Authors: Lisa Girolami
Tags: #(v5.0), #Actors & Actresses, #Fiction, #Hollywood (Los Angeles; Calif.), #Lesbian, #LGBT, #Romance
“That’s nice,” Avalon said from the couch. She reached her hand out. “Come here.”
“I’m really sorry about tonight,” she said as Paige sat down.
“I’m not used to bar confrontations. They’re so…public.”
Avalon’s chuckle seemed self-deprecating. “Yeah, they are.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my share of fights, but I hate displays in front of other people. I just want a nice, normal evening out, you know?”
A furtive smirk emerged in spite of her efforts to suppress it. “Are you saying I’m not a nice, normal woman?”
“Not really. I mean, you’re into your Hollywood world. Your life is like some extravagant meal of eggs Benedict with caviar and poached salmon. I’m like…eggs over easy.”
“I happen to like eggs over easy.”
“To be honest, I was halfway expecting some kind of outlandish moment tonight,” Paige said. “I’ve got this thing about being in public. I’m not necessarily shy, but I hate to draw attention to myself.”
“You do?”
She nodded. “I have to go out on a book tour in about five months and I’m petrified.”
“Because you have to speak in front of people?”
“Yes.”
“Well, as long as you don’t go overboard like I do, you should be fine.”
“No, really. I’m so scared. Like, I know I’m going to have a panic attack or pass out or something.”
“That has to be frightening.”
“It is.”
“Sometimes I get nervous.”
“No way.”
“I do. It’s a little different. I’m always afraid I’ll trip or my tight dress will rip wide open.”
“I’m sure you could cover with a witty quip or something.”
Avalon laughed. “There’d still be a slew of photographs all over the Internet.”
“Do you feel like you’re susceptible to trouble every time you walk out the door?”
“It seems to follow actors around. If I had a nickel for every crazy thing I’ve seen or story I could tell—”
“Like what?”
“Drunken brawls, naked walks on Sunset Boulevard, crazy demands.”
“What kind of demands?”
“I know someone who requires that,” she said, making quotation marks in the air, “her path of travel must be prepared in advance with the scent of roses. Another one went on vacation, and when she came back and found her goldfish dead in the bowl, she fired all three assistants and her manager.”
“Really?”
Avalon nodded. “A friend of mine has all the outside lights of her hotels turned off so she can see the stars. That’s, of course, after she takes over a whole floor so she doesn’t see anyone in the hall. And a very famous person, who I won’t name, stabbed her agent with her high heels. Oh,” she laughed, “and once, a costar insisted on having a big box of kitty litter in the corner of his dressing room.”
“He had a cat?”
“No. He didn’t want to walk to the bathroom.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No. A celebrity can strip down to nothing, walk down Rodeo Drive, and rant about Popsicles and rainbows, but it’s all explained away as their being dehydrated or overworked instead of just frickin’ out of it because they went too far. How else do you explain an actor I know who wigged out at the Beverly Hilton, threw a chair out the window, showering glass all over everyone sitting around the pool below, then hung out the window and asked them to throw the chair back because he had nowhere to sit?”
Paige shook her head at the liberties celebrities were granted. Sure, it was part of the game of money and power, and many didn’t handle either very well. It didn’t help that their “handlers” were quick to acquiesce and then go about managing the damage control that ensued.
“I’m sorry that situation at the Abbey made you uncomfortable,” Avalon said.
“I am, too.” She was surprised she answered that way, but the confrontation really hadn’t been okay, and she didn’t want to tell Avalon it was.
Avalon looked a bit taken aback. “Listen, it was a fiery relationship and she makes me get so freakin’ pissed off sometimes.”
“What about just walking away?”
A partial laugh burbled out of her mouth. “When cameras are around? Paige, it’s a different world for me. Everything is recorded these days, and I couldn’t give them a shot of my tail between my legs.” A small wave of regret seemed to settle in her expression. “Please accept my apology.”
She softened and nodded. “Would you like anything? Wine? Water?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” She picked up Paige’s
The End
and started leafing through it. “How long have you been a photographer?”
“Since I was in my early twenties.”
“What else have you done?”
“Before I started the Hollywood books, I published
The Landscape of a Woman
.”
