Meeting Movie Stars
"Excuse me," a low, husky voice murmured, and lost in her own world, Mia didn't hear. The owner of the voice cleared their throat and repeated what they had said.
"Oh--" Looking up, Mia found herself staring into a very glamorous face. It was a very beautiful face, all voluptuous planes and angles with just the right amount of make-up, which made the face look perfect, but not overdone. "Pardon?"
The face glowed as the lips parted into a very dazzling smile, and Mia thought, Must be a movie star. Not too young and not too old, she appeared to have no definite age, so perhaps she was in her mid-thirties. The heavy-lidded eyes were half hidden by thick, sweeping lashes, and now these lashes lifted to reveal incredible green eyes that glittered almost mischievously.
"Are you Mia Gianni?" The dark red lips contrasted startlingly with the perfect white teeth, and the green eyes set off the stunning red hair that was swept up casually but with effective flourish into a French twist. Has to be a movie star. She's got Hollywood written all over her.
"Yes, yes I am." Looking over the woman's shoulder she saw that a man was patiently holding the elevator doors open. She had a feeling that with those broad shoulders and the bulge at his breast under his well-tailored suit jacket, he could be nothing but a bodyguard. He appeared to be holding the doors for her.
"Would it be too much to ask for an autograph?"
Mia's mind was hardly on autographs right now, but she nodded shortly and held out her hand for a pen. She saw the bodyguard reach into his suit for one, then proffer it to the woman, who then handed it to her. Then the movie star presented her with a book, one of her earlier works, backside up, revealing the photo beneath. It was from happier, more hopeful days. Days when she really thought she had a bright future. Her smile was actually genuine.
Holding the pen to the left of the proud, thrown back shoulders in the photograph, she saw that it was actually a thick felt tip that would write like a marker-perfect for a signature on the back of a glossy book cover. She wondered at the strange situation. She was sure that this woman knew a lot about her, but Mia had absolutely no idea who she was. She was afraid to ask; it might offend her. She signed her name with a flourish, handed the pen back, and nodded vaguely as she moved past the movie star, hearing behind her:
"Thank you, Miss Gianni, it was so lovely meeting you ..."
In the elevator the movie star looked up with a confident smile at her bodyguard, and nodded for him to let the doors close.
It was Monday and Mia was biting her fingernails, and her short hair, cropped at her ears, was slightly damp with perspiration. She'd had to run to be on time for her appointment.
"Well, Miss Gianni, it looks as if you're only late. You should be aware that a girl as athletic as you are can often be irregular in her menses." The doctor took a seat at his desk and looked at if her as if she'd been misbehaving. I'm not athletic, you moron, I can't even climb a flight of stairs without fainting.
"I was just wondering, that's all, Dr. Caas. It's been three months and I uh I was worried. I can't afford to have health problems right now, I " She swallowed, and looked down at her chewed fingernails.
The doctor looked at her over the rims of his glasses. "Is everything all right, Miss Gianni?"
Mia looked up at him strangely and nodded a little, then stood up. "I've got to be going, Dr. Caas. I'll call again if I have any problems."
Outside the doctor's building she stood very still for a long moment, then looked across the street. A pay phone stood empty, and she jaywalked quickly, sliding a quarter in and picking up the receiver. It rang three times before Reggie answered.
"Yeah, hello." She bit her lip.
"Reggie? It's me." She looked around her, saw the cars cruising by, and tried to hold on without gasping for air. "Mia."
"Mia!" A long silence. "Look, honey, I'm in a meeting right now-"
"Listen, Reggie, I know you're trying to stall and I know you're not in a meeting. Listen to me is it awful? Is it really awful? I can't take this from anyone else but you, Reggie, so you're going to have to be the one to tell me. Have I lost it? Can I still write?" She bit her lip harder, and felt the tears sting at the back of her nose, in her sockets. She was going to lose it.
"No baby, you haven't lost it all yet. Look, maybe you just need a vacation. Maybe you're pushing it too hard. You've only been out of publishing a few months, calm down."
"A few months Reggie, it's been two
years! The anthology my poetry oh fuck it, forget it. I I know you've
been thinking about dropping me, Reggie. People talk. Go ahead, I I'm
all burnt out anyway. Let me know what your plans are, so I can... "
Her voice trailed off. She took
a short breath to finish. "... make plans of my own."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute, Mia!" She pulled the receiver from her ear and hung up.
