Double Feature

A MFM Ménage Romance

By Daphne Dawn

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work is intended for adults only.

Daphne Dawn

Kayla

I squeeze my stress ball in total frustration. What has happened to the day? About an hour ago, after my usual morning jog, I felt like I could take on the world.

I was ready to put fingers to keyboard and watch the words fly onto the screen, but now I’m sitting in my office, and nothing is happening.

My gaze travels, and I contemplate the elaborate certificate displaying my name and its various meanings, a present from my mother some years ago—one she bought during her travels to Cairo. It used to be at home, but when I took this job, with my own office and view, I decided to hang it up at work.

According to the elaborate gold-lettered writing, Kayla has several different meanings, depending on what country you look to. To some, it means “wise one.”

I have to say…I don’t feel particularly wise this morning. Time’s ticking, and I’m not producing.

With a sigh, I randomly hit some keys on my keyboard so my screen no longer looks so white and empty.

As I bring my coffee to my lips, I cringe. Can the day get any worse? I hate cold coffee.

I bite my bottom lip.

I haven’t produced anything this morning, and I cannot justify a coffee break already. My eyes look at the little clock in the top right-hand corner of my computer. Maybe if I write for thirty minutes, I can reward myself with a break and get a fresh, strong, and hot coffee.

My fingers hover over the keyboard. I don’t know how long they stay there without moving. With a sigh, I rummage around the top drawer of my desk, looking for a notepad.

Sometimes words seem to flow faster and better if I use the old-fashioned writing tools: pen and paper.

Slowly I unscrew the top of my gold nib fountain pen. I draw a few swirly lines to make sure there is still ink in it. Good, no further excuses.

Part of me had hoped that lack of ink would mean I’d have to duck out and buy some more. But alas, I really have run out of stalling tactics.

And so I let the pen do the work. Suddenly, a few scenes come to mind, and I make random notes.

“Good to see you working, baby cakes.”

I cringe and look up, my pen stopping midword. The last word now looks more like a drunken spider walked across my page, and I curse Ed quietly.

“Don’t call me that,” I say and look up.

“They still make pens, huh?” Ed ignores my comment and comes up to my desk, sitting on the edge of it. He takes the pen out of my hand and pretends to examine it.

“Or is this one a relic from the last century?”

Instead of a reply, I pull the pen out of his hand and screw the top back on.

“Only people who’ve been taught the craft of writing know how to use one of these,” I pause before I continue. “Oh, I forgot, you weren’t taught the craft of writing.”

Ed is the one reason my job is harder than it should be. Ed is the bane of my existence at the moment.

He ignores my comment and throws some papers onto my desk.

“Some notes for you for the second half of the season. I thought I better give you a hand, since you are new to this gig.”

If I could, I’d like to wipe that smug look off his milky face. Ed, as far as I’m concerned, is the opposite of sex appeal. His skin’s so pasty, I wonder if he ever goes outdoors.

The expensive designer suits do nothing for his short stature and thin body. Exercise isn’t high on Ed’s agenda as well. Even the mere thought of seeing Ed in shorts and a T-shirt makes me want to throw up.

Knowing Ed expects me to look at what he has given me, I randomly scan the pages.

I read a paragraph here and there, and then I feel the world turn upside down. Is he serious?

“You want me to do what?” I know my voice is no longer cool, calm, and collected; it probably rose an octave or two despite my best endeavor to sound perfectly in control.

“What’s the matter, baby cakes? Not up to the challenge?”

Ed has picked up my stress ball and looks at it.

“What do you do with this?”

“I told you not to call me that,” I hiss at him.

Lines have to be drawn. Ed’s taking way too many liberties with me. Producer or not, I’m still the head writer.

Slow down, my inner voice tries to warn me. Think before you speak. You are still new to this game. You are not quite there yet to throw your weight around.

“So you want me to kill one of the lead characters?” I ask, just to make sure I calm down a little.

Ed nods. “Sure, what’s wrong with that?”

I take a deep breath in before slowly exhaling. Deep breathing helps me to calm down.

“I think it’s too early in the show to kill one of the three brothers.” I pause and think. “The show is about three brothers. What’s the point of killing one of them already?”

Although, as I think about Ian’s performance the other day, I’m tempted to grab this golden opportunity and kill him. It would almost be a pleasure.

As I dwell on this, I start warming to the idea. Ian, if I am brutally honest, is hopeless.

“Don’t be silly,” Ed’s voice stops me midthought.

“What’d you mean?” I must have missed something.

“The killing thing. People love to see someone get killed off. It brings ratings. You’ll see.”

I’m still not convinced. Something doesn’t sound right about this. And why, as head writer, do I not get a say in this?

“But the show has only been going for one season. I can’t see the point in killing one of the key characters already.” I try and make my point. “I don’t want to kill one of them already. Maybe later, maybe when the time’s right.”

“You need to kill one of them.” Ed sounds firmer now as though no further discussion will be entered into. “The network expects it, and don’t forget who’s funding this project and with it, your job.”

His words feel like a threat. My heart beats a little faster. I don’t want to lose this job.

“Looks like I don’t have a choice then, do I?” I mutter and try to hide my disappointment. I had different views of how the story should progress, and it didn’t involve killing one of my characters.

“Of course you have a choice, baby cakes.” Ed is smiling his sleazy, slimy smile now. “You always have a choice.”

Puzzled, I look at him.

“You can choose which one to kill off.”

I prick my ears, and my mood lightens just a little.

Ian, I will kill Ian.

While his character is a great character, Ian as an actor is hopeless. I can’t understand how he has gotten as far in the acting world as he has.

“I–” I start, but it’s as if Ed has read my mind. He interrupts me.

“You can kill any of them…except Ian.”

Openmouthed, I stare at Ed. Did he really just say I can’t kill Ian? Where’s my choice then?

Before I can say anything else, Ed’s mobile interrupts the two of us. Without another word, he leaves my office, mouthing something like “got to take this.”

When the door shuts behind him, I feel like screaming, but I refrain myself. Swear words leave my mouth, and I pick up my stress ball. Instead of squeezing it, I throw it at the large window looking out over Venice Beach.

I push my chair back and go to retrieve my stress ball. I don’t go back to my desk straightaway. Instead, I lean my forehead on the glass and stare at the people lying on the beach, playing beach volleyball, jogging, and walking.

Do those people, some of whom no doubt watch my show The Kings , really want one of the brothers killed?

And if so, why can’t it be Ian? Ian’s the weakest out of the trio. He has nothing on Brad and Scott. Why is Ian “off-limits,” as Ed put it?

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s because Ed’s got a thing for Ian…but I know that’s not the case.

In the end, I walk back to my desk and try one more time to start writing. I put the whole “getting rid of one my lead characters” to one side.

Unfortunately, I cannot think of anything other than Ed’s words.

“Ian is off-limits.”

Brad

“The director’s wife apparently has an affair with—”

“I don’t care,” I say, my sneakers hitting the hard concrete at a fast clip. I can hear Shauna huffing and puffing behind me as she tries to keep the pace, but I try to keep the focus on my own breathing.

Having a personal assistant is fine, but I just hate it when she insists on following after me during my morning runs. Can’t a guy have a moment’s rest?

According to Shauna, no—an actor should always be kept in the loop. Of course, that means she’s always trying to tell me about the latest gossip in the industry.

Now I always know who’s cheating on who.

“Oh, but this is important because—”

“Shauna, seriously,” I tell her, slowing down my pace and looking back at her over my shoulder. Her cheeks are flushed, long locks of hair are already plastered to her face, and heavy beads of sweat are trailing down her cheeks.

I always feel bad whenever she tries to keep up with me, but what can I do? She’s the one who insists on coming.

“What?” she asks me, and then she stops, bending over and placing her hands on her knees. She takes deep breaths, her cheeks becoming more flushed by the second, and I stop my run and walk back to her.

“You okay?”

“I’m…I’m fine,” she breathes out, standing up straight, her cellphone still in her hand. “I was just trying to keep you up-to-date.”

“Being up-to-date is fine,” I reply. “But that doesn’t mean you have to tell me every single piece of gossip you hear on the internet.”

“Oh, I know that. It’s just that you never know what might be important,” she tells me, distractedly scrolling through the newsfeed on her phone. I doubt she heard a word of what I just said.

“Shouldn’t you be acting as my filter? You’re supposed to tell me only the important things.” I place my hands on my hips, looking at her as she keeps her gaze fixed on her phone.

Fucking hell, I almost want to take the phone out of her hands and smash it to pieces.

I love Shauna to bits—she’s the best personal assistant I’ve ever had, and she’s always on top of every little thing—but she seems like a drug addict when it comes to the internet. I don’t think I can remember a single time where she didn’t have her phone in her hands.

“Oh god,” she suddenly whispers, raising her eyes from the phone for the first time in a minute. “This is big.”

“What’s big?” I ask her, cocking one eyebrow. Probably someone important having an affair.

Everyone in Hollywood seems to be having an affair. Maybe someone should write a column about that—Cheater of the Week or something.

“I’m serious, Brad,” she insists, and this time I actually believe she has something interesting for me. The look in her eyes tells me she’s worried, and it’s never a good thing when Shauna’s worried. It usually means that there’s trouble on the horizon.

“C’mon, tell me,” I insist, resisting the urge to simply take the phone out of her hands and see with my own eyes what got her that worried.

“Apparently, a rumor surfaced on the web about the second season of The Kings ,” she finally starts, her thumb slowly sliding over the screen of her phone.”

“We’re not getting axed, are we? I mean, the ratings were through the roof last season—”

“It’s not that.” She cuts me short with a wave of her hand. “Apparently, one of the leads is going to be killed off this season.”

“What the fuck?” I ask her in disbelief. That doesn’t make any fucking sense.

The whole premise of the show involves three brothers battling it out for the family’s fortune (and the heart of one girl), so why the hell would the production kill off one of the main characters during the second season?

“That’s what everyone’s commenting on,” Shauna shrugs, furiously scrolling through the comments on the article she’s reading. “And the studio has decided not to comment on the issue, stating that creatively speaking, all choices are valid.”

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“It’s not that bad. This is creating a lot of buzz. Ratings are going to be through the roof once the second season starts.”

“Yeah, right. But what if I’m the one being killed off?” I ask her, pursing my lips as I consider the implications. A show like The Kings offers a straight path to money and critical acclaim—it is, after all, one of these once-in-a-lifetime productions—and I sure as hell don’t want to have my head chopped off during the second season while Ian and Scott stick around to reap the rewards.

“I need to do something,” I tell Shauna without waiting for her reply. “I can’t stand around with my hands in my pockets while someone decides my fate.”

“Maybe you could talk with Ed?”

“Ed?” Right, like that asshole would ever hear me out.

He only cares about one thing, and that’s the studio bottom line. He’d happily kill every single character and replace them with pink CGI unicorns if that meant his wallet would keep on growing fatter.

“No, I can’t speak with Ed,” I finally say.

“Then what about Kayla?”

“Kayla?”

“Yeah, I know you’ve had your eye on her for a while now,” Shauna comments, her lips curling into a teasing grin.

Shit, is it that obvious? Maybe it is, I guess. After all, what kind of guy wouldn’t have his sights set on a woman like Kayla?

Kayla’s smart (you don’t get to be head writer of a show like The Kings just because you look good) and she’s a stunner.

There’s a sweetness to her eyes, and her lips seem to have the perfect shape for kissing. And when she walks, the sway of her perfect hips always makes my cock twitch inside my pants. I don’t even know how many times I’ve wondered how it’d feel to have her naked body pressed against mine.

“Maybe it’s time you make your move. Get into her good graces, and maybe she won’t chop your head off,” she tells me, making a dramatic gesture as she runs one thumb over her neck.

“Jesus fuck, Shauna. You really know how to cheer a guy up.” I sigh heavily, run one hand through my hair, and then look straight into Shauna’s eyes. “Alright, what’s the game plan?”

“Well.” She chuckles. “Time for you to realize that knowing everything about everything pays off.”

“Spit it out, Shauna. My career is on the line.”

“Alright, so…Organic Express delivers Kayla’s lunch every day, and she always eats in her office alone. That’s her routine, and she doesn’t deviate from it.”

“Well, I guess she won’t be eating alone today then.”

Scott

Jab, jab, right hook.

I land each one of my punches, and Chris tries to bob his head from side to side aimlessly, struggling to keep standing. Despite his experience inside the boxing ring, he’s no match for me – especially when I’m pissed.

“Jesus, fuck, man!” He breathes out through his mouthpiece, his words coming at me slurred and confused. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You told me you wanted to spar,” I shrug. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“You’re not sparring,” he protests, lowering his arms and spitting it out his mouthpiece. “You’re trying to fucking murder me.”

Harsh words, especially coming from Chris. He has been my personal trainer since forever, and I don’t remember him ever saying something like that. Yeah, I guess I’m feeling particularly pissed off today.

“Sorry, man,” I sigh, taking off my gloves and letting them fall to the mat. I walk to the corner and sit down on the small bench, taking a bottle of water from one of the guys watching our sparring session – or my murder attempt, as Chris put it.

“What is it? A woman? Work?” He asks me, walking up to me and placing his back against the rope. I hand him the bottle and he empties it fast.

“Just work, I guess,” I reply, running one hand through my sweat-soaked hair.

“Well, shit, let’s hit the heavy bag then,” he tells me, jumping out from the ring.

Groaning, I get up from the bench and follow after him, fully knowing that almost everyone in this fucking gym is staring at me. I’m used to it by now, but this time is different – I was really putting on a show inside the ring, throwing the hardest punches I could at Chris.

“Want to get your gloves back?” He asks me as he steps behind the heavy bag, grabbing it with both hands.

“Nah, I’ll just go with the hand straps.”

I need to feel the punches, even if I scrap my knuckles. I need to release all this fucking tension, even if that means my hands will be sore for the next couple of days.

Nodding at Chris, I then start throwing jab after jab at the heavy bag. He groans with every single punch I land, grimacing as he tries to stop the heavy bag from swaying back and forth.

“What’s happening at work? It sure got you rattled,” he asks me through his gritted teeth, pushing his shoulder against the bag.

“Some fucking asshole…has decided to…kill off a main character,” I tell him between punches, barely blinking as I keep my eyes trained on the heavy bag, imagining the face of some anonymous producer in there.

Who the fuck decides to kill off a main character in a show that’s a hit? The Kings is the most hyped up show on TV, and now that we’ve started shooting the second season I start hearing all these rumors. It doesn’t make any fucking sense.

“So what? Do you think you’ll be the one getting killed off?”

“I sure hope not,” I reply, throwing a hook so hard at the bag that Chris groans as if he was the one taking the hit. “The Kings is killing it, you know? We’ve got the ratings; we’ve got the critical acclaim. We have it all, man. I can feel it, whoever’s in this project will make a killing.”

“Curious choice of words,” Chris snorts, but I shut him up really fast. Digging my right heel onto the floor, I twist my hips fast and send my right fist flying against the bag. The impact is so strong that Chris lets go of the bag and stumbles back, a surprised expression on his face.

“Shit,” he laughs, “you’re not fucking around, are you? You really want to stay in the show.”

“Of course.” I stop for a moment, catching my breath and wiping the sweat off my brow. “I have the money, but I want something more, you know? I want to be recognized. I want to do something great. And I can do that in this show…unless they fucking kill me off, that is.”

“Well, shit, can’t you talk to anyone?”

“Like who? That shithead producer, Ed? Yeah, right,” I reply, now imagining Ed’s face on the heavy bag. That fucking idiot was probably the one pitching that stupid idea. He probably wants to start cutting costs, and while we’re still at ground level.

“There’s gotta be someone,” Chris insists, and I suddenly realize that he’s right. There’s someone, alright.

“Maybe,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. There’s someone that might be capable of helping me…someone with real power on the show. “There’s Kayla.”

“The writer? She’s the one penning your scripts, right?”

“Yeah, she’s the head writer for the show. You know her?”

“Of course,” he laughs, perhaps noticing the hopeful expression that must be plastered on my face. “I’ve trained her a few times. She’s a cool girl. And hot too.”

“That’s right,” I nod, Kayla the only thing on my mind right now.

I don’t know her that well – I just talked to her the few times she decided to show up on set – but she sure as hell left an impression whenever we talked. It’s not just that she’s got the perfect lips and curves; she’s smart too. I mean, she has to be smart to write something as great as The Kings .

“So, talk to her, man. She’s the head writer, she must have the power to save your ass.”

“Yeah, I just gotta find an opportunity. I can’t exactly swing by her office, go down to my knees and beg,” I tell him, my mind racing as I try to think of something.

“That’s easy. Kayla always goes for a run in the Canyon during the weekends. Saturdays and Sundays. All you gotta do is make sure you’re there.”

“Shit, are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Well, game on then.

Brad

“Hold on,” I tell the delivery guy as he strolls through the gates, cradling a plastic bag to his chest. He’s wearing a green cap and jacket, the Organic Express logo plastered all over his clothes, and there’s an anxious expression in his face.

He wasn’t expecting someone to stop him.

“I’m making a delivery for Kayla, the writer for—”

“The Kings ,” I finish his sentence for him, stepping right in front of him and flashing him my best actor’s smile.

The moment he realizes that he’s face-to-face with one of The Kings ’ main actors, his jaw almost drops to the floor.

“Oh, shit,” he mutters in disbelief, almost dropping the bag he’s holding.

“Whoa, careful,” I tell him, reaching for the bag before it slides off from his arms. “You don’t want to ruin Kayla’s lunch.”

“No, I don’t want to ruin Kayla’s lunch,” he repeats after me, his tone of voice so monotone that I feel like a Jedi master implanting thoughts on unsuspecting citizens.

Sometimes being a famous actor has its perks.

“Actually, why don’t I take care of it for you? I’ll deliver lunch for her,” I continue, now transitioning into my no-really-I’m-a-nice-guy smile.

“Er,” he starts, scratching the side of his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m not supposed to do that. Company’s policy, ya know? I’m supposed to deliver the food to Kayla, not anyone else.

“C’mon, man.” I laugh. “What do ya think I’m gonna do with this? Poison her? She’s my writer. I need her.”

“Yeah, but still,” he continues, shifting his weight from foot to foot. I need to convince him to let me do the delivery—that’s my in with Kayla, and I’m not going to let it go to waste, whatever it takes.

“Seriously,” I start, taking one step toward him and laying one hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you have a lot of deliveries to make today, and you don’t need to walk across the whole studio lot just to deliver this.” I hold the food bag in front of his face for a second. “I’ve got it covered.”

“I don’t know…” he whispers, taking his cap off and running his tongue between his lips. He looks uncomfortable, torn between doing what some big shot TV star tells him to do and obeying his company policy.

Maybe I can help in his little dilemma.

“Alright, man,” I tell him, stealing the cap off his hands and grabbing the pen he has tucked in his breast pocket. Holding the cap in the same hand I’m holding the food bag, I scribble my name across it and then hand it over.

“Oh, shit,” he whistles, his eyes widening as he looks at my autograph. The kid’s a fan, that much I can tell.

Maybe I can make him even more of a fan.

Reaching inside my back pocket, I grab my wallet and take two one-hundred-dollar bills from the inside. I fold them up and then tuck them inside his breast pocket before he can stop me.

“Just a tip,” I say. “I know you’ve been coming here every day since shooting started, and I want to know we all appreciate your hard work. Take the rest of the day off if you can. Treat your girl to dinner.”

Is this how it feels to fucking bribe someone? Because I feel like Al Capone patting a dirty cop on the head.

Although, yeah, I doubt Al Capone would bother with bribing the delivery guy from Organic Express.

“Thank you,” the delivery kid finally responds, rocking back on his heels and putting his cap on. “I really, really appreciate it!”

I offer him my hand then and give him a firm handshake, my you’re-welcome smile now plastered on my lips. Yeah, I have a lot of different smiles, and they all serve a purpose.

“Well, shit. I pulled it off,” I whisper to myself as I watch the delivery guy turning on his heels and marching back out the studio gates. I stand there, watching him get inside his van and leave while I balance the food bag on one hand.

Taking a deep breath, I turn around and start making my way toward Kayla’s office. I’ve never been there, as the head writer’s usually someone distant from day-to-day production, but now’s the time to get to know Kayla a little better.

My fate hangs in her hands after all.

Three minutes later and I’m standing outside her office, my right hand hovering over the door. I rap my knuckles against it and then perk up my ears as I wait for her reply.

“Come in!” she shouts from the inside, and I reach for the door’s handle immediately. “Just on time. I’m so hungry that I—”

“Yeah?” I chuckle, strolling inside her office and putting down her food bag on top of her desk. I look into her eyes, enjoying the way surprise has made her choke on her words.

She wasn’t expecting to see me here. Why would she?

“When did you get into the food delivery game?” She chuckles softly, tucking a lock of hair over her ear. Even though she sounds upbeat, I notice there are bags under her eyes (ones she has tried to conceal with her makeup), and her forehead is creased.

More than just stressed, she looks overworked.

“I’m a man of many talents.” I laugh, trying to get her mind off whatever’s worrying her. I don’t know why I’m doing this—it has nothing to do with wanting my character to stay alive. It’s just an urge to make her laugh and smile.

“Besides,” I continue, trying to keep my focus, “I might need to keep my options open.”

“Oh, so you’ve heard of it?” she asks me, reaching inside the bag and taking the small carton boxes from the inside.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” I reply, and then I sit on the director’s chair she has next to her desk.

I might stay here a while.

Kayla

As I stare at Brad, who has made himself comfortable in my director’s chair, my nerve cells tingle ever so slightly. He certainly is a bit of eye candy. Nothing wrong with looking , I tell myself before I open my lunch pack.

Since starting on this project, I order my lunch from the same place every day. I’m almost sorry Brad brought it in today as I always enjoy the little banter young JD and I have. Of course, I know his name is not really JD; I just call him that because he does remind me a little of the legendary actor of the same initial.

And, of course, I love the way the young man turns bright red whenever I call him JD.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

Brad’s voice brings me back to reality.

I hope I’m not blushing now. There’s no way I’m going to confess I was just thinking about the young delivery boy. LOL.

Ah, hell, now I’m thinking in acronyms.

“Work.” I’m not a very good liar, so being vague is the best way to deal with it. I was sort of thinking about work.

“That bad?”

For a second, I think I can hear real concern in Brad’s voice. I revel in it.

I can’t recall the last time someone was concerned for me.

I weigh up my answer. Should I be truthful? Some people believe you have to maintain a professional relationship with the actors, and therefore you never confide too much in them…or anybody for that matter.

“Sort of.” I’m still not sure how much I should tell him.

I wonder what the reason was for his appearance today with my lunch. And what exactly has he done to persuade JD not to come up and deliver lunch himself?

“It’s a tough gig, isn’t it?” Brad prods. “Writing, I mean. It must be hard.”

I sigh. I so want to talk about this with someone.

To stall, I busy myself with my lunch. I spread out the serviette before I put the tub of salad on top of it. Occasionally, I glance at Brad, who has one leg crossed over the other.

Briefly, I imagine running my hands over the muscles in his chest before letting them wander down his back.

I must really stop my imagination from running away with me. I’m at work, not at home.

“Can be,” I eventually answer and take a forkful of quinoa salad.

“I reckon it must even be harder if you are woman.” There’s a deliberate pause, and I feel my heartbeat quicken as I wait for what else he’s going to say. “Particularly such an attractive and sexy woman as you.”

Despite my best effort, I’m sure my cheeks are a little red.

“I bet you say that to all the women,” I say before I can stop myself.

What is wrong with me? Where’s my word filter? I never say these things.

Brad chuckles. The sound of his warm, hearty laughter provokes a longing in me I haven’t felt in a long time. If I’m honest, I can’t ever recall feeling something quite like this before.

I study his rugged features. He really is a spunk. And he’s got muscles too.

“I’m not shallow,” he replies and winks at me. “I mean what I say. Nothing wrong telling a woman she’s beautiful when she is.” He pauses, and my breathing has increased a little as if I’ve jogged up and down the hallway.

“And,” he continues, now leaning a little toward me, “nothing wrong in telling her she’s sexy, if she is. And you are sexy.”

Now my nerve endings are tingling in anticipation. It takes all my self-control not to go and rip his shirt open and start kissing his chest.

Stay cool , I think to myself and smile. I nod in a graceful thank-you gesture, like one of those old-fashioned movie divas. At least I hope that’s what my gesture looks like.

I take another forkful of my salad.

“It’s a good show, you know.” Brad is leaning back in the director’s chair again, with his right leg now at an angle over his left one. He’s the picture of relaxation.

If I were an artist, I would paint him in this posture, naked.

I try not to smile from ear to ear. Brad has paid me another compliment. None of the other actors have done so.

“Do you really think so?” I search in his eyes for mocking, but can’t see it.

“I do, Kayla. I’ve worked on a few shows, but I’m really enjoying this one. I enjoy working with you.”

I swallow the lump that has suddenly appeared in the back of my throat. He could just be saying this because he’s worried about being killed off.

“And I’m not just saying it to get you to keep me in the show.” He winks at me as if he can read my mind. “Although, you know, I would do what it takes…” He leaves the sentence unfinished, a delicious grin on his lips.

It’s my turn to laugh. He really is a very good actor, or a real charmer.

“I have to say, so far I have enjoyed writing the episodes.” I decide to open up just a little.

Brad’s brow furrows just a little.

“So far? Something changed?”

Not only is he good-looking, charming, and entertaining, he is also perceptive.

My left hand brushes through my hair as I sigh.

“I suppose every job has its good and bad days, and today’s a bit of a bad day.”

His left eyebrow rises just a little, but he says nothing.

“I love writing. I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and I think this could be my big break into the screen world.” I pause and take a sip of my coffee.

Boy, this is good. “And I don’t want to stuff it up,” I add.

When I finish my little unburdening, it’s as if a weight has been lifted off my chest.

“Who says you’re going to stuff up?” Brad sounds genuinely concerned.

I decided he’s not acting. He sounds too interested.

“No one yet. But this killing off scene has me worried. It doesn’t feel right, and I see a different potential in the show. I think it needs to go in a different direction.”

Brad studies me. As his eyes slowly travel over my face and down to my chest, I feel as if he is undressing me, slowly, deliberately.

Part of me is tempted to check if my blouse is still buttoned up to the second button from the top, but I resist the urge. It feels incredibly sensual.

Desire sweeps through me like a wildfire.

His eyes find mine again. He smiles at me.

“I think you’re a good writer.” He holds up his hand. “No, I think you’re a great writer. And I think you are good for the show. You have written fantastic stuff for all of us. You even managed to write lines Ian couldn’t stuff up.”

At the mention of Ian, Ed’s words come back. "Ian’s off-limits.”

I toy with the idea of sharing Ed’s words with Brad, but I decide against it. I barely know him, or his intentions. Although I wouldn’t mind betting his intentions right now were only on one thing.

And strangely, I don’t mind.

“Thanks,” I mumble, not sure what else to say.

“Kayla.” His voice sounds a little more serious. “Whatever happens, this show won’t ruin you. Even if you don’t agree with what is being asked of you, I know you’ll turn it into something great. That’s what great writers do—they turn ordinary stuff into extraordinary things.”

For a few minutes—okay, maybe seconds—we stare at each other. I lick my lips, thinking that if he was to rip my clothes off here and now, I wouldn’t stop him.

“Of course, I still don’t think you should kill me.” Brad breaks the silence first. “Kill Ian,” he quips, and I cannot help but laugh.

A glance at the time signals I must get back to work. I pack my half-finished lunch back into the bag. Leftovers for dinner.

Brad watches my every move. I like his eyes. They are intense, sincere, and truthful.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I reply and make sure my voice has a playful undertone.

“I’m just kidding, Kayla.” Brad is getting ready to leave. “I didn’t come here to beg. I just wanted to enjoy the company of the talented, gorgeous, and sexy head writer of the show.”

I smile. He makes his way to leave my office.

“Pity you didn’t get to eat anything,” I say, and my eyes are downcast as I speak, emphasis on eat .

It takes Brad less than two steps before he has his hands on my hips, and his lips are searching for mine.

Our mouths melt together. He pushes his tongue past my lips and searches for mine. I respond and lean into him.

His hands travel to my back. They briefly rest just above the dimples I have there, and they go for my ass.

What am I doing?

Brad

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

But it’s not like I could help myself. The sound of her voice, the shape of her lips, the scent of her perfume…everything in her reeled me in, and I had no other option but to go right ahead and kiss her.

She’s standing up now, and as our kiss grows fiercer, our tongues dancing with each other, I place my hands on her hips and force her to spin around. I push her against the wall, her back turned to me, and then I slowly begin to kiss her neck, caressing her breasts over the fabric of her dress.

