22. Chapter 22
Chapter 22
With shoots back to back, I only see Errol in a work capacity for a few days. I’m relieved I haven’t had to talk to him. I don’t know what to say at this point, and I don’t think I’m ready to hear what’s on his mind. That doesn’t stop me from staring at him every chance I get. I’m so distracted by watching him direct, I miss my cue to open the door for the third time.
“Ahem,” Micheal says. He knocks again, trying to get my attention and bring me back.
“Just cut,” Errol calls, irritation clear in his voice. Stepping from behind the camera, he walks over to me, hands already on his hips. “What’s going on?”
The stern voice I had grown used to at the start of getting to know him is back and even more intense than I remembered.
“Sorry, I’ll get it this time.” I adjust the garter straps holding up my stockings.
His eyes dart to my legs, lingering on the place I touched, before slowly roaming the lacey bottoms currently hiding my bits. They don’t stop, moving up to linger on the silk clothing my upper half. Ogling me in this lingerie set, the same heat from when we kissed returns, flushing his face and turning his stare ravenous. I clear my throat, trying to get his attention before anyone else notices the way he’s looking at me.
“Concentrate,” he says looking up, and I don’t know if he’s speaking to me or himself.
“Okay, let’s run it again.” Walking back off stage, he eases into his seat and signals for everyone to get in place.
Tearing my eyes away from him, I focus on opening the door when Michael knocks on it. This is the scene where he comes to break up with Fiona, but second guesses himself. Errol not changing his mind about the look for this evening has me standing barely clothed on the set.
I can feel his eyes on me while I move through the scene, and it takes everything in me not to turn and look at him. We go through it ten times before we are able to get it right.
Exiting back towards my trailer, I’m pulled short by someone’s hand on my shoulder. I turn to see Errol standing there, the same hungry look on his face.
“We need to talk.” The words everyone dreads. He says them with a finality that leaves no room for disagreement.
“After this?” I offer.
His eyes roam from my chest to meet my gaze and he nods. “We’re finishing late, so we won’t be coming in until the afternoon tomorrow. That will give us time. We can talk at my place later.”
I say okay as he raises his hands, ready to touch me before he thinks better of it, laying them back down at his side. I turn to go change before either of us does something we will regret.
I head to Errol’s house after we film the last scene for the day. Pulling up, I feel my doubts and insecurities fester as I wait for him to meet me. Still unsure of what I want, the idea that he might see this as a mistake pushes me to think about saying it first.
When his car lights finally shine on me, I’m no closer to knowing what to do. Looking at the clock, the late hour of 1 a.m. makes me even more tired when I think about having this talk.
We silently walk through his home, turning on the lights as we go, heading directly to the living room.
Sinking onto the couch, I turn so that I’m facing the other side, getting comfortable. I expect him to slide in at the end, and am surprised when he comes and sits right next to me, throwing his arm behind me on the couch.
He looks down at me, his eyes a dark storm of desire, and I’m caught up trying to stay afloat. I feel myself sinking into the abyss of his clear attraction when he finally glances away, stopping the waves of his craving from drowning my good sense.
Before I can say anything, he grabs my legs, sliding them onto his lap, pulling me closer. With me half on him and tucked into his side, he tilts my head up with the grasp of my chin.
When his thumb grazes my bottom lip, all expectations of us talking go out the window, and my mind is drenched in want.
I’m not surprised when he raises his eyebrows, asking if he can do more. Apparently, having lost all my reasoning for being here, all I can think about is saying yes. Justifying it, I tell myself I need to know if the passion I felt the first time was a fluke. That I need to know if it will be worth it.
With the slight nod of my head, I agree. He gives a satisfied smile, before kissing me gently. That spark that always dances between us ignites at the touch, burning through the last of my reservations. I throw myself all in, pushing hungrily against him. As my mouth moves more eagerly, his control snaps and his kisses become harder, more feverish, declaring his lust.
Sliding out from underneath my legs, he lays them onto the couch, situating himself on top. He eases me back and lays me down, surrounding my body with his. Hovering just above me, he looks down at all that I am. My breath hitches from the unrestrained yearning shining in his eyes.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He brushes his lips against my jaw.
I close my eyes, lost in the sultry sensation of his deep voice.
“You are also the most infuriating person I have ever dealt with.” Softening the insult with his mouth, he trails it down my neck, peppering kisses across the base of my collarbone. “You are as considerate and kind as you are challenging. You can do anything you put your mind to, and I am obsessed with your inherent need to be right.”