Inside the gift shop, which was as expensive as they get, she listlessly flipped through posters and blankly examined knickknack ceramics. She had absolutely no idea what she was going to do for her future. She didn't want to be writing unread articles for magazines, or horoscopes for newspapers that nobody ever paid attention to. She didn't want to be the author of cheesy romance novels or crappy mysteries. She had wanted to write something spectacular, incredible but it looked as if she'd gotten stuck too long writing the wrong thing. Horror novels had never been her style anyway. Now she couldn't write anything else, and her work now was horrible. It lacked believability and flow. It was pointless and monotonous. It was boring .
" Hi ... remember me?" She looked up to see the redheaded superstar smiling at her engagingly above clasped hands in red gloves. One of the gloved fingers sported a huge diamond that, if it were real, would have fed several small countries for years. Maybe it was real; people really did have egos to match such things.
"Uh yes, the autograph in the elevator." The woman laughed. Her bodyguard was standing a few displays away.
"Yes, I suppose that when you're famous, you do think of people that way, don't you?" The question confused Mia, because it seemed evident that the lady was famous herself. The smiling face suddenly turned serious, along with the cultured, husky voice.
"Look here, you seem a little depressed. How about we go out for a drink, Miss Gianni?" She ran the titles together, into a lovingly incorrect mizgiani . "Would that make you feel a little better?" An absolute stranger, but why not?
"Alright. But I can't stay out long." As they walked out the door, they passed the phone where moments ago she'd decided her world was at an end.
Mia sat nursing a straight scotch on ice and stared fixedly at the back wall of the mahogany booth where the two of them sat. This was her fifth drink. Her limit for any alcohol was two, and it was somewhere after eleven o'clock at night; she'd stopped checking the number of drinks at nine. She sipped a little more, then blinked slowly, looking across to the woman that had listened intently to her halting and sometimes self-effacing conversation for the last several hours. The movie star had seemed content to just listen and watch her as she slowly drank herself deeper and deeper into her depression.
"What's your name?" Remarkably, her speech was only slightly slurred. Friends in the past had always been amazed at her apparent self-control when she'd had way more than she could really handle. The only evidence that she'd been drinking was the smell of scotch on her breath and the length of time it took between someone's questions and her responses.
The woman reached across to take Mia's glass and sip from it, saying as she lifted it, "That doesn't really matter, does it?"
Unable to think straight, Mia found that she agreed. The redhead returned her drink to her and smiled, looking up and across to the right. She mouthed something calmly to the bodyguard, then looked down at Mia, whose head had dipped closer to the table to make it easier to bring her drink to her lips.
"It's time for us to go." She said it as if she were commenting on the weather.
"Yes, isn't it?" Breathed Mia, finishing her drink. "It's way, way past my bedtime. Ha." The movie star stood up and nodded for the bodyguard to help her up from her seat and walk her to the limousine.
Inside the car, she dozed off, completely unaware of her surroundings.
At her apartment door, the movie star found the keys in Mia's purse and used them, helping her in and standing to watch the younger woman make her way to the answering machine. Mia dropped her things on the floor and shrugged out of her overcoat, swaying slightly as she pressed a button. Six messages.
The first one was from Anne. "This is Anne. Hey, kid, it's five o'clock and you seem to have forgotten that we have a Lamaze class. You're supposed to be my stand-in for Mark! Oh well. I think I'll get Cheryl to help out. Call when you get in, cause you 'ave some 'splainin' to do!"
Lucy: "Okay, so we're going to that publisher's party on Friday night, but who what where and when! Call me, and let me know all the details, alright? Lucy. Bye-bye."
The third one took her by surprise. "Hello, Mia, it's me. Julian. Look, I know that we haven't been on good terms I know that you wanted to cool it. But you don't understand I've been waiting for you for a long, long time. There's no fighting destiny, you know?" A long pause. Mia bit her lip and sagged against a supporting post beside the office desk of the living room, her back to the now closed front door and the redhead.
"I love you. We belong together. I'll call later to discuss things. Bye."
Mia let out a low moan. "Shit. Fuck, Julian, why ... "
"Hey, Mi, it's me! Funny am I, or what? Okay, this is Fred, just in case you can't tell from my bad jokes. Alright, dinner tomorrow, I'll see you after I sign at Cheeky's Bookstore across from the coffee house, alright? Don't forget, four-thirty! We've got to discuss your new book."
