Chapter Eighteen

Sophia

Ryan’s looking at me like he can’t believe that’s just happened and I’m looking at him like I can’t believe that’s just happened and then Tracy bursts into the room unannounced.

“Are you guys... coming?” she says, the words out of her mouth, the intrusion apparent, before she even realizes it. “You, haven’t”, she adds, her hand going up to her mouth. “Oh fuck, guys, not here on the couch, that’s disgusting.”

I’ve managed to fold myself into Ryan enough that everything is covered, despite the fact that he’s still inside me. My skirt covers the opening in his fly where his dick pokes through, and his arms around me holding him against my chest covers everything else. This is a perfectly normal way actors sit after performances, so I have no idea what Tracy’s problem is.

“We were just hugging”, I say, trying to ignore Ryan’s still rock hard cock making my pussy tingle or the fact that his cum is still inside me and how much the idea of that turns me on.

“It actually smells of sex in here”, Tracy says. “You guys couldn’t have waited?”

As disgusted as she’s making out, I can’t see her attempting to move. All she’s doing is looking at us while she slowly shakes her head as though appalled we might even consider fucking.

“Tracy, if you don’t mind”, Ryan says.

“We’ll wait for you in the bar”, Tracy says, “you know, just in case you want to fuck each other again before you come and meet us.”

She looks at us a little bit longer, raises her eyebrows like a disappointed parent and then finally leaves us alone.

“That was close”, Ryan says. “Tracy almost managed to convince me she was acting.”

I can’t help but laugh. “That was—.”

“Fucking incredible?” Ryan says, filling in the words for me.

I fold myself against his chest, rock my hips forward a little and ease him back up inside me. “Fucking incredible”, I repeat back to him, keen for us to just begin the whole thing again.

“I can’t believe that just happened”, Ryan says. “That did just happen, right? I didn’t just imagine it?”

I lift my skirt a little to let him see where we’re both still connected. “I hope that wasn’t the wrong thing to do”, I say.

“Sex before marriage?” Ryan asks, “No. All the modern couples are doing it.”

“William and Elouise missed out”, I say.

“You still want to?”

“I still want to what?”

“You still want to get married”, Ryan asks. “You know, after this.”

“I already told you”, I say, “once I make my mind up about something, I never change it.”

“That’s good to know”, Ryan says, “fuck, that’s good to know.”

I want to stay on top of him for the rest of the night but I know that if we leave it any longer, Tracy’s going to be back in here with Marshall, Paul and the rest of the cast and crew, if not half of the audience as well. I lift myself off him slowly, making sure I enjoy every single inch of his rock hard dick, and then quickly readjust my panties.

Ryan’s cock is so big it hardly fits back in his pants, and I can’t keep my eyes off it until he’s finally put it away.

“I’m going to—”, I say, filling in the rest of the sentence with thumb pointing towards the restroom door.

“Okay”, Ryan says, “I’ll wait for you here.”

I practically skip to the restroom, or float, or use whatever magic power what we’ve just done seems to have given me. I wash my panties in the sink, clean Ryan’s cum from my still extremely tender pussy and look at myself in the huge wall hung mirror while I wait for my panties to dry. I have a glow, and it’s not just the usual cheek reddening glow I’d get after having an orgasm. It’s a glow that seems to make my whole body radiate with warmth, and I can almost feel the heat rising off my skin when I touch it. I feel good, better than good actually, I feel absolutely fucking amazing.

My panties are still damp, but I put them on anyway, and then look at my belly in the mirror. I’m definitely getting plumper. I’m not fat by any means, but it’s definitely noticeable. A little curve on a profile that used to be as flat as a washboard, an extra few centimetres of spare skin where I couldn’t even pinch any together between my fingers before.

I guess that my adopted American diet, my lack of quality sleep, too much hard work and late night drinking after each performance is obviously taking it’s toll on me. I make a promise to myself to quit eating chipotle, let my skirt fall back around my thighs and give myself a final look in the mirror before going out to rejoin the man I’ve just fucked who thankfully happens to also be the man I’m planning to marry.