I can feel her breathing growing harder and harder; her eyes closed, her face tilted sideways toward my lips, and her hands on the wall. The taste of her body makes my brain start to overheat and, at the same time, my cock becomes as hard as concrete.

Looking at her in such a vulnerable position, I just want to lift her dress, push her underwear to the side and slide my cock deep into her pussy in a single thrust.

I grab her by the hair, making her turn around to me. I want to fuck her so hard, I can´t think of anything else.

Pushing her back against the wall once more, I rest my hands over her breasts and squeeze them hard; as I do it, she takes her own hands to her shoulders and pushes the front of her dress down, the outer edges of her bra revealing themselves to me.

Opening my right hand, I hook my fingers on the cup of her bra and tug on it softly. The moment her rosy nipple jumps into sight, I feel a rush of boiling blood making its way down to my cock and I simply lose it. Grabbing her half-naked breast, I lean in and wrap my lips around her hard nipple, sucking it into my mouth and running circles around her rosy tip with my tongue.

Then I take her by the hand, leading her to her desk.

I force her to sit down, pushing away all the stuff lying there. Slowly, leaning toward her, I took my fingers on the hemline of her dress. I raise the fabric, counting my breaths as I bare her skin.

The moment I see the fabric of her thong, I simply lose it – I dive forward, pressing my mouth against her wetness, and I suck on it hard. Then, before I know what the fuck I’m doing, I bite at the drenched fabric of her thong and start taking it off her.

Exposing her wet pussy, I press my fingers over her clit, and she opens her mouth and moans. Oh, and she´s moaning hard. I’m not simply rubbing her, or tapping my finger against her clit – no, I know what I’m doing and what kind of reaction I want out of her. I rub the tip of my finger around her clit and then press it from above, indirectly.

Letting go of her clit, I go down to her inner lips, gently parting them with my finger as I go up and down her pussy. I let my finger go inside her just an inch, and her whole body tenses up, waiting for me to go all in.

I take my time, though, slowly letting my finger in as if I have all the time in the world. I push it in gently, curling it upwards and rubbing her from the inside.

I then slide another finger inside her pussy and increase the pace, sliding in and out her faster and harder. She starts to scream while, at the same time, I go back to her clit with the other hand, rubbing it with my fingers. She raises her thighs from the desk and starts thrusting against my hands, doing it as if her life depended on it.

“Don´t stop!” She screams, arching her back. Her body tenses up, and I can feel her inner walls tightening around my fingers; I can feel pleasure coursing through her veins, and next thing I know her moans are filling the entire office.

Still with her legs shaking, she slides off the desk and leans into me, her arms over my shoulders as her lips approach mine. She kisses me furiously, her tongue exploring my whole mouth. Then, she moves her lips to my ear, biting it gently.

“My turn now…” she whispers with a grin on her face.

Kayla’s hands leave my shoulders and go straight to my belt. Grabbing at it harshly, she unbuckles it, pulling it from the loops in my pants. She continues, undoing the top button of my pants. Then, she grabs the zipper, pulling it all the way down with one single movement.

Her lustful eyes go straight to my crotch, my cock straining against the fabric of my boxer briefs, waiting to spring free.

“You want this, don’t you?” She breathes out, slowly going down to her knees, her eyes never leaving mine. Her hands go down the side of my body, and she locks her fingers on my boxer briefs before tugging them down.

My cock jumps up to salute her, and she moves fast – she curls the fingers of her right hand around my shaft, and then she leans in and takes me inside her mouth.

She pushes herself down until her lips touch the skin at the base of my cock, its tip already pressed against the back of her throat, and she holds it there. She keeps my whole cock inside of her mouth until she can no longer do it. Only then does she roll her lips back up my shaft, slowly moving them until they’re wrapped tight around the tip of my cock.

She goes all the way back up, and her lips smack together as my cock pops out of her mouth. Then, she tilts her head sideways and, with her lips pressed against the side of my shaft, she brushes them down until her mouth is on my balls. She grabs my boxers again and, tugging hard on them, she sends them down with my pants to my ankles.

“Keep going…” I groan, tangling my fingers on her hair.

Kayla looks up at me and, as she does it, she parts her lips and laps at one of my balls with her tongue. She moves to the next one, repeating her motions.

Pulling back, she opens her mouth as wide as she can and, cupping both my balls with one hand, and sucks them both inside of her mouth. She goes back to the tip of my cock then, her lips and tongue tracing an upward line over my shaft, and she fits my cock in her mouth once more.

Every single cell in my body demanding to fuck her, I make her stop. I tangle my fingers on her hair and push her back until all of my cock pops out of her mouth.

She grins back, and I simply look down at her.

She goes towards the wall, resting both her hands there, and spreads her legs wide as she stands. I come up behind her, my hand climbing up her legs and under her dress. I grab her ass, my fingertips going over her crack while I slide one finger in to rub her soaked pussy again.

Raising the hem of her dress, I press my body into her, my cock fitting perfectly between her ass cheeks. She grinds against me as if tomorrow will never come, making sure that my cock is as hard as it could possibly be.

I place one hand on her breasts, furiously grabbing at them and pinching her nipples between my fingers. The other hand goes around her waist, cupping her pussy, one finger placed over her clit.

I keep pressing my cock against her ass, the finger I have on her clit drawing a cascade of moans out of her. In a blinding motion I part her inner lips with my fingers and push my cock down and into her pussy. She juts her ass back at me at the same time, allowing my cock to slide inside her straining walls as it goes.

“Oh god…” she moans.

With my right hand I slap her ass and, all gentleness thrown to the curb, I start pounding her without a hint of mercy.

Kayla

Brad just keeps on thrusting, fucking me hard. His movements are so fast and vicious that I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

I tilt my head to the side, trying to look back at him over my shoulder.

“Harder,” I whisper between moans.

Obeying immediately, he starts to thrust with such a fury that I don´t know if my legs will keep me up much longer. At least my pussy is resilient.

God, he’s pounding me so hard that beads of sweat start sliding down my forehead. I open my mouth to scream, but all that leaves my lips is a faint croak of ecstasy; I come like that, barely able to utter a sound.

My pussy tightening around his cock, I come hard, all of me trembling as if I had a fever. And I might just as well have one, since I’m burning up. I feel my chin quivering as I try to breathe, all my muscles twitching and spasming as pure delight rages through me, flooding both my body and mind.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but I never came like this before. I’ve had orgasms before, yes, but what I’m experiencing goes far beyond that. A simple orgasm pales in comparison to what I’m feeling right now.

“Tired already?” he asks me, a wild grin dancing on his lips, softly kissing my neck as he pulls out.

“More,” I smile, suddenly feeling so spent that smiling is the only thing I can do.

Oh, yes, I want more…so much more. And I want it now.

I can barely believe that Brad’s in here with me…and more than that, he’s having me. Oh God, he’s doing so much more than just having me. He’s fucking me like no one ever did before, and I can´t fight against it!

I know I probably shouldn’t be doing this, but the desire that crawls under my skin is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt in my whole life. I know this is probably a mistake, but I can’t run away from what’s happening. I just can’t help myself.

“This is insane,” I tell him as I slide both of my hands down the side of my body, grabbing my dress. Swaying my hips from side to side, I send it down to my legs and then kick it up in the air; the fabric rises up, and then traces an upward arch before landing on the floor.

“Yeah, this is insane…and I love it,” he replies and, following my lead, he grabs his own shirt, pushing it down his arms and throwing it to the floor; it falls right on top of my dress.

He’s totally naked now, and he looks even better than everything I’ve imagined. Sure, I’ve seen some shirtless pictures of him before (and there was a scene during the first season where he was naked from the waist up), but none of that compares to being this close to him. There are ropes of muscle hiding under his taut skin, and everything in him seems to have been carved out by a master’s chisel.

Approaching him, I slowly press my hands against his abs, feeling their grooves and ridges. I kiss his stomach gently, my tongue caressing the outline of marble wall. I look up and there he is, smiling with his eyes closed, savoring my lips on his skin.

And then, going on my knees, I let my hands fall on his cock once again.

I’ve never sucked a man after having his cock inside me, but I guess this is a good time as any.

I don´t waste any time – parting my lips, I tilt my head sideways and lean into him. I rest my open mouth against his shaft and start slowly sucking his tip, closing my eyes as the raw manly scent of his cock mixed with the taste of my pussy climbs up to my brain.

I kiss the tip, parting my lips and licking it with slow deliberate circles. He moans as my lips engulf his tip, his warmth spreading to my lips.

My mouth goes forward in slow motion, my lips sliding down his shaft. I feel his hips pressing forward and, when his whole cock is in my mouth, his hands touch my head, grabbing it with firmness.

My tongue draws circles around his cock, right before I bob my head a couple times, his hardness dancing inside of my mouth, alive with raw desire.

I pull back from his cock then and, with cautious fingers, I start stroking his member.

“Come here,” he commands me.

Pulling me up, he lays me down on the top of the desk once more and climbs on top of me, hunched like a wild animal preparing to devour his prey. His chest touches mine, my breasts brushing against his soft cool skin.

I lace my legs around his waist, placing my right arm over his shoulder, my mind screaming at him to make me his, to subdue and dominate me. He kisses me again, his waist on mine.

I rest my trembling fingers against his chest and run them down his abs, each ridge and valley making my heart feel tighter inside my chest. I let my hand go lower, and only stop when I find the root of his cock; I curl my fingers around it and, pulling him in with the leg I have around his waist, I force the tip of his cock between my pussy lips.

I bite on my lower lip as I feel the tip of his cock against my drenched folds, but that’s everything I have the time to do; with one quick thrust he’s in me, his thick mast pushing its way past my inner lips and straining against my inner walls.

“So good,” I moan, pressing my forehead against his and smiling.

“It’s more than just good,” he says, rocking his hips and sliding his cock in and out of me.

My eyes are shut, and I’m clenching my teeth again. I wasn’t prepared for this. It’s simply too…good.

And it keeps getting better: as he thrusts, he keeps pressuring my clit, circling it steadily with his two fingers. With his free hand, he grabs my left breast and squeezes it, pinching my hard nipple between his thumb and index finger. I’m panting, my body swaying against his in waves.

I feel his whole body tensing up, but I don´t want him to come yet. And I can tell Brad doesn’t want to come as well…I mean, there´s still so much more to do.

He pulls out his cock and, with a kiss, he puts me down from the desk, my legs feeling weak the moment my feet touch the floor. But he gives me no time to catch my breath. His hands on my waist, he makes me turn around and face the wall once again.

I place my hands against the cold concrete at shoulder height, jutting my ass back toward him. A cry of pleasure leaves my lips as he smacks my ass hard with the back of his hand. Then he does it again. And again.

He does it until I’m gritting my teeth, the pain running through my nerves toward my brain – except the moment it gets there it has already been distilled into pleasure.

I let my head down, my hair falling over my shoulders and brushing against my breasts. His hands are now over my buttocks, squeezing them lightly. After the rough treatment, the gentle touch of his fingers feel like a blessing. The more his fingers caress me, the more they move toward the valley between my ass cheeks.

The moment he’s close enough, he takes his hands out of me and, with just one finger, he traces the line between my cheeks all the way to between my thighs. Then, turning his hand around, he keeps going. I swallow hard when his fingers go over my pussy lips, gently parting my folds.

He slides a finger inside me and I moan, my throat producing a sharp sound of pleasure. He starts fingering me then, his finger going in and out of my pussy fast.

Again and again, over and over.

Then, I feel two fingers inside me in a continuous movement, a game of in and out, and I struggle hard against the urge to moan as loud as I can.

Brad

She’s pressing her legs together and gritting her teeth, locking my hand into place as I finger her towards insanity. I start biting at her neck and, at the same time, I pinch her nipples with my free hand.

“It feels good,” she purrs, and I let go of her nipples. I spread her legs farther while I force her to bend over, her hands firmly pressed on the wall as she juts her ass back at me.

I breathe into her ear, grabbing my cock and pushing it down. I only let go of it when I feel it right on the gap between her thighs, her pussy lips brushing against my shaft. She goes on tiptoes, and all I have to do now is thrust…which, of course, is exactly what I do.

I go as hard as I can right from the beginning, grabbing her by the waist as I ram my cock inside her pussy. My thighs slap her ass cheeks feverishly, and the sound of flesh on flesh fills the entire office.

With the fingers of one hand buried in her ass cheeks, I slide my free hand around her waist and I stretch my fingers wide so that one of them is right above her clit, pressing and rubbing there as I keep on going at her mercilessly.

She starts pushing out her ass faster at me, a relentless rhythm I match as I thrust at her. Each time we do it, my cock goes deep inside her, forcing a throaty moan to escape her lips.

Holding her against the wall, I thrust my hips harder and harder, ramming my cock into her in such a way that I can’t help but wonder if her pussy can take such a beating. Judging by the way she’s moaning, I’d say it can. She screams once more as her pussy tightens around my cock, so hard it feels like a vice, and I continue thrusting as she comes.

She presses her head against the wall, moaning hard through her gritted teeth, and I hold my position as a violent orgasm ravages her delicate body.

Fuck, I knew that she was beautiful, but I had no idea she was this good when it came to sex. Oh, scratch that – she’s not good, she’s a fucking Goddess.

“Get over here,” I growl, sliding my cock out of her pussy. Before I even know what the fuck I’m doing, I grab her hand and pull her into me.

I go down to the floor, making her come after me. She comes willingly and, realizing what I want, she places her knees on either side of my head while I lay down on the floor. Lowering herself over my face, she rests her wet pussy right on my mouth, and I take my hands to her ass cheeks and push her further down.

With her pussy on my mouth, I react by instinct and open my mouth wide, using both my lips and tongue to ravage her wetness.

Swaying her hips rhythmically, she rubs her pussy against my face, slowly losing control. I hook my fingers on her hips, forcing her to press her pussy against my mouth, and I use my tongue to ravage her insides at the same time. I flick it up and down the length of her pussy, always making sure to take care of her clit, and she rewards me with a string of generous moans.

Then, pulling out of my mouth, she slowly slides her body down mine, her lips tracing a downward line over my chest.

Guiding my shaft right where she needs it to be, she eases herself down, allowing my cock to pierce her. The moment she feels all of my inches buried deep inside her, she starts moving her hips back and forth in a flowing motion. She rides me fast and hard, her eyes closed as moans just tumble out of her lips.

I grab her ass cheeks and feel the movement of her body, placing my fingertips over her ass crack. I can notice her whole body shivering, so I spread her cheeks wider and start caressing the gap between them, moving one finger up and down.

As she jumps up and down and back and forth, the movement of her body grows even more violent. She´s truly driving me crazy as she rides me hard, straight into oblivion, finishing off with one sudden thrust.

I hold my position and the whole universe seems to explode inside her body, such is the heat coming from her skin. I can almost picture the fireworks going off behind her closed eyelids.

“Oh my God! That felt so good,” she says between moans, resting her head down on my chest.

“I’m not done with you yet,” I grin and, before she knows it, I push her to the floor and make her roll to the side. Pushing her knees apart, I settle my body between her legs.

She looks in anticipation as I edge closer to her, the thick head of my cock reaching for her inner lips. She shudders as I press it there, rubbing my tip along her pussy and up to her clit. I then slap my shaft against her wet pussy twice and she almost bangs her head against the floor in madness.

She opens her legs wide and lets out a scream. I enter her fast, my shaft sliding deep inside of her, her tightness sending shards of absolute rapture from her pussy to my mind.

I thrust at her like that for God knows how long, my body pressing down on hers. She laces her legs behind my back, but she’s not locking me into place; she allows me the freedom to move in and out at will – which I do.

I keep on thrusting hard and violently for a long time, this moment so delicious that I can imagine myself spending the whole day like this, lying on the floor while I ravage her.

I continue until all strength leaves her body, her legs sliding down from my back to the floor as all muscles in her body become taut. I pound her even strongly then, feeling her weakness. Her pussy tightens around my cock and she screams out loud as she comes once more.

Closing my eyes, I continue fucking her with abandonment, beads of sweat dripping down from my face and falling onto the floor. My muscles seem to be burning with the effort, but I don’t stop; instead, I go even faster, pushing through the pain and exhaustion.

“I’m going to come,” I groan, and that unleashes something inside her. Next thing I know, my cock is already out of her pussy and she’s rolling to the side and going to her knees. Grabbing my thick member, she starts stroking me hard.

The moment she feels slight spasms running through the length of my shaft, she doesn’t hesitate. She just opens her mouth and dives in, taking my whole cock into her mouth.

My whole body tenses up and a fraction of a second later I explode, my milky seed spilling into her mouth like a raging river. Just one burst and her mouth is already brimming with cum.

Reacting on instinct alone, she takes her mouth out of my cock, allowing me to gush my seed all over her naked body. She keeps on moving her hands over my cock as I come; heavy beads drip down her face, running over the curves of her lips, as more strands splatter against her breasts.

She only opens up her eyes when my cock stops throbbing against her fingers.

Looking down, she takes her hands off my shaft and smiles, seeing her own skin glistening, a thin layer of creamy semen on her naked body.

“Oh, Jesus,” she sighs, sitting up on the floor and leaning back against the wall. “What the hell has just happened?”

“I have no fucking idea,” I breathe out, joining her against the wall and throwing my head back. I close my eyes, listening to the sound of my own heartbeat, and I can’t help but smile. I just came in here to deliver lunch and try to save my character, and I ended up getting the best sex of my life.

Not bad for a Friday.

“You gotta go…” She says out of the blue, and I look at her and blink twice before I realize what she’s saying. “No one can find out about this, or else we’ll be in trouble.”

“We’ll be in trouble, right,” I mutter, suddenly realizing that the reason I came into her office was because I wanted to stay out of trouble.

Oh, fuck it, this was worth it.

We get dressed in a hurry, keeping the silence as we do it, and then I make my way toward the door. I lay my hand on the handle, but then I turn around and meet her gaze.

“See you for lunch next Monday,” I tell her, and then I just leave, my I-just-had-the-best-sex-of-my-life smile on my face.

Kayla

I put my mop and bucket back under the laundry sink. My floors are so clean I can see my own reflection, and I know I could eat off them.

It’s been a while since I’ve scrubbed my apartment from top to bottom two days in a row. Usually I just get the cleaning lady to come during the week so I don’t have to be bothered with housework on my days off.

But this weekend was different. Sex the other day with Brad has left me a little confused. My cage has been rattled.

With the cleaning equipment out of the way, I go back into the living room and put some music on. My eyes travel along the rows of books in the bookshelves, but nothing leaps out to say “read me.”

I ponder what else I can do to distract myself. Mentally, I tick off the housework already done: dusting done, washing done, ironing done, floors done, and windows cleaned.

I walk to the stereo. Alright, let’s focus on the music then. Music is soothing; it calms the mind.

Should I have pushed Brad away when he started kissing me? Hard call. I’m only human after all, and it’s been a while since I’ve had sex.

Well, in fact, I’ve never had sex the way Brad and I went at it the other day.

Will it get out? Will the rumor mills go wild and make my life a writer’s hell? And what would Ed make of it?

Sick of being confined to my four walls, I decide to head out. Fresh air, exercise, and a change of scenery are what I need.

I decide to drive to the canyon for a run. It’s Saturday, and I will go for a run around this time.

Brad has rattled my cage, sure, but maybe it’s best I keep to my routine. It will clear my headspace…there’s nothing better for it than being out in rugged, beautiful terrain. The view from the canyon always leaves me feeling a little better.

It somehow puts into place how insignificant we humans really are. We are these tiny beings in a huge unknown space—the pimple on the ass of the universe.

With my running shoes on, my hair tied back, and water bottle in hand, I get into my car. Once at the canyon, I park and do a few stretches. The last thing I want to do is pull a muscle or strain a ligament.

To my relief, there aren’t that many people up here today. It is a very popular walk, and sometimes it can be difficult to park your car.

I set off. My mind mulls over the Brad dilemma. I’m a firm believer that it’s no good to be involved with a work colleague, and there’s no arguing Brad is a work colleague.

I’m the head writer and he’s one of the main stars on the show. It could get complicated.

But then, of course, I could be overreacting. I’ve made no plans to see Brad again, nor has he suggested another date. Of course, sex isn’t really a date anyway.

Kayla, when did your life become so complicated? I thought to myself.

I round a corner in the path and collide with something soft. It’s a human being. It’s a man.

A man I know.

For a second or so, I hold my breath. What’s he doing here?

“Hey, Scott,” I say and try to bring my breathing under control. Scott is holding me by my shoulders. “Are you stalking me?” I’m joking, of course, although I always regret saying it.

What if he thinks I’m a weirdo?

“I am,” Scott replies, and the look in his eyes tell me he isn’t entirely lying. Okay, what’s going on in here?

His touch is messing with my brain, desire wells up in me, and nerve cells start to tingle.

“You are?” I repeat to try and hide my feelings. My heart rate is increasing even though I’m standing still. I hope my yearning for his touch is not too obvious.

“I can’t lie.” Scott finally lets me go and takes a step backward. He’s grinning at me.

I try to say something witty back, but I draw a blank. Instead, my gaze feasts on his six-pack and bulky shoulders. Weightlifting is definitely part of Scott’s workout.

His thigh muscles are bulging, and I know I’m staring at his crotch. I can’t help but wonder…how big is his cock?

“I know why you’re stalking me,” I say, eventually forcing myself to look into his face.

“You do?” Scott lifts his hands in mock innocence.

“You’ve heard one of you is going to get killed off. And you want to know if it’s you.”

Scott takes a little bow.

“You’re correct, dear madam. But only partly correct.”

I raise my eyebrows and say, “Really? And what would the other reason be?”

Before he answers, I can guess what is coming. His eyes speak volumes. I’m wearing my cropped running top and knee-length tights.

His gaze has practically undressed me already. And yet I want to hear it from him.

“I’ve come out here today to go for a run with the gorgeous head writer of our show. I want to get to know you.” The grin of the cat that caught the mouse accompanies his words.

I laugh. Luckily, he cant’s see under my clothes. Between my legs, a little wetness appears already. It catches me by surprise; am I really reacting like this around this hunk of a man several days after Brad has fucked me?

Can it be something in the water? Has someone tampered with it and added some form of aphrodisiac? I vow to buy bottled water for the next few weeks, knowing my theory is totally baseless and borders on silliness.

I slap him on the shoulder. The tips of my fingers burn with desire as my flesh touches his.

“With only one purpose in mind, I bet.”

Scott’s grin widens. “Is it that obvious? Or are you able to read me better because you are a writer?”

Instead of a reply, I decide it is time to issue a challenge.

“Well, dear prince,” I start and turn back toward the way I had been going. “If you want to find out who is going to be killed at my hand, you better race me to the top.”

“What’s the prize?”

I turn back to him one more time.

“We’ll race to the end of the trail. If you win, I’ll tell you who gets killed.”

“And if you win?”

Instead of an answer, I turn and start to run.

My feet fly across the uneven ground. I keep my eyes peeled forward. I don’t want to collide with anyone else.

Usually I take time to admire the magnificent view from up the valley and the homes below, but not now. There’s purpose to my running.

I’m driven to impress. It’s not that I don’t want Scott to win. Truth is, I still have no idea who is getting killed and who stays.

I don’t like the idea, and so I haven’t written the scene yet.

No, the run has taken on a different purpose all together. The minute I had laid eyes on Scott in skimpy shorts—shorts so short that not much is left to the imagination and a wide-cut singlet—an almost animalistic desire awakened deep within me.

I want to impress Scott. I want him behind me and feasting on my backside.

In my imagination, I picture myself pulling his shorts off and freeing his throbbing cock.

After another bend in the track, I have to slow down. A stitch in the right side of my abdomen is making it difficult to keep at the pace I had started.

“Keeping up, snail?” I call over my shoulder to Scott, who’s now a little distance behind me.

“Insult me all you want. We are not there yet.”

I keep running. I’m enjoying this.

“Hope you’re enjoying the view back there.” I can’t resist the urge to needle him a little.

“More than you can imagine” comes the instant reply.

Scott’s gaining on me.

Part of me tries to pick up my pace again, but another wants to keep the distance between us small so I can keep teasing him.

I want him to take the bait.

With the end of the trail in sight, I need to plan my next move. If I win, what prize will I claim?

My nerve endings are almost screaming at me to ask for him, all of him inside me, but I wonder how I should play the game.

Here I have been worried about my antics with Brad, and to solve that problem, I’m now considering throwing myself at my other main star in the show.

Talk about from fire into the frying pan.

Of course, I could let Scott win, and then I wouldn’t have to ask for any prize. But where would the fun be in that?

I turn back to see Scott steadily closing the gap between us. His expression is full of lust.

“Come and get it,” I taunt.

Scott

Running usually relaxes me, but this run is anything but. My mind is racing with a thousand images flashing through my head.

I’ve only ever seen Kayla behind a desk, in the writer’s room, or at a table read, and she always has her head down, pecking away at her keyboard. Until now, I never looked at her closely, or thought about her as a woman.

Maybe she’s a decent person, who knows? It’s damn hard to trust anyone in Hollywood. This industry is callous, and she probably doesn’t give two shits about my character or my career. If she decides to kill me off…well…I don’t know what I’m going to do. My mortgage isn’t going to pay for itself. A multi-million-dollar mansion doesn’t come cheap after all.

If I didn’t need the money so badly, I would give them all the finger and go back to indie films. But let’s face it, there are major perks to being on a hit TV show, and The Kings is one bad-ass series. I gotta admit I like raking in the big bucks every week, and the star treatment, the separate trailer, the personal assistant, and all the swag.

If I’m being honest, low budget movies are ghetto in every way, and besides, the food fucking sucks.

I’m no prima donna, I just like the creature comforts I have right now. I think I've earned them, and everyone deserves a few pleasures in their life. Right?

There are some actors who think it’s annoying to be constantly hounded by groupies, the paparazzi, and anyone else looking to get into their personal lives.

But, fuck it. My mother always said, you gotta take the good with the bad. So, if the bad means going through gyrations with the public in order to enjoy some luxuries, then, I’m all in. Because continually looking for my next gig is not what I consider a good time.

So, this Kayla person needs to come through. Big time.

She wants to race me for the answers, fine. I’ll play along with her game. But it’s working my last nerve, because I’m forcing myself to be nice, and nice isn’t usually how I play.

I just want to know – Is my character dead? Or am I staying on the show?

I slow my pace so I can run next to her. I want her to know I’m pissed that I have to tackle this dumb-ass trail just to find out what she has in mind for me.

I turn to say something, but I hold myself back from releasing the shit storm inside of me. Not the reaction I expected from myself.

She gives me a sideways glance and suddenly I don’t feel angry.

Hmm…what am I feeling for this woman who has the power to delete me from the script with one keystroke?

Damn.

Seeing her here in the great outdoors with her cute little running shorts, and I do mean little, as in petite, as in barely there, makes me want to see more of her.

Scott, get fucking straight. You’re here for one reason only, to discover your fate.

I hate when I talk to myself. This woman is somehow getting to me. Not what I want to happen. Not at all. I’m a tough guy. Not a pussy.

“Tougher than you thought,” Kayla teases.

It takes me a minute to understand she's talking about the trail.

“Ha,” I force a laugh. “Ain’t nothin’ tough about it. Just enjoying the view.”

I’m running, but I’m not trying to beat her. I just let her set the pace and continue to take glances in her direction. Damn, she’s pulling me in .

Stealing glances at her face, I can see that without any make up, this woman’s skin looks awfully touchable. And her naturally pink lips are just begging to be kissed.

I know Kayla’s not gonna tell me what I want to know until we're done playing this little cat- and-mouse game. Okay, fine. As long as I have to play by her rules, who says I can’t have fun? Time to shift gears, let her get ahead of me. I might as well enjoy the view while I’m out here working up a sweat.

I slow it way down, and rub at my side. I make her think I’ve got a pain and let her pass me. What the fuck – I’ll pull out a sprint in the last eighth of a mile and get what I came for. In the meantime, I’m going to get a look at her from behind.

I admire beautiful women, and I’d have to be crazy not to see that Kayla is one piece of deliciousness wrapped up in a neat package. Her tight buns, long lean legs, and slim waistline are much better scenery than these rolling hills. So, yeah, it’s time for her to take the lead. I want to just watch for a bit.

“Better look out, you’re going to fall behind,” she says in a breathy voice as she passes.

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” I say under my breath.

I hold back and I smile, because I’m finally relaxing.