“That sounds intriguing. May I see it?”
She retrieved it from a small bookshelf, handing it to Avalon as she sat back down.
“Nude women,” Avalon said as she turned each page, slowly studying the black-and-white images in the large-format book.
Quiet utterances of
wow
and
amazing
excited Paige. She was proud of that work and happily absorbed the compliments. “That used to be my bread and butter.”
“Those are some nice loaves of bread.”
She laughed. “That’s about all I had to pay those models back then.”
“These are beautiful.” Avalon looked up and her green eyes seemed to sparkle with admiration.
“Thanks,” she said as a flicker of desire tickled her.
Avalon kissed her and she tasted the leathery caramel of the French Connection cocktail she’d had earlier.
“Photograph me.”
Paige nodded to the book. “Like that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Now.”
“Now?”
Avalon laughed. “You’ve already seen me in the nude.”
“I’m not sure I’d get much shot with you in the nude.”
“Really?! Hmm, well, we’ll try to stay professional.”
She picked up her camera as Avalon stood and took her other hand. “Where do you want me?”
She was about to answer when Avalon pulled her toward the bedroom.
Only her two Moorish wall sconces were lit, casting long shafts of golden light on the thickly textured stucco walls. She watched Avalon take in the room, with its rich, red area rug over the hardwood floor, the jacquard-draped windows, and the copper-and-ceramic ceiling fixture.
“Is there enough light in here?”
“Sure,” she said, raw desire rising inside her.
Avalon began to undress and Paige froze in place. As if she had accidentally come upon Avalon removing her clothes by a quiet, undisturbed lake, she was transfixed by Avalon’s beauty and the extreme sultriness of such a simple and everyday act.
When she had removed everything but her bra and panties, Avalon sat on the bed. She said nothing but gazed at her almost playfully. Paige's heart beat faster, trying to keep up with a symphony whose score was driving toward a rising crescendo of anticipation and craving.
She slowly brought the camera to her eye.
Avalon leaned back on her hands and Paige took some shots. Slowly, Avalon dropped her head back and Paige zoomed in on the line of her chin. She wanted to run her tongue across what she knew would be a hot, delicious curve.
She continued shooting as Avalon rolled over on her stomach. Paige moved to the side of the bed to catch the length of Avalon’s body and watched as she pulled the pillow from under the quilt and clutched it.
Avalon looked as if she had just awoken from a sexy dream, one that still pervaded her mind and body, because she began to slowly drive her hips down against the bed as if trying to prolong the sensations.
Moving closer, Paige framed the viewfinder to document the gorgeous profile as Avalon’s hair fell over her closed eyes.
Avalon turned onto her back, moving the pillow down over her breasts and stomach until it rested over her hips. Paige stopped tapping the shutter button as Avalon dipped her hands under the pillow. The sight made her suddenly light-headed, and she had to breathe faster to keep from passing out. She was wet immediately. When Avalon pulled off her panties, bringing them out from underneath the pillow, Paige lowered the camera.
Avalon slowly opened her eyes. “Keep shooting.”
Obediently, she raised the camera, powerless to do anything but follow the commands.
Avalon sat up, straddling the pillow between her legs. Paige moaned loudly, receiving a wicked smile. The throbbing fullness between her legs made it harder to stand upright as Avalon’s thighs hugged the pillow like it was the sole focus of her pleasure.
Avalon reached behind her and flicked off her bra. It slid down her side, falling to the bed by her knee. Paige zoomed in, framing the bra, the knee, and part of the pillow in an image she didn’t need to record because it had been burned into her memory.
As she zoomed back out, Avalon was looking straight at her, rocking ever so attentively on the pillow.
The moment Avalon began to open her mouth, Paige captured only one frame before Avalon said, “I want you.”
Paige dropped the camera.
“Come here.”
She found Avalon’s mouth immediately, kissing her hard and pushing her down on the bed. Avalon bit her bottom lip and Paige’s hips involuntarily tightened, thrusting into her thigh, but the pillow was in the way. She reached down, pulling the barrier from between them, and chucked it to the side of the bed.