The girl that looks back at me does so with a sparkle in her eyes I haven’t seen for as long as I can remember.

“Don’t fuck this up”, she tells me.

“I won’t”, I say, and head back out to get Ryan.

I get the feeling that both of us would prefer to head home and immediately carry on what we’ve just begun, but I know we’d never hear the end of it if we did. Besides which, putting in a token bar side appearance after Marshall has just blabbed to the world that we’re about to get married, can only work in our favor, after all.

When we get to the bar, we are greeted with a kind of reverential silence that confirms for me beyond any doubt that Tracy has already told everyone exactly what we’ve just done.

“Do you know what we’ve created here?” Ryan whispers as we approach.

“Exactly what we wanted”, I say.

“Here they are”, Marshall beams. “The horny couple. I’m surprised you’ve managed to keep your hands off each other for long enough to make it here. What can I get you both to drink?”

We order drinks and stand around awkwardly while everyone looks at us, waiting for someone else to ask the question they’ve got on the tip of their tongue.

“So”, Ryan says eventually, breaking the silence. “Good performance tonight.”

“Oh, come on”, Marshall says, his hand around Ryan’s arm, already tipsy. “I heard it was absolutely magnificent.”

My eyes go to Tracy but she’s far too busy laughing to notice. I guess this was always going to happen at some point, it’s just come a lot earlier than either of us expected. I thought we’d have to do the deconstruction after the wedding and not before it, but it is what it is. If we can convince everyone tonight that our made up story holds water, forgetting for a moment that Ryan and I have just fucked because I still haven’t had a chance to process it myself and work out what it really means in the grand scheme of things, we will accomplish exactly what we set out to do.

What is working in our favor is that apparently everyone saw this thing coming a mile off, plus they have no idea about the inheritance we’re going to be claiming. One thing that might derail our campaign is that pretty much everyone here knows I need a visa to stay, and if there’s one group of people more cynical than any other, it’s those in the creative arts.

“So, how long has this been going on for?” Paul asks, holding his bottle of craft beer out to use as a pointer. “You know, the marriage thing. Not that I care, I’m just interested to know.”

We’ve barely been given a chance to sip our drinks and the questions have already begun. Ryan and I look at each other and then back to the baying crowd, who have sort of organized themselves behind Marshall and Tracy like vultures queuing to pick the leftover meat from a carcass when the lions have done.

Ryan shrugs. “It just felt like the right time”, he says again.

Paul nods, takes a sip of his beer and lets someone else have a go, about as interested in continuing his line of questioning as he is to shave off his moustache.

“I think it’s marvellous”, Marshall says, his arm around Ryan’s shoulder. “Even though I’m not a big fan of marriage.”

“Thanks, Marshall” Ryan says, “we appreciate your support.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit quick?” Tracy says. “I mean, I didn’t even know you two were seeing each other, and now you’re planning to get married. Not that it’s any of my business.”

I decide to field this one. “We’re not planning on getting married tomorrow”, I lie, a little squeeze of Ryan’s hand enough to tell him I’m acting again. “The marriage license was a spur of the moment thing, we still haven’t decided when we’re going to do it.”

“Don’t those things run out?” Connor asks.

“We get sixty days to use it”, Ryan says. “So enough time to change our minds if we want to.”

“Enough time to get married and divorced if you want to”, Marshall says cynically.

“And when does your visa run out Sophia?” Brad says. “Isn’t that in like a couple of months as well?”

Fucking Brad. Quiet all evening until he puts in the sucker punch. He’s been bitter ever since Marshall chose Ryan over him for William, ever since I made it clear I wasn’t interested in his meathead, chauvinistic advances.

“That’s a good point”, Paul says, froth from his beer lining his moustache like frosting on an eclair. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Yeah”, Tracy says her brain a little slower than everyone else’s. “You guys aren’t?—. Are you?”