Footsteps. Sounded like the movie star coming further into the apartment. The last two were both from Julian.
"It's me. Where are you? I need you. I miss you this isn't fair, Mia, you're denying me like this. We belong together, you and I Christ! Where are you? Answer the fucking phone!" Silence. Then the beep, and a next one ...
"Oh, God, Mia, I wanted to stop things, before it was too late-didn't mean to, I " A few moments of garbled groaning that she could not understand, then "Oh Christ, this message- Oh, Mia, please I love you, you and I we could have been . . . "
The voice, pathetic and pleading, continued on in the background as suddenly Mia felt lips close to her ear from behind. She felt herself beginning to sober up.
"I hear you have an admirer," came the husky redhead's voice, but all Mia could do was give a tiny nod. A deep, slow breath at her ear. "I could get him for you. Distract him, if you will ... " She spoke over Julian's voice, moving still closer, her body pressed against Mia's back. Mia drew in a breath, and held it. Then she turned her head a little and looked at the movie star. The heavy lidded eyes looked sidelong at her, smoky and green.
"Hm?" The red lips asked, and then suddenly they were parting against hers, a hot, moist tongue and mouth drowning her. Startled, Mia made a choking sound and pulled back, pressing against the post. The lips were curled in a knowing and pleased smile.
"See you later, alligator," the movie star breathed, and she turned to casually walk back to the door and out of the apartment.
In the morning she had the most incredible hangover. She moved through the day slowly, like a zombie, trying to write but being unable to produce one interesting sentence. She returned everybody's call but Julian's and Fred's, and at four-thirty sat waiting across from Cheeky's Bookstore, sipping a mocha. Fred waved gaily to her and trotted across the street to join her at a café table inside, taking her free hand to kiss it lightly on the back.
"You look lovely, as always," he said, signaling a waiter. After ordering an espresso, he leaned into the table and gave her a demanding look.
"So? How did it go with Reg? Did he like it?" It took Mia a long moment to push back the emotions she had concerning her writing and Reggie, and she shook her head slowly.
"No. I've lost it, Fred. No more. I haven't got any more juice." He gave her a disbelieving look and leaned back in his chair.
"Oh, come on," he said, thanking the waiter as the man set down his drink and departed. "It can't be that bad. Maybe it's just the weather. Cold and dreary. It is San Francisco in the winter time, you know. Maybe you just need a change of pace, or a change of place." He smiled a little at the play with words, then furrowed his brow as he saw that she wasn't convinced.
"That serious, huh?" He sipped his espresso. "Do you know if there's a reason for the lack of feeling?"
Mia sighed. "You wouldn't understand, Fred. You've been writing what you wanted to ever since you started. Me, I was never into Stephen King and all that jazz. I was into fantastical horror, eroticism, not blood and guts. I was into vampires and legends, myths. Not shit that in the end can be explained, even if it sounds a little farfetched. But I've been writing the wrong thing for seven years, Fred. Suddenly, that's all that I know how to write anymore. And now I can't even do that right. I've lost my passion because I forgot what I had a passion for. I can't feel it anymore, Fred, and I I don't ..." She put her mocha down and looked at the street, eyes stinging, mouth in a firm frown. "I don't know what to do. I'm pretty sure that Reggie plans to drop me."
"Don't say that." He reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "You've got to believe in what you're doing, or you're not going anywhere. You hear me?" She looked at their intertwined hands, then back up into his kind brown eyes.
"Yeah." She gave him a weak smile. "I hear you."
On Friday she and Lucy sized each other up and made last minute adjustments before saluting each other and sweeping out the door and into the elevator. Stepping out into the lobby of her building, Mia was suddenly reminded of last week, when she'd been in L.A., staying at the Rembrandt for a couple days while trying to take care of business with Reggie, knowing all the time she was a flop. Strange that that woman should have met her again in San Francisco, and even stranger what had happened earlier in the week. In the back of her mind she still worried over that woman and her weird invitation. She knew it had been a bad idea to let the woman bring her home.
In the taxi, they talked about Jim Bale's exclusive house party down on the Embarcadero. Jim was one of the biggest publishers around, the sole owner of fifty-one percent of his publishing company, and the kind of man who would die before giving up that extra one percent. When the taxi pulled up to the gate, they found it open and waiting, and when they pulled up to the front of the house they encountered several bouncers and valets, waiting for car keys and invitations. After flashing their invitations, they were allowed inside. The party had started over an hour ago, and they were fashionably late.
