TITLE: I'll Be Anybody
SPOILERS: All aired episodes; vague-ish casting spoilers for the back nine.
DISCLAIMER: See the Prologue.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the delay, folks. This was a really hard chapter to write. Not only did my life get in the way of... my life, I also had difficulty figuring out both plot and characterization. After many revisions, this is what I ended up with. Hope it's worth the wait!
(P.S. Anyone who can spot the "Buffy" reference gets a gold star. And a cookie!)
Scene Three: Private Screening
The moment they enter the room, all eyes turn to them.
He, looking so incredibly dangerous, the crowd's first instinct is to flee from the room, the town, the continent. His intense green eyes, almost glittering as they reflect the dark emerald of his shirt, scan the room slowly. There's a sharpness of wit there, and a sense of keen, cold resourcefulness, that nearly burns a hole into those who dare to meet his gaze. Beneath the black silk of his suit jacket, his crossed arms draw attention to his well-developed muscles, barely being contained by the fabric. The thick stripe of hair running down his otherwise shaved scalp suggests that he is not a man to be trifled with. Ever.
She, in a long black gown that hugs her curves at all the right places, exudes a sensuality that is overwhelming in its power. The lean muscles of her arms and legs - showcased by the thin straps of her dress, and the skirt that's slit from ankle to mid-thigh - indicates that her strength is not in her sexuality alone: one wrong move and you would find yourself on your back, gasping for air. An elegant upsweep of hair highlights her large, dark eyes, which are outlined in rich tones of charcoal grey and smoky purple. Those eyes flash with a fiery, boundless intelligence.
They are Raquel B. and Nolan Puckerton: triple threats, power couple, and CEOs of Directions, the second-largest production company in North America. At this after-party for the Oscars, they put the "A" in "A-list": affluent, audacious, aloof. Despite this reputation or, perhaps, becauseof it, everyone wants to meet them. To be them. To do them. But, they belong to each other. No one ever gets in their way.
They move through the space, greeting warmly those they know, and nodding coolly to those who only wish they were known. The sea of bodies parts before them wherever they go, giving the impression that the crowd is simply one, psychically-connected entity, perfectly in tune with its masters. Taking two flutes of Dom Perignon from the tray of a passing waiter, Nolan hands one to Raquel before they both engage George, Sophia, and Meryl in conversation. After a few minutes, Raquel feels the hairs on the back of her neck start to rise. Turning her head first to the right, and then to the left, she locks eyes with a tall, lean man, impeccably dressed in a dark grey suit and navy silk shirt that offsets the blue-black highlights in his curly dark hair. Immediately, disgust and revulsion course through her veins, and she tightens her grip on Nolan's hand. When he looks down at her, she gives a small nod of her head in the man's direction. The moment Nolan lays eyes on him, his face hardens and his eyes change to a dark, foreboding green. Waves of imminent danger roll off him, causing the conversation around him to falter. When their companions realize who has caught Nolan's and Raquel's attention, they spare each other a sideways glance and nod knowingly. Of course, they think to themselves.
The man is named Jay Groffman. He is the CEO of Rush, the third-largest production company in North America. To say that there is a friendly rivalry between him, and Raquel and Nolan would be a bold-faced lie. Simply put, they loathe each other. Jay believes that Nolan and Raquel are small-town, no-class hicks who have only reached the top because of Nolan's (rumoured) criminal ties and Raquel's (rumoured) prowess in bed. For their part, Nolan and Raquel think Jay is a weak, spoiled, and talentless boor whose success in the film industry is solely due to his mother's - world-renowned director Shelley Groffman - connections.
Jay's face is filled with derision and and barely-concealed anger as he slowly looks Nolan and Raquel up and down. The crowd watches with interest as Raquel's cheeks start to blaze and Nolan lets go of her hand to circle his arm around her waist. They can tell that Jay is thisclose to receiving one of Raquel's infamous verbal attacks and, to be honest, they are waiting in fervent anticipation. Unfortunately for them, it doesn't happen. Instead, Nolan tightens his arm around Raquel as she looks up into his eyes. They share a secret smile, and an undeniable frisson of... something passes between them. Nolan then removes his arm from around Raquel and idly trails his fingers along her inner arm, moving from elbow to wrist. Once again taking her hand, he nods to the group and excuses the two of them. As he leads Raquel to a small doorway on the other side of the room, he doesn't even glance in Jay's direction. Everyone knows that Nolan is the only one who can handle Raquel's intensity, so it is assumed that he is taking her out of the room in order to cool her down.