“No”, Ryan says. “That’s not why we’re doing this.”

“It’s pretty convenient, though, isn’t it?” Brad goes on. “I guess it would mean that Sophia could stay here indefinitely, I mean, it’s not like people don’t do that all the time anyway. I’m not saying it’s bad either, you know, whatever you guys want to agree between yourselves, who am I to judge, after all?”

What the fuck are you even doing here, Brad? An understudy that spends the entire length of the performance run following Marshall around like a puppy dog.

“Yeah”, Tracy says, adding fuel to the fire, a mere glimpse of gossip enough to set her off like a greyhound chasing after a rabbit. “You can tell us.”

The circle eases closer as the crowd wait for our response. I can’t say I didn’t expect it, but it kind of makes me mad that it’s clear what they want us both to say is yes, because it makes for a better story. The last thing we want is for them to believe that’s true, however, because it’s the biggest thing that could damage our inheritance claim.

“It’s a good story, but it’s just not true”, I say. “We haven’t actually decided whether we’re going to stay here in the States after we get married anyway. Besides which, I’ve got plenty of other options to extend my visa before I have to rely on the updated version of the film Green Card.”

“It was the other way round in Green Card”, Marshall points out, “and anyway, Ryan’s way sexier than Gerard Depardieu. And, more to the point, you guys are fucking for real. Everywhere, including the dressing room couch it seems.”

“Fucking hell, Tracy”, I say, my eyes going straight to her.

“Oh come on”, Marshall says, waving his arms about in the effeminate way that he can’t avoid, “it’s not like you’re the first couple I’ve had in one of my plays fooling around on that sofa. That fabric has taken some battering I can tell you.”

“Eeuww”, Tracy says, pretending to be offended. “I did not need to know that.”

“Not a marriage of convenience then?” Brad says, seemingly with a point to prove.

“It’s not a marriage of convenience if we love each other is it?” Ryan says.

Brad shrugs. “I guess we’re not the people you have to prove that to.”

What the fuck is his problem? “You don’t have to prove anything to me”, Tracy says, finally doing something that helps us. “I’ve seen it first hand.”

“Anyway”, Ryan says, trying to move the subject on. “It’s great to have everyone’s support. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you all sooner, but we just didn’t want to mess up the dynamic of the play. We’ve been having an amazing time with Redemption and we didn’t want to do anything to fuck up the balance. The whole thing about getting married, that’s something that just came up recently, and Sophia’s visa situation didn’t even come into it. To be honest, I had no idea she wasn’t here permanently anyway.”

Ryan pauses just for the briefest moment, but it’s enough time for Brad to get another dig in. “You sure she’s not just playing you?” he says with a shit eating grin I’d absolutely love to slap off his face.

Ryan plays it well though. He smiles back, changes up what he was planning to say in the first place and fires back with: “Brad, believe me, if someone made love to you the way Sophia’s just made love to me you’d know that the last thing she has on her mind is a visa.”

That’s enough for Brad’s cheeks to go the same color as his salmon pink shirt, and for everyone else to stare at us with their mouth’s wide open. I couldn’t have wished for a better response.

“More drinks”, Marshall says cheerily, calling an end to the inquisition. “It’s not everyday that sofa gets re-christened, after all.”

We move from the bar when a table comes available with enough space on it we can fit everyone around. Ryan squeezes in between Paul and me, with Marshall on my other side.

I should probably wait, but it’s noisy enough in here that I feel like I can get away with it. I twist myself towards Ryan and press my lips to his ear. “That was perfect”, I say, and squeeze his thigh.

Ryan responds by pushing back my hair and moving his mouth to my ear. “That wasn’t a lie”, he says, my wrist gathered in his closed hand. “And I can’t tell you how much I—.”

“Guys”, Tracy says, feigning anger, “didn’t anyone ever tell you that whispering was rude? We’re supposed to be here as a group.”