But Kayla keeps turning to see how far ahead she’s getting, and I’m careful to keep the distance just enough to look and her hips in motion, but not too much that I can’t take her in the end.

As we move along the trail, I know there’s no way to go any slower without her knowing I’m copping a look. I gotta make this look natural, so I bend down to re-tie my shoelaces.

“Hey, you okay?” Kayla asks, turning and jogging in place.

I keep tying, and look up. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

Kayla doesn’t stop running in place. A slow smile spreads across her face and I’m captivated by that mouth of hers. Kissable. Supremely kissable.

“Like hell you will,” she says.

“Huh?” I seem to have missed a beat in the conversation. It’s those damn lips.

“Catch up with me,” she says laughing, and then takes off up the trail.

I get up and follow in hot (and I do mean hot) pursuit.

We're getting close to the finish line now and I want some answers, so I have to ignore that bulge pressing against my jock strap and put some steel in my stride.

After a few more seconds I pass her and give her a wide grin. As I round a bend in the trail, I can almost see the finish.

“I hope you’re ready to spill the beans,” I call over my shoulder.

“Ha! You’ve won nothing yet,” she yells back.

Then without realizing, I see Kayla pass me on the inside of the turn. I literally do a double take, because I didn’t think she had it in her. But clearly, she’s digging deep for that last kick.

As if running ahead of me isn’t enough, she turns completely around, taunting me.

“You got lead in your shoes, pretty boy.”

“Seriously, that's the best line you can come up with?” I’m panting a bit, but I keep smiling.

She’s running backwards and she keeps smiling.

“Come on, pretty boy, show me what you got,” she says in her best taunting voice.

I’m about ready to surprise the shit out of her, ‘cause I still have plenty of juice left, and I’m not about to save one ounce. I’m going to pass her so hard and so fast, she’s gonna scream.

“Oh, shit!” Kayla cries, flying backwards. I can see she's tripped on a tree root and she's now airborne.

She lands flat on her ass and the look on her face is one of total agony.

Kayla

I cannot believe my own stupidity. As soon as I look forward again I know I’m going to fall. The tree root seems to have come out of nowhere.

In slow motion I trip, my arms flail trying to stop the inevitable, all to no avail.

The ground seems to be coming toward me at incredible speed. Reality is I am falling face forward onto the gravel path. Before impact I close my eyes. This is going to hurt.

Sprawled on the path I lie there. What would the chances be of the earth opening up underneath me to swallow me up so I can disappear forever? Very slim, I know. Non-existent actually, my brain reminds me and I do a mental head to toe check on possible injuries.

Nothing broken from what I can gauge.

“You ok?”

I wish the ground would swallow me up and spit me out on the other side of the earth.

“Fine,” I mumble and get on to my hands and knees. I’m not fine, not really. Everything hurts and I can see blood from grazes on my knees, elbows and palms of my hands.

Tears threaten but I bite them back. I’m not going to cry.

“Here let me help you up.”

I feel Scott’s strong grip pull me onto my feet.

As soon as I put weight on my right foot, pain shoots through it.

“Ouch,” I wince and shift awkwardly onto my other foot.

“What’s the matter?” Scott peers at me.

“Ankle,” I say and point to my right foot. Ouch. My right ankle’s throbbing. The grazes hurt, and my pride, well it had been trampled on by a heard of elephants.

“Here,” Scott put his left arm around me to support my weight. “Let’s get you over onto that log so we can take a look at your ankle.”

The minute my body touches his, all my pain evaporates and is replaced with desire. I close my eyes and enjoy the feel of his muscles.

With incredible tenderness, he lowers me onto a fallen tree. Then he gently undoes the laces of my shoe.

“Is this ok?”

I nod. His touch is pushing all my sex buttons. If we weren’t out in the open I don’t know what I would do. Maybe rip the little clothing he was wearing off his body and explore it with mouth and hands.

Once my shoe is removed, Scott works on my sock. Instead of ripping it off, or rolling it down, he takes his time gently pushing it downward inch by inch. Every few seconds he looks at me for any sign of discomfort.

My insides are turning into jelly and my brain is threatening to go on strike. Touch me, I want to whisper but I don’t. Please, please, pretty please touch me. But I stay strong.

Once my foot is bare, Scott holds it in his hands. His fingers press gently on different parts, asking if it hurts.

Each time I shake my head. Agony, this is sheer agony, with my body screaming for more. My pussy is so wet I could just take him here and now.

Suddenly, Scott’s thumb finds the injured spot. I flinch as his fingers gently prod the area.

“I think it’s a sprain.” Scott keeps holding my foot.

I nod. My mouth is parched and I’m afraid my voice will betray me.

I feel Scott’s eyes look right into my soul.

I myself am looking inward. How can this be happening to me? A few days ago I was bewitched by Brad and had the best sex of my life, and here I am practically begging another man to take me and fuck me.

“I’ll help you back to the car.” Scott’s voice penetrates my foggy brain.

If I could I would put some distance between us so I can think better. His presence is unnerving and I cannot think clearly.

As slowly as the shoe and sock came off, Scott puts them back on.

I try and stand but I’m a little unsteady on my feet. I waver and Scott holds onto me.

Please don’t let me go, I whimper silently. Scott, who seems to have turned into a mind reader, keeps his arms around my waist.

“I think I better carry you,” he says and before I can protest I’m in his arms.

Fire rips through me. I feel the hardness of his muscles. He really is the proverbial muscle pack. There are muscles I didn’t even know men had.

“You work out then?” I say and look at his profile.

No effort seems to be expended in him carrying me. It is as if I’m light as a feather. I wish I were. I know I’m slim, but like every other woman in LA I wish I could lose a few of those pesky pounds on my thighs and hips. And if anyone ever talks about childbearing hips again I swear I’ll scream.

Scott glances at me.

“Not as much as I’d like to.” Lust flares up in his eyes.

Butterflies caress my skin. I put my arms around his neck.

“Comfortable?” A pause. “There are different positions we could try, you know?”

I raise my eyebrow in mock surprise.

“I hadn’t thought of different positions.” I smile innocently at him. “What do you suggest?”

Vivid pictures flash through my mind.

Scott fixes me with his intense eyes.

“Well let’s see,” there’s a little furrow in his brow and a sparkle in his eyes I have not noticed before. “You could start traditional and move onto the more unusual.”

As he speaks his fingers are caressing my back, drawing little circles on it.

“Tell me more,” I whisper and feel a tingling between my legs.

“I’ve heard of the Tominagi.”

I chuckle. “Is it painful?”

Scott shrugs. “We’d have to give it a go.”

My desire intensifies.

“And?”

My eyes hang on each and every one of his words.

“Doggy lift, fireman pole and one of my favorite, Swiss ball blitz.”

I take my gaze off his face and look around. Unfortunately I realize we are at the most exposed part of the Canyon trail. There’s not even a tree or high grass in sight.

“And you are experienced in all of those?” I continue our banter.

“Well, in some I’m experienced, in others I would I like to get more…” he pauses, “experience. You know with this sort of stuff you can never have too much experience.”

I feel one of his hands move toward my backside. He’s managing to hold me in such a way that this hand is now on my bare skin.

My grip around his neck tightens. I want to take some of my weight off his arms so he can continue his search for more personal parts of my body.

“And during all this getting experience,” I continue, “have you worked out which is your favorite or are you still working on it?”

He throws his head back and laughs.

“I might need to go over some of them again to make sure which one I would rank as number one. I just need a willing subject.”

By now his fingers are sliding along my ass. If only he could get to my pussy from there. I shift in his arms.

“Painful?”

I shake my head.

“We could try a different position?”

Our eyes meet and our gazes lock. Slowly he lowers me to the ground before picking me up again. This time I wrap both my legs around his waist. My arms go back around his neck.

“Better?” he murmurs into my ear.

Action is still rather limited this way, but my pussy now feels his erect dick. I know he’s as turned on and ready for action as I am.

To my relief I can see the car park not too far into the distance. Mental calculations confirm we can be back at my apartment ready to rip each other’s clothes off in less than twenty minutes.

I’m breathing hard and this time not from physical exertion.

Scott’s chest rises and falls against my breasts. I can feel his muscles and heart beat through the flimsy material that separates our skin. He too is breathing a little faster.

Finally at the car he slowly lowers me to the ground. My back is against the driver’s door.

The instant my feet touch the ground, Scott’s mouth is on top of mine and his tongue is demanding access into my mouth.

I groan and dig my fingernails into his neck. His hands are pushing under my top and are squeezing my nipples.

Tempted as I am to rip his shorts off I am aware of other parked cars and the possibility of strangers coming upon us having sex.

Briefly I let my hands move down into his shorts, just to feel his cock. It’s hard, its long and it’s ready for me.

“Let’s go to my place.” I invite

him, and he doesn’t need to be asked twice.

Scott

She’s about to get inside her car when I grab her by the wrist.

“What are you doing?”

“Going home,” she whispers, looking at me with wide eyes.

“No way,” I tell her, reaching for her car keys and taking them out from her hands. “You’re not driving like that. Your ankle’s all swollen. We’ll take my car.”

I don’t even let her argue the point. I just pick her up from the floor and carry her toward my Aston, parked just a few dozen meters away from her Prius. As gently as I can, I place her on the driver’s seat and then I take my place behind the wheel.

“I’ll need directions,” I say, looking at her with a grin. Fuck, I can barely control myself. If it weren’t for the fact we’re surrounded by all these fucking tourists, I’d just fuck her right here.

“It’s easy,” she replies, and a few minutes later we’re cruising down the highway, my cock still fighting back against the fabric of my shorts. I don’t even remember the last time I was this hard.

The moment I park the Aston outside her apartment building, I get out of the car and just pick her up. I carry her inside the building and straight toward the elevator, my lips aching for hers with each step I take.

“Fuck, I can’t wait,” I tell her as she fumbles with her keys. When the door to her apartment finally swings open, I almost tumble inside. Still, I regain my balance and softly place her down.

“I don’t want to wait,” she adds, throwing her arms over my shoulders and reeling me in. Our lips meet, and then I’m working on auto-pilot.

With one hand on her waist, I grab the hem of her crop top and then pull it over her head and throw it to the floor. After that, I just tug on her shorts, sending them down her legs. The fabric pools at her feet and she kicks it to a faraway corner. She might feel exposed right now in her bra and her tiny thong, but judging by the look on her face, she’s liking it. And so am I.

I take a step back and allow my eyes to roam over her half-naked body. She looks fucking hot in nothing but shorts and a tank top, but this…fuck, this is something else. Where has this woman been all my life?

“Now this is a pretty sight,” I tease her, my eyes wandering up and down her body. My gaze lingers on her thong, and then it does the same on her breasts.

Feeling my heart kick against my chest, I grab her by the arms and push her toward the couch in the middle of her living room. I lay her down on it and I lean into her.

My lips reach for her mouth while my hand anxiously slides down her body. My other hand slowly goes to her back, finds the clasp of her bra and frees it; instead of allowing the cups to droop over her breasts, though, she places her hands over them.

Allowing the tension to build, she pushes the straps of her bra down her shoulders, and only then she does allow the cups to start drooping. My eyes widen as her right nipple comes into sight, rosy and hard, and I just want to get a taste of it.

I reach for her breasts then. She trembles slightly as she feels the palm of my hands pressing down on her hard nipples, and then I turn my fingers into claws and squeeze her breasts eagerly. She gasps as I do it, her breasts burning with pleasure.

Then I run my lips from her mouth, to her neck, and finally then on her nipple. I wrap my lips around her hard tip and, taking it into my mouth, I start sucking on it. My tongue gently circles her right nipple while I suck on it and my other hand squeezes her left breast. She closes her eyes, a pleasant warmth under her skin.

“It´s so good,” she whispers, her mouth allowing a soft moan to escape.

I continue doing the same to the other nipple.

“It’ll get better soon enough”, I grin.

I pull my mouth out of her nipples and slide my hands down the side of her body, taking them to her waist.

With a growl, I take my fingers to her inner thighs and pull on her thong, sending it down her legs. She bites her lower lip as she feels it sliding down.

As I expose her wetness, she curls her fingers around my wrist and makes me press my hand against her pussy. My fingertips caress her inner lips with gentleness, tracing the contour of her pussy and carefully avoiding her clit. She starts swaying her hips back and forth, trying to make me press my fingers against her clit.

Then, before she can even moan, I open my hand and press it hard between her thighs. She snaps her legs shut by instinct, trapping my hand there as I flick one finger against her inner lips. She opens her mouth and sighs in frenzied delight as she feels my finger sliding inside of her.

I take it all the way, curling it upwards and pressing my fingertip against her G-spot. I rub her there, drowning her brain with pleasure. When I slide one more finger inside of her, she can’t stop herself from moaning – she opens her mouth and lets a high-pitched cry of pleasure fall from her lips.

Just like that, she arches her back and I feel her pussy tightening around my fingers as she comes.

Still shaking, she gets up from the couch and presses her hand on my crotch, my cock pulsing furiously against her, and slides it upwards towards the hem of my shorts. Her eyes never leaving mine, she slowly starts pulling them down, my cock pressing out against her knuckles as she goes.

Wasting no time, she grabs my underwear, pushing it down in one swift movement. My cock jumps out at once – I can see on her face she’s surprised by my length, and I can’t help but grin.

“Not bad,” she smirks at me, curling her fingers around the root of my shaft.

She starts stroking me, taking one hand all the way up my length and then making the same climb with her other hand. She goes like that for a while, tugging on my member with both her hands in a flowing motion.

My hips rock slightly forwards, and I just want to put my whole hardness inside her mouth. She lets her hands go up to my stomach and she grabs at my t-shirt, tugging on it and undressing me.

I take it out as she hurries down to my shorts and boxer briefs and push them completely down my legs. Before I can take them off, she grabs me by the waist and pushes me down onto the couch, right next to her.

I grin at her as she positions herself on top of me, taking my sneakers off and throwing them away. I kick off my shorts then, taking a whole second to marvel at the perfect, naked girl standing on top of me.

She leans into me fast, parting her lips and taking my cock inside of her mouth. I exhale in pleasure as she flicks her tongue against my tip, circling it with soft and deliberate movements.

My hands go to her head and I push her down with an almost anxious eagerness. She doesn’t even bother resisting my pressure – she wants to feel that thickness inside her tight mouth, and I don’t want to wait for it either.

Going down my length, she pushes herself as hard as she can, straining to fit me all inside of her mouth. She pulls back slowly the moment she feels her lips touching the skin at the base of my cock.

Then, firmly grabbing my cock by the root, she starts bobbing her head, my length going in and out of her mouth at a steady pace. I guide her with my hands although she keeps her own rhythm – she needs no guidance, the rhythm of her mouth on my shaft growing into an unstoppable crescendo of lustful fury.

Pulling back out again, she lets my cock pop out of her mouth and starts stroking me again, her eyes never leaving mine.

Oh, Kayla’s good…very fucking good.

Kayla

His breathing is growing rougher with each bob of my head and I up the pace, stroking him while I suck.

Letting go of my head, his fingers slide down my neck and go around my waist, caressing my inner thighs. I push my knees slightly apart, allowing him to place his hand on top of my pussy, one finger of his immediately finding the way to my clitoris.

He doesn’t waste time – with his cock lodged deep inside my mouth, he slides one finger inside of me and starts to move it in and out in a furious pace. I sway my hips as he does it, my throat vibrating with a moan that can’t escape my lips because of his massive cock.

I like his fingers inside of me almost as much as I relish having him in my mouth. But there’s something else that we can do – something better.

I grab his hand and make him take his fingers out. Then, I pop his cock out of my mouth and jump on top of his body.

With my back turned to him, I slide back. Realizing what I’m about to do, he grabs me by the hips and pulls me into him, his mouth fitting right below my dripping pussy.

I only stop when his face is trapped between my thighs and then I start easing myself down softly, allowing his tongue to part my pussy lips and jab in and out of me quickly, while his other hand press down on my clitoris.

With my pussy on his face, I lean forwards, grabbing his cock and pointing it straight at my mouth. I let it slide inside of me in a hurry, his burning flesh rolling over my tongue hastily. I suck on him as hard as I can, cupping and caressing his balls with one hand. God, his balls are huge – it seems like I’m playing with tennis balls.

I try to focus on what I’m doing, but it’s harder than it seems. He keeps flicking his tongue at me, thrusting with it and then sliding it along my slit, all while he rubs on my clit with the dexterity of a true master. We’re pleasing each other with our mouths – my pussy in his mouth, his cock in mine – and it’s absolutely amazing.

I feel my whole body burning with pleasure and all I want to do is scream. To do so, I take his cock out of my mouth and let a high-pitched scream tumble out of my mouth, filling the whole living room. I grab his knees hard, arching my back as a jolt of mind numbing electricity runs through my spine.

I’m coming hard and, fuck, he doesn’t ease up. He keeps licking me, his fingers hooked on my hips and keeping me in place. I tremble in ecstasy like a madwoman until I can’t take it anymore; I roll to the side, closing my eyes and breathing hard.

But I want more. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help it. I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

I lick my lips and he looks at me, his hands circling my waist, and I lean in to kiss him. My tongue slides along his as our bodies press together in frenzied lust. My pussy is calling for him and I become a ravenous, wild person I hardly recognize.

With Scott’s hands on my hips, he lifts me up so that the head of his cock is lined with my opening, before sliding me his hard shaft inside me. A slow moan escapes me, and my hips begin to move as Scott looks at me with a grin.

Our bodies move slowly together, he slides and sits up on the couch so that his hand is cradling my neck, guiding me on and off of his cock.

I’m screaming. Oh, I’m screaming really loud now.

It’s impossible not to – I have been with some men, sure, but Scott’s cock is on a completely different league. As he rams it inside me, I feel my inner walls straining to accommodate him, my whole body being torn apart by pleasure.

I lift my ass slightly up and moan, his thickness completely devastating me. I ease myself down, making him go deep once more. Before I know it, I’m riding him in a pendulum motion, his cock sliding in and out at a careful and gentle pace.

I start going faster. I want it fast and hard, I want him to lash out at me with all the raging ferocity that he’s capable of.

As if he could read my mind, he places both his hands on my ass and, grabbing hard at my ass cheeks, he starts rocking his hips against mine faster, his cock hitting me deep inside my pussy with such demolishing strength that I can’t even tell right from left.

I try and match his rhythm, bucking my hips at him at such a quick pace that I start to run out of breath. But Scott doesn’t ease up – he keeps thrusting and thrusting, all of my senses completely overwhelmed by a feeling so damn pleasant it should be illegal.

He smacks my ass hard, grabbing my ass and feeling the sway of my body with his fingers. My muscles become tight and I know it’s coming – I surrender to that tidal wave of pleasure willingly and come again.

I scream so hard that I feel my throat growing sore.

I feel him tense up then but, acting by instinct, I tighten my pussy around his cock like a vice. I pull him out of me slowly, my body trembling as I do it. I roll to the side, my back against the couch.

“We’re not done yet,” I say, and he replies by placing his hands under my ass cheeks and lifting me up. I cross my legs on his lower back, placing one arm over his shoulder as he leans into me. He presses his body against mine and I do the rest, using my free hand to hold his cock into position.

With one hand under my neck and the other holding me by the waist, he rams his cock all the way in. He starts to thrust at me furiously, his thickness completely ravaging my inner walls.

I start moaning louder as his thrusts become almost unbearable, the strength with which he does it shaking me to the core. My skin is burning, my muscles are electrified, and my mind is boiling. Every single cell in me is devoted to one single thing: pleasure.

“It’s so…fucking…good…” I breathe out, the words getting out of me between thrusts. He says nothing; he just keeps on fucking me, pistoning into me as if he was put on Earth for the sole purpose of pleasuring me.

He fucks me without a trace of mercy, his cock pounding into me so fast and hard I can’t even tell if it’s coming or going. And who cares about that anyway? All that matters is that he’s inside of me, right where he belongs.

I can’t hold on much longer. My mind is going blank, each trust choking down all rational thoughts on my brain – it doesn’t take long for my body to start burning up, a river of volcanic pleasure coursing through my veins in boiling ecstasy.

“Oh my – ” I stop mid-sentence, a scream erupting out of me as I climax again, my legs letting go of him and kicking against the couch in uncontrollable ecstasy. I scream and moan, my muscles feeling numb as electric pleasure starts to pool inside of me, filling me up to the brim.

Scott

I stop thrusting and slowly pull out of her. I lean into her and kiss her lips once again.

She pulls out from my kiss and goes up to her feet, grabbing my hand.

“Let’s change the movie set, shall we?” She asks me with a devilish grin on her face. I follow her across the living room and into her bedroom.

“I won’t argue that one,” I reply with a chuckle. “You’re the head writer.”

We arrive at her bedroom and she wastes no time, guiding me straight to the bed. Then she lies down on her back and, grabbing me by the neck, forces me to follow after her. I’m prepared to part her inner lips and thrust again when I realize she has other intentions.

“Not yet,” she grins, reaching for my cock; she begins stroking it back and forth, her movements slow but steady.

“I want your cock right here,” she tells me firmly, pointing to the valley between her delicious breasts.

Smiling, I grab and pinch her nipples hard. Then, placing my shaft between her breasts, she squeezes my cock between them and I start to thrust.

Fuck, I’m going insane. The sight of her wicked expression, her breasts and my cock between them…yeah, I’m going fucking insane in here.

She keeps on squeezing my cock between her breasts for a long time, and I only stop when I feel the fire of ecstasy taking over me. Gritting my teeth, I take a deep breath and stop myself from coming right on time.

Grabbing my cock firmly, I close in on her and push her down the mattress, forcing her to lay down.

Slapping my cock against her pussy, I press my body against hers, her breasts mashed against my chest. She laces my neck with one arm, pulling me into her, and opens her mouth to kiss me.

As soon as our lips connect, I start thrusting, doing it as hard as I can. My thickness pushes her inner walls back as it slides all the way in.

I thrust hard right from the start, going deeper each time my cock slides inside her. Her eyes are closed and her mouth sings a sweet moan – the perfect soundtrack while I ravage her completely.

Feeling close to the point of no return, I pull out of her and hook my fingers on her thighs, making her roll to her stomach. I kneel on the bed, pulling her into me. She juts her ass back at me and props herself up with her elbows.

Her hair is disheveled, locks of it falling over her face, but she doesn’t seem to care. Neither do I. All that I care about is handing out a sweet beating on her drenched pussy.

Her body shivers as she feels my hands tracing the curves on her ass, my fingers finding her aching pussy lips and parting them with care. She moans as I press my large tip against her pussy, rubbing it up and down there. She wiggles her ass at me – she’s impatient, she doesn’t want to wait anymore, and she doesn’t want any teasing.

In a fraction of a second, I sheath my cock up to the hilt inside of her pussy. Moaning hard, she pushes her head down against the mattress, her hair cascading down her shoulders as she lets a string of moans escape from her lips.

Pistoning into her with a kind of savage violence, I reach for her breasts and flatten my hands against them, massaging her flesh and brushing my fingertips over her hard nipples.

She’s grabbing at the sheets hard, the intensity of what’s running through her veins completely mind numbing. She’s gritting her teeth, her whole body tensing up as she savors how my cock struggles against her tightness.

Then, as she tightens her pussy around my length, I slow down the pace, taking my time to appreciate how it feels to be deep inside of her and have her inner walls trying to choke my thick cock.

Only after taking a few deep breaths do I start picking up the pace once more. She screams, and all I can hear is her voice and my thighs slapping her ass, the sound of it filling the entire room.

Slowly, I slide my right hand to her clit and star rubbing it. With the other hand, I grab a handful of hair and yank on it, fucking her as hard as I can.

It doesn’t take long for her to come again.

She’s screaming, and she’s screaming hard. I pulled my cock out of her, and she just collapses on the mattress. But she still has some strength left. Half staggering, she gets on her knees, grabs me by the neck, her mouth close to mine, and forces me to lay down.

Then, she climbs on top of me, her wetness rubbing against my thighs.

Kayla leans into me and sways her chest over my face, enjoying the look on my face as her breasts jiggle right over my eyes. I take one hand to her ass and the other to one of her breasts. I lift my head and wrap my lips around her hard nipple, sucking on it with such violent desire that she can’t help but close her eyes and sigh harshly, all air leaving her lungs at once.

Incapable of holding her desire any longer, she starts sliding down my body, rubbing her pussy against me. When she reaches my thighs, she grabs my throbbing cock with her eager fingers and moves her hand up and down a few times. She points it upwards, angling my tip, and eases herself down.

She sways her hips back and forth for a while, but soon enough she’s jumping up and down my cock as fast as she can. I keep thrusting as she does, matching her rhythm.

She keeps riding me, going like that for what seems like an eternity, going from riding my cock to simply jumping up and down over it. I feel thick beads of sweat dripping down my head, and their saltiness stings my eyes.

Still with my cock inside her, she lifts herself up on the mattress slightly, raising her knees and supporting herself with only her feet. It’s like she never injured her foot. Maybe it was all just a plot to get close to me.

Fuck, she’s so good at this I don´t think I can take it much longer without coming. She’s squatting over me, my cock pointing straight up and ready to be buried deep inside of her once more.

Using the last strength remaining in her body, she starts lowering herself on my cock and then going back up. She screams each time she goes down, my cock so deep inside of her that she can’t help but force herself further down, eager to have every single inch of my shaft burning inside of her.

I almost believe that my size doesn’t matter – her desire is so wicked, so all-consuming and fierce, that I just know she’d take me no matter what.

I feel my cock pulsing harshly inside of her, all of my body tensing up, and she makes one last effort to not slow down. I’m gritting my teeth and, in an instant, my muscles become even more taut as my cock starts spasming violently inside of her, shooting all my cum inside her. My warm seed fills her up and starts dripping down to her thighs, falling in thick droplets on the sheets – but she doesn’t stop.

She doesn’t want to stop.

She continues forcing herself down, and a few seconds later she’s coming, pleasure violently raging through her. She’s high on sex, high on my pulsing cock inside her. And as my shaft continues spasming, my load shooting deep into her, she moans so hard that her voice starts quivering.

We keep coming for a long while, the seconds ticking away as the fire of ecstasy consumes us both. Only when I become still does she roll to the side and lay down on the mattress, her limbs sprawled.

I didn’t even notice it before, but I’m covered in sweat, my hair plastered to my face.

Fuck, who’d have thought that Kayla would be such a goddess between the sheets?

Kayla

I remove the icepack from my ankle and rub some cream on it. Back at the freezer, I grab some ice cream and start eating it straight from the tub. Angela is a firm believer in eating the stuff straight from the container in times of emotional overloads. And I’m suffering from emotional overload.

Armed with spoon and box, I limp back to my laptop. I wait for the screen to come to life and try my hardest to push vivid images of this afternoon out of my mind.

Time for some work, Kayla, I think to myself. You’ve had your fun, and now you need to concentrate.

Easier said than done, I discover.

I sigh and randomly type some words onto the screen. At least now it doesn’t look so empty. What a sad habit.

Failure, you’re a failure . The words haunt me. I can’t afford to screw up this project.

I must succeed.

For further inspiration, I take another spoonful of ice cream. I revel in the cold, sweet texture sliding along my tongue and down my throat. Not as good as swallowing all of Scott, but it’s satisfying in its own way.

Briefly, I imagine Scott’s body covered in ice cream and the pleasure I’d have in licking it off, my tongue working its way from chest to belly to between his legs. I sigh.

I can still feel his tongue working its magic between my legs.

I shake my head. What am I doing? There’s no time to indulge in fantasies of our sexual escapade earlier today.

If I don’t start writing, Ed will have me killed, or worse, he’ll see to it that I would be fired.

I change my tactic.

Quickly my fingers move across the keyboard to pull up my scene map. My scene map is like a mind map, except it depicts different scenes in the series.

Instead of writing, I will focus on creating individual scenes. Any progress is going to be better than nothing at all.

I reread the first series and then open up my notes on series two. But try as I might to concentrate, my thoughts are not cooperating.

Brad. Scott. Scott. Brad.

Kill one of them. Ian’s off-limits

Those things invade my mind like weeds invading the lawn.

It’s no use. There’s no way I’m going to be doing any work tonight.

There’s only one thing to do. I go back into the kitchen and grab a wine glass. A bottle of red is taken from my wine rack, and once my glass if full, I make myself comfortable on the couch.

With my left hand I hold my glass and with my right hand I flick through my contacts. Ah, there it is.

After the third ring, I get worried. What if she doesn’t pick up? What will I do then?

“Hello, stranger,” a familiar voice greets me after the eighth ring.

“Hey, Ange.” I take a sip of my wine. For the umpteenth time, I lament the fact my best friend is out of town at the moment.

