The room was dark except for the dim yellow glow of a single table lamp. Soft strains of Agnus Dei from Fauré's Requiem floated in the air and carried the soul of the chestnut-haired girl in their midst. Her busy mind, however, remained grounded and unable to free itself from several heavy worries.
She wasn't ready, but she had to be. It was too late to back out now; there was too much at stake. If she could view this as part of a mere business endeavor, perhaps performing the act would be easier.
And really, she mused sadly, what she was doing wasn't much more than the basest form of commerce – prostitution. She was selling herself and money played an integral role in the deal. The better she did her job, the higher the likelihood of reward.
That line of thought made her heart ache, so she tried to subtract the dollar component from the equation. Focusing on the overarching reason softened the impact to her morality and sense of self-worth. She believed in the reason. She believed in love. And there was absolutely no questioning her love for…
"Bella?"
There was a tap on the door.
"Come in." Bella opened her eyes and sat up from her prone position on the couch.
A short, petite figure entered the dressing room, and Bella blinked in the low light.
"Alice?"
The director fluidly sat in the armchair while removing a light blue messenger bag.
"What are you doing here in the dark?"
Bella rubbed her hands over her face. "Just trying to get into Bree's mind. It's a big day for her."
"And for you," Alice gently pointed out.
Hoping she looked more confident than she felt, Bella lifted a corner of her mouth into a small grin. "This movie's had all sorts of firsts for me."
"If I hadn't known, I'd have sworn this was old hat to you," Alice avowed. "You're doing fine."
Wordlessly, Bella nodded a thank you.
"I don't want to insult your professionalism by implying that you aren't prepared for this, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to have one of my highly inspirational and life-altering chats beforehand." Alice reached into her messenger bag and pulled out a canvas shopping tote. "Have you eaten yet?"
Bella eyed the bag curiously. "I had something before I left the house."
"Have a snack." At Bella's look of indecision, Alice snickered. "One little thing won't cause your stomach to stick out."
A paper bag was tossed at Bella. Upon opening it, she chose a small whole wheat roll from the assortment of breads and pastries.
"Another thing. I know you're not legal yet, but I won't tell if you don't," Alice whispered conspiratorially as she pulled a large flask and two shot glasses out of the tote.
Bella reddened. "Uh, my agent already provided me with that particular, uh, beverage."
Alice's eyes lit up and she chuckled heartily. "I should have known you'd be in good hands with Ms. Platt. Have you fueled up yet?"
"Well, I wasn't…I mean…I wanted to try-"
"You don't get bonus points for doing it sober, Bella, and if things between you and Cullen haven't improved since Wednesday, you both will need all the help you can get."
Bella wasn't sure if she should be aghast, insulted, embarrassed, or all three. "I refuse to get drunk just so I can do this scene!" Apparently, she had settled on being indignant.
"Oh, come on, Bella. You know that's not what I meant." Alice filled a glass with clear liquid from her flask. "Do you want some of my tequila, or would you prefer what you brought?"
"Uh, sure, I guess I'll have whatever you've got."
Alice poured alcohol into the other shot glass. "This is potent stuff – 1800 Select Silver – so it won't take much to loosen you up." She picked up the glass and knocked back the 100 proof tequila in one smooth movement.
Bella stared at her own glass. "Aren't you supposed to have salt and lime with it?" she asked hesitantly.
"Nah," Alice scoffed. "Good tequila doesn't need that sort of thing. Come on now, bottoms up."
With a dubious lift of one eyebrow, Bella brought the glass to her lips and tipped it. The liquid burned down her throat, but Bella managed to keep her coughing to a minimum.
"Good girl. Listen, there's no way you can do this wrong except try too hard. Just be yourself. Trust me, every crew member on that set today has seen it all. I witnessed my fair share of love scene triumphs and disasters. Let me think…" Alice looked toward the ceiling as she reviewed her memories.
"First off, don't worry about arousal for either of you. We'll be doing so many takes with different blocking and different lenses that it's silly to think you're both going to be excited the whole time – just as it would probably be unnatural if you didn't get aroused some of the time. Male actors have told me it's almost a no-win situation for them because, well, their arousal is obvious. They don't want women to think they're pervs if they do get excited, but on the other hand, they're worried what women will think if they don't. I've been told that sensitivity is greatly decreased by the sock they wear, but erections still happen. And yes, I've seen both men and women actually orgasm during a scene. It doesn't often happen, but if it does, you move on like the professional you are. The bottom line is: try not to worry about it.
