Fast acting, p.14
Fast Acting, page 14
“It isn’t that.”
“What is it? Second thoughts?” Uncertainty creased the corners of his eyes.
“No!” Something sharp and bright flared in her chest. Something like panic and certainty all rolled up into one. “Not at all. It’s just…this has been so magical. And now we’re going back to mundane old reality.”
“Hey.” He pulled her body flush with his. “This is just the first magic act. There will be more.”
“You promise?”
“I’ll try, at least. If you will.”
Kathleen’s face relaxed into a little smile. “Am I the lady who gets sawed in half?”
Russell touched his lips to hers. “No. This is a joint production. No assistants. All magicians. Everybody gets a top hat and a rabbit.”
A little burst of a laugh escaped her. “Have I told you yet that you’re adorable?”
“That’s good, right?”
“It’s very good. You might even call it…” She made an elaborate flourish with one hand. “Magical.”
“More sass, huh?” But he couldn’t contain the grin that seemed to start from his toes, coiling up through his body and ending at his mouth.
“Oh, buckle up. I haven’t even gotten started.” Kathleen’s eyes sparked hazel fire.
“Excellent.” He tested the water. “Shower’s ready if you are.”
A wicked smile curled her lips and she leaned in for a quick kiss. “Get in. I’ll be right back.”
Warmth spread through his chest as he stepped under the spray and rubbed the soap between his hands. He was spreading the lather across his chest when Kathleen returned.
“Just in case,” she said, dropping a condom packet onto the ledge next to the soap.
“Forethought duly noted.” Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her, the slide of her breasts across his soapy chest making every nerve in his body stand to attention.
“Seems like forethought was the right call,” she said, her hand curling around his hardening length and stroking upward. Russell’s breath caught in his throat as the warm water drummed on his shoulders and cascaded around the focal point of his nervous system where her hand caressed him.
“Seems like.” His voice was tight.
Kathleen’s gaze slid around the shower stall, her expression assessing. “How do you feel about…” She shifted in his arms, releasing her grip on him and turning around so her back was to him, her body slippery with soapy water. “Doing things this way?”
His pulse speeded up. “The question is, how do you feel about it?”
Cocking her chin sideways, she slid him a saucy glance. “It’s a nice, roomy shower. I feel fine about it.”
“I thought you had problems with orgasms standing up.”
“I think you’ll catch me. Besides…” she bent forward and placed her hands on the shower wall, her bottom tilting up toward him. “I have this nice sturdy surface to lean against.”
The hot water now seemed positively cool compared to the fiery arousal zinging through him. Russell grabbed the condom packet and ripped it open, sheathing himself and pushing into her with a low, satisfied moan. Kathleen’s back arched, allowing him deeper and he began to move, hands gripping her hips, keeping the motion slow and steady even as pleasure crashed over him, urging him to go faster, harder.
One of Kathleen’s hands came off the wall and reached between her legs. “Safety first,” he said. “Both hands on the wall. I’ve got you.”
He felt, rather than heard, her low chuckle as she splayed her palm on the glass again and he reached around her hip to find her clit, rubbing in time to his thrusts. Her hoarse gasp told him he had the right touch, the right rhythm. She squeezed around him and broke apart with a small cry and he hooked his other hand under her belly, afraid her knees might give out. She trembled, but remained standing and Russell resumed his movement, pumping into her until he also cried out and shook with the force of his pleasure.
“I’m suffocating!” Kathleen laughed and batted at the towel Russell was using to pat her face dry.
“Actresses. So dramatic.” Russell’s dimple deepened as he passed the towel across her breasts and belly, his eyes avid.
“Men. So fixated on specific parts of anatomy,” Kathleen said, pulling the towel out of his hands and wrapping it around her torso, tucking in the end to create a terrycloth sarong.
“We’re discerning.” His index finger traced the edge of the towel, loosening it.
Kathleen tried to make her face prim as she pressed the towel edge to her chest, but knew she was fighting a losing battle. “Sure,” she said, trying to keep her mouth from tugging up.
“Well, some of us are.”
Nearly laughing out loud, Kathleen pressed her body to his, wrapping her hand around the back of his head, his closely-trimmed hair soft against her fingertips. “Oh, really?”
“I’m serious,” he said, his eyes glimmering with humor.
“Fine.” She moved away from him to let the towel fall and then leaned into his body, the warmth that he radiated suffusing her chest and belly and…unbelievably…still having the power to warm her further down.
His mouth found hers, teasing tenderly, knowingly. They had learned so much of each other. And there was so much more to learn. Kathleen’s body hummed with the promise of it, her nerves zinging with what the future could bring, what they could become.
Russell broke the kiss, leaning back, his eyes lazily scanning her face. “I had no idea anything like this could happen to me.”
Kathleen assessed his face, so satisfied, so pleased, his brown eyes gleaming with pleasure. “What do you mean?”
His mouth quirked to the side. “Do you really want to know?”
Her pulse picked up, hammering hard, her face heating. “Yeah.”