Why has she chosen this week to take a little break? It’d have been much better if she were around. A girl’s night would be awesome.

“What have you been up to?”

I sigh. Where do I start?

“That bad, is it?” Angela asks before I can reply to her question.

“You know me too well.” I laugh. “I don’t know where to start.”

It’s true. What do I unburden first, the problem about work or the problem of fucking my two leads?

“Ed’s being a dick,” I start, and I hear Angela laugh. Instantly I feel better.

“What else is new?” Angela says, and I’m reminded how Angela had a run-in with Ed last year. It wasn’t pretty, but from what she said, Ed came off looking worse from the incident than she did.

“Well,” I start and try and work out how to put it to her. “He’s interfering with my creative side. He just barged into my office the other day to tell me I have to kill off one of the leads in the show.”

“Is that all?” Angela sounds indifferent.

“I don’t think it’s time to kill one of them, and besides…” I falter.

There’s laughter from Angela.

“Let me guess, you’re screwing one of them?”

Luckily, Angela can’t see me go bright red like a tomato. Wait till she hears the rest of my story.

“Anyway, why don’t you kill that loser Ian? He’s a wanker anyway.”

Good old Ange, not one to shy away from saying it as she sees it.

“That’s just the problem. Ed told me Ian’s off-limits.”

Silence.

“But even if he wasn’t off-limits,” I continue, “I don’t think the show is ready for losing one of the brothers. I mean…it is meant to be about three brothers, not two and their deceased brother.”

I pause to take a sip of my wine. “Although you could maybe delve into that ghost stuff, you know? Like they did in that other show.”

“I don’t think Ian has the talent to play a ghost,” Angela points out.

I groan. “And he’s off-limits.”

“I heard. Can’t you do that? Just kill one of the guys and have him come back as a ghost…that way, you’re only changing his character. Solved. Easy.”

More wine dances across my tongue, tantalizing my taste buds. Briefly, I contemplate the story line put forward by Ange before I dismiss it. Ed would never go for it.

“It wouldn’t work.”

“What’s the other problem?”

“I’ve had the best sex ever with Brad,” I confess, and Ange chuckles.

“And since when is that a problem? About time you loosened up and looked after your sex life. You and Angelo were never meant to be together.”

“And then today,” I continue, ignoring the reference to Angelo. Angelo has been shelved over twelve months ago, after I found him banging his personal assistant. “I fucked Scott.”

I wait for the rebuke.

“I still can’t see the problem?”

“Are you serious?” I rouse on my best friend. “Have you been listening? I’m having sex with two different guys.”

As I say it out loud, I groan inwardly. When did my life become so complicated?

What had happened to my goal of becoming a successful screenwriter, find a supportive man, live in a nice mansion downtown along with all the other successful writers and…and what? Be bored out of my brain?

“Lighten up, Kay,” Angela says.

“Easy for you to say.” I grumble. “You’ve always been more adventurous than me.”

I’m sure Angela doesn’t tell me everything that’s going on in her life. She’s a wild one.

“About time for you to catch up. Enjoy it and see where it takes you. I wish I had two spunks like Brad and Scott lust after me.”

We laugh. We both know Angela is not short on admirers.

“But what am I going to do?” I persist.

“Enjoy it.”

“What about this killing off scene? How can I kill either Brad or Scott?” I know the minute I do, our relationship will be over. Am I selfish in not wanting it to end with either one of them?

“You need to think creative. You’re the writer. You’ll work something out.”

Angela sounds full of optimism.

“But I still don’t know what to do about Brad and Scott.” I know I sound like a broken record, but I can’t help it.

“Again you need to think creatively. You might not need to choose between either one of them.”

I frown. What does she mean?

“You’re not suggesting…?” I hesitate. Is she really suggesting I keep both going at the same time?

“I’m suggesting you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. How do you know they would be against doing it with you,” Angela pauses, “together?”

“At the same time?” I blurt the question out before I can stop myself.

“Duh.”

“I don’t know. That sort of bad girl stuff doesn’t suit me.”

“How do you know?”

I bite my bottom lip. “Because I’m not like that. You’re like that.”

“About time you get with the program, girl.” Angela laughs before I hear her talk to someone else.

“Sorry, gorgeous, got to go.”

“Company?”

“You bet. Just go with it. Stop thinking about it, and you’ll see it’ll all work out.”

I feel marginally better when I press the end button on my phone…emphasis on marginally.

It’s too early to go to bed, and I know I won’t be able to sleep, not with the way I’m feeling right now. And so I try one more time to plan my scenes for the next upcoming season.

Angela’s words ring in my ear: “get with the program,” and “be a bad girl.” I’ve enjoyed sex with both Brad and Scott. Perhaps my best friend’s right.

Maybe I should just go with the flow.

Scott

I pull up at the Starbucks drive-through for a triple espresso. I need to bring my A game for today’s read through, and a heavy dose of caffeine is just what the script doctor ordered. I need to be wide awake and ready for action.

I pass my credit card through the window, pay for my coffee, and drive to the studio.

The top’s down today, and the sun is fucking magnificent. I love LA mornings when there’s no smog and the air is almost fresh.

When I get to the lot, I park my car, and who do I see? Brad. Bam!

What a way to start the day.

I mean, he’s a nice-enough guy, and if we weren’t in a competition about whose character is gonna live and who’s is gonna die, I might really dig him. Maybe grab a beer together after a long day on set—if I weren’t competing.

I guess I need to cut him some slack. This wasn’t his idea.

The whole situation is just fucked. Seriously.

I need to stop thinking like this.

Before I get out of the car, I pull down the visor and give myself the once-over in the mirror. I check the hair, give a big smile, and make sure there’s no breakfast stuck in my teeth. Looking good. Time to move on out.

“Breathe,” I tell myself. “Stay calm. People can smell desperation.”

There are certain things that are out of my control, but I refuse to believe this is one of them. I will act my ass off (and any other body parts necessary) at this table read to make sure I’m the character they can’t live without.

“Yo! Brad,” I call as I jog over to him. “Wait up.”

“Hey, Scott. What’s going on?”

“Ah, you know, the usual.”

“Yeah? Kinda tense around here lately, don’t you think?” Brad asks.

“Yeah, just a little,” I say, trying to sound like I’m tossing off the remark.

We push through the revolving door, and we’re greeted by Sam the guard.

He’s about a hundred years old and can’t see worth shit. If there were any type of disturbance, we’d definitely be on our own. But he’s been with the studio for twenty-five years, and no one has the heart to fire him.

He just scowls at us as we say our hellos. We sign in and head toward studio A.

Most of the cast for The Kings is already at the table, and the only person missing is Kayla.

I hang my jacket up in the corner, take the script from my back pocket, and head over to the table with my triple shot and plop down in the seat next to Brad.

I inch my chair a little closer. I bet he can feel me breathing on him. I figure a little intimidation might throw him off.

My mother used to say, “Whoever has the upper hand has control.” And I want control.

The truth is, I gotta have it. I hate, absolutely hate, not knowing what’s coming next.

When I read a book, I skip to the end so I know who did it. I can’t take the anxiety of not immediately knowing what’s going to happen.

Like right now, I want to know what Brad knows, and the best way to do that is to get him talking.

“Kayla’s late,” I say and blow a breath out as if I’m exasperated.

“Not really,” Brad says, looking at the clock on the wall. “She has another five minutes.”

“Aren’t we precise, and protective.”

Brad sits back in his chair and looks at me. “Meaning?”

“Let’s just say I have my sources, and I know what goes on around here.” I make a circular motion with my hand, indicating the studio.

“I’m not sure that’s something you want to brag about. It’s a little girlie, if you ask me,” Brad says.

“So now you think you’ve got comedy chops? ’Cause that wasn’t funny.”

“I just call it like I see it.” Brad folds his arms over his chest. “Who would have pegged you as gossip girl?” And then he chuckles.

It’s the chuckle that gets me. It’s a little superior, so now I’m feeling like I gotta pounce.

I lean in and whisper, “I know you think you’ve got it all going on with Kayla.”

“Jeez!” He turns in his chair and frowns. “Was your last gig as a code breaker, because you’re being incredibly cryptic. What are you talking about, and what is it you think you know, Scott?”

He sounds pissed, and a of the few cast members are starting to look our way.

“Well, I know about that little lunch run you did for Kayla.” I shake my head. “Dude, that was so freaking lame. What makes you think wining and dining with the head writer saves your ass? It’s gonna take a lot more than that.”

Brad just stares at me and shrugs. Smug is all over his face.

“I’m seriously asking, why do you think that’s your save?”

“I’m not just a pretty face,” Brad fires back, pointing to his head. The rest of the people at the table are definitely staring at us now. “There is actually something underneath this hood. And I have a plan.”

I so wanna wipe the smirk off his face. But it’s true, the guy is good-looking, and clearly he’s working as hard as I am to stay in this game. So I gotta give him some props.

“If you know so much about what’s going on around here,” Brad continues, “and if you have your finger on the pulse, as you claim, why don’t you know who’s getting written off?”

I gotta admit, this catches me slightly off guard.

Now it’s my turn to shrug.

“If the studio is looking for an easy answer,” Brad says, “I have a tire iron in my trunk. I’ll make it painless, I promise.”

“Look, all I’m trying to say is it’s going to take a lot more than bringing Kayla lunch to beat me. It’s going to actually take some acting skills. And sorry. Last time I checked, there was no contest. Mine were front and center.”

I slap the table for emphasis, and the girl across the table jumps.

“Oh, ho, ho, ho…you think? Dream on. Who got twelve, count them, twelve script pages in the last episode?”

“Bro, what the fuc—” I shake my head, “Your character’s name was on twelve pages, but you were lying unconscious for ten of them. It’s not as if you had to act, for God’s sake!”

“Remember who won the People’s Choice Award? Right, that would be me.” Brad gives a low whistle. “Man, why don’t you go sit on the other side of the table?”

He pushes to his feet and walks over to the craft table, all eyes on him.

I get up and step right in line next to him. “Listen, this is getting out of hand,” I say in an angry whisper.

“Asshole, you started it.”

“I am not the asshole. You’re the one who’s playing Kayla. And if I find out that’s the case, they won’t have to figure out who to write off, ’cause I’ll kill you.”

Brad grabs a bottled water from the table and takes a long chug while I stand there and wait for a response.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist. “I feel the same way. If you’re using her to keep your job, then I really will take out that tire iron.”

Now I’m pumped the fuck up. I want a piece of this guy. I’m about to take a swing when the door opens, and in sweeps

the director’s assistant, a girl named Sandra.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” she asks, her foul mouth fast at work while her gaze sweeps the room. “You’re in the wrong fucking room. Kayla has been waiting for you for ages.”

As the rest of the cast starts getting up from their chairs, Sandra raises her hand and stops them. “No, today’s just the three wonder brothers—Brad, Scott, and Ian.”

Ah, fuck.

Kayla

“ Play it cool,” I remind myself as I pretend to be busy reading from my laptop. Sandra has gone out to look for the cast, and a few minutes later, the door opens and Brad saunters in. My nose recognizes his aftershave, distinct yet subtle.

I briefly glance at him, smile, and return to reading. My heart is bucking in my chest like a wild bronco. Take deep breaths , I think, but I steal the occasional glimpse of Brad.

How I would like to be doing something else right now, other than sitting through a reading with our director and three actors.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says casually and sits to my left.

I pretend to only just notice him now.

“Hi, Brad. How’re you today?” I am pleased with how casual I sound. There isn’t a hint of a quiver in my voice.

“Party started already, huh?” Scott has come in without me noticing it.

I reach for my coffee and take a sip. This is going to be an interesting reading.

Since my romp with Brad and Scott the other day, I haven’t been in the same room as the two of them.

“Where’s Ian?” Scott breaks the silence first.

“We don’t’ need him,” quips Brad. “A threesome is much more cozy, don’t you think?” He shoots a meaningful glance in my direction.

I notice Scott narrowing his eyes and leaning back on his chair, his lips a thin line. Have they been fighting?

Ah, and the tingling between my legs has me on edge. Perhaps I should ask for a jug of ice-cold water to be brought in.

“Who says Kayla would be interested in you?” Scott is quick with a comeback.

Brad shrugs.

“Dude, you gotta go on a limb to get ahead in life.”

Scott’s eyebrow raise to a perfect arch.

“A limb? Looks like you’ve’ gone out on a twig, my friend.”

My nerve endings are on fire. I’m trying to search for something to say to diffuse the tense situation.

“You learned your lines?” is all I manage to say. Not very imaginative, but at least both of them are looking at me now.

With each of their gazes on me, I feel heat spread through me, together with electric shock waves, as if I’ve stuck my finger in a light socket.

“For our next blow job,” Brad starts, Scott coughs, and I’m not sure what to say. “Sorry. I mean for our next con job, I suggest we target the jewelry place.”

I see Brad grin from ear to ear. He seems to be enjoying himself. He oozes relaxation.

Scott leans back in his chair, glancing at Brad sideways. His lips curl into a little smile.

“I thought we’d agree not to go after the diamonds but focus on the one gem.”

It is my turn for my brows to furrow. I flick through my notes on the computer. I’m pretty sure I didn’t write those lines.

“Ah, yes. Previous plans. The trouble with previous plans is, they are too predictable.” Brad doesn’t miss a beat.

“Now the gem. The gem is worth going after.”

Openmouthed, I watch the wordplay between the two of them, and I’m not sure what script they’re reading from.

“You started without me?”

I didn’t notice Ian come in, followed closely by Derrick, our director. Both sit down. Derrick pulls out some papers from his bag and spreads them out in front of him.

Ian crosses his arms in front of his chest.

He’s not bad-looking—it’s just the opposite, actually. Pronounced jaw, deep voice, and piercing…not to mention the sleek haircut. But he isn’t like Brad or Scott.

While the other two exude confidence, their energy a raw and manly one, Ian seems…off. I don’t know what it is, but he doesn’t strike me as the manly type.

All that would be alright if he could act, but Ian is a complete disaster.

Neither Brad nor Scott acknowledge Ian.

“Hi, Ian,” I greet the actor and nod at Derrick. “Ignore them, they’re just—”

“Comparing the size of their dicks,” completes Ian, and for a second silence descends over the room. Thankfully, I register there are no heavy objects any of them can pick up and use as a weapon.

“Kayla.” Derrick sits directly opposite from me. “Everyone’s got your next scenes, I assume?” The director, like me, has chosen to ignore Ian’s outburst.

Clearing my throat, I nod. Part of me wants to laugh, and the other wants to end the reading and hide in my office.

“Let’s take it from the top,” I say and look at Ian.

His expression is blank, and he makes no attempt at doing anything other than glare at each of us in turn.

Scott leans toward him and whispers something I cannot understand.

“I’m bored,” mumbles Ian, and I frown. I scroll to the correct spot on the script.

“And I think we should come up with something fresh.” I add for him, feeding him his line.

The man is driving me insane. He never seems to know his lines. And when he does deliver them, he lacks any kind of conviction or passion for his role.

Mental note to self: reduce Ian’s dialogue for future scenes. He may be off-limits, but I can make sure he takes a considerable backward step.

“Fresh, you say,” Scott butts in. “I think I can help with fresh.”

“You don’t know how fresh,” Brad adds, even though I’m sure it’s not his turn.

What are they up to?

“Like I said before.” Brad moves his head in Ian’s direction. “Before he came in.”

“What are you guys doing?” Ian cuts Brad off.

Scott chuckles.

“Antiques—we need to start dealing in antiques,” Brad continues without paying any attention to Ian.

“I’d rather deal with a fresh young thing.” Scott winks at me as he speaks.

“I’m tired of being—” Ian stumbles over the word being and stops.

“Ian.” I’m getting pissed off. “It’s not that hard—I’m tired of being the actor in your heist. I want to be more involved.”

I scowl at him, reading his lines from the script. The Kings is a TV show about three brothers planning a heist, not a goddamn Shakespearean play! What’s so hard about getting these lines down?

“Just keep up with the other two, would you?” My patience is running on super low today.

“If your writing wasn’t so extraordinarily bad, I wouldn’t have any trouble remembering or speaking them.”

At his words, I grip the arms of my chair. How dare the little shit insult my writing. And that smug look on his face is enough to want to make me hit him.

“Stooping to insults isn’t going to make you look better,” I say in the calmest voice I can muster.

Inwardly, a storm is brewing. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s arrogant pricks like Ian. People who stuff up and blame someone else for their mistakes really rub me up the wrong way.

“Hey, man.” Brad turns to Ian. “That’s uncalled for”

Ian glares at Brad.

“What’s it to you, Brad?” Ian emphasizes Brad as if it has four a’s and not one.

“There’s nothing wrong with Kayla’s writing,” Scott adds and smiles.

“My, my,” Ian sneers. “Two blokes drooling over Kayla. How does it feel, Kayla?” His voice is by now dripping with sarcasm.

I’m trying to think on my feet.

“Let’s just stick to the lines and say them properly.” I inject authority into my voice. My eyes search for support from Derrick, but he’s not much help.

“I would if those two wouldn’t clown around, comparing the sizes of their dicks to impress you,” Ian says, pointing at Scott and Brad.

The man is now starting to trample on my nerves, and I’m more determined than ever to kill him off, off-limits or not.

“Look, Ian.” I get out of my chair. “It’s always you who stuffs up his lines. You hardly ever remember them properly. And when you do remember them, you say them more like a zombie than a professional actor. My lunch delivery guy could do a better job than you.”

Ian is pushing his chair back, and it falls to the ground with a loud thud.

His face is redder than a tomato.

“How dare you.” His voice is barely under control. “How dare you, you bitch in heat, treat me like this?”

At his words, I feel a little heat rise to my cheeks. Who does he think he is to speak to me like this?

“She’s right, you know?” Scott now puts his two cents’ worth in as well, and Ian becomes even redder.

“You’ll be sorry, Kayla.” Ian is now shouting. “You’ll be sorry when I tell Ed.”

I watch him storm out of the room. His words perturb me only a little.

Someone is clearing their throat. It’s Derrick.

“How about we take our lunch break a little earlier today.” He glances at his watch before he adds, “Reconvene at 3p.m.”

When the door shuts, I busy myself with my laptop.

Apart from the ticking of the clock, there’s not a sound in the room.

Eventually, I look at my two remaining leads.

“Good job today,” I say and smile. I mean it. I’m not sure what the hell they were doing with all that improvisation, but I enjoyed it.

Brad grins and looks at Scott.

“Yeah, thanks, but I think we could’ve done better.”

“No, the two of you work well together. You make a good team.”

They exchange what looks like a conspiratorial glance. Butterflies multiply in the pit of my stomach. What are they planning?

“Your writing helps,” Scott says, and I know I’m blushing a little.

“You don’t have to say that.”

“No.” Brad is quick to jump in. “He’s right. Your writing is fantastic. It’s not your fault Ian is a jerk and is useless at what he does.”

I shut my laptop and look from one to the other.

“Teamwork is important, and you two are team players. I appreciate that.”

Go with the flow , I hear Angela’s voice inside my heads.

Kayla

With little sweat beads forming on the base of my neck and a slight dizzy feeling, I ponder my next move. Opportunity is presenting itself. Angela’s words ring in my ears as if she’s standing next to me.

Be a bad girl, Kayla. Enjoy it and go with the flow.

With laptop firmly closed and back in my bag, I head to the door. It’s now or never.

If I want this, I need to make my move now. And in a way opportunity has just presented itself.

“ Grab it,” I tell myself.

“I’m going to have lunch in my office.” I don’t look at either of them. Instead I keep my eyes down, as if studying the pattern on the carpet intently. “Do you care to join me?” I hope I ooze total innocence.

Instead of Brad or Scott asking which one of them I’m inviting, they both say yes at the same time.

I walk ahead of them. I wiggle my ass deliberately from side to side.

My tight miniskirt rides up just a little as I walk up the staircase. I don’t pull it down. In fact, I try and make sure it rides up a little higher with each step I take.

And I walk slowly, making sure the two men can feast their eyes on my behind. With any luck, their sexual desires are fueled, and their imaginations working overtime.

It’s an hour before I normally have my lunch. I’m not prepared to entertain anyone for lunch.

As soon as we enter my sacred kingdom—my office—I turn to my two guests.

“Care for a bite?” I bat my eyelids and smile sweetly.

Scott grins, and Brad shoots a sideways glance at the other man.

“Always,” both answer at the same time.

To slow things down, I sit behind my desk. I lean forward a little to allow each of them an eyeful of the pink lace of my bra, having made sure my top is no longer buttoned all the way to the top.

Brad takes a seat in the director’s chair, and Scott sprawls out on my three-seater lounge. I knew having a lounge in the office was a good decision.

A silent thank you is sent to Angela. Angela had assured me every writer needs a director’s chair and lounge in their office. According to her, one never knows what’s going to happen and what type of seating will be needed.

Looks like my lounge is going to be needed today, at least if everything goes according to plan.

“You boys happy for me to be in charge…?” Deliberately, I leave the question open.

Scott shrugs, and Brad nods.

“I like a woman who knows what she wants.” Scott unbuttons the top half of his shirt.

I watch them both and lick my lips. Crazy lust fills my every last pore.

This is madness. When did I turn into this crazy sex-obsessed woman? What happened to the nice girl my mother had raised?

“Let me order us something.” I dial the number of my lunch provider and order my usual, times three.

“Just ring when you are at the office,” I add before ending the conversation.

When I hang up the phone, I see Brad looking at my name certificate displayed on the wall.

“In some cultures, ‘Kayla’ means ‘keeper of the keys.’” He turns toward me. “I bet you have the key to my heart already.”

Scott jumps off the couch and joins Brad.

“It also says it means ‘wise one.’” Scott nudges Brad. “You have to agree, she’s definitely wise. The way she put Ian in her place and the stuff she writes, she definitely fits the bill.”

Both look at me, and suddenly I wonder if this really is a good idea.

“A name well chosen.” Scott walks over to my desk. He sits on the edge of it and picks up my stress ball. Slowly, he squeezes and releases it and squeezes and releases it again.

“Is that what you do for relaxation, Kayla? Play with balls?”

Scott’s eyes never leave mine as he asks the question.

It’s difficult to think of an answer quickly. Watching his fingers with the ball is almost tipping me over the edge.

Part of me wants to rush over to him and start freeing his dick and balls for a play, as Scott just put it.

Movement out of the corner of my eye distracts me.

Brad has moved next to my desk as well.

“I bet you have no shortage of balls to choose from.” It’s Brad’s turn.

I decide to play the innocent, sweet little girl.

“Did I mention you both work well as a team?”

They nod.

Scott answers first. “I think you said something about it in the reading.”

“You’re not worried by what Ian said, are you?” Brad leans forward a little, his elbows resting on the desk. His upper body is bent at the hips, and from where I’m sitting, I have a nice view of his ass.

I pretend to mull over the question, only to feast my eyes for a little longer on Brad’s delicious ass.

“I’m a little worried about him running off to Ed,” I admit. “There’s something going on between Ed and Ian, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

Scott laughs.

“By something going on, you don’t mean…you know, something going on between the two of them?”

“Please.” Brad holds up his hand. “Dude, I haven’t had lunch yet, and now I feel like puking.”

The thought is so silly it makes me laugh. I feel myself relax a little. This is good; this feels right.

“No.” I shake my head. “I definitely don’t mean that sort of going on.” I, too, find the image that comes to mind too disgusting for words.

It’s not that two men together weirds me out. I’m fine with it. I just can’t imagine anyone being that intimate with Ed.

“I can’t explain it.” I shake my head. I didn’t invite these two sex gods to my office to discuss Ed and Ian. “It’s for another day.”

“I agree,” Brad says and straightens up. I hide my disappointment. “We shouldn’t waste our time talking about those two losers.”

Scott nods.

“Back to teamwork.” I steer the conversation back to where I want it to be.

“It’s all fine and good to have teamwork on the set, in front of the camera.” I pause and lick my lips. “How are you guys with teamwork outside that environment?”

I watch the two men exchange puzzled expressions.

I leave the safety of my desk and make my way toward Brad, who’s still leaning on the other side.

Scott is watching us through narrowed eyes.

I level with Brad and rest my hand on his hand. My fingers trace his fingers. I look from one to the other.

Realization registers on Scott’s face. He comes over to stand next to me.

“You want to know if I’m a team player? With Brad?” Scott pretends to study Brad. “Of course I’m a team player, on and off the camera. And if I had to choose who I would want to be on my team, I would choose Brad, no doubt about it.”

I smile and nod.

“Good. How about you, Brad?”

I look up at him. My hand travels up his arm and draws little circles on his shoulders.

“Like Scott said. Of course I’m a team player, on and off the camera. And who wouldn’t want to be on Scott’s team? Particularly if you are the—”

He does not finish the sentence.

Smart man.

Feverishly, I try and think what I am on this team. Am I the referee, the ball, the judge, the player, or the coach? There are so many options, but I can really be only one of those.

“Especially when I’m the coach,” I finish for him.

It’s Scott who grabs me around the waist, lifts me off my feet, and carries me to the couch. Briefly, I’m taken back to the other day and the canyon run.

This is total madness and so unlike me. I feel lightheaded, as if I’m floating on clouds. Gone is the prim and proper girl who has never done anything slightly out of the ordinary.

Up until the other day, my sex life has been pretty ordinary.

Amazing how quickly my life has changed.

Brad doesn’t need a special invitation to come over to the couch. I’m breathing hard, and my nerve endings are on fire. If one of them doesn’t do something about quenching my sexual appetite, I think I might burst into flames.

With a sigh, I surrender to what is about to happen.

Angela was so right.

Be creative, and go with the flow.

I enjoy the attention of these two men who want to please me.

Brad

Are we really doing this?

Just an hour ago I was ready to exchange fists with Scott, and now here we are, alone with Kayla in her office. Now that’s what I call a good plot twist.

“Kayla,” I start to say, but she shuts me up fast. She closes the distance between us, grabs me by the shirt and pulls me into her. Next thing I know our lips are locked in a fiery embrace, and my hands are resting on her hips, making sure she keeps her perfect little body pressed against mine.

When I finally pull back from her kiss, I open up my eyes just in time to see Scott closing in on her. He places one hand on her waist and leans in, brushing his lips against her neck, his mouth tracing a straight line toward her ear.

Yeah, I guess we’re doing this.

“Is this what you meant by teamwork?” I ask her with a soft whisper, looking straight into her eyes. I feel my heart quickening – and my cock becoming as hard as a steel rod – and her lips slowly curl into a wicked grin. My kind of grin.

“What do you think?” She asks me, an easy laugh escaping her lips.

Taking one step back, she looks from me to Scott and then back. Reaching for us, she flattens the palm of her hands against our cocks, curling her fingers around our shafts as her grin widens.

“Seems like you’re also eager for some teamwork,” she continues, but I can barely hear what she’s saying. Right now, the only thing my brain can process is the way her hand feels on my cock.

“I’m more than eager,” I find myself saying, and then I just grab her hand and make her turn on her heels. Pushing her against the edge of her desk, I then make her sit up on it. With one hand, I throw all the documents and papers on top of the desk to the floor, my hand sweeping across the surface in a blind frenzy.

“That’s right,” Scott agrees with me, placing both his hands on her knees. Moving fast, he forces her to spread her legs and then goes down on one knee in front of her. Following after him, I lower one knee to the floor.

“What are you guys doing?” She breathes out, and I can tell she doesn’t want to hear a reply – she wants to see one. And we’re more than happy to oblige.

Moving at the same time, we take our hands to the hem of her skirt and push it up, only stopping when the fabric’s all bunched up around her waist. I run my tongue between my lips as my eyes meet her thong, a wet patch already showing on the fabric.

“This is what we’re doing,” I whisper, leaning in and brushing my lips against her right knee. Scott does the same and, working in tandem, we start making our way up to the wetness between her thighs.

I get there first.

I take my mouth to her inner thighs, and then I simply can’t help myself – I run the tip of my tongue over the part where her skin meets the fabric of her wet underwear, the scent of her pussy driving me completely insane.

“Fuck, I want it,” Scott groans, and without waiting for my reply he just dives in, pressing his open mouth against Kayla’s drenched thong. He sucks on her pussy over the fabric, and I do the rest – I grab the elastic band and pull it against her outer thigh, forcing it to snap. The moment the fabric rips apart, Scott pulls back from Kayla and grabs her thong, ripping it off her body.

“Now this is what I call a lovely sight,” I sigh, my eyes trained on her pink pussy lips, her skin glistening from how wet she is. Pushing Scott to the side with one shoulder, this time I take the initiative and dive into her. I part my lips and reach for her clit with the tip of my tongue while, at the same time, she rests both her hands on my head and grabs me by the hair.