“Sorry, Tracy”, Ryan says reluctantly, shifting himself back into a more appropriate position, that bulge in his trousers a little bigger than I think it was before. “You were saying.”

“I wasn’t saying anything”, Tracy says. “But that’s not the point.”

“Oh, right”, Ryan says, reaching for his drink with a confused look on his face. “Want to do that again”, he says quietly to me, while Tracy’s attention is distracted by someone squeezing past the table behind her.

“I think I might call it a night after this”, I say, keen to find an excuse to get out of here and get Ryan back home and into my bed. Plus, if we are going to get married tomorrow, Ryan’s going to need to find his suit, while I want to make sure I’ve got the right outfit on. I’m not bothered about a white wedding dress, but I do want to look my best.

“Nooo”, Marshall complains, “You can’t leave us yet, we’ve barely had time to breakdown the evening’s performance, or the play. Plus you’ve only had one drink, that’s nowhere near enough for your health.”

“I might call it a night as well”, Ryan says, his hand searching for mine underneath the table.

“I’ve got to go through all of the rest of the boxes I’ve left at my parents house before they chuck away my original star wars toys.”

By the way he squeezes my hand, I know what he really means by that is spend all morning in bed with me, getting up only when it’s entirely necessary to drink coffee, shower, and eat, and then after that, head down to the city clerk’s office with Alex in tow to sign a piece of paper that says we’re getting married. If he doesn’t mean that, of course, I’ll make sure he changes his mind later on.

“Me too”, Paul adds. “Not the boxes and the star wars toys, my parents got rid of those a long time ago. The calling it a night. I’m absolutely shattered.”

Marshall twists so quickly towards him he nearly knocks a table full of glasses over. “You know when I was your age”, he says. “I was up on stage all night, double performances it was of course back then, and then we’d be in the Rum and Ruin on a lock in until four o’clock in the morning. We’d get breakfast at Jack’s cafe and get back into the theatre for nine. You kids don’t know how to do it these days.”

“I do”, Brad says, holding up his empty glass.

“Whether that’s true or not”, Paul says, “I’m going to have to call it there. I’ll miss the subway if I don’t.”

“Get a taxi”, Marshall orders.

“I could do that if you increased my wages a little bit”, Paul says, already buttoning up his coat.

“Not enough money in the budget for that, I’m afraid”, Marshall says. “As much as I’d love to.”

Paul leaving gives us both a perfect excuse to get going too. I stand up and essentially make Ryan join me. It’s a little awkward standing up in the middle of everyone who is still sat down around us, but if we don’t go now, we might not get an easier opportunity.

“You two aren’t going as well?” Marshall says, with a sigh of disappointment.

“Sorry, Marshall”, I say, not sorry at all. “I’m pretty tired after tonight.”

“Is that after the play or after the sofa?” Marshall jokes.

I ignore it and move towards Tracy, who is blocking our escape route and making no effort to move. Eventually, when I start moving the table myself, she finally gets it and twists herself around so we can both slide out.

We stand for a while on the outside of the circle, all eyes upon us.

“I guess we’ll see you all tomorrow”, I say. “Don’t drink too much, remember we’ve got five performances left.”

Ryan squeezes my hand, sending a buzz of energy through my body. I can hardly believe that not only am I taking him home, not only is that okay with both of us and everyone else here, there is every chance that we are going to repeat more than just once what we’ve already done tonight to a level of perfection I didn’t even realize could exist. I may be his fake girlfriend, but these feelings are definitely for real, and if Ryan’s as horny as I am, it’s going to take a superhuman level of resistance to stop ourselves from tearing each other’s clothes off even before we make it into the apartment.

“Don’t fuck each other on the way home”, Marshall says, “or do, I don’t care. Just make sure you’re not late tomorrow.”

“Goodnight everyone”, Ryan says, and together, before anyone has a chance to call us back, we quickly head for the door.