"However, if you feel uncomfortable at any point for any reason, please, please, speak up. Both you and Cullen denied having any limits, but if this changes, I need to know right away. We'll try to keep you covered up as much as we can, of course, but I've found that some actors prefer the ease of staying unclothed over constant dressing and disrobing. That reminds me to double check – you don't have a clause; you're still okay with full nudity, right?" Alice chuckled. "Well, almost full nudity," she amended.
Bella carefully arranged her face into a neutral expression when she nodded. True, she would be wearing a 'patch' – an adhesive bandage that would be placed over her genital area – but it covered only about three square inches. While she had no shame of her body and was okay with being nude, she couldn't quell her modest nature entirely. Walking on a set without clothes would take some getting used to, and Bella doubted she'd ever be entirely comfortable with it. At least the number who would see all of her in that manner would be limited to less than two dozen. She was very glad the majority of today's film, especially the more graphic shots, would end up on the cutting room floor.
With an encouraging smile, Alice refilled the shot glasses. "One more and then we can ride over to Stage 16 together. Do you have any questions?"
"I'm good for now." Bella held her glass in the air. "Thanks, Alice. I really appreciate you making time to do this."
"You're welcome." Alice clinked her glass against Bella's. "Now let's drink to great sex!"
-o-o-o-o- OSC –o-o-o-o-
The set seemed so quiet with only the reduced crew present. Bella was having second thoughts about refusing Angela's offer. Scene preparations still were underway, and while the two shots of tequila had taken her edge off, they couldn't fully overcome the anxiety and anticipation that kept building the longer she waited. Finally, she hopped up from her chair. Something had to be done.
At the moment, there was only one other person on set who was unengaged, and Bella walked straight to him.
Edward glanced up from his script in surprise when Bella sat down next to him, but he quickly regained his usual air of impassivity.
"Good morning, Edward," she greeted politely.
He nodded in response but kept his eyes fixed on the sides.
Bella blew out a puff of air. "So you're going to be like this forever, huh? That attitude should make today so much easier," she muttered sarcastically.
Edward's nose had wrinkled when Bella spoke, and he leaned in closer to her. Wearing an expression of confusion and concern, he took a deep sniff.
"Have you…have you been drinking?" he gasped.
"What are you getting so worked up for? Now what's wrong with you?"
His voice lowered to almost a whisper. "Are you…how much have you had?"
It was Bella's turn to be confused. When she stared into Edward's wide green eyes, she thought she could see fear.
"Calm down. I had two shots of tequila with Alice before we came over to - you know - loosen up a bit. Obviously, I'm a little nervous about doing this for the first time."
The fear spread from his eyes, and now his whole face was frozen with a look of horror. "What…do you mean? You've never…before?" He could barely get the words out.
Bella's head was spinning from Edward's newest unexpected behavior. Oddly, Bella felt the urge to comfort him, but she was also embarrassed by her inexperience. There was no way she would admit she was a virgin to Edward Cullen, who probably needed a poster bed to fit in all of his notches.
"It's my first time doing a sex scene, Edward," she replied in the most haughty voice she could muster. "Obviously."
"Oh. Of course." His face relaxed significantly, and he shifted his gaze to the floor. "But you only had two shots, right? You're not…impaired?"
"No! Not at all." Bella was sorely tempted to joke about her needing to be drunk to have sex with him – even the simulated kind – but she had a feeling that wouldn't go over well. Instead, she asked, "Why did you get so upset just now?"
As she expected, Edward didn't give her a real answer. His entire body tensed up, and he rose to his feet.
"I had…it was nothing," he muttered. "I need to get ready." He moved off toward the set.
Bella looked thoughtfully after him. Their interaction had been short, but it felt as if she just was handed clues to a puzzle. She would file this new information into her expanding bank of knowledge about Edward. At least he had one thing correct. It was time to get ready.
Bree's mind was so familiar by now that it did not take her long to slip into character. Bella placed the upcoming scene in the movie's timeline. Bree had found out about Sam's problems, she presented her offer to Riley, he accepted it after she had given him a 'preview' of her services, and tonight was the first night she would visit him in his penthouse. Tonight was the first time she would give herself to him in whatever manner he wished.