They are mistaken.
He is taking her out of the room in order to fire her up.
***
Raquel is seething as she follows Nolan through the doors and up the spiral staircase to their left. She knows that she shouldn't let a non-entity like Jay Groffman affect her like that, especially since he hadn't said a word. But she couldn't help it. Somehow, he always manages to under her skin with very little effort. At one time, during her early days in Hollywood, Raquel had found that to be alluring and exciting. It didn't take long, however, for Jay to show his true colours, and Raquel is forever grateful that she ended their romantic entanglement not long after it had begun.
Taking a deep breath, she exhales slowly and takes in her surroundings. She and Nolan are standing in glassed-walled mezzanine overlooking the ballroom floor. She realizes that no one is looking up at them because the glass is one-way: they can see out, but the people below can't see in. Clearly, it was designed to give guests seeking a quieter atmosphere some privacy without being too removed from the action. She surmises that it is being left unused this night for safety and security reasons.
Nolan walks to the centre of the space, past the empty booths and intimate tables for two, pausing briefly to remove his jacket and lay it on a chair. He stands so close to the glass wall, his breath leaves little patches of fog when he exhales. Striding over to him, Raquel hisses,
"Why did you take me out of the room? I was about to annihilate that little worm!"
"I know, baby. And, as much as I would have enjoyed seeing that, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. You know he was just trying to get you all riled up again. Besides", he continues in a low voice, moving behind her to wrap her body in his arms, "the only person who's allowed to get you all riled up is me."
Tightening his grip, he takes her earlobe into his mouth and sucks gently, before grazing it with his teeth.
Automatically, Raquel reaches back and locks her arms around his neck, arching into his body.
"Here? Now?", she breathes, nipples already hardening in anticipation.
"Why not?", Nolan replies, sliding his hands down her thighs.
"Because everyone who knows us is down there. They saw us leave. What if one of them comes looking for us? What if they find us?"
"So what if they do?", Nolan murmurs against her skin. "They might learn something."
"I - I don't think this is appropriate, Nolan. We have a reputation to protect. I don't know that we should do this." Despite her verbal protests, Raquel's body is ready and willing. She can feel the liquid collecting between her legs, and wonders for how much longer she can hold out.
"Babe", Nolan answers, "We're a couple of hot, good-lookin' Jews. We can do anything." Slipping his hand first through the slit in her dress, and then into the waistband of her thong, he gently cups her mound.
"Do you want me?", he asks, his voice thick and low with desire.
"Yes," Raquel sighs, squirming against him. "Oh god, yes."
"Then have me." With those words, Nolan tightens his hand around her vagina and plunges a finger deep within her.
Raquel's body responds immediately: her muscles clench around Nolan's finger as she rocks her hips back and forth, trying to drive him even deeper. As he begins to slid his finger in and out of her, Raquel turns her head towards him and brings his face down to hers, crushing his lips with her own. When their tongues meet, Nolan adds another finger to the first before pumping his hand to the rhythm of Raquel's shallow, staggered breaths. She comes quickly and fiercely, biting down on his lower lip in order to stifle her cries.
Removing his fingers, Nolan places his hands on Raquel's hips to stop her from turning around to face him. "No, babe. I want you to face front. I want you to watch them as I take you. I want you to watch them as I fuck you right in front of their faces, and they don't even know. I want you to see that we are - literally and figuratively - above them."
Before Raquel can protest, Nolan slides the straps of her dress off her shoulders, and pushes the silky material down her body, letting it pool at her feet. Now clad in only her black lace thong and three-inch stilettos, she doesn't resist as Nolan takes both her wrists in his hand and raises her arms above her head. Gently leaning her against the glass, he holds her wrists in place. The feel of her heated, swollen breasts pressed against the cool planes causes goosebumps to erupt all over her skin. When Nolan uses his other hand to tease and stroke her still-engorged clit, a low moan escapes from her throat. She steps back and arches her body, spreading her legs even wider for him. Just as the tension of her second orgasm is about to spill over, Nolan stops touching her.