“This. The speed of it.”
“Is the speed good or bad?”
“There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.”
An involuntary laugh huffed from Kathleen and she tightened her arms around his neck, her eyes widening as her brain caught up with the conversation. “You just quoted Hamlet.”
His eyes slid sideways. “I’m not a complete illiterate.”
“But…you said Colin had to drag you to the Folger. That you weren’t a Shakespeare guy.”
“At first. I’m learning.”
A bubble of pure joy was trapped in Kathleen’s chest. It was almost painful. “And now you’re quoting the Bard.”
Russell traced her cheekbone with a gentle thumb. “I may have been envious of a friend of mine. I might have studied up. I might have been even luckier than he was.”
“You are the damndest thing, you know that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Just…so controlled and yet so giving. So together and also so open to new experiences.”
“New experiences with you are some of my favorite things right now.”
Kathleen eyed him sideways. “You just keep up that sweet talking and we’ll do just fine.”
They dressed and packed quietly, exchanging sly smiles and lingering touches as they moved past each other. Russell went into the bathroom to retrieve his toiletries and noticed Kathleen was biting her lips together as if to keep from laughing when he returned to the bedroom.
“What are you up to?”
She shook her head. “Not a thing.”
He narrowed his eyes and gave her his best professorial I-see-you-texting-under-the-table-during-my-lecture look. Nothing. Her face was the picture of innocence.
Well, she was an actress. He jammed his Dopp kit into his bag and zipped it, picking up the phone to get a porter. He’d already proven more than once that he could handle that monster suitcase of hers.
This time he’d leave the job to the professionals.
It seemed to take no time at all to get them checked out, load the luggage in Kathleen’s little hatchback, and watch Kathleen start the car as he buckled his seat belt. A strange apprehension threaded through him as the car moved out onto the road: as if despite the plans they had made they were leaving their nascent relationship behind them at the hotel.
“You okay over there?” Kathleen’s eyes were on the road, but a little crease had appeared between her brows, worry marking her face.
“Fine. Just…”
“The real world?”
He turned and looked at her full on. “How did you guess?”
The corner of her mouth quirked up as she checked over her shoulder for an opening and merged onto the highway. “I guess I’m thinking about the same thing. What we had was so…it’s corny to say it, but—well, hell. You said it, so I’m going to also. It was magical.”
“No, that’s it exactly. But just because not everything is going to be a vacation idyll doesn’t mean it can’t be great.”
“True.”
He rested his hand on her knee and squeezed. “And I think we have great possibilities anyway.”
“Have you thought about our schedules? Remember what I said about theater happening at night?”
“Well, being a professor isn’t exactly nine to five. I do evening classes sometimes and a lot of my days are flexible. We’ll figure it out.”
Some of the tension left her face and she leaned back against the seat, eyes still on the road. He let her concentrate on driving for a few minutes before asking, “So when can I see you again?”
“I have rehearsal tomorrow from ten to three.”
“So three fifteen?”
She laughed outright at that. “Well, there goes my fear that you were really having hidden second thoughts.”
He rubbed his hand along her leg. “Not even a little. Tell me about the new play.”
She told him about the play, her role, and some of the other actors in the cast she already knew. She asked him about his class and he somehow managed to make her laugh at his description of the tedium of grading exams. Before he knew it, he was giving her directions to his condo and they pulled up in front of the building. Kathleen double-parked and got out with him.
“Very nice,” she said, looking up the front of the brick building.
“I’d love to ask you in, but it would probably take a full hour to find a parking spot in my neighborhood.”
“I can visit some other time. Take Metro.”
“And spend the night?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Her hazel eyes lit with mischief and Russell felt the now-familiar speeding of his pulse.
“Excellent. Now I really have something to look forward to.” He liked the idea of Kathleen in his condo, the mellow light from the south-facing windows picking up all the red highlights in her hair.
She kissed him and pulled away to get back in her car, a little regretful moue pursing her lips, but her eyes still glittered with mischief. Her fingers fluttered goodbye as she pulled away and Russell shouldered his suitcase strap, picking up his guitar case and his garment bag. He got his mail and walked up to his condo, unlocking the door and setting the guitar down with a sigh in the hallway. His place suddenly seemed very empty.
“Just unpack and get settled back in,” he grumbled into the silent air.
Slinging his suitcase onto his bed in the spacious master suite, he couldn’t help but hum with happiness at the thought of seeing Kathleen again tomorrow. Preoccupied with sorting through ideas of what they might do, he almost missed the dark scrap of fabric that fluttered out of a suit jacket as he shook it out. Bending over, he saw it was a bit of lace. A slow grin spread over his face as he picked it up.
It was her navy thong.
“You had a good time?” Wendy’s voice floated out from the phone Kathleen had placed on her bedside table and set on speaker to chat with her friend as she unpacked.
“Very. Staying an extra day was definitely the right call, even if I’m going to have to work late tonight to get ready for rehearsal tomorrow. I had planned on re-reading the script this afternoon, but that sure didn’t happen.”
