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Strickland’s eyes cut to the sheaf of scripts in Kelly’s hand. “Did you memorise your lines?”
“This?” Hell, she’d just got it a minute ago. Kelly shook her head. “Not really. I was busy.”
“Busy partying?”
“Kind of.” Kelly tried imitating Nicolla’s body language.
Strickland jabbed a finger at her shoulder, his voice lowering to a growl, but the message was clear—he was pissed off. “When I come back from Newport, we’re going to have a long talk about your spoilt behaviour, Nicolla. This has been going on long enough. Your shenanigans cost me money.” He snapped his fingers at a tall man in a red flannel shirt. The man dropped what he was doing and came by. It turned out he was the director of the movie. “Our Nicky here has her usual problem this morning. Skip scene four and go straight to the insertion shot today.” Strickland turned to Fitch. “After the shoot, escort her home and make sure she stays sober to work tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” both Fitch and the director said at the same time.
Strickland leant forward, close enough that Kelly could smell the nauseating stench of cigars. “I’m very disappointed in you, Nicolla.”
Kelly blinked. For a moment, she didn’t know what to do. Should she act scared? Defiant? What would the real Nicolla do? Maybe she should give her a call later today to synch up a lot of matters.
Strickland threw her another displeased look and stalked away. Judging from the way people around him cowered, Kelly had a pretty good idea she should be careful with Strickland. She wasn’t afraid of him. She’d seen his type enough during her career. She could handle them, both professionally and personally.
The director stared at her, deadpan. “Well, you’ve outdone yourself today, Miss Evers. Are you ready to work now?”
“What’s an insertion shot?”
The director turned to Fitch. He looked pissed off too. “She’s fucking kidding me, right?”
Fitch massaged her temples, choosing not to answer.
Kelly found out about the mystery behind the insertion shot about half an hour later, after the man who was responsible for her makeup had released her from his scrutiny. Fitch herded her onto the set. Kelly guessed that she had to perform the sex act on the office desk.
She saw Tyler in there with his twin brother, Gunnar. Both were naked and their magnificent erections jutted from their crotches. For a moment, she couldn’t distinguish between the two until one of them kissed her on the lips and whispered, “Love.” He was Tyler—she recognised his voice.
Gunnar was stroking his cock, working himself up into a turgid state. He gave her a secret smile and a wink. Kelly cringed, feeling uncomfortable. They were naked and about to perform the most sacred form of human intimacy, and yet people around them seemed to treat it like it was no big problem. Especially the still nameless director.
He clapped, demanding people’s attention. “For this shot, Miss Evers should lie supine on the desk, you—Tyler—take one of her legs up and penetrate her from this angle. After we get that nicely going, Gunnar, give her a rim job and fuck her ass. Spread it around about five to ten minutes, and let’s see how we’re doing. If we’re lucky, we only need one take, and we’ll able to finish three scenes ahead today. Any questions?”
Kelly wanted to crawl under the table and die. This was so embarrassing. How could someone do this job for a living? She counted about eleven people staring at them with their cameras, microphones and lighting, attending to the director’s orientation. Her knees weakened again, and she would have fallen if she wasn’t leaning against the desk and holding on to the ledge.
“Honey, are you okay?” Gunnar looked worried. His voice was deeper than his brother’s, throatier. Her excited inner cat purred at the presence of another Bengal. “You look pale.”
“Our Nicky has been unusually quiet since last night,” Tyler answered.
Our Nicky? Kelly wondered. What exactly was the relationship between Nicolla and these two studs? Did she date them both? At the same time? Outrageous!
The director took one good look at her and dismissed her as only being cranky. “Miss Evers looks fine to me. We should start. Now.”
The crew moved, taking their positions. Fitch wanted Kelly to take off her robe. She obeyed half-heartedly. She was mortified being naked in front of so many people. “Don’t worry, love,” Tyler comforted her. He had a bottle of lubricant in his hand. “We’ll make it fun.”
“Super extra fun until you’ve creamed,” Gunnar added.
“I’ve what?” Alarmed, Kelly stared at them both.
Gunnar exchanged a glance with Tyler. “Why is she still playing her amnesia game?”
“She’s just unwell. Give her a break.” Tyler lifted her off the floor and spread her on the desk. The lighting person and the cameraman stepped closer.
“You got a good woody there, Ty?” the director wanted to know.
Tyler stroked his cock several times. “Yeah.”
“We’ll start in two.”
