy showers through my core. I whimper, and my inner walls pulse and tingle.
“That’s it,” he groans, slapping my ass again, making my insides flex.
With a low noise, I feel him break, pulsing and holding deep, filling me so completely I can feel his muscles tremor.
A strong arm is around my waist, and our bodies are flush and slippery. His forehead is against my neck and shoulder, damp with sweat, and I place my hand on his cheek, closing my eyes to treasure this moment.
It’s perfect…
Until a small voice cuts through the dim space.
“I knew it!” The sound echoes off the back walls.
We both jump, and I’m on my feet, shoving my skirt down while Mark hastily removes the condom and fastens his jeans.
Molly stands at the edge of the stage with Roland, who looks equally annoyed. I take a hesitant step forward, away from the warmth of Mark, toward the two of them.
“Lara, we need to talk,” Roland says. “Mark, you’d better take off.”
Mark steps toward me, and catches my hand. I look up and over my shoulder, my chest squeezes when our eyes meet.
“We can talk tonight,” he says, lifting my fingers to his lips.
I reach for Molly, but she jerks away.
“Don’t touch me,” she says. “Traitor.”
I don’t respond. I’ve kept her in the dark so long, if she reacts this way, I’m as much to blame.
“Come on,” I say, leading her through the door toward our dressing room. “That wasn’t what you think.”
She follows me, Roland with her. “I’m sorry… You weren’t just fucking Mark? Your body wasn’t completely entwined with his just now?”
“Language.” My voice is low. My inner thighs are scuffed, and my lips still throb from Mark’s kisses. I can still feel his face against my inner thighs, and joy like a fountain bubbles inside me. “I didn’t think you cared about Mark anymore.”
“And I thought you were trying to like Freddie.”
“Let’s not talk about it.”
We reach the room, and I go inside. Roland follows us and closes the door.
“You never want to talk about it,” Molly continues. “Except to lie about it.”
“Molly, hush,” Roland orders in a low voice. “I overheard Gavin talking to Darby. Things are changing, and not for the better.”