“I’m sure your time was far better spent,” Wendy said, her voice dry.
Kathleen heard Kent in the background. “What does himself have to say?”
Wendy laughed. “He says to leave you alone and stop teasing.”
“As if your teasing could ever be hurtful.” Wendy was the sweetest person Kathleen had ever met, nurturing and warm, taking care of both her and Alicia when they had shared a dressing room.
Kathleen’s phone chimed with an incoming text and she rounded the bed to pick up her phone. Looking at the screen, she laughed.
“What’s going on over there? Did he follow you home or something?”
“No, kind of the opposite. I…left him a present in his suitcase. He just texted me to let me know he got it.” The message was simply a selfie: Russell’s fingers twined with obvious possession around the navy blue lace held up next to his face. Another message followed.
I’m keeping these forever.
Kathleen pressed her lips together and typed. Good.
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Chapter 1 of Acting Up
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* * *
Cath De Courcy picked up her pen, opened her notebook to a blank page, and wrote in her tidiest handwriting:
Bitch.
Returning her attention to the audition, she tapped her pen against her upper lip and watched Susan Vernon act. She knew why Paul leaned on the table beside her, clear blue eyes intent on the performance, hair disheveled from raking his fingers through it. Cath couldn’t stand the woman, but even she had to admit the actress’s skill. Susan’s responses to the assistant stage manager’s cues had a fragile intensity even though Frederica’s delivery was stammering and nervous. Poor Freddie had been goggle-eyed and awkward from the moment Susan walked in. Instead of being gracious and soothing, Susan had ignored the other woman’s obvious distress, only making it worse.
Susan Vernon had an artist’s appreciation for the effect she had on people and no desire to lessen anyone’s discomfort.
Cath looked down at her notebook again. Underlined the single word. Darkened the dot over the i.
Susan spoke her final line, staying in character for a beat before she turned to beam at Paul, the rusty folding chair she sat in giving a faint groan as she moved. Cath flipped her notebook shut and rested her palm on it, attempting to smile back when Susan turned a slightly lower-wattage expression her way.
“Thank you, Susan. We’ll be in touch.” Paul threaded restless fingers through his hair again, further disordering it. As usual, he needed a haircut. Just now he looked like a men’s cologne ad crossed with an absent-minded professor.
Susan extended a hand for him to shake. “No, thank you for the opportunity, Paul.” She continued to hold his hand as she turned to Cath. “It was great seeing you both again. Who would guess we all would end up in the same room again after so many years?”
Cath looked at the actress, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Susan’s smile was innocence incarnate. “Thank you, Susan.” Cath’s voice sounded strangled, even to herself, but Susan just picked up her large shoulder bag and sashayed out of the room, skirt swirling around her thighs. “Freddie, do you think you could give us a moment?” she asked the assistant stage manager.
“Sure—should I get some coffee for you and Paul?” Freddie’s equilibrium—not to mention her voice—was restored as if by magic with Susan out of the room. Freddie gathered up her script as Cath nodded and thanked her.
Cath and Paul waited until the door closed behind Freddie and Paul turned, grinning. It wasn't fair, him looking like that—those blue eyes and high cheekbones framed by that messy hair. Adonis escaped from the Muppet Show.
She never could resist him—professionally, she hardly ever had to, their tastes were so similar—but when it came to casting Susan Vernon? Cath gritted her teeth and readied herself for battle.
Surveying her set expression, Paul leaned forward and said in a cajoling tone, “Come on, she’s perfect.”
“Paul, she’s Susan fucking Vernon.”
“Exactly.”
Cath closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It isn’t an exaggeration to say the woman is a menace.”
“She’s a star.” Paul drummed his fingers on the table in front of them, and Cath knew he was five seconds from pacing the room, nervous energy flowing off of him in palpable waves.
“If she’s such a huge star, why would she want to do regional theater in Connecticut? She barely acknowledges the existence of Brooklyn.” Cath’s eyes flew open and she stared at Paul, willing him to see things her way.
“Why wouldn’t she want to do it? It’s a great part. In a fantastic new play.”
“It’s Connecticut.”
“You just never liked her.” Paul’s voice rumbled low and sympathetic, coaxing.
“No. No, I don’t. I didn’t. You didn’t know her like I did. You never had to work in a production with her before.” Cath was getting flustered, her cheeks heating. “As the man said, ‘Certain women should be struck regularly, like gongs.’”
“Private Lives,” Paul replied, his gaze steady. “Don't try to distract me with Noel Coward.”
“But…she’s so awful.” Cath struggled for the words that could describe what should be obvious.
“Cath.” Paul ducked his head in an apparent attempt to hold her eyes, which darted around the windowless, dingy room, looking anywhere but at him. “College is history. You’ve got to let it go.”
#
That did it. Paul stiffened as Cath’s attention focused on him, her gaze like a smoky-green laser, pinning him to his chair.