"Oh my God am I glad we didn't bring dates!" Cried Lucy, ogling the eligible bachelors loitering around the floor. "I'm gonna get me some tonight!" She added, scooting off to attach herself to a group of rather buff specimens. Mia laughed and looked around, searching for a familiar face.
"Hey, darlin'." Turning, Mia encountered Fred's handsome face and the pretty one next to him. The blonde on his arm smiled sweetly and introduced herself, and Mia went along with it, winking covertly at Fred as he sashayed away with his prize on his arm.
"I wonder if he still has no idea that all this time you've had a crush on him," remarked Lucy, materializing beside her.
Mia gave a lopsided grin. "What happened to the hunt?" she asked. Lucy rolled her eyes.
"Oh, it's far from over, dear. It continues, an ongoing plot, but on the surface, we girls are just having fun. Come on, let's go grab some men and dance!" The first few dances, to a funky kind of new jazz, went by quickly, and after a while Lucy appeared to have finally narrowed her selection of potential playmates down to five or six. Mia gave up after a couple more dances and made her way to a waiter holding up a tray of champagne, and swallowed down the bubbly before reaching for another. She danced a few more dances and chatted some with people she barely knew for another hour or so before reality stepped in.
"Hello darlin'. Fancy seeing you here." The familiar, husky female voice that had left her subconsciously uncomfortable for all of the week came breathy and hot against her ear, and Mia froze, unable to do anything but stare straight ahead.
"Didn't think I'd forget such a pretty little face, did you?" The voice asked, and the redhead moved out in front of her, her hair swept up into a fountain of curls and ringlets, her evening gown a stunning green to compliment the coloring of her skin, her hair and her eyes. The full, incredible lips, superstar lips, were smiling casually at her, and the thick lashes were low over the eyes that had ideas in them that Mia was sure she didn't want to know about.
"Look, I don't know who you are, but I'm ready to stop this. Thanks for the drink the other night, and thanks for taking me home. But let's leave it at that. I'm not interested in your game."
"Ooh, you catch on quick, don't you?" The redhead purred, pleased with herself. Mia started to move away, but then she saw what looked to be two bodyguards instead of one. They didn't look as if they'd let her pass.
"Yes, I like games and I already know that the kind I like to play aren't the kind you like to play. But it's just a matter of taste." The green eyes widened and sharp teeth revealed themselves in a sly smile. "An acquired taste." She took Mia's half empty champagne glass and knocked its contents back elegantly, then handed the glass to a passing waiter.
"Don't worry, I'll teach you to have a taste for such things before I'm through with you." Mia stared hard at her, but then the woman nodded her head over towards the far side of the ballroom floor.
"Oh," she said lightly, her dark red lips parting on a moue, "it looks like somebody's found you. I'll let you two get reacquainted, and perhaps ... " That sly smile again, "I'll see you later." Mia's eyes widened as she saw Julian come toward her.
"What the-"
"Oh, Christ, Mia, I just got here I've been looking all over for you!" Julian, with his dark features and angelic face, was the hottest male model in fashion right now, but he was also a little on the psychotic side. Seeing that he was possessive, violent, and unpredictably moody, Mia had left him as soon as he began exhibiting aggressiveness. For nine months now she'd been assuming that he'd moved on like she had, but his messages on her machine proved otherwise. All eyes were on them right now. She shifted her feet beneath the scrutiny and warily watched him as he moved closer.
"Hey, baby," he breathed, passionately pulling her to him and sliding his mouth against hers. She had to admit, she was still attracted to him, but that was hardly enough.
"Stop it, Julian," she replied, pulling away from him and putting the back of her hand to her lips. He'd bruised them rather cruelly many times in their relationship, before she'd realized that he got off on hurting her and leaving ugly marks on her body. At first she'd thought those marks were simply evidence of the pleasure of their nights together, but she'd learned that they were examples of his possessive tendencies. He tended to have her wear clothing that hid her body, and liked to leave her sore and bruised. It stroked his ego to watch her fight not to cry when he blew up at her, and when she finally told him no more rough sex, and he'd hit her, her wounded ego had finally raised its head. She'd had enough. Except for a couple of distant phone calls and one chance meeting, she'd finally pulled herself together and moved on with her life.