I don’t even know what happens after my tongue touches her clit – she just snaps her legs shut, throwing them over my shoulders and pushing Scott to the side. Pulling me in, she starts swaying her lips from side to the side as she rubs her wetness against my face. I keep my mouth open, flicking my tongue at her as I allow her sweet taste to crawl all the way up to my brain.

I’ve always been the kind of guy that doesn’t mind about going down on a woman (if she earns it), but it’s different with Kayla. With her, I just can’t help but love every single second of it. Fuck, I could eat her out for hours and hours. Who cares about lunch when I can feast on the most delicious thing in the world?

I keep on devouring her pussy for what seems like an eternity – the good kind of eternity, that is – and, when I open up my eyes and look up at her, I realize she’s already kissing Scott. She still has one hand on my head, but her other one is busy with Scott’s cock. She has slid it inside his pants, and she’s flicking her wrist at a fast clip, stroking him as if she had no time to lose.

“Oh, fuck,” she suddenly moans, pulling back from Scott’s kiss and gritting her teeth. Her head is thrown back, and judging the way the lines in her face are deepening, I’d say she’s just a few seconds away from having her brains melt off.

Which I don’t mind at all.

In fact, I start working her with my tongue even more furiously than before, lapping at pussy with renewed strength. Using her hands like hooks, she yanks on my hair while she thrusts against my mouth, the sweet pressure of her pussy on my face making it so fucking hard that I can’t even think straight.

I have no idea what kind of sorcery Kayla worked on me and Scott, but damn – it’s working.

“OH GOD!” She screams suddenly, and I can almost feel an electric current taking over her pussy as she comes. I keep my mouth pressed against it as she surrenders to her first orgasm of the day, but I slow down the pace of my tongue. I want her to survive what’s to come…

After all, there’s so much more we can do.

Teamwork, right?

Kayla

The name’s Kayla, and I’m a bad girl.

Or, according to Angela, I’m still a good girl – I just seem to enjoy being with two men at the same time. And, really, what’s not to enjoy? Brad and Scott are the most perfect men I’ve ever encountered, and both of them want me. This is Heaven. Sure, outside this office, real life is waiting for the three of us, I know that.

But, right now, I just want to go with the flow.

“Oh, Jesus, that was impressive,” I moan, taking my legs off from Brad’s shoulders. I lean back over the desk, propping myself up on my elbows, and smile as I watch Brad go up to his feet.

His lips are glistening from my juices, and I can’t think of a more perfect sight right now. Besides, the way he eats me out…oh, God. I never even knew that I could come that hard just by having a man’s tongue taking over my pussy. But then again, Brad and Scott aren’t just any men – they’re in a category of their own.

“Seems like you enjoyed yourself,” Scott laughs, the flames of lust burning behind his eyes.

“I did,” I purr, pushing myself off the desk and resting my hands on their chest.

Without waiting for them to say a thing, I go down on my knees and hook my fingers on their belts. Working fast, I take their belts off and then unzip their pants, their cocks straining against the fabric of their boxer briefs.

Seriously, I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

“Let’s see what you got, boys,” I continue to purr, and then I tug on their boxers and the same time and free their huge cocks, both of them as hard as they’ve ever been. Reaching for them, I grip them tight and then start moving my hand up and down the length of their shafts, stroking them at a slow rhythm. Of course, that rhythm doesn’t stay slow for long – before I know it, I’m flicking my wrist so fast that I feel pain shoot up my arm. But I keep at it, looking from one to the other as I take care of their throbbing members.

“I want a taste,” I continue, tilting my head sideways and leaning in. Going for Scott first, I part my lips with the tip of my tongue and lay it against his cock. Then, I run my tongue down the whole length of his shaft, only stopping when my lips brush against his balls.

I do the same with Brad, and I keep at it for a few seconds, going from one man to the other and teasing them. Then, without a warning, I simply let go of Scott’s cock and open my mouth as wide as I can – I wrap my lips around the tip of his cock and take his whole length into my mouth, the way his shaft presses down on my tongue making me even more wet than before.

“My turn,” Brad says, grabbing me by the hair and forcing me to take Scott’s cock out of my mouth. Directing my movements, he leads me straight toward his cock and, using one hand, he brushes its tip between my lips. I open my mouth by instinct and then he just thrusts, driving his huge member all the way to the back of my throat.

Now, I know every girl fantasizes about what it’d be like to be with two men at the same time…but this is completely surreal.

I always thought that fantasies such as these were supposed to be kept locked in a vault deep inside my mind. But now, I’m having seconds thoughts. Maybe these fantasies are meant to be lived. Because, really, this beats everything I’ve ever done before.

“More, I want more. I need more,” I suddenly tell them both, Brad’s cock popping out of my mouth. “I want it all ,” I continue, my movements as lustful as they’re desperate.

I push their pants and boxers down to their ankles, and they help out by kicking off their shoes. Then, they take off their shirts as fast as they can and I simply gaze at their naked bodies, my brain suddenly freezing.

This is happening, this is happening, I repeat over and over again inside my head. This isn’t a dream.

Taking a deep breath, I let instinct take over.

I reach for Brad’s hand and push on it, forcing him to go down on one knee in front of me. The moment he’s level with me, I simply place my hands on his shoulders and push, force him to lay down. I go up to my feet fast, kick off my heels and push my skirt down my legs.

“I’ll help,” I hear Scott say, and then I feel his large hands pulling on my blouse. I raise my heads as he takes off my blouse and bra, and then I simply go for the kill.

I place my feet on either side of Brad’s thighs, and then I lower myself. Grabbing his cock, I angle it up; there’s no buildup this time. I simply ease myself down onto his cock, arching my back as I feel his thickness pushing its way past my inner lips.

“Fuck,” he groans, all his fingers digging deep into the flesh of my ass. Rocking my body back and forth, I start riding him as hard as I can right from the beginning. The time for teasing is over – now’s the time for action.

“Teamwork, remember?” I hear Scott say, and I open my eyes to see him standing by my side, grabbing his hard cock with one hand.

Before I even think of what I’m doing, I simply lean into him and take his length into my mouth. I start bobbing my head back and forth, using the same rhythm with which I’m riding Brad, and I can already feel that sweet pressure building up inside of me.

I don’t last long.

“Mmm,” I moan, the sound muffled by Scott’s cock. My pussy tightens up around Brad’s shaft, and I feel a firestorm making its way up my spine, a whirlwind of electric flames consuming every single thought inside my mind as I come for the second time today.

Had I known a threesome would be this good, there would have been no debate before.

Bad girl or good girl, I don’t care.

Scott

“Mmm,” she moans, and I feel the vibration making its way through my cock, her lips still wrapped tight around my shaft.

Fuck, I never thought I’d see Kayla like this – riding Brad with my cock deep inside her mouth. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that something like this would be possible. Hell, even if I knew it to be possible, I doubt I’d believe one day I’d be willing to share a woman like this. Especially a woman like Kayla.

I don’t know what it is about her, but I simply can’t see her as just a fling. No, there’s more to her than that. Sure, she’s the hottest woman I’ve ever been with, and she sure as hell knows how to drive a man out of his mind…but it goes beyond the obvious. She’s smart, funny, and I like the person I become whenever I’m around her.

Soon enough I’ll be writing love poems and shit.

“Alright, let’s kick this up a notch,” I find myself saying, and my voice sounds foreign to my own ears.

Right now, I’m not in control of anything I’m saying or doing. I’m just living in the present moment, enjoying the ride without thinking of the consequences. Not a good way to lead your life, I guess, but it’s the perfect way to do things when it comes to sex. At least that’s my philosophy.

“Please,” Kayla moans as I take my cock out of her mouth. Her hands are on Brad’s chest and, even though she just came, she doesn’t climb down from him. No matter, right now I’m in the mood for sharing.

“Stay there,” I tell Kayla, and she looks at me, her eyes wide with anticipation. Smiling at her, I stand between Brad’s legs and then go down to my knees right behind her. Placing one hand right between her shoulder blades, I force her to bend forward and I hold my breath as I stare at her perfectly shaped ass.

“Oh, God,” she breathes out as, with just one finger, I start caressing the length of her crack. I stop for a moment on her ass hole, and then I start sliding my finger in, readying her up for the main event.

“Please, Scott, please,” she insists, and I just take my finger out of her ass and replace it with the tip of my cock.

“Is this what you want?” I ask her, leaning in and whispering these words against her. “Is this how you want us to fuck you?”

“Yes, yes…more than anything!”

“I can’t say no to a lady,” I whisper. Using both my hands, I spread her ass cheeks wide and start sliding my cock inside her ass. I throw my head back and close my eyes as I feel her tightness. Even though I go slower, I only stop when all of me is inside her.

“So…so good,” she moans, her quivering voice making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Well, if she thinks this is good…it’s about to become so much better.

Ever so slowly, I start rocking my hips, making my cock slide in and out of her at a steady tempo. She doesn’t seem to want a slow tempo, though – instead of handing all control to me, she starts rocking her body softly, working on Brad’s cock while I take her from behind.

Kayla might not look like it at a first glance, but she’s fucking insatiable.

And that’s exactly the way I want her to be.

Hungry for my cock.

Using one hand, I grab her hair and force her to throw her head back. Holding her like that, I start ramming her hard, my thighs slapping her ass over and over again, the sound of it echoing inside the office and my own mind. Fuck, I think I’ll dream of this sound when I go to bed tonight.

While I thrust, Brad does the exact same thing, pistoning into Kayla and raving her pussy while I take care of her tight ass. We work as one, our three bodies connected by the raging lust coursing through our veins.

My hands have turned into claws, and now I have both on Kayla’s hips, keeping her in place while Brad and I fuck her into perfect oblivion. She’s no longer moaning – she’s screaming now, the sound of her voice so shrill that I can’t help but wonder if anyone can hear us outside the office. Luckily, everyone has left for their lunch break, which means we’re pretty much alone and Kayla can scream as much as she wants to.

“HARDER!” She shouts at the top of her lungs, and Brad and I don’t hesitate.

We start going as hard as is humanely possible, our cocks completely demolishing her body. Beads of sweat drip down my forehead, stinging at my eyes, but I don’t give a fuck; right now I have one concern only, and that’s giving Kayla the best fucking orgasm of her entire life.

“Don’t…” She doesn’t even finish her sentence. One violent thrust and she comes undone, arching her back and collapsing on top of Brad’s body.

Every single muscle in her body seems to be twitching, and she’s no longer moaning or screaming. She has resigned herself to silence, one born out of pleasure.

Still, Brad and I aren’t done.

While she comes, we keep on thrusting as hard as we can. Not that I can do it for much longer – I can already feel the fire of ecstasy burning deep inside me, and I know it won’t take long until I unleash all of my load inside Kayla’s ass.

“Fuck,” I groan, my train of thought derailing as I feel my cock spasming hard inside Kayla. Brad groans something at the same time, and next thing I know I’m coming, my fingers digging deep into her ass cheeks and my eyes rolling in their orbits.

Fuck, my purpose was to give Kayla the best orgasm of her life, but I think this was the best fucking orgasm of our lives.

Brad

While I get dressed for the morning, getting ready for a long day at work, I can hear Shauna click-clacking on her laptop in the other room. She’s a “heavy typer.” I’ve known a few, and it always makes me laugh.

She’s no doubt doing her morning routine, searching and reading the blogs for juicy gossip.

Some people find it odd that my personal assistant lives at my penthouse apartment, but that’s how I fucking roll. I don’t like to waste a single minute of my day, and if that means having Shauna live here rent-free, so be it. She doesn’t seem to mind, not even when I bring the odd girl home.

As I put on my watch, a Rolex, I imagine what kind of day I’m going to have. Good? Bad? Exciting? Boring? The possibilities alone are electrifying.

I’m a doer. I don’t find enjoyment in reading about what other people do. Especially not like Shauna does; she loves all that crap. But her ability to keep a finger on the pulse of this town is one of the reasons I hired her.

Shauna’s smart and savvy and remembers everything she reads. I’m lucky to have her. Truly fortunate.

I look at myself in the mirror. What a day yesterday was. It’s going to be hard to forget.

I feel myself becoming aroused. I stroke myself over my pants a few times, look at my watch, and start considering what I have time for.

“Hey, Shauna, how’s my time?”

“Looking good, Brad.”

“Do I have an extra fifteen or twenty? What do you think?”

I hear her typing away for a moment.

“Checking the traffic. Looks like there’s a minor traffic accident on the highway. I’m thinking not,” she replied. “We’re gonna need an extra few to get in on time.”

I stop stroking myself and sigh. “Okay, thanks.” I’m going to have to wait until I see Kayla again. Maybe after lunch , I think, smirking.

While tying my shoes, I hear Shauna groan or moan or something. She’s clearly affected in some way by something she’s reading. This isn’t out of the normal, but after yesterday, I’m feeling a little paranoid.

“Find something juicy?” I’m just teasing. I don’t expect her to answer, and I kinda hope she won’t.

“You could say…”

“Really?”

“Um…yeah…”

I’m done getting ready. I walk out of my bedroom to the kitchen area. I see her staring, reading, and in deep thought.

“Shauna?”

“Yes, Brad?”

When she finally looks at me, I wave.

“Oh,” she says, smiling. “Good choices. I like those colors on you. I think this outfit shows your serious side.”

“Thanks.” I nod. “What did you find?”

“Find?”

“Online.”

“Oh, right.” Her face goes back to its normal blankness. “How have things been with Kayla? Everything working out? Moving along?”

“Things are going well. Fine,” I say, not feeling like elaborating at the moment. “Yeah, fine.”

“Better than fine, I’d wager.”

“Okay. Better than fine. Why?”

“Much better than fine,” she says, winking.

I’m catching her drift. She knows something, but she’s being too shy to say it. I walk up to the breakfast nook where she’s sitting and pick up the apple she left there for me.

“You found something. What did you read, Shauna?”

“Just a couple of lines. A blind item. Nothing big….”

“But…”

“But there promises to be more.” She shrugs. “Sorry, boss.”

I take a deep breath. I’m trying to control my anger. It’s a battle, and I’m not winning.

“Show me,” I tell her.

Shauna turns her laptop to the side so I can see the screen. There, on one of the worst celebrity trashing blogs, is a headline about me and Kayla. I can hardly fucking believe it. “LONG LUNCHES. LONGER STARES. WHAT HAPPENS NEXT…”

“Fuck,” I say loudly.

Shauna does her best to deflect. “It could be about anything.”

My voice grows louder. “Fuck!”

“Maybe it’s nothing.” She tries to ease my anger.

But inside, I’m already a burning inferno of rage. “Fuck!”

I throw the apple across the room, striking a wall and knocking a framed painting off its hook.

“Brad—” Shauna begins.

“These fucking idiots, Shauna,” I say, beginning to pace. “Insiders. Paparazzi. Fucking fame seekers. What the fuck do they know? What the fuck do they want?”

“They want money.”

“I don’t need this shit. I don’t need this attention. Not now. Fuck. Not now.”

“It’s probably nothing,” Shauna repeats. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What happens next …” I reread the headline. “Shauna, what if they know what happened next?”

“What happened?” Shauna asked.

I give her a look. She knows the look. It’s the one I give when I’m about to get laid, or just did.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well…”

“Yeah.” I shake my head. “Fuck!”

“I could make some calls.”

“You know what pisses me off the most, Shauna?” I ask, but I don’t wait for a response. “Kayla really doesn’t need this. She doesn’t need any negative press right now. She’s just getting started. Just getting her stride. She’s better than these dumb blogs. She doesn’t need this. Fuck. If this hurts her career, I’ll—”

“Brad.”

I look at Shauna. She has her glasses on, she’s sitting up straight, and her lips are drawn. She looks like my middle school vice principal when she was about to doll out a punishment.

“Yes?”

“I will make some calls. I will track down the sources. I’ll see if I can’t squash this before it goes anywhere.”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

“The blood stays on my hands, Brad. That is why you hired me.”

I finally laugh. Shauna lightens the mood. I really appreciate her being able to do so.

“Yes, that’s why I hired you.” I look at the oven clock; it’s getting late. “That and your skills as a getaway driver.”

“Oh shit.”

I pick up the keys and toss them to her. She catches them with ease. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drop them.

Shauna rarely drops anything. I’m beginning to feel more confident by the second. Shauna will take care of this.

Kayla will be fine.

Everything will be fine.

Kayla

The jackhammer that has been working away in my head all morning seems to be increasing in intensity. I can’t believe we’ve been going over the same scene for the last hour.

Every time I think it’s been a take, Derrick insists it needs to be done again.

Rehearsals have never been this hard.

Last time, he didn’t like the vase on the kitchen table with flowers, which only ended up there because ten minutes earlier, he had insisted the kitchen needed to look a little brighter. Not to mention the number of times we have to stop to prompt Ian for his lines.

I will need to go and find aspirin or something similar on the next break; there’s no way I’m going to get through the day with this massive headache.

“You’re meant to be annoyed. The line is ‘Why does he get all the fun?’ It’s not hard.” I call to Ian and stomp closer to the set.

This man is really driving me up the wall. A cockroach would be more useful right now than this bumbling excuse for an actor.

I see Ian glare at me. There’s something else in his eyes, something I haven’t seen before.

“If you bothered to learn your lines, we wouldn’t need to stop every five seconds.” I flick through the pages on my e-reader.

“Brad comes in and picks on you,” I tell him, looking at the script.

Scott chuckles, and Brad whispers something to him. Briefly, I’m distracted and lose my momentum.

“And then,” I say and turn my attention back on Ian. “And then you say the seven itty-bitty words I just told you.” I lower my device and put one hand on my hips. “Brad and Scott are able to learn their lines and do the take without interruption. Why can’t you?”

Perhaps I have overstepped my mark, but I can’t keep my anger bottled up any longer. Someone has to tell this pompous ass he is useless like tits on a bull.

“Scott and Brad.” Ian mimics me.

My insides feel as though they are going to boil over.

“Instead of being the idiot on the set, you should focus on your acting. I mean, have you even read and studied your lines, or do you just turn up to annoy us?”

“Like you three studied lines the other day at lunch?”

My brow furrows, and I count to three before I feel I can open my mouth again.

“We all know who the blind piece in the gossip column was about, don’t we?” Ian continues.

I don’t want to lose self-control, but at the same time, I cannot let Ian get away with this. If the vase had still been standing on the kitchen table of the set, I would reach for it now, but one of the prop guys has moved it already.

Before I can say or do anything, Scott’s fist collides with Ian’s face.

“No need to get personal,” he hisses at Ian who crumples into a heap on the floor.

He doesn’t stay down long.

Quick as lightning, Ian is on his feet again and lunges at Scott.

Scott is nimble on his feet, and he avoids the forward-moving Ian.

It’s Brad who receives a wayward swing from Ian’s flailing arms.

I scream. Chairs are being pushed over; one of the lights crashes onto the floor, and splinters of glass explode on impact and scatter across the set.

“Stop it,” I yell into the chaos.

Brad swings a left-handed hook at Ian’s chin.

Ian ducks, and it is Brad who is unbalanced.

The spindly figure of Ian lunges at Brad, spurred by some invisible force. His arms wrap around his waist, and it appears as if he’s trying to push him across the set.

Scott comes to Brad’s assistance.

For a few seconds, I can’t work out what is happening. Three bodies go tumbling onto the floor. Prop guys are moving quickly between the fighting men to move precious filming equipment out of the way.

“Stop it,” I scream again. There’s no denying I enjoy seeing Ian get his ass kicked, but I know violence doesn’t solve anything.

I turn to Derrick. “Do something,” I demand from the director, who so far has not moved out of his chair.

With four large strides, he is at the rolling mass of bodies.

I’m not sure how he manages to separate the bundles of testosterone, but he does.

Ian is breathing hard, and blood is trickling down his chin. His lip is split, and I can see a bruise forming around his right eye.

Makeup will have their work cut out to get him ready for filming.

“Gentlemen.” Derrick keeps his hand on Ian, who looks like he wants to kill Brad and Scott. “Let’s take a break. We need to clean up the set.”

He makes no comment about the incident or what consequences will flow from it. I admire his calm manner. The man is a total professional.

I see Ian hesitate.

He turns to leave.

“You’ll be sorry.” His comment is directed at me.

I feel Brad come to stand to my left, and Scott to my right.

“You’ll be sorry you insulted me. Ed will hear about this, and you’ll be sorry.”

I take a step forward toward Ian. He doesn’t scare me.

“Newsflash, dickhead,” I yell at him. “I’m already sorry I’m in this mess. I’m sorry I have to work with you.”

I watch him leave.

Part of me wants to laugh. I know I should take his threat seriously, but with his fat lip, he sounded less than threatening.

His words did not come out clear, and he just looked pathetic and not menacing at all.

I feel Brad’s hand on my shoulders.

I turn toward them.

“You okay?”

I nod. Now that I see the total destruction of the set, the seriousness of what just happened descends on me like a giant weight.

Ed won’t be happy.

This won’t be the last of it either. And he will use this to pressure me into killing one of my men.

Kayla

I pick up my coffee cup and take a large sip of the hot black liquid. After I swallow, I smack my lips together. Boy, this feels good.

Angela, sitting across from me, is sipping on a large iced chocolate. The drink is overflowing with whipped cream.

“Mm, whipped cream. Imagine all the things you can do with whipped cream,” Angela says and grins at me.

“Stop it.” I try to sound serious. “Focus. I need you to listen. I can’t understand how my life suddenly has become so complicated,” I complain and drink more of my coffee.

Laughter peels from Angela’s lips. She puts her tall glass down and leans back in her chair.

“You’re kidding, right?”

I pretend to scowl at her.

“I mean it, Ange. All I wanted to do was to come to LA and write. Head down, bum up.”

“You’ve sure put your bum up,” teases Angela, and I regret my choice of words.

“Stop it. You know what I mean.” I roll my eyes.

There’s more laughter from my best friend.

“Lighten up, sweetheart,” she chides and leans forward to sip her iced chocolate.

I run both hands through my hair.

“The whole thing’s just crazy. My life’s crazy. Maybe I’m crazy.”

“Everyone in LA is crazy, Kayla. You should know that by now. That’s the attraction of the place. I mean, all this craziness zooming around this place and colliding with each other makes LA what it is. That’s why people come to live here, that’s why we live here.”

I groan. I’m not sure she’s right.

“What about all this stuff that’s been going on?” I persist. My bones have been rattled to the core.

“What stuff?”

I fold my arms in front of my chest. “The stuff with Ian and Scott and Brad.”

“Be more specific for me, babe, would you?”

Only my best friend is allowed to call me babe. If a man had just called me that, I would have kicked him between the legs.

I’m not sure if she’s trying to be helpful by asking questions or if she really doesn’t understand my problem.

“You know,” I try again. “Ian’s going to run to Ed and complain, and now Ed will come to me and let his anger out on me.”

Angela shrugs.

“Has anyone else complained about you?”

I think about her question for a minute. At the same time, I watch the movement and color of LA. We are seated in the outside area of the Rest A While café.

From where we are seated, we can see people pass by—they’re on their way home, to a hot date, or some other engagement. Some people are laughing, others have their heads down, and others again look straight ahead, earphones in their ears and their expressions vacant.

I imagine most of them lead fairly uncomplicated lives.

Wouldn’t it be nice to be one of these passersby who do not seem to have a care in the world?

“Earth to Kayla.” I hear Angela’s voice. Startled, I look at her.

“Has anyone else complained about you?” she repeats her question. She’s speaking slowly, enunciating each word.

“Sorry.” I smile. “I drifted off.”

“Drifted, alright.”

“I haven’t heard about any other complaints.” I don’t tell her about Brad complaining that we need to repeat our antics of the other day. I doubt Angela would class it as the sort of complaint she was asking about.

“So what are you worried about exactly?” She signals the waiter. “I feel like something fatty and sweet.”

I laugh.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?” Angela asks with total innocence.

“Eat all that fat and sugar and stay super slim.”

Her right hand waves in a dismissive fashion. “It’s easy. Plenty of sex.”

We both burst out laughing.

“And then there’s the gossip piece,” I continue and watch Angela take a forkful of chocolate cake. “It could really hurt my career.”

I’ve been worried about the effect of the piece in the gossip column since I’ve read it.

“You worry too much.”

“I worry just the right amount,” I counter.

“What’s wrong with a bit of gossip? Haven’t you heard the saying ‘Any publicity is good publicity’?”

I shake my head. “I doubt that applies to the type along the lines of head writer engages in threesome with two of her stars.”

“Why not?”

Angela is really unbelievable. I wish I had some of her attitude when it comes to what people think about me.

“It’s that bad girl stuff. Only bad girls have threesomes. I think it might affect my reputation.”

“It’s about spin. If you put a positive spin on it, it won’t give you a bad reputation. And you’re totally wrong—good girls have threesomes as well. Threesomes are all inclusive.”

Lost for a reply, I pinch some of her cake.

“It’s about time you stand up for yourself and what you believe in. You can’t just let people trample all over you. You need to stand up to Ed, and you need to work out if you want to continue to bang your two leads. And if you do, stand up for your personal choice too.”

She continues, “Just because you choose something different, doesn’t make it wrong. If you want to fuck two guys at the same time, that’s your choice. But don’t be ashamed about it.”

“Shush, not so loud. I don’t need another blind piece written about it.” I’m sure I’ve gone bright red.

Angela swallows before she replies. “If I was in your shoes, I’d be shouting it from the top of the Hollywood sign in the hills.”

She takes another bite of cake. “I’d probably write my own gossip column about it to make sure the facts are right.”

The image of Angela doing this makes me laugh. Bad girl Angela, afraid of nothing.

I know she’s right.

Of course, I know she’s right. I do need to stand up for what I want and for what I believe in. Deep down, I agree with my best friend.

Unfortunately, it sounds easier in theory than it is to do in practice.

Scott

I jog up the driveway and bang on Kayla’s door. I run my hand through my hair and hope she’s home.

I need to see her and make sure she’s okay. I still can’t believe the way Ian fucking speaks to her. She’s such a great chick, smart, with an ass to die for, and all-around gorgeous.

Just thinking about her makes me horny.

“Hi.”

I didn’t notice her open the door. Now that she’ standing in front of me in that skimpy dress, the hemline just covering her ass, I’m lost for words…briefly.

“Hey.” I smile my most charming smile.

“Want to come in?”

Do I ever?

“If it’s okay?” I play it cool. I don’t want to frighten her. She looks so vulnerable.

I just want to wrap my arms around her and protect her. Well, there are other things I want to do to her as well, but they might happen later.

“Of course it’s okay.” Kayla takes a step back and invites me in. “It’s more than okay,” she adds as I walk past her.

“Coffee? Water? Beer? Wine?”

My insides melt as I watch her make her way into the kitchen. Her butt wiggles from side to side, and I can’t get enough of looking at those gorgeous legs of hers.

“What are you having?”

Kayla gets on her tiptoes and reaches for a glass in her top shelve. As she does so, I watch her dress ride up a little, and I feel a stirring between my legs.

“Easy, boy,” I say and keep feasting my eyes on her ass. I have to restrain myself from grabbing her and pushing my dick into her pussy, right here, right now. “Everything in good time” I tell myself.

“Bubbles,” she replies and turns back to face me with two tall glasses in her hand.

“Me too.”

After I get to watch her bend over to retrieve a bottle out of the fridge and catch a glimpse of her G-string, my cock is ready for action. Fuck, this chick is hot and knows how to push my buttons.

I follow Kayla into the living room where she drapes her curvy body over the lounge. She pats the spot next to me, and I sit down.

“You okay after the shoot the other day?” I ask and watch her. I love the little dimples in her cheek when she smiles.

She shrugs.

“Ed’s not going to take it well.” It’s more of an observation than a question. “And Ian will probably become even harder to work with.”

“I can handle Ed.” I sound more confident than I feel. The punch might have just handed someone the perfect reason for me being the one killed off.

I don’t want to be the one who gets the chop. I want to keep working with Kayla. I hadn’t realized before how bad I want to stay on the show for this woman’s sake.

Ces’t la vie , I think, as long as they don’t punish my Kayla for it. Her career shouldn’t suffer at the hands of fuckwits like Ed and Ian.

“What’s so funny?”

Kayla’s question leaves me a little embarrassed. I can’t tell her I just thought of her in terms of mine.

“The look on Ian’s face when my fist collided with his.” It’s true—that was funny and very satisfying.

“I have to say,” Kayla tells me, taking a sip of her drink. “It was good to see. He is such a…” she pauses, obviously looking for the right word.