"Hey!", she cries. "What are you doing? Why did you stop?"
"Shhh, baby, shh. Trust me. Wait." Quickly, he undoes his zipper and pulls out his hard, throbbing cock. Guiding it with his hand, he uses the tip to nudge her panties aside. He glides his erection along her wetness, shivering with pleasure as she matches his movement by rocking her hips back and forth along his length.
"Oh, Nolan," she breathes. "I want you. I need you. Inside me. Now."
Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Nolan pushes into her. When Raquel thinks that he is as deep inside her as he can get, he surprises her by going even further, stretching her like never before. She tightens around him, wanting the feeling to last, but Nolan has other ideas. In one swift move, he pulls out and then plunges back into her so quickly, her body barely registers his movement. Before she can catch up, he does it again. And again. And again.
Raquel's fingers slide and squeak against the glass as Nolan pounds into her, sweat-slicked breasts heaving against the diamond-hard surface. With every thrust of his hips, he lets out a deep, feral growl that nearly drives her over the edge. Letting go of her wrists, Nolan cups her breasts and buries his head in her neck, furiously grinding his body deep inside hers. As he thrusts, Raquel reaches around and digs her fingers into his taut behind, urging him to go faster. He obliges, and then takes her nipples between his fingers, working them relentlessly. Raquel's hot, salty juices run down her thighs as she watches the other guests mill about below her. Being penetrated from behind is like nothing she has ever experienced before: it's as though all of her nerve endings are being brushed backwards repeatedly, sending sharp bolts of electricity along her arms and legs, and through the top of her head. The feeling is only enhanced by the sheer, raw power she feels at doing something so sexually, dangerously explicit in a room full of her associates, friends and, notably, enemies. Overwhelmed, she wails in ecstasy and prays that Nolan never ever stops fucking her.
Just when she feels like she will spontaneously combust from the heat, the pleasure, the desire, Nolan gives one final, vigourous thrust, biting down on her shoulder as he comes. His liquid fire swirling inside her causes Raquel's orgasm to explode from her body, sending shock waves along the glass. For a split second, she is afraid that the rippling panes will catch the eye of the guests below. But no one ever looks up.
Pulling out of her, Nolan places a hot, wet kiss at the base of her neck, before tucking himself back into his pants. Her body still quivering, Raquel reaches down to pull up her dress, adjusting the straps with trembling fingers. Finally turning around to face Nolan, she places her lips against his in a slow, sensual, luxurious kiss.
Hand in hand, Nolan and Raquel walk back across the mezzanine, down the stairs, through the doors. The first person to catch her eye is Jay Groffman. He takes in her swollen lips, Nolan's rumpled shirt, and the sex-glazed look in both their eyes. The expression on his face flits from shock, to something that looks like arousal, and then finally, fury.
Yes, that's right, Jay, Raquel thinks to herself. With Nolan's trademark smirk upon her face, she slowly and deliberately mouths the words "Fuck. You." to Jay. Then she turns away and rejoins the party, her partner and lover at her side.
"Wow, babe," Puck breathes appreciatively. "I can't believe you just let me have sex with you here, practically in front of the entire opening reception at Nationals! I gotta say, I'm kinda glad we ran into that Vocal Adrenaline douche this afternoon and he got you all pissed off. What we just did was fucking epic in it's hotness. It totally needs to happen more often!"
"Really?", Rachel enquires, one eyebrow raised. "Are you suggesting that you would find it desirable if I wrote my ex-boyfriends into more of my sexual fantasies with you?"
"Uh. No. Um. Wait. Wha-?"
"Okay!", she chirps brightly, cutting him off. Turning and walking away from him, she murmurs, "Hmmm.... I wonder how I could write Finn in. Or, what about Finn and Jon? Ooooh, perhaps there could be some sort of oil involved...."
"Hey, Rach! Wait!" Puck dashes madly after her.
"That is so not what I meant!"
Scene.