"Come on, baby, let's dance," he said, and ignoring her hissed protests, he drew her out onto the dance floor. Women threw wide-eyed glances at them the whole time as he wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her so close that she could feel his erection.
"I've been lost without you, sugar," he said, his Italian good looks making her groan inside as she felt her body respond to him. He was practically pouring testosterone into her body, and she didn't like the fact that she was sinking into him, closing her eyes and letting him run his hands all over her.
"Sure you have, Julian," Mia murmured, "and you'll be just the same after this dance. I told you I didn't want to see you any more. I meant it. This is not 'destiny.'" He only ignored her, and pulled her closer, if that were possible. Now that she was crushed against him and could hardly breathe, she realized that she was making a mistake letting him get away with this much. She prayed for the song to end.
He started to move into the next one, but she quickly pulled away and breathed into his ear, "I've got to go to the bathroom."
He let her slip away, reluctantly, and she practically ran to find a restroom. Once inside, she started to shut the door but a braceleted wrist and beringed hand, with blood-red fingernails, reached out to stop her. The movie star stepped into the bathroom with her and shut the door behind her. Mia backed away and went to the sink, taking deep breaths, staring at her reflection. Her eyes moved to the reflection of her female stalker.
"What do you want from me?"
The woman smiled slowly and shrugged her shoulders lightly. "You'll find that out soon enough," she said, then nodded toward the door. "You're date, the one who left such romantic messages on you're phone?" Mia nodded slowly, waiting.
"I told you I'd get him didn't I?" Mia frowned in confusion. The woman smiled. "Just watch. Be ready. The three of us will be leaving a little early tonight. I want you to wait over by the hall, where the waiters have been coming out. We'll leave that way."
"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Mia frowned and turned from the mirror. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
The woman gave another casual smile. "I told you, you'll find out everything soon enough. And you'd better cooperate. My men are watching you."
Her men. My God.
Mia stood waiting nervously by the hallway, watching the waiters go in and out, her eyes scoping for what was happening. Then she saw the movie star walk up to Julian, and give him a look so suggestive that it could only have been taken for sexual. He looked disturbed, but nodded, and they exchanged a few words, both appearing to know each other very well. They moved out onto the dance floor, and Julian, in his tux, his dark, olive skin set off perfectly by the lighting, looked picture perfect dancing with the blazing, well-endowed redhead that was almost as tall as he was. She looked over thirty-five, but was in very good health. She might have passed for twenty-something, if it weren't for the worldly, classy look she had about her.
When the dance was over, the movie star led Julian away by the hand, in Mia's direction. Suddenly, one of the guards appeared and hustled Mia toward the hallway, making it look as if he might have been her escort, and once in the kitchen, he pulled back, checked over his shoulder, then continued to hurry her through the kitchen, ignoring the irritated waiters and caterers. They passed through a washroom, some servants' quarters, then finally to a back door. Going through it, Mia faced the cold night air and shivered.
"I left my coat-"
"Forget it," the man said gruffly, and startled by the rough edge in his voice, Mia shut her mouth and let him usher her into the back of a black limousine waiting in the private, gravel driveway at the back of the house. After several moments, she heard footsteps and muffled kissing sounds, and then a dark shape loomed in the open car door. Julian made his way into the car, barely missing her feet with his own, before collapsing to pull the redhead down onto the seat next to him. After several long seconds, the door shut, the car started, and they were moving. Then Julian realized that there was someone else in the back with him and the movie star, and left off kissing to peer into the darkness.
"Who's there?"
Mia said nothing.
"Shhh, darling, we'll discuss it later. You and I are going to have a lot of fun tonight."
The rest of the ride Mia spent frozen on the other side of the back seat, listening to the redhead whisper nothing in Julian's ear, half angry and half scared of what her fate would be.
They pulled up at Mia's apartment. The redhead and Julian got out first, slowly making their way between fondling and tonguing, into the lobby and onto the elevator. He paid no attention to the bodyguards, nor to the young woman that stood fearful behind them. When they got to her door, one of the men reached out his hand for the keys and she fished for them in her purse, turning them over when she found them. He unlocked the door and gestured for her to wait for the redhead to enter first with Julian all over her, then nodded for her to go in. Amazed at how these people were behaving as if they owned the place, Mia slowly followed. She stood waiting as the movie star disengaged from Julian to speak to her guards.