“Dick,” I provide for her.

She laughs.

I love the way she laughs. She throws her head back just a little, exposing her sensuous neck—a neck I just want to smother in kisses.

“I didn’t want to upset you,” I say.

Kayla laughs.

“You didn’t. I mean, it felt good to see him get what he deserves.”

My left hand moves from the couch onto her outstretched leg. I love the feel of her soft skin.

“At least tomorrow there won’t be gossip about you or Brad.” I keep stroking her leg. “The focus will be on the punch I threw.”

To underline my point, I throw the punch into the air with my right hand.

“It’s not the press, Scott. It’s Ed. Ed’s going to be furious.” Kayla leans back against the seat of the couch. “Ed will make us pay.”

“Ed...Ed can get fucked.”

Kayla laughs again.

“How’s your hand?”

I love how she sounds so sincere, like she really cares. And I think she does care.

I hold out my right hand and pretend to examine it.

“It’s fine. I’ve done worse during workouts. Ian’s soft all over, even in the head.”

Kayla lifts her head and shifts position. She moves closer to me. Slowly, deliberately, she takes my hand.

Little butterfly kisses cover my hand. If this is how she thanks me, I must punch Ian more often.

She stops, and I want to push her head back down, maybe even farther down than my hand.

“I just want to thank you for,” she pauses, “standing up for me like that. You were awesome.”

Her eyes practically melt my insides. Gosh, she’s hot.

“It’s okay,” I mutter and notice how dry my mouth suddenly feels.

Kayla gets off the couch and repositions herself on top of me, her legs on either side of me.

Involuntary, my hands rest on her hips.

Kayla smiles and wiggles on me from side to side. My insides start to burn with desire.

Before I know it, her lips are on mine. They are soft, sensual, and needy. I open my mouth and invite her tongue to find mine.

As we kiss, I hear her little groans. My left hand leaves her hips and pushes under her short skirt to find her wet pussy.

Her lips are pushing down on mine, and her kiss becomes even more intense, if that’s even possible.

My other hand finds its way to her breasts and starts playing with her nipples.

Thank god I’ve come to check on how she is.

Kayla

We lock lips.

Surrendering to his embrace, I start kissing him eagerly. I don’t want to waste one single second. No, I want to seize the moment and squeeze it for all it’s worth, not giving a moment’s thought to everything that’s been going on.

I want him. Now.

“Fuck, why do I want you so bad?” He whispers, his lips brushing against mine as he speaks. Getting up from the couch, he carries me in his arms and starts walking across the living room. Without taking my eyes off his, I point him toward the bedroom and he makes his way there.

The moment he puts me down, my lips found their way to his once more.

“Take it off…take it off,” I tell him, breathing harder and harder as I grab the fabric of his shirt.

He smiles. I start unbuttoning his shirt, my fingers moving fast as the desire takes over me. Pulling the shirt out from his pants, I then press the palm of my hands against his walls of abs, feeling their contour under my fingers as my pussy starts growing wet.

“Kayla…” Scott whispers as his shirt slides down his arms to the floor. With one hand on the nape of my neck, he tangles his fingers on my hair and holds me still. Leaning into me once, he brushes his lips against mine. We kiss heartily, our tongues slow dancing around one another as I press my body against his.

“I want you…” he continues.

I feel his cock hardening inside his pants, its bulging shape brushing against my inner thigh, helping me become even wetter. Ah, if we were already naked, I’d just grab his cock and guide it towards my pussy…

I move my fingers down to his belt, unbuckling it in a frenzied hurry. Pulling it from its loops, I then open the top button on his pants and push the zipper down. His cock strains against the fabric of his boxer briefs, and I feel a shiver going up my spine as my knuckles brush against that throbbing thickness of his.

Hooking my fingers on the fabric of his boxer briefs, I send them down his legs with his pants. Falling to my knees on the floor at the same time, I look up at Scott, the shadow of his cock falling over my face.

My hands climb up his legs and to his waist, my eyes not leaving his for one simple second. His cock his throbbing, almost jumping in place as if begging for me to touch it. And I do want it. I want it so bad it hurts.

Instead of attacking his cock straight away, first I deal with his shoes: untying them, I take them off his feet one at a time, and then I take off his pants and boxer briefs.

I take a moment to gaze at his naked body, and then my fingers curl around his hard cock and my hand goes up and down, deliciously savoring each inch of his member.

He grabs my head with both hands, guiding my mouth to his cock. I part my lips and, in an instant, the salty flavor of his shaft fills my mouth. My tongue traces a long and gentle circle around its tip before I allow myself to go deeper.

I open my mouth and let him slide in. His girth forces me to open wide, his length making the descent down his cock an almost never ending voyage. I go as far as I can and look up, imagining what’s going through his head.

The moment I feel my lips brushing against the skin at the base of his cock, I close my eyes and start bobbing my head up and down my length, doing it so fast that I almost can feel my brain moving inside my head. He lets out a groan. I go fast, and I go hard – I fucking know what I’m doing.

“Oh, that feels really good,” I hear him say, but I’m so lost in what I’m doing that his voice feels it’s coming at me from the other side of the room. I keep on sucking on him for a long time, and then I wrap my fingers around his cock and start sucking and stroking at the same time, my mouth and hands working as a unit.

A long and deep sigh escapes his mouth and I lower the pace, only to speed up once more. He grabs a handful of my hair, pressing my head down, his shaft almost against the back of my throat, and he holds it there for a second.

I press my tongue against his cock and pull my head back, allowing his cock to slide out gently. I still want to feel his taste on my mouth, so I lick his shaft and the pre-cum on his tip, while my hand keeps working his cock with the same rhythm I had used with my mouth.

Then I approach his tip again and fill my mouth with his pulsing length. Right now, I’m stroking him fast and sucking him hard.

It doesn’t take long for his cock to start pulsing against the inner side of my mouth and, knowing that he’s close, I push through the pain on my neck and keep going as hard as humanly possible.

I just want him to come inside my mouth.

His fingers curl against my scalp and, with one deep thrust, he comes into my mouth. It’s warm and salty, and as it gushes in a torrent inside my mouth, I can feel my skin prickling. I remain there, his spasming cock inside of me as he shoots his seed until my mouth is completely filled – both with his cock and his cum.

When his fingers on my head relax, I start pulling out, tightening my lips around his cock on the way out. He’s breathing hard and there’s a grin of satisfaction on his face.

Still looking him in the eyes, I swallow all his seed. His face lights up with a devious grin and he takes my hand in his, pulling me up to my feet.

“You’re fucking amazing, Kayla,” he whispers, leaning toward me. He grabs me, holding both hands around my waist, and lays me down on the bed.

His hands slide around my waist and under my dress, climbing up my inner thigh and making my skin prickle again. His fingers brush over my groin and, if I was wet before, I become completely drenched now.

I close my eyes, moving my hips harder and grinding against him almost desperately. A moan leaves my lips as he brushes his fingers over my thong, applying a gentle and barely noticeable pressure over my wet pussy.

One of his hands climbs up my side and crawls towards my chest, finding its way under my dress and cupping my right breast over the bra. He pulls at the cup, baring my nipple, and he presses it then between two fingers, pinching it. I rest my forehead against the mattress, biting down on my lower lip as a storm of lust rages inside of me.

Still pinching my nipple, he flicks my thong to the side and brushes the tip of his finger against my wet pussy. My whole body shudders in anticipation.

He traces the contour of my pussy as if he wants to absorb all of it, carefully brushing against its outline and gentle circling my clit.

He does it for one minute, carefully coming and going, each time applying just a little bit more of pressure.

Then, without any kind of warning he slides one finger inside my pussy. Instinctively I push my hips against his hand, eager for the touch of his hands and body against my pussy.

Before I can even gasp, his mouth is wrapped tight against my pussy, and he starts sucking there as if he has been thinking of doing it all day long.

I put one leg over his shoulder as he licks at me and, now having a better angle, he slides two fingers inside of me in an instant. I gasp, closing my eyes as I press my back into the bed, thrusting my pussy against his mouth as he fingers me.

Pulling out from me, he pushes the thong down my legs and I just kick it away to the corner; his mouth is on me again, devouring me with such intensity that I can barely keep my eyes open.

Sliding one more finger inside me, he keeps fingering me until my pussy starts to spasms and becomes tighter; immediately he presses his tongue over my clit and, moving it in circles, he makes my muscles burn in under a second.

And just like that, I come.

“I’m going to fuck you really hard, Kayla”, he says, pulling out his fingers from my drenched pussy.

That´s all I wanted to hear.

Scott

“Are you ready to go again?” she asks me with a provocative tone. She gets up quickly and goes on all fours on top of the mattress, shaking her delicious ass in front of me.

I don’t answer her. I just grin and place my hands around her waist and pull her harshly toward me.

She juts her ass me, pressing it against my body, and I have to close my eyes as I feel her wetness so dangerously close to my cock. Swaying her hips from side to side, she grabs her dress, keeping it up on her waist, and grinds against my cock as hard as she can. I pull back before she can complain, though, my hand goes directly to her dress tugging on it with hurried movements. I grab the zipper of her dress and start pushing it all the way down. Then, she presses her legs together as I pull the fabric down her legs; at the same time, she takes off her bra.

I lean toward her and with both of my hands I give her breasts a hard squeeze.

With my chest on her back, the outline of my muscles pressed against her skin, she starts rocking her ass against me once again. She darts her hands back trying to reach my cock.

Grabbing my cock, she guides it toward her pussy, but I pull back. I’m going to make her suffer for a little while. Over her shoulder, she looks back at me with an impatient face. She wants to be fucked now, to feel my whole length inside of her. And that´s exactly what I’ll do.

In an instant.

Still with her on all fours, I lean in and take my mouth to her pussy. I kiss her inner lips gently and then start moving my tongue up and down; at the same time, I gently insert one finger inside her – and then two fingers – and start to move them in and out of her. She’s so wet her juices are flowing down her legs.

Still fingering her, I start tracing a path with my tongue toward her ass crack. When I lightly touch her hole, she allows a heavy moan to escape her mouth and her whole body shivers with pleasure.

Right now, I’m doing more than just teasing Kayla – I’m teasing myself as well. I’m so fucking hard. I need to feel the warmth of her pussy around my cock.

Pulling my fingers out of her, I slap her ass hard enough for her to moan and bite her lower lip. She half-expects me to smack her ass again, but the next thing she feels is my thick cock pressing against her pussy. She pushes her ass backwards by instinct and I bury my cock in her to the hilt.

I’m not being gentle.

I start to thrust at her like a hungry ferocious beast, each movement I make drawing a high-pitched scream out of her lips.

Leaving one hand on her waist, I reach for her breasts, feeling her hard nipples against the palm of my hands. I squeeze her right breast as I pound her hard, each time going faster than before.

“Harder!” She screams. “Harder, Scott! Don’t stop!” she continues, bucking her ass back at me, my thighs slapping hard on her ass cheeks and my balls on her pussy.

I piston into her mercilessly, my cock going in and out her at full speed.

“Don’t – ” she starts to say again, but I’m fucking her so fast that this time she doesn’t manage to finish her sentence.

Her pussy tightens up around my cock like a vice as she bunches up the sheets, clawing at the mattress like a wild animal, and that’s when a wave of pleasure hits her. Her whole body tenses up and she collapses, her body going limp and shaking at the same time as she comes hard.

“More,” she asks me as she tries to get up, her muscles still twitching.

Sitting up, she makes me sit on the edge of the bed, placing her arms over my shoulders. As she does it, she raises one leg at a time and sits on my lap, straddling me while I cross my legs. The moment she´s on top of me, she bucks her hips hard, pressing her pussy against my shaft and pinning it against my body.

She keeps on swaying her hips, grinding against my cock and smearing her juices all over my thighs. She presses against my cock so hard that it makes me groan.

“Give me that pussy,” I tell her with a wicked grin.

She opens some space between her pussy and my cock, reaches for it with one hand and curls her fingers around it. She angles it downward so that my tip is pressing against her inner lips but, instead of allowing me inside her, she just brushes it up and down the length of her pussy. My whole body is as tense as a nocked arrow, and I genuinely don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to endure this torture.

Locking her eyes on mine, she finally raises her hips a few inches, allowing the tip of my cock to be pressed against her inner lips. Holding her breath, she then lowers herself as fast as she can, literally impaling herself on my big cock. The tip of it parts her drenched folds in a fraction of a second as she violently lowers herself.

Gritting her teeth, she starts bucking her hips against me, swaying them back and forth in such a way that I feel wildfire burning inside my muscles.

She rides me as hard as she can right from the start, allowing my cock to ravage her mercilessly. She keeps going like that for God knows how long, large beads of sweat dripping down her forehead.

She rides me into oblivion, and she only ease her rhythm when she feels her insides clenching.

“Oh, I’m gonna…Oh, fu – ” she starts to say, but then her words turn into a drawn out moan as I feel her pussy tightening up around my cock viciously.

She moans as loud as she can. Digging her fingernails into my chest, she throws her head back and closes her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she holds her breath as she endures the sweet whipping of an orgasm, the pleasure raging through her veins turning her smile into one of the best things I’ve ever seen.

Kayla

I groan as he pulls his cock out of me, and then roll to the side and allow myself to lay there in the mattress, by body collapsing from exhaustion as I try to catch my breath. My arms and legs are sprawled, and I feel as if I’m floating.

But Scott still has some strength left.

Placing his hands on the back of my knees, he drags me to the edge of the bed; there, he pushes my legs up and I have no other choice but to rest them over his shoulders.

Leaning into me, he forces me to bend over and guides his cock straight home, pushing it past my pussy lips and drawing a high and mighty moan out of my lips. Sweet Jesus, what is this man doing to me? This isn´t sex – this is magic, the kind you’re not sure if it’s real or not.

His cock is ramming me furiously as his thighs slap against my ass, flesh on flesh, lust coating our bodies. Even though I’m a writer, I’m not sure if I’m capable of finding the right words to describe the amount of pleasure that has taken over my body. It’s simply too much, far beyond the realm of what I thought to be possible.

I start screaming as the fury of his pounding turns into electric delight, my body wrapped tight in a blanket of pleasure. Our bodies sway at the same rhythm for God knows how long, and I just close my eyes and surrender to the moment.

He doesn’t stop or slow down – he keeps pushing through my moans and my screams, pounding me mercilessly as I push my voice to the limit.

I’m screaming, I’m screaming as loud as I can. My body is trembling as if I’ve lost control of all my limbs. My legs and arms are flailing, and I almost feel like crying in pleasure. Scott remains still, rocking his body against mine as I simply vanish into a higher dimension.

After a few more thrusts, he suddenly pulls his cock out of my pussy and, grabbing me by the waist with both hands he turns me around, my back now turned to him.

“On your fours. Now.” He commands me, and the tone of his voice leaves no room for hesitation.

I obey, and I do it quickly. Wasting no time, he slides his hand from my clit to my ass crack. Then he gently inserts his finger inside my hole. I moan as he slides in and out each time harder and deeper.

He goes as deep as he can, and then starts to move it in a pendulum motion, my body aching for more than just a finger. But there’s no need for despair. As if he could read my mind, he takes his fingers out of me and replaces them with his large cock, it pressed tight against my hole.

With his hands on my ass cheeks, he spreads them wide as he eases himself in, his cock pushing back against my inner walls as it advances steadily inside my ass.

I scream as he goes all the way in.

He pulls back slowly before going in again, his body rocking against mine. Making sure that he’s not going anywhere, I start bucking my hips against him.

I’m breathing hard, the muscles around my lungs so numb with pleasure, that I’m having a hard time doing something as simple as breathing. He starts going faster, his cock settling into a crescendo rhythm, and my ragged breathing turns into a cadence of wild moaning.

He leans even more into me, pressing his body against mine. As he comes and goes, each time his cock goes deep inside of me, he starts rubbing my clit with one finger, an expanding pressure spreading throughout all of my body.

Like holding my breath, I know that the moment when I won’t be able to endure any longer is coming.

That’s pretty much how I feel right now.

I summon all my strength and tense up my legs, jutting my ass and thrusting my hips hard against him.

He continues until my body simply can’t endure any longer.

My mind is exhausted, my muscles tense and pulsating, trembling with pleasure. But he goes on, thrusting in and out my ass as hard as he possible.

“Oh, fuck,” I whisper, and I close my eyes and surrender to the inevitable.

I let go of the world.

My muscles tense and the whole universe explodes inside of me, my mind flooded by a tidal wave of pleasure.

I scream, an impossible cry of pleasure. My whole body trembles – my face, my arms and my legs. I throw my head back and close my eyes. My body explodes once more, an impossible and powerful orgasm shaking every inch of my body and soul.

He continues, burying his whole length deep inside my ass, and a few seconds later I feel his whole body becoming taut and his breathing heavier. With a final thrust I feel his cock spasming against my insides, and then he unleashes his seed, filling me up to the brim.

I collapse on top of the mattress, stomach down, while he keeps his cock gushing inside me. My skin prickles as I feel his cum dripping down my legs, and I grab at the sheets once more, bunching them up in my hands.

When he pulls out of me he rolls to the side on the mattress, lying down by my side.

We stay there for a long time, just catching our breath in the silence of the bedroom. Then, doing it gently, he reaches for my hand and locks his fingers on mine. We don’t say a word – we just enjoy the closeness of our spent bodies, holding hands.

I don’t know when this became more than just a fling, but there’s no doubt in my mind…

This is way more than just a fling.

Kayla

With my left hand, I squeeze my stress ball, and with my right hand, I doodle on a blank page in my notepad. I’m hoping this distraction will leave me as calm as possible for my upcoming meeting with Ed.

I glance at my wristwatch. Five more minutes before I have to face him. I’m not looking forward to this meeting, but I know there’s no way I can get out of it.

My eyes leave my notepad and find my name certificate. “Wise one” is meant to be one of the meanings of Kayla . Pity I’ve missed out in the wise department. Obviously, Mum had chosen the wrong name.

If I were blessed with wisdom, I would know what to do, more to the point I wouldn’t have even gotten myself into the situation I’m in. I sigh and look at my scribbles.

Have I just doodled a penis and balls? I frown and stare at the shapes.

My door opens, and Ed breezes in to interrupt my thoughts. He has his mobile held against his right ear. It seems to be a permanent feature there.

Quickly, I turn the page. I don’t want Ed to see my art work.

“Got to go,” I hear him say.

Three minutes early, I see.

“Hi, Ed.” I try and inject enthusiasm into my voice.

“Have you done it?”

Straight to the point, no pleasantries, no small talk.

“Done what?” I stall. Of course I know what he’s referring to, but I want him to spell it out.

“If you haven’t decided which one you’re going to kill, I’ve decided for you.”

I hold my breath. I’m on the edge of my seat, and I feel as if I’m watching a thriller with me as the main character.

“You have?”

“You will need to get rid of Scott.”

I breathe out slowly. “Think before you speak,” I silently tell myself, but I can feel my innards rupture from emotional explosives.

“Why?”

Ed crosses his legs and brushes invisible things off his trouser leg.

“Surely you know?” Ed stares at me. I shrug. “After the altercation between Scott and Ian, I think we can all agree it is Scott who has to go.”

I don’t agree at all. If anyone should go, it should be Ian, but I keep this to myself. I try and bide my time.

I try to sound in total control when I reply.

“I think Ian is overreacting. He had a bad day filming. Everyone got frazzled, and testosterone got in the way.”

I look at Ed to gauge his reaction.

“That’s not what Ian said.” Ed glances at his phone. “Don’t let your feelings get in the way of good judgment.”

Is there a hint of a threat in Ed’s voice?

“I think it would be a mistake to get rid of Scott. Brad and Scott work well together. They are a team, just like the characters they play. The show needs them.”

“Get rid of both of them then.”

My mouth drops open. Did I hear that right, or is there something wrong with my hearing?

“If you think one is not going to be good without the other, kill them both and make Ian the star of the show.” Ed pauses. “Problem solved.”

He hesitates before he adds, “Don’t let your personal feelings get in the way of your career, Kayla.”

I’m too stunned to be able to reply. Has he lost his mind? How the hell would that work?

I can’t just kill off two of the main stars of the show—the only two that are really any good.

“A car accident is always good. With some good writing, you can string it out and keep the audience in suspense for a bit.”

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I try again and feel like a fish out of water.

Just then, Ed’s phone rings. He looks at the screen, presses the answer button, and leaves my office.

I’m not sure how long I sit and stare at the chair where Ed had sat during the meeting. It wasn’t really a meeting, I decide, more like a dictator come to tell me what to do. From my point of view, a meeting was about discussing different ideas, working through a problem.

The longer I sit and ponder, the angrier I become.

Eventually, I push my chair back and make to leave my office. I scribble something on a blank page and walk out.

The note on my computer will let anyone who’s looking for me know I’ve taken the rest of the day off.

There’s no way I’ll be able to get any writing done after this meeting. I may as well get out before the walls close in on me. They are suffocating me as it is.

I drum my fingers on my steering wheel for a few minutes before I drive out of the car park and turn left.

I have no idea where I’m going. It’ll do me good to just go for a little drive.

As I make my way through the traffic, I replay Ed’s words. Just get rid of both of them .

It was nuts. There was no other way to describe his reaction.

The show doesn’t have enough traction to survive the two main leads being written out. While I don’t make a point of reading the reviews regularly, I’m aware the audience hasn’t warmed to Ian.

Without paying attention to where I’m going, I turn left, right, and left again, and I meander through downtown LA.

I enjoy working on the show, and I have plenty of ideas of where it could head. After the first season, I was brimming with ideas and creativity. Ed hasn’t been interested.

Ed.

I decide Ed is the problem, together with Ian, in all of this.

Of course, Angela is right, and I really need to start to speak out and stand up for what I believe in.

I take another left-hand turn and notice I’m in Brad’s street. I sigh and slow down.

Outside his house, I stop the car.

I know Brad must be home. He isn’t scheduled to shoot at the studio today.

I take deep breaths in and out before I get out of the car and walk to the front door of Brad’s house.

Brad

I don’t remember when I started running on my elliptical machine. But the mileage is up to almost four and a half miles. I’m zoning out; mad one minute, sad the next. I’m feeling completely and utterly frustrated the whole time. Fucking useless. I hope Shauna can figure this mess out.

Shauna has the day off. She has a home life too. I often forget she’s married and has a teenage kid…a daughter named Sam—no, a son named Sam.

Yeah, I can’t recall; I really should remember.

All I can think about is the trouble this blog has created. It’s the last thing I wanted. The very last thing.

I know my career can handle the stress, but not Kayla’s…hers is just starting.

Toweling the sweat off as I cross my house, I head for the shower. All I want is to rinse off quickly and then make myself some dinner.

I have some top-notch steaks marinating in Worcestershire sauce and some chopped-up onions and mushrooms waiting to be grilled. My stomach growls. Yeah, it’s going to be delicious, and after all the calories I just burned, I have nothing to worry about if I eat it all.

That’s my plan—eat until I’m stuffed and then fall asleep on the couch, watching a movie.

While showering, I think I hear my doorbell. A UPS delivery no doubt—my new cell phone charger. I get out of the shower and start drying my body. I can hear my assistant’s words in my head.

“You always say not to leave the packages at the door too long. Kids like to steal things that look like they came from Amazon or Best Buy,” I say to myself, a reminder to rush out to get it.

I’m still pulling on my Nike sweatpants when the doorbell rings again. Either the UPS delivery guy has made a mistake, or someone’s here. I wonder who?

“I’m coming!” I shout.

Dashing through my house, I pull my T-shirt on. I would have liked to dry my hair too, but the doorbell rings a third time. Whoever is at my door is in a damn hurry.

“Coming!”

I kinda fling the door open. Not meaning to. To my surprise, there’s Kayla turning, about to walk away.

“Hey. Hey you,” I say, grabbing her attention.

“Hey, Brad. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” I wave her in.

I’m so happy to see her. My day’s suddenly shaping up. I cannot wait to see where this is going to go. Maybe, if I am lucky, I will get…well…lucky.

“So…what’s happening, Kayla? I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” I smile. “But I sure am happy you stopped by.”

“It’s a mess, Brad.”

Oh shit. I feel my heart drop to the floor upon seeing her upset face.

“What’s wrong?” I say. “Tell me what I can do to help. Anything. Just say it.”

“I don’t know.”

Kayla’s voice is full of defeat. Watching her plop down, basically giving up on my couch is enough to break my heart. I’m quickly realizing I will do anything—whatever is needed to help and protect her.

I really care. These are not just words falling out of my mouth. These are not empty promises. I mean them.

“Kayla—”

She whines. “What…”

“Kayla, listen to me, okay?”

“Yeah?” She peeks up at me; she’s looking so sad it’s ridiculous.

“I’ll quit the show. Okay. I’ll quit. Maybe that will help. I mean it has to, at least, make things a little easier for you, right?”

She’s stunned. I can see it on her face. “You’d do that for me? You’d quit for me?”

“I would.” I smile. “Quitting will not hurt my career.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I get offers all the time. I have a few sitting on the table right now. I can call Shauna and she can tell you herself. There’s always some producer or director waiting on me. This won’t slow me down at all. No. I’ll be fine.”

She’s quiet for a moment. I’m not sure if she’s going to cry or what. So I kneel before her and take her tiny hand.

“Is that what you want?” she asks me. “Do you want to quit?”

Her eyes look pained. I can tell she doesn’t want this either.

“No. Of course not. I don’t want to quit. You’re an amazing writer, and I love working with you. This is the most excited I have been about a role in a long time. But all that said, I will quit. Gladly. If it helps you.”

She stands up suddenly and wraps her arms around me in a big hug. It feels nice. Not just her body pressed against mine, but the sentiment feels good.

Kayla feels good.

“Thank you for saying all that, Brad. Really.”

“I meant it,” I whisper in her ear. “Seriously, Kayla, if it is your career or mine…then I’ll quit to protect you.”

She hugs me tighter. It feels like she doesn’t want to let go.

I stay in her embrace for a bit. And when she loosens her hold, I quickly acquire her eye contact by gently pinching her chin. “You are amazing, Kayla.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

Leaning in slowly, I can feel the heat from her mouth before my lips even reach hers. Pressing them lightly, I hope she welcomes their presence, and she does. Her mouth opens slightly.

She smells like roses…roses and sex.

God, I want her so much.

Kayla

I throw my head back, baring my neck to him, and he savors my skin with gentle kisses. I pant each time his lips touch me, a gentle fog of pleasure blanketing my mind. I get out of his hold with cat-like movements, freeing my hands and taking them to his t-shirt, my frantic fingers pulling it from his body.

I take off his shirt then and, almost with a growl, I press the open palm of my hands on his pectorals, feeling all the warmth coming from his skin under my fingertips. He presses his body against mine, sending a shiver down my spine, and then grabs a handful of hair on the nape of my neck.

Holding my head, he presses his mouth against mine; fireworks go off behind my eyelids as we kiss savagely, our tongues dancing and fighting against each other with abandonment.

Still kissing me, he makes me take a few steps back, until we reach the couch. Then we sit down.

“Come here, Kayla,” he says, taking me by the hand. I obey him, sitting on his lap.

I slide my hands up his knees, slowly raising them until finally only my fingertips are touching the fabric of his sweatpants. Without taking my eyes from his, I take my hands to my chest and unbutton the top of my blouse, the patterns on the black lace bra I am wearing peeking at him.

I can feel him aching for more, the impulse to just grab me by the waist, push me closer and just rip my blouse open darting across his face. But he remains still.

I rest my hand against his chest, the warmth of his body coming at me. I bite my lower lip and look at him, his eyes begging for me almost desperately.

In a swift motion I lace my arm around his neck and pull myself to him, sitting across his lap. Reacting by instinct, his hand goes to my waist, his long fingers brushing against the exposed skin between my skirt and blouse. It only takes that, his fingers on my skin – and I immediately feel a pulsing heat between my thighs, a piercing desire to just hike up my skirt and let him have me there and then.

I still can´t believe he would have given up on the show just to protect me. I want him so much...I just want to touch him, to do things with him. And I’m not just talking about sex. No, it goes deeper than that.

I pull his sweatpants hard down his legs. His hands fly to my waist and he turns me around, pulling down the zipper of my skirt. I push it down with the tip of my fingers, my bare ass turned to him.

I can feel his eyes banqueting on the vision of it, enjoying the shape of my ass and delighting on how only just a small strip of thong covers me.

With my back still turned to him I give a step into his direction and lower my ass into his crotch. It fits neatly against his cock, and I rub myself against it, the length and thickness of it almost making me moan. Our hips sway against each other, a frenzied lust driving both our bodies.