Bella grabbed her sides packet for a last look at the preceding scene's synopsis. Bree had just discovered one of her younger sisters was distributing drugs for a dealer, but there hadn't been time to confront her. Devastated by the news but obligated to the night's appointment, Bree took the 'L' to Riley's penthouse where she was escorted to wait in a small lobby outside his door. Riley wasn't home yet.
The bubble descended around Bella as Bree took over her thoughts. She still responded to questions and listened to Alice's directions, but those actions only registered in her periphery. Bella knew that Alice likely would let them run through the scene once without interference unless a train wreck occurred. Bree, however, was nervously waiting for the ding of the elevator and wondering what the night would hold for her.
-o-o-o-o- OSC –o-o-o-o-
It wasn't until footsteps sounded on tile that Bree realized the elevator doors had opened. She stood quickly, yet gracefully.
"Mr. Biers, good eve-"
"Dammit, I want every one of your people on this, Jenks! I don't care if it's 8 p.m. or three in the god-damned morning!" With one hand to his ear, Riley walked to the door, punched a code, and then turned a key.
Bree wasn't sure if she was supposed to follow him in, but he walked out of sight and left the door open. She entered and carefully closed the door behind her.
When Bree turned around, she gasped at the penthouse's breathtaking interior. It was a study in contrasts – dark brown, almost black wood floors with dark tables against white walls, chairs, appliances, and marble countertops. Occasional splashes of color provided energy and a hint of unpredictability.
Scanning the view before her, Bree could not see Riley, but she could hear his frustrated growl and the clinking of glass. "The police haven't arrested him yet? Why the hell not? Get them what they need before the bastard figures it out and takes off with my money! When I wake up tomorrow, this situation better be under control. Get. It. Done."
Riley reemerged from a small alcove with a lowball glass containing a double shot of amber liquid – Bree guessed it was scotch. He moved through the open floor plan to an informal seating area arranged to face a large, wall-mounted television screen. Tossing his phone on dark coffee table, he sat heavily on the plush sofa and raised the glass to his lips.
Bree slowly walked to the sofa and sat on the end opposite him. She patiently regarded him as he made short work of his drink.
"Ms. Tanner….Bree, tonight isn't the best of nights for this." Riley dragged a weary hand through this unruly hair and leaned his head back against the cushion. "It would be best to do this next time you come."
Her teeth automatically grabbed at her lower lip. Relief flooded through her at the thought of a delay in the start of her four-month agreement, but she worried he might renege on his word if she failed to keep him pleased.
"Would you like a massage before I go?" she offered in a low, unassuming voice.
Riley closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with one hand. He didn't speak, and Bree supposed she had been dismissed. She stood to leave, but a heavy sigh halted her.
"Fine."
Grateful for the opportunity, she moved to a location behind his seat on the couch. Riley lay slumped in a terrible position for a massage, but she didn't want to irk him by requesting he move right away. She could broach the subject once he relaxed a little.
Observing how his head bent back at an angle, Bree decided to begin on the shoulders. As she slid both hands over them, his body stiffened and muscles tightened.
"It's okay. Try to relax," she murmured.
Bree gently squeezed her hands in a kneading motion. She continued along the top of his shoulders and increased pressure with each pass. Gradually, the bunched muscles loosened. His breathing deepened, and hers unconsciously fell into its rhythm.
"Do you feel like sitting up?" Bree asked softly.
Riley complied without a word, and she now had access to his upper back. Placing one hand over the other, Bree circled the pads of her fingers over the area.
Time seemed to slow as Bree concentrated on her task. The ticking of a clock was the only sound in the penthouse, and her world shrank to include only small hands and broad, muscled shoulders that, even in their most relaxed state, held the promise of strength.
That sphere of cognizance expanded as she moved up his body. Positioning herself to his right, she folded a hand over his neck; her thumb on one side and fingers on the other. She lightly grasped his skin and then closed her hand while drawing it off the neck. Her other hand mirrored this action, and she continued the alternating pattern.
However, Bree couldn't contain her hands to Riley's neck for long; fingers seemed to act of their own accord as they dragged upwards into the tempting mess of bronze hair. Resuming her stance directly behind him, she began to massage his scalp with slow, caressing strokes. His head dipped slightly forward, and, mesmerized, Bree watched as its unruly strands danced through her fingers like licks of fire.