"Go home. I'll call you when I'm ready to go." The men bowed their heads and retreated, and the redhead shut and locked the door behind them. She reached over and switched on a small lamp that barely threw any light, and in the dimness, dropped her things on a little table and walked over to Mia, ignoring Julian, who stood watching.
"Darling, why don't you help us get a little more comfortable. The bedroom? Is it over there?" The movie star gestured to the front of the apartment, where the huge, studio-like bedroom was separated only from the living room and the rest of the apartment by a five foot dividing wall. Mia nodded, staring at Julian. He still couldn't see her face, because the light was too low and he was too far away. He probably didn't recognize her apartment, either, because she'd thrown out everything he'd added to it during their relationship.
The woman led Julian along and Mia followed, walking around the wall that was draped with silks and a few of her clothes. The redhead pushed Julian down onto the edge of the bed and looked up at Mia, who stood a little ways away.
"Cut on the light. And don't close the shades. If people want to see, let them see." Her slow smile gave Mia chills. "I like to watch. Don't you?"
Mia quickly turned away and moved to turn on a light beside her wicker divan, where she often spent her time reading by the huge, ceiling to ceiling windows to relax. Now she slowly sat down on this divan, the dim light revealing little, but plenty, as she heard the heavy breathing of Julian and this frightening stranger. She watched as the woman slid out of her velvet heels and lifted her skirts. It looked as if Julian had already undone his pants, because now the woman mounted him and let out a slow breath, lifting up slowly and riding him down again. Biting her lip, Mia continued to stare, taking in the rhythmic motions, finding that her breath came in and out with theirs. Julian gripped the emerald velvet hips and thrust them up and down repeatedly, then buried his face in the bosom that heaved crudely before him, until, suddenly, they both made sounds of climax and slowly rode to a stop.
But it appeared that the movie star wasn't through. Dismounting, the redhead got down onto her knees and began licking Julian's sex, playing with it, and when it was hard and ready again, she turned to look at Mia. Her lips were slick and full with kissing, light perspiration on her upper lip and across the top of her breasts. Her smoky green eyes looked invitingly at Mia, and then she licked her lips, panting still, and spoke.
"You're not just going to watch, are you? Come on, don't you want to try? Don't you want to see what it's like?" The redhead gestured to herself and Julian, who was looking down at his mistress and breathing heavily in anticipation.
"Come on, baby. I know you want this." Slowly, Mia stood up, and found herself walking over.
"Yes," said the redhead, pleased, and she took off Mia's shoes, still kneeling on the floor. She kissed the backs of Mia's stockinged knees, then reached up underneath her skirt to pull down the pantyhose. Discovering that they were garters, she smiled up at Mia and instead reached up to slide her fingers into the secret place that the lacy, silken panties protected. She found Mia soaking wet and hot as an oven.
"Yes, you want this, don't you?" Mia could only breath, waiting silently, as the woman expertly ripped a hole in the silk big enough for Julian to enter. "Don't worry. I had him fixed a long time ago." And smiling sexily, the red lips sucked Julian to fullness one last time, before withdrawing. Her agile, knowing hands guided Mia forward and upward, until, gasping, the younger woman found herself fucking the one man she'd never wanted to meet again.
"Oh, Mia," he breathed, his hands working at the front of her dress to find her breasts, and then the redhead was at her back, hips rubbing against her backside, fingers working at her zipper.
"By the way," the husky voice whispered in her ear as the lips kissed her left earlobe gently, "My name is Mona."
The dress was around Mia's waist now, and Mona worked her black, strapless bra off, her warm hands molding Mia's breasts and guiding them into Julian's hungry and waiting mouth.
"Come on, baby ... yeah Mia, yeah! " he groaned, his tongue and teeth driving her wild, and Mia gasped, found herself turning to receive Mona's kisses against her lashes, and then she arched back, feeling slick woman's fingers inside of her along with Julian's large, Italian cock.
"Mona, yes harder -" Calling this stranger's name, gasping as Julian thrust himself as high up into her as he could go, Mia found herself lost, hot, and willing now to play any game that Mona wanted. Then suddenly Julian came, too early, and shot a worthless trickle of fluid into her. Panting, she got off of him and turned to find Mona half sitting, half lying on the bed, the lace-up front of her gown undone, her skirt pulled back to reveal everything she had to offer, and her fingers sliding in and out of her sex.