I’m so wet I’m almost expecting it to drip down my legs.

Wasting no time, I get up and turn myself to him.

His hand grips my jaw, index and middle finger sliding inside my mouth. My lips wrap around his fingers instinctively, sucking on them gently. My tongue swirls around it and my body throbs as I imagine his cock between my lips.

Doing it as slowly as I can, I place my hands on his outer thighs, hooking my fingers on his boxer briefs. One little tug and his member springs free, and just seeing it again, my skin prickles.

Leaning into him, I close my eyes as I approach his cock. I part my lips and let the tip of my tongue out, resting it against the tip of his cock and allowing the saltiness of his pre-cum to coat my tongue.

I take my time, flicking my tongue and using it to circle the fat head of his cock. Tilting my head sideways, I then run the tip of my tongue down the length of his shaft. When I finally get to the root, I place one hand under his balls and start massaging them.

Guided by instinct, I open my mouth as wide as I can and suck one of his balls in, allowing its full weight to rest over my tongue. I do the same with the other one, wrapping my lips tightly around it as I keep on lapping with my tongue, and only then do I go back up his shaft.

This time, I go beyond his tip. I open my mouth wide again, allowing the tip of his cock between my lips, and then I start lowering my head over his length. His cock pushes down on my tongue and against the inside of my cheeks, filling me all my mouth.

I push my mouth down his huge cock, going as deep as I can. When my lips reach the base of his shaft, I hold my position for a few seconds, feeling the tip of his cock throb against the back of my throat and savoring all his inches.

Then I start bobbing my head up and down as fast as I can, both his hands on my head guiding my movements. I don’t even bother with building up a rhythm; I just suck him violently from the start, ravaging his cock with my mouth…or the other way around.

As his muscles start to become tense, he pulls out of my mouth, pulling my head back with both hands. Then he leans forward and grabs me by the hand, pushing me up.

His mouth goes to my neck then, savage kisses and soft bites finding their way through my skin. He starts unbuttoning the rest of my blouse and then, when the last button comes undone, he takes off my blouse with a single yank, leaving me only in my bra and thong. Taking his hands straight to my shoulder blades, he unclasps my bra and takes it off as well, revealing my breasts.

“I want you so bad, Kayla,” he says, his hand tracing a line between my neck and my right breast, then circling my nipple with his fingertip.

“I want you too. I want to feel you inside me”

I guess I don’t have to say anything. My whole body is whispering, fuck me right now, Brad, please .

He smiles at me, pinches my nipple twice as my wetness grows by the second. He then leans into me, his mouth going toward my breasts.

While his tongue dances around one nipple, his fingers start caressing the other one.

He takes me back to the couch, laying me there. He sits by my side and, stretching one arm in my direction, he reaches for my thighs. With his fingertips he starts drawing the outline of my wet thong, lightly pressing on my aching pussy.

With a single movement he pulls my thong off, making it slide down my legs; I balance it on one foot for a second, and then just kick it across Brad’s living room.

I sway my hips, but he takes his other hand and holds me in place by the hips.

Slowly parting my pussy lips, he takes his finger all the way up my crevice, and only then does he brush his fingertip against my clitoris

I exhale sharply, his fingertips caressing my wet lips with a maddening gentleness. He keeps his soft rhythm and slowly drives me to the edge with his touch. Ah, I love it.

Suddenly, he slides a second finger inside me and starts upping the pace. His fingers slide in and out my insides while he´s rubbing and pressing on my clit with his thumb.

I’m screaming now, and I’m also moaning. God, I don’t even know which one I’m doing. I can’t see straight, I can’t hear a thing. In this exact moment, the only thing my mind can process is the way Brad’s fingering me, pushing me toward the edge of ecstasy.

I moan, feeling everything in me burning up, from my toes to the tip of my hair. I moan between my gritted teeth, my pussy tightening around his fingers as I come.

After a few seconds, and without a word, he goes up to his feet and picks me up from the couch. Carrying me in his arms, he makes no detours – he crosses the living room and goes up the stairway, In the upper floor of his house, he goes straight for the bedroom, gently placing me down on the mattress.

Brad

I lay myself next to her and find myself thinking, knowing in my heart that no woman has ever made me feel like this. And no, I’m not talking about the sex only. There’s that, of course, but it goes way deeper than just our bodies. It’s something…different.

At least for me.

I’m not used to this feelings shit.

I roll to the side, my body meeting hers as I reach for her lips. As we kiss once again, I position myself between her knees, keeping them wide. I can feel her body still shivering from the last orgasm.

Then I take my mouth from hers, brushing my lips down her body. I grab a pillow and put it under her ass, lifting up her thighs a bit more. By now, she has already realized what I’m going to do.

“I want it…now,” she moans.

“Patience is a virtue,” I grin, mischievousness making my heart drum fast. I move away from her pussy to look at her. Her eyes are closed, her skin prickled.

I start running my fingertips up and down her inner thighs, avoiding her pussy, which is making her impatient.

“Come on…I want it,” she continues, grabbing my hair, trying to bring me closer to her pussy.

I gently press my lips against her inner thighs, kissing them first, and then licking them, drawing a line that reaches closer and closer to her wetness. Then I finally touch her, her lips allowing the escape of a moan of pure pleasure.

With my fingertips I trace the outline of her outer lips, and then go back to her inner thighs. She’s becoming insane, her fingers tangled on my hair, her thighs moving fast in order to become closer to my mouth, her whole body wanting to feel the warmth of my tongue inside her.

I slowly start kissing and sucking her inner lips, while I slip one finger inside her wetness, as deep as I can, and hold it there.

Then, I move it in and out at an increasing speed. At the same time, I reach for her clit with my tongue, pressing it there.

I begin to move my tongue in circular motions around her clit while fingering her, now faster and harder than before.

It doesn’t take too long until her legs wrap around my neck, and she thrusts her pussy against my face, her whole body tensing up.

I love doing this. Her smell, her taste.

This woman really got me good.

She lets out a scream, one loud enough to be heard for miles. Her whole body twitches as she comes, her pussy tightening around my fingers again.

Giving her no time to rest, I position myself on top of her and she laces her legs around me.

I allow my tip to part her drenched folds and, the moment her inner lips are wrapped around the head of my cock, all hell breaks loose. My thick shaft strains against her inner walls on the way in, stretching her wide.

I thrust my cock deep into her in a single movement, burying all my length inside her aching pussy. My long inches move fast, stabbing her violently fast, as she screams as loud as she can.

She can’t hold out any longer. She bites her lip against a loud moan as her entire body is flooded with intense pleasure. Each thrust of my cock sends another powerful shockwave through her body, her toes curling and her fingers digging hard into my back.

Moving fast, her movements fluid and desperate, she kneels on the mattress and forces me to lay down.

She grabs my cock and, wanting to have me inside her mouth once more, she leans towards me, engulfing me with her lips straight away. Grabbing her hair, I push my cock down her mouth, pushing through my last inches until her lips are touching the root of my length.

As her mouth moves up and down my cock, I groan softly. She reaches one hand up to circle the base so she can take my cock all the way into her throat. She holds it there for a moment, moving up and down enough to rub my head against the inside of her throat. Pulling away, she circles her tongue around my head as she gasps for air, her hands working my while she catches her breath.

But more than having me in her mouth, she needs me inside her pussy again.

I just need to feel her warm pussy around my cock again.

She lets go of my cock as I get out of the bed.

“Come here, Kayla.”

She comes without any hesitation and I force her to turn around and bend over the edge of the bed.

Massaging her ass cheeks, I slide one hand between her legs and rub my fingers from her clit to her ass, and then ease myself into her. She presses her forehead against the mattress, sweat trickling down her back, as my cock parts her pussy lips and lodges itself deep inside her once more.

She juts her ass back and starts swaying her hips slightly, moving them from side to side as she rocks her body against mine at the same time.

I press into her with all my weight, going as deep as I can.

I enjoy the feeling of every inch of my cock sinking inside her pussy, as I slap her ass.

With every thrust I speed up gradually until I am fucking her mercilessly. One of my hands rests on her lower back and I wrap the other around her hip, fingers digging into the curve where her hip meets her thigh so I can fuck her even deeper than before. I admire the red prints left on her ass by my hand, one of my fingers teasing over the tender skin.

She’s gritting her teeth, each thrust I make making her body tense up. I keep my relentless pace.

This is fucking perfection.

Kayla

He keeps on upping his pace until I just can’t take it anymore. I throw my head back, my hair falling down my shoulders, and let out one mighty scream, loud enough for every single person in the whole city to hear it.

“So good,” I purr as I feel the smooth fingers of an orgasm caressing my mind.

Slowly, he pulls his huge cock out of my pussy and let go of my hips, allowing me to collapse on the bed. I tilt my head to the side, contemplating his face, beads of sweat running down his forehead, as he sits on the mattress by my side, his legs crossed.

“Don’t tell me you’re already tired.” He grins, his mouth reaching for mine and falling perfectly on my lower lip.

“I want more. I’ll never be tired of you. Of us.”

Oh my God, I can’t believe I said that.

He smiles. With some strength back in my legs, I get up and jump into him, wrapping them around his waist.

I grab his cock and place it right on my pussy, its tip resting on top of my inner lips. He bucks his hips at me, my inner folds parting and engulfing his thick head. His lips curl into a grin and, before I can even prepare for it and ease myself down, he grabs me by the waist.

He holds me in place as he thrusts hard. The moment his shaft slides inside of me, it’s as if my body is burning from the inside out. I lean more into him, my fingers clawing at his shoulders as I begin to ride him as fast as I possibly can, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

I lean into him, my lips looking for his, and I kiss him once again. Surrendering to lust, I explore his whole mouth with my tongue, our thighs moving in a frenetic dance.

Pulling back from his kiss, I let a loud moan erupt on my lips and I drag my fingernails across his shoulder blades harder enough to draw blood.

Every single muscle in my body tenses up, becoming as hard as concrete, and my inner walls tighten up around his thick shaft once more. Then, before I can even process what’s happening, I’m hit by a veritable bomb of pleasure.

My eyes roll in their orbits, and it feels like as if both my lungs, my heart, and my brain have turned into balls of fire.

And I come again.

He pulls out from me, but he doesn’t need to be told what to do. I haven’t even had the time to breathe and he’s already behind me, slapping my ass and rubbing his thick fat cock over my pussy as I wiggle my ass.

He rams it in me in an instant and, before I can even control myself, I let out a violent scream. He’s ramming me so hard, I lose all notion of where I am – I don’t care about anything anymore.

Still inside of my pussy, he places his long fingers over my cheeks from side to side, and a shiver goes up my side as I feel his fingertips over my crack. Noticing it, he spreads my cheeks wide and then starts caressing the gap. He stops right over my asshole then, pressing gently there.

“Oh, God,” I gasp as he starts pushing his finger inside my ass, the movement of my body growing more erratic and violent. He truly drives me crazy, there’s no doubt about it. And that’s exactly the way I want it.

He starts fingering me as I rock my body back and forth, waves of pleasure crashing against my body as I forget to breathe.

Then, he pulls his cock out of pussy and his fingers off my crack, and presses his tip on my ass hole.

He goes all the way deep inside me, and I scream with pleasure. He starts thrusting and I push my ass back, allowing him to go deeper and deeper.

With one hand he holds my waist, and with the other he reaches for my clit, rubbing it with his almost magical fingertips.

After that, his fingers leave my clit and start running over the length of my pussy, up and down, while he fucks my ass good, no mercy left to his movements.

I can´t even describe what I’m feeling right know. I’m dizzy, my whole body focused on his movements as I try to keep up with his pace. I’m drunk in sex, sweating pleasure through my bare pores.

He starts fingering my pussy at the same time, and I don’t think I can hold much longer without coming, that wave of pleasure forming itself on every cell of my body.

His body is becoming tense too, the hand he had placed on my waist now running up through my body, reaching for my breasts.

“Don´t stop…Don´t…you…fucking…stop!” I scream at the same rhythm he thrusts.

He groans and doesn´t stop, going even harder than before. As my insides tighten around his shaft, I can feel him spasming inside my ass, unleashing a torrent of cum that starts dripping down my legs.

Still with my back turned to him, I close my eyes.

He pulls out of me and my skin prickles as I hear his hard breathing. A fraction of a second later and I feel thick ropes of cum falling on my back, crisscrossing over my naked skin.

“Oh, God,” I moan, throwing myself on top of the mattress as I try to catch my breath, my body being devoured by flames of pleasure.

“This was so fucking good,” he whispers, throwing himself on top of the mattress as if he’s about to pass out. I guess I’m not the only exhausted person in here.

“Everything’s good when I’m with you,” I find myself saying, and my heart grows tight as I realize what I’ve just said.

First Scott, now Brad…what’s happening to me?

Scott

Left, right, right left—I move my feet quickly. My hands pommel the little punching bag hanging on my veranda in the same rhythm. Little beads of sweat are forming at the base of my neck.

The ding on my phone lets me know I’ve done five minutes. I stop, take a sip of water, and start again.

Another twenty of these and I’ve done my work out for the day. I might even go for a bit of a run.

It takes me some time to realize the strange sound I’ve been trying to ignore is someone knocking at my front door.

I bounce through my apartment, trying not to lose my momentum. I’m not expecting anyone, so I know I’ll be short and quick. If it’s religious recruiters, I’ll be short and rude, and if it’s charity collectors, I’ll be reasonably polite and short.

Either way, I’ll be short.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?”

I stop dancing on the spot. I’m not going to be quick after all.

“Not bad. And you?”

Brad pats me on the shoulder.

“Great.”

“Do you want to come in?”

He nods, and I lead the way.

Brad looks at my punching bag.

“Those any good?”

I nod and take another sip of water.

“They’re great for letting off steam.” And boy have I been letting off steam. I could have powered an entire steam train for a hundred miles or so over the last few days.

Brad throws little punches at it. The bag barely moves.

I walk over and give him a demo.

“Nice moves, showoff,” Brad says and sits down. “Seen Kayla lately?”

The question throws me off.

“I see her everyday…like you, at work.”

Brad laughs. “Come on, man, I know she’s hot for you. I mean, after the punch-up the other day and the fallout.”

“She said she was okay.”

Brad nods.

“She’s a tough one. But I think she’s really suffering the way Ed treats her. And that dead shit Ian.”

“Don’t get me started on those two.” I hold up my hands. “They don’t deserve to be working with someone like Kayla. She loves her job and takes it really serious.”

“I know.” Brad nods. “I think we need to help her.”

I look at Brad.

“Really? What’d you have in mind?”

Brad leans forward and stares at his hands.

“We need to find stuff on those two.”

“What sort of stuff?” I hadn’t heard anything bad about Ed or Ian, except that Ian was fucking hopeless and Ed a dickhead. It’s hardly the sort of thing you can use against someone.

“You know we need to find their weak spot. Get someone to dig up some dirt on them.” Brad seems to have given this a lot of thought.

I scratch my head.

“I guess. But what if they don’t have anything?”

Brad laughs.

“Trust me, dude, they’re bound to have some dirt on them. We need to dig. He who shall dig will find.”

We both laugh.

“You just made that up.”

Brad nods.

“Duh, but it sounds good.”

“Drink?”

Brad looks at his watch.

“Suppose. It’s after lunch.”

When I come back with two beers, Brad is standing in the living room, studying my music collection.

“Does Kayla know?” I ask and hand Brad his beer.

Brad looks over at me.

“Know what?”

“Your plan of digging up some dirt.”

Brad takes a drink before he replies,

“Nope, she wouldn’t agree to it anyway. You know what’s she’s like—too nice for her own good.”

I nod.

“She’s great, isn’t she? Gorgeous, sexy, smart, and so goddamn hot.”

“Not to mention a fantastic fuck.”

We toast Kayla with our beer bottles.

“We need to look after her.”

I agree. “We all want the same thing. Kayla wants us to stay on the show, and we want to stay on the show and want Kayla to stay as head writer.”

“And we all want Ian to piss off and for Ed to disappear off the face of the earth.”

“So how do we get rid of Ian?” I persist.

I think Brad has more of a plan than he’s telling me. If this is the case, I think he should share. After all, two minds can be better than one.

“I haven’t worked out all the details yet. But I think the first step is to find someone to get any dirt on both Ian and Ed. With any luck, there’s some kind of connection.”

I cringe at the word connection .

“You’re not suggesting a connection as in Ed and Ian, are you?” I’m not against two blokes at all. I’ve even played a gay guy once, but the thought of those two gives me the creeps.

Brad laughs.

“No way. No man or woman would want either of those jerks.”

I think to back on everything I’ve read about Ian. I draw a blank.

“I think we’ll be scratching to find something on Ian. He’s so dull I’ve never read anything about him in any of the gossip columns.”

“Me neither, but there must be something there.” Brad takes another swig out of his bottle. “It’s odd that Ian only works on series or films Ed has something to do with.”

I hadn’t picked this up. Smart man, our Brad.

“Okay, so let’s see what we can find.” I agree.

“I’ve got my assistant trying to dig up as much as she can.”

I scratch my neck.

“I know this PI. He’s good, very good. I’ll pay him a visit, and we’ll see what he can find.”

“To Kayla,” we both toast again.

“Let’s vow to make sure nothing happens to our Kayla,” I say.

Brad echoes, “Hear, hear.”

Scott

As I walk out the door, I look one last time in the mirror. Not bad. Instead of my usual jeans and tight T-shirt, I’m wearing dark loose-fitting trousers, a dark shirt, a coat, and a cap.

I pull the cap down to cover my face. No one should recognize me in this getup.

Instead of driving, I take the bus and walk the rest of the way.

Outside a double-story building with broken shutters and a crocked sign, I look around. There appears to be no one around. With any luck, no one will see me go in.

I press the bell where it says “Keyhole Antics” and wait for someone to open the door.

When it does, I almost sprint up the stairs. I make sure I touch nothing. The germs are practically staring at me from the railing and walls.

On the second floor, I turn left and spot the large green lettered sign straightaway.

Richard Burstfly, Director.

Keyhole Antics and Co.

I cringe.

If Kayla didn’t mean so much to me, I wouldn’t be here.

Carefully I walk to the door. A cockroach glares at me I nearly step on him. I would step on him if I didn’t want to get my shoes dirty. The damn thing is so huge I wonder if it’s some kind of mutant.

Once I’m past it, I half turn to look at it again. I swear I thought it talked to me.

Luckily, Richard opens the door before I can work out how to touch the handle without catching the plague or something worse. I don’t want to be walking out of here with two heads and four legs, or something weird like that.

“Me man Scott,” Richard greets me like a long-lost friend.

“Hey, Richard.” I lift my hand in a hello type of wave. There’s no way I’m touching his hand. Who knows where it has been.

“Call me Dick Scott. Everyone else does.”

I follow the PI into his office.

To describe the shit heap as an office was an exaggeration—a massive overstatement.

The couch against the back wall was so full of stains I wondered what had been going on there before deciding I probably did no really want to know. Those stains could be anything.

A single light globe hung from the ceiling; the paint was peeling off, and every space was covered in either papers or some other shit.

Dick shoves a pile of stuff off a chair and invites me to sit down. He himself heaves his mass of fat onto one of those swivel chairs behind his desk. As his weight descends on the unsuspecting chair, there’s an almighty racket.

In anticipation, I hold my breath.

Nothing happens. Judging by the noise, I thought the chair was going to collapse and Dick end up sprawled on the ground.

“Now, my man,” says Dick, and his stained sausage fingers fumble through some papers on his desk. “Is it the wife? Girlfriend? Bitch on heat straying and you want to find the bastard for castration?”

At the word castration , I feel a twinge in my penis.

“No.” I shake my head. I feel something crawl over the back of my neck, and I swiftly brush it off. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see a cockroach.

No, wait a minute, not just any cockroach, but the one from the corridor. Is he staring at me? I glare at him and lift my foot in a threatening manner.

The roach gets the message and disappears behind a bundle of papers.

“Sorry,” Dick says. “Boyfriend straying? Same thing really, isn’t it?”

I shake my head.

“Sorry?” I have missed what he said, too distracted by the fucking bug.

“You want me to find who your boyfriend is fucking?”

Now I roll my eyes.

“No.” I hold up my hand to stop him from talking. “It’s not that sort of investigation. I need you to find dirt.”

Dick leans forward on his desk. Is he drooling? He is all ears.

“What type of dirt?”

“I need you to find what you can on these two people.”

I pull out a photo of Ian and Ed. I have written their names under each of their photographs.

“That dude looks familiar.” Dick’s meaty finger points at Ian and leaves a fat stain right on his cheek.

“He’s an actor on a daytime television series.”

The PI scribbles something in his notebook.

“And this one?” Now the same fat stain can be seen on Ed’s chin.

“He’s the producer on the same show,” I explain.

Dick scratches his chin.

“They’re together?” His fingers entwine as if to get his point across a little clearer.

I shake my head.

“No, it won’t be that easy. Ian, the actor, seems to only be in stuff where Ed is the producer.”

More notes are scribbled in the notepad, emphasis on scribbled because to me it looks more like one of the many bugs in this room crawled across the page in drunken stupor than legible writing. Maybe Dick couldn’t write?

“It’ll cost.” Dick rubs his hands together, and it looks like his nose is glowing.

“I’ll pay. I’ll pay top dollar, particularly if you can deliver.”

The hands stop rubbing and come to rest on the desk.

“Keyhole Antics will deliver, Scott. It always does.”

I pull out some notes and throw them onto the desk. I don’t want to touch anything.

“Down payment, Dick. There’ll be more once you give me the dirt.”

Now I’m sure there’s spit trickling down the PI’s chin.

“Don’t you worry.” Dick stands, and I make for the door.

I see his outstretched hand and manage to avoid being patted on the back by it. Even in the dim light and from where I’m standing, I can see the black dirt under the fingernails.

I cannot get down those stairs fast enough. Once I’m outside the building, I take a deep breath. The odor was so strong in there I had barely been able to breathe.

I know the man is brilliant and he gets paid well. What the fuck does he do with his money? I know what he should do with it: invest in a new office, a cleaner, and a makeover team.

Kayla

With a sigh, I delete the last thousand words I’ve typed onto the screen and watch them disappear. Ed’s words about a car accident ruin anything I want to write.

I glance at my handwritten notes. During one night this week, I couldn’t sleep, and some good ideas came to my mind. So as not to forget, I jotted them down.

I’ve decided the brothers’ relationship needs to become the focus. They are going to stop doing their old tricks. It’s time to decide to do something bigger than they have ever done before.

My notes went on to describe how they masquerade as antique dealers to con this mega rich single woman into buying a very valuable manuscript from them.

I try again.

The car accident scene refuses to take shape. Any time I start with a car, it turns into an old antique thing—one this lady drives and the two brothers have their eye on.

I shake my head and decide there’s only one thing I can do right now.

When I come back with my strong hot coffee, I sit down and put fingers to keyboard again.

As I type the opening of the scene, I sigh.

Blast Ed into outer space, I think. Why is he trying to ruin my life? He and Ian, together they are the odd couple determined to make sure I fail.

I think about the last few days. It’s been great. Scott and I had amazing sex.

And then there had been the mind-blowing sex with Brad.

I shake my head as I stare at my screen, notes, and back at the screen again.

I slam my hand onto my desk. Fuck Ed, I think.

If there’s one thing I know, killing Brad and Scott is not the answer. And I know I don’t only hold this opinion because I’ve got feelings for both of them.

During my soul searching, I’ve realized I’m more professional than Ed. It might appear to Ed or some of the others that I am letting my feelings get the better of me, but I disagree.

And what had Ange said to me? It had been something about standing up for what I believe in.

I believe in Scott, and I believe in Brad, and more importantly, I believe in this show.

Drinking my coffee, I curse both Ian and Ed. Instead of sitting here and reveling in all the good things in my life, I’m sitting here being miserable.

This is a time when I should be enjoying falling in love with two men, and I should be drinking up my success in the screenwriting world.

Less than two years ago, no one had heard of Kayla, and now over a million viewers watch the show on which I’m head writer. Not that bad for someone who didn’t like English and whose fifth grade teacher told her to get ready for a career in hospitality.

I sigh.

I know what I must do. I must write the script the way I want to write it. And then somehow Ed needs to be…needs to be what?

It’s good neither one of them are here right now because I’m so tempted to lash out physically. I ache all over.

Next time Ian makes some smart-ass remark about my writing, I swear I won’t be held responsible if I hit him.

My gaze moves around the office. What suitable object could I use? I don’t want to hurt my hands or get blood on them.

I shake my head midthought. What’s happening to me? What level am I stooping to?

I don’t believe in violence.

And yet thoughts of smashing something heavy over Ed’s head are overwhelming.

With a sigh and another sip of my coffee, I straighten up and start typing again.

If I want to change the show, I had to get writing.

My eyes glance at the clock and the little reminder that has been bopping up and down in the top right-hand corner of my screen.

Shit.

I’m meant to be on set for filming. In my haste to get out the door, I knock my cup of coffee. Hot black liquid splatters everywhere. Some land on the key“

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter and grab some tissues to wipe up the mess. Quickly I turn the keyboard upside down. Coffee drips onto my desk.

After I’ve mopped up most of the mess, I leave my keyboard upside down to make sure it dries out completely. I doubt the budget would allow for a new one, particularly if I have to confess to being responsible for its malfunction.

At the lift, I frantically press the down button. For some reason, it seems to take forever to come.

Why is it that when you are in a hurry, technology moves extra slowly? Newton’s law, or was the guy called Murphy?

With the elevator a no-show, I race to stairs. It’s probably faster to walk.

By the time I’m on the ground floor, my hair is in my face, little beads of sweat are rolling down my cheek, and I know my makeup will is smudged.

A glance in a mirror from another set confirms my worst fears. I look like a mess.

Breathing heavily, I arrive on set.

All eyes are on me as I open the door. Filming had not started.

“You’re late,” Ian says and sneers. He then looks at Scott and Brad. “Again.”

There’s that intense desire to hit him again. I brush the hair out of my face and

quash the temptation to plant my fist right between his eyes. Deliberate and slow, I walk over to Derrick. He greets me with a smile and a wave of his left hand.

“Don’t worry, Kayla. You’re just in time,” he says. “We’re about to start.”

With a nod at everyone else, I take up my seat next to the director.

Silently, I congratulate myself for not losing my cool and keeping it together.

Kayla

I settle into my chair and busy myself with my e-reader. If past takes are anything to go by, I know I will need to be on hand to help Ian with his lines.

When my fingers find the spot, I finally look up.

Brad and Scott are on set and ready to go. Ian hovers on the edge and seems to be arguing with a young girl.

“Problem?” I turn to Derrick, who shrugs.

“Let’s roll,” he calls, and everyone takes their place.

This time the scene takes place in the garage of the brothers’ home. They’re about to head out to a party where they plan to meet their unsuspecting female victim.

I watch Brad and Scott deliver their lines near perfect. I hang on their every word. They are good—really good.

My decision to write the show my way intensifies. I don’t only owe it to these two great actors, I also owe it to the viewers.

Ian comes on set. I hold my breath. I watch and listen.

Today at least he remembers most of what he has to say. Luckily, he only has a few words to recall. It’s really Brad and Scott’s scene.

To an outsider, it might look deliberate. But it wasn’t. For this scene, the focus had to be on what the older brothers were doing. Ian just had to take a little back seat.

Whilst he remembers what to say, his delivery was still nowhere near as good as that of the other two. Ian stumbles over some of his words, and as far as delivery is concerned, well it could be done a lot better. I groan inwardly and shake my head.

The part might only be minor today, but that does not mean it is not important. And of course, it is no excuse for a poor performance.

I sigh. Ian really needs to go, off-limits or not.

During the break, I see Ian flick through his script. I watch him. His piano fingers move the pages back and forth.

A storm cloud travels across his face. And then he looks at me.

As he walks over, I know whatever he’s got to say, it’s not going to be complimentary.

“A word,” he hisses, and I can feel some of his spit land on my cheek.

Disgusting.

“Yes?”

I try and remain cool, calm, and collected.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed what you’re trying to do.” More spits come flying my way, and I try and move to the left to avoid being showered in it.

“It won’t work with me playing the innocent little girl.” Ian is overcome with rage. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see Brad move in my direction.

It is heartwarming to know he’s concerned for me; however, at the same time, I don’t want a repeat of the other day. Life’s complicated enough.

“You are trying to reduce my part. Don’t think I haven’t noticed I have far fewer lines than Brad or Scott. I’m not stupid.”

Someone, I’m not sure who, whispers that’s debatable, but I don’t laugh.