A low groan broke the silence, and she could feel the resulting vibrations through her hands. She nearly faltered in her ministrations, but thankfully, her hands recovered quickly and resumed their steady tempo. Contrariwise, her mind raced as she tried to process the fluttering now present in her abdomen. She realized that Riley now would be more receptive to the fulfillment of her original obligation, and this thought reanimated her anxiety and humiliation. Yet worse still, Bree couldn't deny that leading those uneasy feelings was the inappropriate and very surprising burn of desire.
Summoning all her nerve and determination, she let her fingers trail down his neck and slide off his shoulders. Her stride was deliberate and sultry as she rounded the sofa to stand in front of him. One bare knee bent and came to rest on the cushion beside his thigh. Intense emerald eyes followed the satiny amethyst skater skirt as it bunched and then settled mid-thigh when she straddled his legs.
Bree rested her hands back on the top of his shoulders. "Your chest is next." One hand cupped the side of his neck and then fingered his loosened tie. "Can I take this off?"
A pause. "Yes."
She made quick work of the silk material and then unfastened the top button of his shirt. Her gaze captured his and held it as she continued down his shirt to open the rest. Riley didn't resist as she slipped the refined broadcloth cotton over his shoulders.
Bree's fingers trembled ever so slightly as she pressed them into the firm muscles. His skin was warm, smooth, and taut as she kneaded it under her hands. With even, deft movements, she continued her bodywork over the turns of his shoulders and to his upper arms.
The variable fluttering in her middle had increased in frequency until it became a constant ache, and Bree found it difficult to keep still in her position atop his legs. She couldn't help but relish the way his toned body felt under her touch, and it was much more than a sense of obligation that eventually compelled her to place lips on his chest.
With her hands now by her head, she worked her way across his upper body – alternating between her fingers and her mouth. The rising and falling of Riley's chest quickened, and his jaw visibly clenched.
As Bree peppered him with warm wet kisses, her nose skimmed over his skin and took in the uniquely rich scent. Once again, her senses demanded to be satisfied, and she mindlessly obeyed her body's command to push her tongue forward and taste his intoxicating flavor. He was both sweet and spicy, like a vintage port wine, and Bree could not get enough. Her mouth explored and searched for a more potent source of her craving, and she lingered upon feeling the pulse of his neck on her tongue. The increased heat intensified the sensation in her mouth, and she lightly sucked at his skin to take in as much as she could.
Another groan began to sound, but it became a humorless chuckle – a deep, throaty reverberation. Riley gently pushed on her shoulders, and Bree sat back with a bemused frown.
Riley smirked and regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "Determined to make sure I keep you in my employment, Ms. Tanner?"
She froze with uncertainty and could only wait until he continued.
"You seem to be more tenacious than I assumed," he speculated with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Be careful not to exceed your purview."
Bree nodded and quickly stepped to her feet. She turned to put distance between them, but his hand closed around her wrist and stopped her. Riley also stood, and then he took her chin in his other hand. Tipping her face upward, he stared searchingly into her wide brown eyes for a long moment.
"Nevertheless, you've succeeded in changing my mind tonight. Come with me."
Bree followed his half-clothed form down the hallway and into a large, elegant master bedroom suite. In contrast to the sharp dichotomous coloring of the other rooms, this suite was bathed in warm, sensuous shades of brown, gold, and cream. A king-sized bed with a tall, tufted headboard in matte gold fabric drew in the eye and served as the showpiece of the room.
Bree moved to the bed and ran her fingers over the smooth duvet. She exhaled a shaky breath and turned to face Riley. It was time to honor her commitment, and she would think of nothing but that.
Riley considered her for a moment, then extended his hands to her waist. He grasped the hem of her fitted, off-shoulder black top and pulled it over her head. The style of shirt had not necessitated wearing a bra, and so Bree stood bare-chested in front of Riley for the first time.
His eyes traveled slowly over the creamy mounds as one arm circled her waist drew her into him at a perpendicular angle. The other hand then rose to take a breast gently in its palm. His thumb glided over the nipple several times as his fingers worked together to explore the rest.
Rational thought was quickly abandoning Bree as her nipple hardened under his touch and her previous ache descended to settle between her legs. She bit her lip and tried to keep from moving, but her body defied direction as hips circled in search of relief.
A surprised gasp escaped her as she brushed against the sizable bulge beneath Riley's slacks. She tried to press her side against the hardness, but he turned her to face him again. Before she could make sense of these actions, he unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor around her dark stiletto sandals.