"Come and play with me," Mona breathed, and Mia pushed her own dress down off her hips and climbed up onto the bed, kneeling with her legs spread to lap at Mona's sex. She'd never done this before. It involved a smell and an intimate knowledge of something that was identical to her own flesh, something she had never been this close to, a strange flow of movement her body leaned toward and instigated and had known nothing about. But she was doing it now. And as she saw to Mona's sex, she reached up to feel the woman's abundant breasts, to squeeze, to understand . . .
And then suddenly she felt Julian ram up into her from behind, his sex hard as steel and hot as fire, his hips working roughly against hers as his right hand gripped her right breast and his left settled on one of Mona's spread knees. The three of them stayed like this for a long while, before Julian finally came and left Mia feeling incomplete.
"Poor baby hasn't come yet, has she?" Mona asked softly, and she reached for something underneath the pillow. Mia hadn't been aware that she put it there. It was a gun, thick barreled, black, and it fit easily in Mona's hand.
"On your back," she said to Julian, and quickly, he obeyed. Mona knelt between his spread legs and gestured that Mia squat facing her on his chest. Leaning forward, she whispered in Mia's ear, "It's not loaded."
Nodding, Mia closed her eyes and felt the cold barrel enter her loins. Then, it began to move in rhythm with Julian's thrusting, Mona mounted on him as she kissed Mia lovingly. They played with each other's breasts. It seemed natural; Mia had long since given up fighting or questioning. Meanwhile, the gun served its purpose. Finally climaxing, Mia gave a piercing shout and came all over the gun, soaking Mona's hand and Julian's belly. Mona slid the weapon out and directed her to open her mouth. Mia did, tasting her own juices as Mona licked delicately at her own hand, tasting Mia as well. Then Mona came, her back arched as Julian's raw, hard sex thudded into her from below, Mia's lips and teeth tugging at her nipples, and finally she ceased clutching Julian's sex inside of her and slid down onto the bed beside him, taking Mia with her.
A couple of hours later, they lay dozing, Julian fast asleep, his sex now flaccid between his powerful thighs. Mona held Mia to her with one arm, and gently stroked her hair with the other, before picking up the gun and showing it to her lover.
"I was supposed to shoot you with this."
"What?" Mia whispered, her eyes wide and seeking in the dimly lit room.
"Julian hired me to kill you. But he had no idea whether or not he really wanted you dead. Alive for only him, dead if you wouldn't agree. That's why all the messages. The one about evidence ... now you know why. I was supposed to have killed you by then, but lucky for us three, I'd made my own plans for you."
"Plans?" Mona kissed the top of her head and went on talking.
"Usually I don't take this kind of small job, but he was really willing to pay quite a lot for you. I often like to meet my victims, and when I first saw you - way before you ever gave me your autograph - I knew then that I wanted to get to know you a little better."
"Now you do." Mia closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, feeling the cool skin of Mona's leg between her thighs.
"Yes. I could use you for more than just my lover. I have many of those." A pause. Mona stroked hair away from Mia's cheek and lifted her face to hers for a slow, languorous kiss. After their lips parted, she took a breath, then let it out, looking back out at the night through the huge windows across from the bed.
"But we'll discuss all that later. First, we've got to prepare. You're coming with me to Miami."
"Miami! But I can't-"
"You haven't really got a choice, honey. You see, in my line of work, when someone pays you to do something, you do it. You would have been dead, no doubt about that. But I decided to let you live. But someone still has to die. I have to preserve my reputation, after all. So you owe me a favor. A big one. I saved your life and now I own you. Plain and simple. If you don't agree to cooperate, well, we'll just have to change your mind." With that, Mona kissed her once more before leaving her and the bed to get into her dress. Somewhere between the sex they'd had and the sleeping, they'd gotten it off her.
"Go ahead and have as much of him as you like," said Mona, as she finished dressing. "You won't be seeing him again." There was something ominous in the way she said that, before she turned and left them. Hearing the door close, Mia rolled over and stared down at Julian. As much of him as I want? What is he, meat?
But she found her eyes traveling all
over his body, and her hands moving to realize her secret thoughts. When
his lashes lifted, and he smiled slowly at her, she found herself unable
to resist. She took him into her without another thought.