lovemaking,” he offered. “All you have to do is lay there and react to him.”
I raised my brows and laughed. “I’m pretty sure he expects more effort than that.”
Anderson’s mouth turned up at the ends and the black of his eyes ate away at the green. His body promised me things—things I wasn’t ready to know; that the extra effort would be worth it.
Man, I was in trouble.
Hot, raspy breaths bathed the line of my spine all the way to the dented dimples seated just above my butt. Anderson blew soft puffs of air into the hollow between them, and then shocked my system with a touch of his lips.
I knew it was fake, and I knew all of this action was meant to culminate at my very imaginary tail. I knew it shouldn’t be turning me on, but sweet baby Jesus it was. It really fucking was.
I couldn’t discriminate properly between real and make believe, and my sluggish, aroused mind struggled to remember that the man behind me was no more enjoying his actions than I should be. He was acting. Doing our job. He was just really freaking good at it.
“Love this part of you,” he murmured into my skin, further igniting my senses and making me push my ass toward his face. If I had an elongated tailbone, and needed it serviced, Gary would be the man for the fucking job. At least, Anderson’s interpretation of him would be.
Stretching for it, yearning for it, I clenched my hands in the sheets and threw my head back in—
“Cut!”
Fuck.
Eyes shut tight, my forehead dropped to the surface of the bed below me, and if I wasn’t mistaken, Anderson’s forehead briefly did the same on my back.
“Okay. We got that, guys. Change positions so we can do the take of Miranda’s attention to Gary,” Howie instructed like my world wasn’t tilting even further on its axis. Becoming one with my character was part of the process, but my body was taking it an entire step further.
Anderson moved gently, careful to manage his weight as he picked his body up off of my legs and shifted to laying on his back next to me. Crawling into position straddling him, I avoided his eyes, afraid of seeing something I didn’t like.
The rational part of my brain claimed that signs of real arousal were what I didn’t want to see, but I knew deep inside of myself that the absence of it was what I actually feared.
“Great. Yep,” Howie interrupted my thoughts. “Positioning looks great, Easie. Just start with the kiss and work your way down slowly, okay? We’d rather have more material than less, so take your time.”
“Can I get a lighting adjustment?!” he yelled off to the side, causing a couple of guys to scurry into action from the wings and me to have to sit straddling Anderson in awkwardness.
“So . . .” I offered, finally trailing my eyes up to his. Warmth bathed my skin from the affection I found waiting there as he studied me. His eyes didn’t meet mine, but rather, moved from one of my features to the next, starting at the line of my neck, working their way up my throat, and settling at the middle of my mouth.
“So . . .” he echoed, scrunching his nose in that adorable way before focusing his eyes on mine.
With the conversational ball back in my court, I struggled to make something witty out of the nexus of chaotic thoughts running laps around my brain. Howie and the set gods took pity on me.
“Okay, guys. We’re ready again.” After allowing a few seconds for the set to go silent—and giving me time to take a deep, cleansing breath—he gave us the green light.
“And action!”
Reaching up before I could lean forward, Anderson fingered the ends of my long, fake brown hair. I’d seen him notice the obvious change when we were outside, but we’d gotten too involved in other things to have time to mention it.
He looked at me longingly, the way Gary needed to look at Miranda and the way she would want it. But for me, it got me dangerously lost in the moment.
My eyes held his as I leaned forward, hovering
I raised my brows and laughed. “I’m pretty sure he expects more effort than that.”
Anderson’s mouth turned up at the ends and the black of his eyes ate away at the green. His body promised me things—things I wasn’t ready to know; that the extra effort would be worth it.
Man, I was in trouble.
Hot, raspy breaths bathed the line of my spine all the way to the dented dimples seated just above my butt. Anderson blew soft puffs of air into the hollow between them, and then shocked my system with a touch of his lips.
I knew it was fake, and I knew all of this action was meant to culminate at my very imaginary tail. I knew it shouldn’t be turning me on, but sweet baby Jesus it was. It really fucking was.
I couldn’t discriminate properly between real and make believe, and my sluggish, aroused mind struggled to remember that the man behind me was no more enjoying his actions than I should be. He was acting. Doing our job. He was just really freaking good at it.
“Love this part of you,” he murmured into my skin, further igniting my senses and making me push my ass toward his face. If I had an elongated tailbone, and needed it serviced, Gary would be the man for the fucking job. At least, Anderson’s interpretation of him would be.
Stretching for it, yearning for it, I clenched my hands in the sheets and threw my head back in—
“Cut!”
Fuck.
Eyes shut tight, my forehead dropped to the surface of the bed below me, and if I wasn’t mistaken, Anderson’s forehead briefly did the same on my back.
“Okay. We got that, guys. Change positions so we can do the take of Miranda’s attention to Gary,” Howie instructed like my world wasn’t tilting even further on its axis. Becoming one with my character was part of the process, but my body was taking it an entire step further.
Anderson moved gently, careful to manage his weight as he picked his body up off of my legs and shifted to laying on his back next to me. Crawling into position straddling him, I avoided his eyes, afraid of seeing something I didn’t like.
The rational part of my brain claimed that signs of real arousal were what I didn’t want to see, but I knew deep inside of myself that the absence of it was what I actually feared.
“Great. Yep,” Howie interrupted my thoughts. “Positioning looks great, Easie. Just start with the kiss and work your way down slowly, okay? We’d rather have more material than less, so take your time.”
“Can I get a lighting adjustment?!” he yelled off to the side, causing a couple of guys to scurry into action from the wings and me to have to sit straddling Anderson in awkwardness.
“So . . .” I offered, finally trailing my eyes up to his. Warmth bathed my skin from the affection I found waiting there as he studied me. His eyes didn’t meet mine, but rather, moved from one of my features to the next, starting at the line of my neck, working their way up my throat, and settling at the middle of my mouth.
“So . . .” he echoed, scrunching his nose in that adorable way before focusing his eyes on mine.
With the conversational ball back in my court, I struggled to make something witty out of the nexus of chaotic thoughts running laps around my brain. Howie and the set gods took pity on me.
“Okay, guys. We’re ready again.” After allowing a few seconds for the set to go silent—and giving me time to take a deep, cleansing breath—he gave us the green light.
“And action!”
Reaching up before I could lean forward, Anderson fingered the ends of my long, fake brown hair. I’d seen him notice the obvious change when we were outside, but we’d gotten too involved in other things to have time to mention it.
He looked at me longingly, the way Gary needed to look at Miranda and the way she would want it. But for me, it got me dangerously lost in the moment.
My eyes held his as I leaned forward, hovering
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