I can feel him smile against my skin.
“What is both enthralling and irksome is the fact that you often are.” The hand not holding him up rests on my face, guiding me to look at him. “You demand I be the best version of myself, and remind me who I am whenever I let insecurities make me think that I’m not.”
He kisses me once more, slow and sensual.
“I can’t imagine my life without you,” he says right against my lips. Pulling back, he looks down on me with all the adulation his words hold.
Transfixed by his stare, I’m unable to do anything but gaze back
“Be with me, Farrah.” It’s a command and an ask all in one breath.
Those four words sink into my chest, going straight to my heart. It swells with them, enlarged by how big and heavy they are. They block out every thought I had before coming here.
“Be with me.” He touches his forehead to mine.
Guiding my hands up to either side of his face, I bring his mouth down onto mine. I kiss him with every pent-up feeling inside me. I kiss him to show him how much I wanted to every time I stopped. I kiss him until the answer is clear enough, without me having to say it. I still do, pulling back to press my cheek to his.
“Yes.”
I know I’ve been hurt before. I know I have so many reasons to say no. Yet something in me screams to take him into my arms whenever I think about walking away. I want him. I need him. I can’t let him go. He pulls away, letting me see the smile stretching across his face, his dimples are more present than I have ever seen before. It is the most wonderful sight in the world.
He moves off me, giving me a moment to sit up before pulling me into his lap. I wrap my legs around his middle and situate my butt between his thighs. Throwing my arms around his neck, I look into those coal black eyes and see them burning with passion.
“I thought you don’t date people you work with.” My smile is smug.
He rolls his eyes.
“I guess I’ll have to make an exception due to extenuating circumstances.” Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, he leans in.
“And what are those?” I ask
“The fact that I’m falling for you.”
My heart stops at this declaration. When it restarts, it beats to a rhythm meant for him. I look at him to see if he means it. The statement shines through every part of his face, as obvious admiration lays bare in his expression. My lips pull apart as I nuzzle my nose against his. Despite the happiness from what he said, I want to question him. I want to dig deep into this statement and find out if he means it. Needing to know if he can hold himself to those words, I have to be sure he will catch me before I take my own leap off that cliff.
“Why?” I ask.
“I could go on for days about all the wonderful things that make you, you. How you are brave, beautiful, and witty. How you own every part of yourself and flaunt it. You are the most open and emotional woman I have ever met, and I love the roller-coaster that being around you brings me on.” He takes my hands in his, laying them on his chest.
“You are everything I thought I could want for myself and more. I have never had someone get under my skin like this.” He laughs like all our fights are playing in his mind. “At first I hated it, it annoyed me. But I can say, without a doubt, no one has affected me as much as you have. All of this is why.” He finishes with a kiss to my cheek.
My eyes prickle with the sensation to cry, but I tilt my head back, stopping it. Once I have control over my ducts, I lean down and press a kiss to his lips. It holds all the things that build in me to say back to him. It is filled with all my resounding feelings that flourish at his explanation.
When we pull back, I see the words have inked themselves into his skin, making me feel like this is a permanent decision. I stand and hold out my hand in his direction. He takes it and leads me to a part of the house I have never seen. He opens the last door in the hallway, and we enter into a bedroom.
Sitting against the back wall is a king size bed with a white cotton duvet and satin sheets. I can’t tell what the rest of the space looks like because I’m too focused on him pulling me forward. Letting go of my hand, he sits on the edge of the mattress and stares me down.
“Strip for me,” he commands, showing me he doesn’t just take control on set. The bratty part of me wants to argue. Make him go first, so I can finally take in the glory that is his body. But I’m so overcome with a deep need for him, that all I can do is raise one eyebrow while my fingers play with the edge of my cropped silk blouse.
“Strip,” he says again.
I feel the weight of that one word push down on my reluctance, forcing my hand.
Knowing I want him to see my body, the last thing I want to do is take things slow. Still, I languidly pull at each button of my top, taking my time. With each one undone, the top slowly falls open to reveal more skin. When the last one is released, I slide the shirt off my shoulders, letting it hit the floor. Next are my bottoms. The skirt, short and clingy, eases down my tights as I roll it with my hands. Once off, I kick it away with my feet.
His eyes are glued to me the whole time, even as I leisurely remove my tights, rolling them sensually down each leg.
