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Then they run the new scene. It’s where his character, the rockstar, leaves when his groupie-turned-girlfriend asks him in the middle of their sex to commit.
“Stay with me,” she sighs, her eyes begging his.
“I never stay,” Redix replies. “I leave. That’s what I do.”
My throat tightens. There’s truth in his tone. You can see he loves her, but it’s not stopping him.
This is for the camera, right?
The heartbreaking drama unfolds as he pulls away and yanks on his clothes in a blur, leaving her sobbing on the bed.
“You’re really good, you know.” An hour later, I’m sitting on the table in his trailer, watching him hang his wardrobe in his closet. He’s done for the day. “Watching you act gave me all kinds of feels.”
“Oh yeah?” The black t-shirt peels off him, his muscles flexing for my view. “Thanks, Candy Cade.” His smile flexes too. “Seriously. That means a lot. That you like my work.”
“Were you acting?”
His jeans fall to the floor. My jaw follows. Wardrobe put him in grey boxer briefs, and his package hangs impressively from below his belt of obliques. Fuck me.
I stammer, “Or is that the real you?”
He steps out of his pants, eyes reading me.
“You jealous again?” It’s three steps across the small space, and he’s between my legs, dangling over the table. “Did you like watching my mouth on another woman, or did it make you wanna fuss ’n’ fight like you do because, fuck, both turn me on?”
“I asked the first question.”
He chuckles, “Yes, Detective,” his lush lips near mine, strands of his hair framing his approach. “I’m acting because I’m not a rock god or with another woman.” His lips kiss mine through his words, “When I close my eyes, I’m the man who loves Cade Bryant and only her.”
Part of that, I believe.
“How do you not get hard then?”
“Because thirty crew are standing around me, and I know I can jerk off when I get back here.”
“That’s what you do in here?”
“At least once a day.” The look in his eyes confirms it. “I think about you all the damn time.”
He pours that last line like honey while his thumb grazes my nipple under my thin tank, and I want my own with him.
Sex. Action. Now.
“Do you finally trust me now?” But he’s also focused on that need; this is more than lust. That we’re together in ways no one can take from us again.
“Do you trust you’re the only one for me?” he asks.
It’s been like this since he told me. An intensity fueling our passion to depths I didn’t know possible. Love and pain and truth, and it makes us so real.
“Yes, I trust you,” I swear to him; my heart warms with it too. “More than anything.”
He rewards me with a kiss that thumps blood to my sex before I demand, “Show me what you do when you come in here thinking about me.”
He pulls my hand down the narrow corridor to the small bedroom in the back of his trailer. Opening the nightstand, he takes out a bottle of lube before pushing his underwear to his ankles. It doesn’t escape me. How he doesn’t hide his scar before he turns around and sits down on the bed.
“I do it like this,” he says.
The openness, the desire he shares with me as he pumps lube into his palm before he starts pumping his thickening cock.