Avalon moaned loudly, raking at Paige’s clothes, almost tearing them off. Paige helped her, not caring if everything ended up shredded. She needed her now and reached between her thighs.
“You’re so wet,” she said as she felt the extraordinary silkiness between her fingers. Gently, she slid two fingers inside. Avalon moaned—intense, amazing noises—as Paige buried her head in her neck, sucking warm skin that tasted of heady vanilla. Paige moved her hips in rhythm with her fingers and heard Avalon say, “Yesssss.”
Breathing heavily, Avalon rolled them so they were now on their sides, Paige still stroking her. And when Paige felt Avalon’s fingers traveling up her thigh and down across her hip, she shifted to give her more room. She had to feel her, to be filled by her. Even though she knew what would happen, the moment Avalon plunged inside her, she called out suddenly, surrendering to the sweet primal need that rushed inside her.
She found Avalon’s mouth, kissing her greedily as Avalon pushed deeper.
Avalon broke the kiss, saying, “Fuck me,” and Paige’s brain raced into overdrive. The sublime dizziness from her shameless need felt like a narcotic.
“Yes,” Avalon coaxed her, “harder.”
The heat between them broke into a light, moist haze of exertion. Paige wanted to melt into her, to get lost in a communal, hot passion that would absolutely devour them.
Their rhythm was magnificently matched, stroke for stroke, and when Avalon slowed, so did Paige. The way they fit together, the way they responded to each other felt so right—just like it had from the first moment they’d touched.
Avalon’s fingers seemed to be taking her over. She moved inside her with such passion it was practically spiritual.
A sudden tug of vulnerability gripped her. Paige recognized the change in her feelings. She knew she wanted Avalon but in a way that far exceeded the lust of the moment. Desire tumbled inside out, and she let go of any questions or reservations about who she was with.
She closed her eyes, wanting her, needing her, in a deeper, more serious way now.
She held Avalon tighter, savoring her as long as possible. Avalon seemed to understand because her moan purred out like a hallowed acquiescence.
Paige opened her eyes and found Avalon’s concentrated gaze penetrating her. Nose to nose, they moved in the perfect measure of a steady but building musical composition, taking the time for each exquisite note. No clocks existed—no phones, no outside world. Everything that wasn’t part of their flesh and bone melted away, leaving only the arousing sounds of their lovemaking and the sweet agony of their desire.
Paige kept a steady, sensual cadence, feeling Avalon’s body react and counter. She listened to her breathing, convinced that her own existence was dependent upon it.
And then Avalon whispered, “Come for me.”
Paige’s hips responded, pushing into Avalon, who met her with deep plunges of her fingers.
Paige reached deeper as well. Avalon gasped, then exhaled loudly. “Yes!”
“I want you to come harder than you ever have,” Paige told her through her own struggle for breath.
And with powerful pushes, as if they were on a surfboard racing for the next wave’s crest, they moved in unison, panting in erotic exertion until they reached the highest peak and crashed into the enormous tidal wave of their orgasms.
The director yelled "cut" and Avalon walked back to her director’s chair, sitting down with extreme relief. She could finally take a break from using her brain. Paige had been on her mind so much that entire day she was surprised she hadn’t used her name when referring to her costar.
She had fallen so hard for Paige. Never had she let someone so deep inside her. Sure, they’d only been together twice, but the intensity that surged through her when she felt Paige’s touch was still palpable.
She raised her fingers to her lips, recalling how Paige’s mouth felt on hers. And when she replayed the rush that came when Paige slipped her fingers inside her, she bent forward in her chair, groaning quietly.
Paige was perfection. Her heart was kind and genuine, and her body was as hot as she could ever long for. Though Paige was certainly reserved and predictable, all that fell away when they were intimate.
It surprised her that there hadn’t been any of the typical strings or warning signs that had accompanied the start of her previous relationships. She’d always sensed forewarnings of scandal or trouble, signs she would ignore with defiance, only to find her life turned upside down with a nasty breakup and her life empty of everything but a handful of regret.
Overlooking Jessica’s abrasive personality had been a mistake. She hadn’t learned the same lesson with previous lovers either, believing she could have whatever she wanted, regardless of who thought or said what. And it seemed everyone had something to say.