Bree's eyes sought Riley's as his hands roamed over the black lace of her boy shorts. When she tried to read his reactions and anticipate his desires, she found only mocking derision in the clouded green depths. Her gaze never wavered as his fingers slid between her legs, but she couldn't stop the moan that escaped her lips when his hand rubbed against the wetness in her panties.
Riley smirked at the sound but did not stop his languid stroking. "Are you honestly ready for this, Ms. Tanner?" he goaded. "How old are you again – 18?"
Bree merely blinked in agreement. She knew full well it was a rhetorical question.
"So young to be a man's plaything." He slid his fingers under the lace and ran them over her bare flesh. "To be someone's whore."
The words cut deeply as intended, but Bree didn't flinch. She repressed the shame, as well as the tears threatening to form, and reached out her own hand to grasp Riley's covered length in her palm. When she pulsed her fingers around him, his own stroking suddenly halted.
"I know what I'm doing," she stated with grim resolve. Her face twisted into its own disgusted smirk, and she brought her hands to his belt buckle. "May I?"
The long moment of silence was pregnant with gravity. Finally, Riley broke their fixed gaze and closed his eyes.
Bree removed the charcoal dress slacks and then crouched down to take off his shoes and socks while he balanced himself on the bed. Still covered by boxer briefs, his erection strained against its confines as she rhythmically stroked him through the material. She could feel him growing harder under her hand, and the sensation caused a new surge of wetness to spread between her legs.
Without warning, Riley pulled at the delicate lace of her panties and ripped them from her body. He swung an arm under her leg to lift and quickly place her in the bed's center. In one fluid motion, he removed his final article of clothing, pushed open her thighs, and settled between them.
With a chest now heaving with anticipation, Bree clutched at his shoulders as his mouth burned over her skin. He was everywhere: her stomach, her thighs, her neck, her breasts. She had never felt such raw desire, and she writhed in desperation beneath him. Moans slipped unchecked from her throat when he moved up her body and she felt his throbbing hardness against her center. Her hips bucked against him, and she slid her hands up his neck to knot in his hair.
Riley emitted a tortured hiss. He abruptly removed her hands and placed the them above her head. He gathered her wrists in one of his own hands. A thrill of pure pleasure rippled through her body and her back arched off the bed when he finally thrust his hips hard to her.
She wanted to grab at his skin when she felt his entire length moving, but her arms were still held immobile. His head buried into her neck as he took her, and the feeling of his hot breath over the wet trail left behind by his lips caused Bree to cry out in aching need.
At the desperate sound, Riley suddenly stilled and lifted his head. She had closed her eyes, but now opened them to find him glaring at her with an undefinable expression on his face. Bree was startled; the two spent so much time communicating wordlessly in deliberate glances and meaningful stares that she grew anxious upon discovering this new, unknown emotion.
Only the length of a heartbeat passed before Bree found herself being turned over and pulled up on her hands and knees. Without warning, her body plunged forward from the force of Riley's thrust against her. Only the hands that grabbed at her hips kept her from falling forward.
At first, discomfort from the hard pounding prevailed over her body. The way she had been flung into this new position caused the familiar shroud of humiliation to descend, but as she acclimated to this different way Riley felt, the ache of desire again increased. Riley's more frequent grunts of concentration and pleasure served to intensify the coiling bubble of pressure that was growing between her thighs. She braced against his onslaught of thrusts, and as they came quicker and harder, Bree moaned loudly and pushed back against him.
Her arms began to shake as the bubble was close to bursting from pressure. If she could just get a little more, if she could just inch a little closer to the edge…
Bree suddenly pitched forward as her hips were released and a long, deep groan reverberated in her ears. Dazed and disoriented, she fell to the bed while hearing the noise of skin moving rapidly against skin and then a choked cry of relief. She slowly pushed herself to a sitting position.
Riley had dismounted the bed and was wiping his hands with the discarded boxer briefs. He walked to an open door leading to a bathroom as Bree gaped in disbelief.
He paused at the threshold but didn't turn around.
"I assume you can see yourself out?"
Riley entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
To answer a question I've received a few times: Sometimes Bree's thoughts are Bella's, and vice versa. However, Bella does not always realize which is which! The challenge (and mystery) is for the reader to try figuring out when this happens.
Poor Bree (and Bella)! We know Riley got his happy ending. What do you think - did Edward?
I included links to Riley's penthouse in my profile. I'll also try to keep it updated with new chapter posting date estimates. You can also follow me on Twitter at winterhorses.