Standing here in just a bra and underwear, I’m thankful for my incessant need to match. The red top and bottom stand out against my molten brown skin. I feel his stare roam up and down my body as I wait there. He gestures with one lift of his chin for me to keep going.
The bralette comes off with one pull, leaving my tits exposed. The air puckers my nipples, causing them to grow to stiff points. Only one piece of clothing remains. The red lace underwear barely conceals anything, allowing him a glimpse of my other lips. I slide my fingers into the sides and look up at him for permission. He nods once, and I drop them.
Fully naked, I spin around, letting him get a good look at my ass. I turn back to face him and see his hands are clenched as though he is fighting the urge to grab me. Drinking me in, his eyes hold pure thirst, like I’ve deprived him of my taste for too long.
Without any clothing, he can see all of me. Every roll that makes up the curves of my stomach. Every dip and dimple from my cellulite. He can see the way my boobs hang from gravity pulling them down. Errol sees it and he wants it.
“Come here.” Reaching out his hand, he beckons me forward.
I walk closer and grab it as he stands up and steps to the side, directing me to the bed. I lay back on my elbows, making it possible for me to still see him, my hair splaying out on my shoulders. I expect him to strip now and give me a show, but he just stands at the edge, looking down at me.
“Like what you see?” I ask, feeling proud of my body.
“I love what I see.”
I spread my legs, letting him glimpse the wetness his presence creates. His eyes flicker right to my folds as he licks his lips in anticipation.
“Your turn.”
“No.” He slides down onto his knees. Leaning forward, he plants a kiss on my ankle, all while keeping eye contact. When his lips touch the other one, his hands slide up and down my calves, spreading my thick thighs even more.
I feel raw being exposed like this in front of him when he has so much clothing on. My nerve endings are sizzling, with every touch warming me up until I’m heated. When he makes it to my knees, he looks up at me over my stomach.
In one swift yank, he pulls me close to his face, resting my legs on his shoulders. His mouth is right up against my clit, and his breath breezes across my bare skin.
“You smell delicious,” he says with one big inhale.
The light sensation of the air teases me, making me throw my head back. I want him to lick me. I want him to dive in and feel what he is doing to my body. He blows out a heavy sigh, and I slide down, pushing my want towards him.
“Then taste me,” I command.
As if just waiting for permission, he dives in. His tongue goes right for my hole, his nose pressing against my clit as he pushes his whole face into my soaking flesh. The sensation of his tongue fucking me shoots up my spine, arching my back. Darkness dances in my eyes as I shut my lids, letting the moans break free from my lips.
Every slide in and out sends my head a little farther back. I lose all my senses but touch, the feeling short-circuiting my brain. My hips pump in rhythm with his mouth as I face-fuck him back. I can’t get enough, while not knowing how much more I can take. When he replaces his tongue with a finger, curling it so that every pump hits the sweet spot, I melt even more. Moving his tongue up to my nub of pleasure, he circles the sensitive bud before licking back down.
He continues this pattern, throwing in a small nibble in between each lap. His full lips are moving and sucking me at the same time, sending me squirming closer trying to get more. The sensation of him moving between my legs is intoxicating. I’m drunk on the pleasure to the point where the world seems to be spinning. I don’t know which way is up or down, all I know is his mouth working me into a frenzy. He adds a second finger, and I feel like I’m going to explode. Fireworks burst across my eyelids, the celebration of this momentous event creeping towards the grand finale.
Overcome with every feeling his touch is eliciting from me with each lap, I clench my thighs. His moans of pleasure as he happily dives into my sex are the final push to send me hurtling towards the peak. My hands clench the blanket, my legs crossing around his neck, trapping him in between my thighs. The scream builds all the way from my pleasure point up through my chest to erupt from my lips in one long shattering praise.
“Yes Errol!”
He continues to lick, sliding slower up and down, tasting the orgasm he just gave me.
“I can’t.” I shiver with every languid touch that follows my come down.
He kisses me one last time, then he lifts my legs and slides free. His lips are glistening with my wetness. The image alone is enough to get me going again, as I take in the sight of his face covered in me. His tongue eases across his lips, taking in one final taste. I wait for him to wipe the rest away, but he leaves it there like a trophy of his triumph in making me come.
“More,” I demand, a request to make my legs shake again.
“Tomorrow.” He curls up next to me. Pulling my naked body against his still-clothed form, he rubs his hand up and down my thigh. It’s not long until I succumb to sleep with the soothing feeling of his body around mine.