“If you think you can write me out of the show, you’re wrong. If you don’t start to write more scenes for me, you’ll be sorry. Really sorry.”

Silently, I pat myself on the back for having stayed calm.

“Finished?” I ask and rise out of my chair.

For this I don’t want to be having to look up at the enemy. And I have decided that is what Ian is, the enemy.

Part of me wants to wipe his smirk off his face with a heavy object, but there’s nothing suitable nearby.

“Well, let me tell you something, Ian.”

Someone is putting his hand on my arm. I think it might Derrick, but I shake it off.

“If it wasn’t for your bumbling, idiotic attempts at acting, this show could be fantastic. You are dragging it down. Not only do you never remember your lines, you can’t deliver them. A dead fish would have more delivery presence than you do. I have never seen an actor as bad as you.”

“How you can even call yourself an actor is beyond me,” I continue. “You are a disgrace to all other actors. I’m not sure how you got the job, but if you want to keep it, you should start to put some effort into it. Better still, why don’t you have someone teach you the basic skills of acting, speaking, and enunciation? Half the time, I can’t hear what you are saying.”

I take a deep breath in before I continue. “But maybe it’s just that you can’t get any better. Maybe it’s time you look for a new career. I hear they have a vacancy in garbage collecting right now. Surely even you with your pea-sized brain should be able to do something like that.”

I stop.

Silence.

No one says anything.

My arms are by my side, and I feel a little quiver run through them.

Ian takes a step toward me.

“You’ll be sorry,” he hisses. “You’ll be sorry you spoke to me this way, and you’ll be sorry you’re trying to write me out of the show.”

I lift my head and pull my shoulders back. “Appearance is everything,” my ballet teacher used to say. If you look confident, you will feel confident and ooze confidence.

“Not as sorry as you and your lousy acting career,” I yell at his retreating figure. “You may be pretending to be an actor, but I’m still the writer.”

I’m not sure if he can hear me. I don’t care. Someone will tell him what I said, I’m sure of it.

Without taking any notice of the other people in the room, most of whom are not quite sure where to look, I turn to Derrick.

“I’m going home,” I say and pick up my device. “There’s some major rewriting I’ll need to be doing whilst it is fresh in my mind.”

I leave the set quickly. I don’t want anyone talking to me.

Brad

I drive to Scott’s house.

I was hoping to avoid this moment, but it can’t be fucking helped; Shauna has warned me that a few more articles are circulating online, some of which seem to point to the fact that someone knows about what happened between me, Scott, and Kayla.

I have to let him know all. Maybe he has some insight—maybe he knows who is releasing information to these stupid celebrity blogs.

But what if he’s the one behind it? I wonder for a moment, but then I just dismiss that thought. Nah, no, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t hurt Kayla.

He must have heard my car pulling into his driveway as he is looking out the window when I put my car in park. I glance at him for half a second, and something in his expression immediately tells me he knows I’m not coming as a bearer of good news.

“Hey, Scott,” I say as he opens his front door.

He steps out.

“Brad.”

“Hey. I want to talk to you about something. You got a minute?”

Scott is clearly uncomfortable; his face tells a tale of stress and worry.

“I got a few minutes, and I think I already know what you want to talk about too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay…” I leave a pause for him to fill in.

“These fucking articles, man...they’re making the rounds.”

Oh shit. He does know. If he’s seen it, who else has?

How far spread is this stupid thing? “The fucking articles.” I nod. “Yeah. That.”

“Fucking bloggers. Nothing better to do.”

I chime in. “Fucking bloggers. Sitting at home on their fat asses…”

“Kayla hasn’t seen any of these articles yet?” he asks.

“As far as I know. She knows something is up, but she never reads those filthy gossip sites.”

“Thank god for that.” Scott sighs. I can see that at least that info relaxed him some.

“We are going to have to tell her, Brad,” I add. “And soon.”

“We?”

He puts his serious face on to answer. “Yes. We.”

“Shit, Scott. I was hoping to clear this all up before having to tell her. You know. Dodge the fucking bullet.”

“Clear this up? What have you done? Have you found out anything?” he says while grasping my shoulder.

“I put my assistant on it. She’s a stone-cold killer. For real. There are bodies. I don’t know where they are buried. But I know there are bodies.”

“Seriously, Brad?”

“Yeah.” I don´t like his tone. “Well…what have you done?”

“I visited a private investigator who handles these types of things,” Scott explains. “Hollywood things. Just like I told you. I had him investigating Ed and Ian, but I told him to keep an eye out for something that might reveal who’s leaking all this fucking information.”

I can’t believe we’re now working with PIs. Soon enough, we’ll be running some shady black-ops thing.

“And what did you find out? Anything?”

“Well, clearly someone knows about the three of us. I mean they know-know us. Know us personally. Most likely, it is someone who is working on the show.”

“No shit.” I have to repeat it to believe it. “Knows us. Works at the show. Fuck. That’s kinda creepy, Scott.”

“Very creepy.”

“If it is someone who is involved with the show, then they must hate one of us.”

“Or all three.”

“Seems more likely that it’s just one of us. You know, like they are holding a grudge or…” It suddenly hits me, and I can see Scott is thinking the same thing.

“They want Kayla’s job.”

“Another writer. Shit! They are the jealous types. It’s gotta be, right?”

Scott is silent for a moment. I can see his brain at work. “Maybe? I’m not sure. But it doesn’t matter anyway. Whoever they are, they are going to regret messing with us. And they are really going to regret messing with Kayla.”

“Fuck with Kayla and get the horns,” I say. “All four of them.” I then look at Scott and grin. “Four, right? Shauna normally does my math.”

“Self-deprecating humor? That’s impressive, coming from you. But four’s right, Brad.”

“Good.” I nod. “’Cause I’m pissed. And cowardly little bloggers won’t like me when I’m pissed.”

Scott nods and pats my back. “Let’s go. We got work to do.”

Kayla

Can my day get any worse? The freezer is empty, and there’s no ice cream left. The cupboards are bare, and there’s no chocolate.

I frown. How did I forget to stock up on the essential food groups? What’s a girl to do when there’s no sugar in the house?

Briefly, I toy with the idea of having a glass of wine. But I know drowning my sorrows will not solve anything.

What will solve my problems?

The answer is obvious, sort of. I know once upon a time the sensible me, the one who never stepped out of line, would say the way forward is to break it off with Scott and Brad and then bow to Ed’s demands and write one of them out of the show.

Everyone’s replaceable, I know that.

But something is changing in me. I don’t want to dump Scott and Brad. I can’t explain it, but I love them both.

I want them both.

So the other option is to work on Ed and Ian.

The niggling feeling deep inside with respect to Ed and Ian is intensifying. There’s something not quite right about the two of them. I’m sure there’s some kind of secret—a secret I need to discover.

A knock on the door is a welcome distraction.

When my eyes feast on my visitors, my bad mood vanishes for a little while.

“Come in.” I step back and hold out my cheek to receive a kiss.

Both oblige.

As soon as our skins touch, there’s an explosion of desire. Perhaps I won’t need sugar or fat today to make myself feel better.

Scott produces three large cups of coffee.

“Strong and black.” He holds out a cup for me. “Just the way you like it.”

I grin.

Our fingers touch. “You know me too well,” I purr.

Brad clears his throat.

“And something fatty and full of sugar.”

I wink at him.

“Did you bring cream as well?” As I ask the question, I lick my lips. “There’s so much one can do with cream.”

Brad chuckles.

“We forgot the cream.” He turns to Scott and gives him a playful slap on the shoulder.

Scott shrugs.

“Never mind. I’m sure next time we can try the cream.”

We laugh.

I walk to the kitchen to get plates and a knife.

Several minutes later, we are seating on the floor of my living room, backs to the couch.

Mmm, this is nice. I grin inwardly. Pity about the other problem in my life, the one called Ed and Ian.

By my third mouthful of chocolate cake, I decide I better fess up.

“I know you’re both worried about all these articles. I’ve read them.”

Scott and Brad exchange a quick glance.

Before I say more on the subject, I take a sip of coffee and stuff more cake into my face. Boy, this feels good.

“I can’t understand why the gossip columnist is going after us,” I say with my mouth full.

Neither Brad nor Scott say anything.

“All this gossip, innuendo, and hinting is making me sick. Why do journos need to write this crap?”

I take another piece of cake. I’m sure later I’ll regret it, but right now I crave more.

“People want to read that shit,” Brad answers my question.

Scott has gone into the kitchen. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but it feels right he treats the place as his own. It shows commitment on his part.

I lean my head against the back of the couch.

“Do people really want to read about what I have for breakfast, who I fuck, and when I fart?”

Brad laughs.

Scott returns with three tall glasses and a bottle of sparkling red.

“It’s low alcohol,” he announces and deposits his goodies on the coffee table. Then he’s gone again.

“I mean, I don’t really want to know what Ed gets up.”

“You’re not Ed. You’re Kayla, head writer of a successful television show. People want to read your gossip.”

“And what’s this bullshit blind gossip anyway?” I feel my insides bubble with anger.

“Well, it leaves it open to speculation.” Scott has come back into the room. This time, he’s carrying a platter of cheese and biscuits.

“Hardly,” I interject and grab some cheese. “I mean, whoever wrote yesterday’s piece may as well have used my name.” I try and recall the exact words. I’m sure the writer had referred to the hot new talented head writer from the show about the three brothers.

As if that leaves people guessing about the identity.

“Come, Kayla.” Scott has come to sit next to me. “It wasn’t that bad.” I see him glance at Brad. “And we’re taking care of it.”

I roll my eyes. It’s not that I don’t appreciate what they’re trying to do, but the enormity just hits me.

“At this rate, I’ll soon be more famous for my sex life than for my writing.”

Don’t cry , I think to myself and bite my bottom lip. “I want to be known for my writing.”

Life sucks, I decide. Sure, I know I should be grateful to have these two caring blokes by my side, but it still sucks.

I’ve worked hard to become a writer, and here I was still trying to prove myself to some dickhead who shouldn’t be doing the job he was doing.

“Kayla, listen to me.” Brad has taken a hold of my arm.

At his touch, nerve endings tingle in anticipation. Brain activity changes to a different mode.

“Scott and I are looking into it, and we will take care of it.”

“We will Kayla. We won’t let anyone ruin your career.”

I look at Scott and then at Brad.

“And we will make sure we fix it before any major damage is done. Promise,” Brad adds and kisses me on the tip of my nose. The touch of his lips is light like a feather. A yearning manifests between my legs for his touch and his lips.

They both sound so earnest and sincere.

“Thank you,” I whisper, a smile dancing on my lips.

Brad

I’m watching Scott and Kayla discuss the gossip column and all the trouble it’s causing us. It’s maybe the fifth time they go through it all. I’m starting to get sick of the whole ordeal.

I want it over. Now. I want to get back to my life, and I want to see where this thing with Kayla could go, without all this added drama.

Truthfully, I’m feeling bad: bad for Scott, bad for Kayla, and bad for myself. I’m imagining all the crazy things this blogger’s story can say if we don’t stop the madness.

Whoever it is, and whatever information she (or he) has, I know they won’t stop at the truth. Soon enough, the lies will start, and we’ll be accused of things—truly crazy things. Bat-shit crazy things.

Then it hits me.

Before I know it, I’m formulating a plan in my head that can possibly save the day.

God damn, I’m fucking brilliant.

“…that’s why Brad’s got his assistant out there trying to find out who is responsible. She’s tracking down sources, reaching out to the bloggers. Brad said she is putting on some serious heat, but I don’t—”

“I got it,” I say, interrupting Scott. “I fucking got it.”

“Got what, Brad?” Kayla asks.

“I have a plan. One that should work. I mean, it works all the time. Why not work for us, right?”

“What’s the plan?” Scott asks.

I smile, beaming and nearly laughing. “You’ve all heard of fake news, right?”

Kayla gives a nod and Scott says, “Of course.”

“Well, what if we start leaking a ton of fake gossip? Some really crazy shit and some really weird shit. Like crazy, impossible-to-believe, fucked-up shit.”

Scott’s nodding now. He smiles and adds, “We flood the blogs with all sorts of news. These articles, whatever they keep on saying, will be lost in a sea of other gossip items.”

“People wouldn’t care. There would be so much fake shit out there that they would not know what is real or fake.”

“And they would stop caring…” Kayla sees it too now. “Brilliant.”

“Exactly!” I cheer. “Think about it. When you are on Facebook and click one of those links—the ones that say ‘15 reasons to and 10 reasons not to….blah, blah, blah’—what do you do when you are on the third item and an advertisement pops up and interrupts you?”

“I ‘x’ out. I hate that!” Kayla says, grumbling.

“Me too.” Grinning ear to ear, I keep on, “I hate it, so I just quit and move to another post.”

“Brad, you might have just saved all our careers. I see this as working, I really do. And I can think of a few crazy things to put out there that will make people realize this is all just…”

“Whacky shit.”

“Yeah. Whacky shit.”

“I can write up maybe….forty or fifty items. But how do we distribute them?” Kayla asks.

“Emails. All we need are some fake Gmail accounts to go with our fake gossip stories.”

Scott pulls out his phone, waving it in the air. “I’ll start making email accounts.”

Kayla rises from her chair and bounces up and down—a show, I, for one, am glad I do not miss. “I’ll get my laptop and start writing blind times and fake stories.”

“Great,” I say, whispering to myself. “Damn, you look hot.”

As she’s dashing out of the room, she yells back, “This could be fun.”

“Hey, Kayla, write a story about me being abducted by aliens.”

“And make sure you note how he was anally probed.” Scott’s laughing before he can finish the joke. “And loved it.”

I run my fingers through my hair and then pick up my drink. After a sip, I reply. “Takes one to know one, Scott.”

“Alien?”

“Um, no,” I say, sneering. “Someone who loves being anally probed.”

“Epic comeback, Brad. You’re stepping up your game.”

“Thanks.”

I text Shauna, wanting updates. She replies that she has none. Following up, I simply dial her number and call her.

I explain to her the whole plan, and she just listens to it.

“Brad,” she finally says when I’m done. “I have a list of all the blogs I was searching and looking into. These are the blogs you need to send your fake gossip to. These are the ones people visit the most.”

“Excellent. Great work.”

“I must say I’m proud of you, Brad. This is a great plan,” Shauna says over the phone.

“Thanks. Sometimes I surprise even myself.”

“Like I say all the time, all you need, Brad, is the right inspiration. And Kayla is just that.”

Looking at Kayla, the smile on her face as she’s typing away, I cannot disagree with Shauna.

She’s right.

Scott

There’s the same fucking cockroach staring at me again. What’s wrong with this dude?

As I walk past him, I do a double take. Is this thing wearing armor? And boxing gloves?

Without getting too close, I peer at it. I know I’ve not consumed any alcohol, so I can’t be drunk. Maybe the stress is getting to me, but I swear this bug is not normal.

This time, Dick Burstfly is not there to open the door for me, but I’ve come prepared.

I retrieve a tissue from my pocket and use it to first knock and then turn the door handle.

“Come in,” calls Dick, and I wonder if he has any kind of filing system or if it simply pushes the papers from a finished case onto the floor.

I walk in and trip over something soft and squishy. My insides turn as I imagine what it might be.

“Get out,” yells Dick, and I’m shocked until I see the grey fur ball.

With a hiss and a spit, the cat leaps up and disappears through a cat flap in a side door.

I sneeze. I’m allergic to cats. Great, fucking fantastic.

I don’t have my allergy medication on me. I sneeze again. My eyes are starting to water, and I resist the urge to rub them.

“You got something?”

I need to get out of here quickly.

Dick rubs those sausage fingers together and grins.

“Take a seat, Scotty. Take a seat.”

I’d rather keep standing, but it seems the PI won’t part with any information unless I’m sitting.

With a sigh and another sneeze, I perch on the edge of the seat.

I look around and wonder if it is possible for this place to have gotten filthier and messier in such a short amount of time.

“Now.” Dick’s voice stops me midthought.

“Hope it’s good,” I mumble and keep an eye out for the mutant cockroach, who I suspect is planning a takeover of the apartment, office, and maybe even the business.

“Let’s start with this one.”

Sausage fingers fumble through a pile of papers and produce the photo of Ed.

“He’s in real strive.”

Images of Ed with multiple prostitutes fucking him in compromising positions come to mind. Yuck. Disgusting.

“Your man, Ed, basically has no money. He’s broke, or almost broke.”

I frown. What’s so bad about not having money? I feel disappointment wash over me like a bucket of ice-cold water.

“I don’t see,” I start, but Dick interrupts me.

“The man’s got a gambling problem.”

It still doesn’t seem so bad to me. I’m sure there are plenty of other people who have a gambling problem.

“That’s it?” I try not to sound too annoyed. Maybe Dick Burstfly is losing it. That’s what happened to some people, they got to the top of their game and stalled at the height of their success before crashing to the ground, landing hard.

Dick shakes his head.

“Now this fellow,” he says as he points to the picture of Ian, which by now has multiple other unidentifiable stains all over. “This one was a lot harder to crack. But crack him I did.”

I sure hope this is better than what he’s given me so far.

I’m not sure how well Brad will take the news that all we can get on Ed is a gambling habit and hardly any funds in the bank.

“You see, sometimes it’s less obvious, the connection, the dirt. Know what I mean?”

I shake my head. Fucking lunatic is talking in riddles. I sneeze again.

“Okay. So I told you Ed here has a gambling problem…”

“Got it,” I reply and resist a smart-ass remark.

“However, even though Ed is broke, he is able to maintain a pretty good lifestyle and stay afloat, unlike some other gambling tragics. Now you might wonder why that is.”

I don’t really fucking care, but I don’t say this to Dick. Instead, I wait, my patience wearing thin.

“So after some digging around, I discovered someone is funding him. Someone is giving him money.”

I wonder where this is going and glance at my watch. Ten minutes of my life wasted sitting in this dump. I take a deep breath in and exhale slowly. Stay calm.

“It wasn’t too hard to work out who was giving Ed money. Ed has a sister—a sister who seems very attached to her brother, or so at least it seems on the surface. Sibling or not, it seems strange to keep giving him money.”

“Is there a fucking point to all this, Dick?” I’m getting pissed off with this long-winded story of the PI.

“Sorry, Scotty. Of course there’s a point. Ed’s sister has a son. A son called Ian. A rather useless, unemployable son called Ian.”

Finally, the light globe turns on.

I get it.

“Papers?”

Dick hands me a surprisingly clean-looking envelope.

“All in here, my friend.”

Before he hands it over, he holds out his other hand.

“For a reward, it’s yours.”

I pull out my wallet and throw five thousand bucks onto the desk. With greedy fingers, Dick grabs the money and shoves it in his top draw.

With the evidence in hand, I leave.

“Pleasure doing business,” Dick calls to me just before I close the door.

I hope I won’t have to come back to this dump ever again.

The fucking roach is still sitting where it was when I walked in. I stop and glare at it, and I swear it glares back.

I’m tempted to take a photo and show it to Brad and Kayla. But then again, I don’t want them to think me a fool.

Outside, I mull over the information Dick gave me. Only now I realize how bad the gambling habit and being broke really is if one is a producer.

I don’t know many networks who want to employ a producer who cannot manage their own finances and are reliant on someone else’s money. When this gets out, no one will hire Ed ever again as a producer.

I can’t wait to tell Kayla and Brad what I’ve found out.

Brad

Sitting at home, I’m feeling pretty darn good. I’ve spent the afternoon with Scott and Kayla. We wrote and distributed fifty-five fake gossip items about the three of us.

I’m sure that will be enough—no matter what the gossip is about, the blogger releasing all these stories will just be washed away in the flood we created.

Fuck you, whoever you are. You and the asshole leaking information. Fuck you both.

Shauna’s coming over for dinner. Actually, she’s bringing dinner. Chinese food from my favorite restaurant.

I’m really looking forward to some egg rolls and some pork low mien tonight.

I’m flipping channels on my big screen plasma TV, looking for a something with a sci-fi flare that I can watch until she gets back.

I’m kinda hoping this one movie, the space movie with the giant bugs, is on. Every time I flip by it, I end up watching it. It gets me. Every damn time, it gets me.

Unfortunately, I’m not finding it. Lots of teen drama movies are on. Not even the good kinds with a touch of horror, just the sappy, whiny kinds.

When I was that age, I was busy playing video games and hitting on the hottest girls in class, not crying and moping about. Times sure have changed.

I can hear Shauna’s car pull in the driveway. My stomach growls. Just in time.

“Hey, Shauna. Your timing is absolutely perfect. I’m just—”

Shauna runs into the living room. I’ve never seen her so happy or excited before. You’d think she won the lottery.

“You were just getting ready to give me an all-expense paid vacation to the Caribbean. Don’t protest—I’m right.”

“Wait? Was I?” I say, smiling.

“And you are gonna rent me one of those luxury jets so me and my family can fly in style.”

“Whoa. Really?”

She places the food down on my kitchen table, and while retrieving her phone from her oversized purse, she nods. “Yeah, really.”

Sitting at the table, I’m both intrigued and hungry, so I unpack the food while asking, “What did you do to deserve all this? Did you get me extra egg rolls?”

“I did better. So much better,” she says, pointing to her phone. “I got answers.”

“Answers?” It suddenly occurs to me what she’s speaking about and why she’s so happy. “Answer-answers? You found out who?”

“I did.”

“Holy shit, Shauna.” I stand up so quickly, I spend everything on the table into motion, nearly spilling my food and drink. “Who? Spill it! The info, I mean.”

“Ian and Ed are the blind item sources. The blogs have been paying them for dirt.”

“Ian and Ed. Those motherfuckers!” I slam my open hand down on the table, shaking everything there again. “I can’t fucking believe it.” Well, fuck, it makes sense, doesn’t it?

Shauna paces back and forth as she continues, clearly trying to expel all the energy inside her. “And you’ll never guess how I found out, Brad.”

“How?”

“I found out from talking to Shelby.”

“Shelby?” I wrinkle my brow. “My Shelby? I mean my X-Shelby. My ex-girlfriend, Shelby?”

“Yes.”

“How the hell?”

Shauna stops; gathering herself a moment. “Shelby is dating a friend of mine. I never told you that?”

“Um…no.”

“Well, she is. She’s very happy. I mean, they are very happy.”

I shrug at her comment. “Great… So….”

“So, Ian and Ed told Shelby, thinking she would love hearing how they are destroying your career. But Shelby isn’t bitter because she is happy in her new relationship. Happier than she’s ever been.”

Her words both irk and excite me. Mostly irk.

Ed and Ian. Shelby happier than ever.

What the fuck. I need to call Scott. He’s gonna love this.

“So what do you think?” Shauna says. “Did I earn my vacation?”

She did. She earned it and more.

“Shauna, you earned a month’s worth of time off. Contact my assistant”—I’m teasing now, but it’s the honest truth—“have her set you up. All expenses paid for!”

“You think your assistant will be jealous?” she says, laughing.

“Nah.”

Shauna look at me funny; I’m forgetting something. Oh, right.

“And I’ll rent you a luxury jet too.”

She cheers and gives a loud “Woot!”

“One month. What will you do for a whole month?”

“Two weeks is fine, Brad. You wouldn’t be able to survive without me for more than that. A month? I’d come back and you’d be jobless, broke, starving, and—”

“Naked.”

“Exactly.”

Walking around the table, I put my hand up for a high-five. “You’re the best, Shauna.”

SLAP!

“We’re the best, Brad. We make an excellent team. Like Batman and Robin.”

I smirk, and she smirks back. I know what that means. “That makes me Robin, doesn’t it?”

“It sure does, Brad.”

Kayla

I check my reflection. Looks good. Tight black skirt, white blouse, black jacket, and matching shoes give me the serious writer look I want to portray.

Today’s a special day, and I have to look my best.

Ian and Ed wanted a war…and they’re about to get one.

“You look hot,” Scott whispers in my ear as he walks past. I quash the flicker of desire with thoughts of ice water.

A quick check of my wristwatch confirms that the head of the network should be walking through the door to our set any second. And right on cue, he comes in.

I nod in his direction and am pleased to see Derrick intercept him before Ed gets to him.

With a deep breath, I walk to the set.

Brad and Scott both smile at me in an encouraging sort of way. They know what’s about to happen. Scott gives me the thumbs up.

I catch a glimpse of Ian and Ed in an intense discussion. This is going to be so good.

A feeling of schadenfreude overcomes me already. Pricks, both of them. They deserve what’s about to happen.

“What’s going on, Kayla?” Ed stops me midstep.

Is that fear I hear in his voice?

“Baby cakes, tell me what you’re up to.”

“I told you not to call me that,” I say coolly and push past him.

Ian is now by Ed’s side.

“What did she tell you?” I hear Ian ask Ed, but I just ignore the two of them.

I push past them. When I’m on the set, I take a bundle of papers from one of the prop boys.

“First of all, let me welcome Mr. Prong, head of the network, to the set today.” I pause to applaud. The others join me. “I have invited the honorable Mr. Prong to watch our filming today.”

I pause to relish in the electric atmosphere and then add, “There’s been a rewrite.”

Ian snorts, and Ed visibly tenses.

“Here’s the amended script.”

I walk over to Ian and Ed to give them the paper.

Frantically, Ian flicks through the pages. His face visibly whitens to the color of a ghost.

“She can’t do this, Ed.” Ian’s voice is near hysterical.

“Oh, yes I can,” I reply for Ed.

Ed glares at me.

“Really, Kayla. I thought we talked about this.” He holds the typed pages toward me.

I nod. “We did, and you did not want to listen to my ideas. You dictated what should happen, and your ideas were not in the best interest of the show but in the best interest of yourself.”

I hear Ian gasp in disbelief. I chuckle inwardly. He must have read about his own death.

When I had made up my mind to kill Ian off, I had to work out how.

“You can’t kill me off.” Ian is almost hyperventilating. “Did you see this?”

He is waving the pages in front of Ed’s face.

“She has written total nonsense. It says here I’m walking along drunk on the main road when I stop to stare at oncoming lights. Since I think the lights belong to two bike riders, I do not move. And I don’t realize the oncoming lights are from a tram until it is almost too late. But before the tram can kill me, a crane lifting heavy metal poles onto a building site loses a pole, which lands on top of me.”

With an expressionless face, I look from Ed to Ian.

“What’s the problem? You’d rather be killed by the tram? There are no lines for you to remember, so it shouldn’t take too long to film this scene.”

Ed takes a step toward me.

“You know Ian is off-limits.”

I flinch, but only because Ed has an unpleasant mouth odor.

“You cannot threaten me anymore,” I say and take a step back. “I know your little secret, and in a minute, so will everyone else.”

A mixture of shock, disbelief, and horror reflects in Ed’s face. He looks at his phone.

“As much as I want to hear more of your little make-believe stories, I’ve got to take this.”

Not this time, sunshine. I reach for the stupid device and pull it out of his hand. The element of surprise is on my side.

“Not this time, Ed.”

I throw the phone in a wide arc across the room.

“Now that I have your full attention, let me tell you what I know. I know about your gambling debts. I know your sister is helping you out financially. If it weren’t for her, you’d be broke already. A gambling habit is rather expensive, isn’t it?” I pause, not because I want an answer, but more for dramatic effect.

“Now one wonders why your sister would help you out like that. What’s in it for her? She’s not doing it for fame. What is she doing it for?” I add.

I love this. It’s finally payback time. That little shit will be unlikely to get another acting job around here any time soon.

“But if one knows the family tree, it is not really hard to know why she’s doing it. She’s a mother, doing what any mother would do if her son had no talent. She’s giving you, her brother, money, and in return, you make sure Ian baby here works as an a actor at all costs.”

I glance at Ian. He seems to be fighting back the tears.

“And then, to make a little on the side, you sold information about me, Brad, and Scott to some bloggers so they could write trash about us.”

To my surprise, Ed does not try and refute what I’ve said. Instead, he goes over to where his phone landed, picks it up, and then leaves the set without another word.

Ian hovers on the same spot for a few more seconds before he, too, leaves.

Brad and Scott are still smiling. Brad is applauding.

Pride swells in me. I wish Angela could see me. Finally, I have stood up for what I believe in.

“Shouldn’t be too hard to film the killing scene, even if Ian does not come back,” announces Derrick, and I laugh.

Mr. Prong waves me over to him.

“Looks like the two of us need to meet and discuss the future of the show and you.”

Kayla

I smell the roses on my desk and buzz Lydia, the office junior, to bring a jug of water and glasses to my office.

As I wait, I admire the new painting hanging on the wall directly opposite my workspace. It arrived a few days ago.

Attached to it was a little note: From your greatest admirers .

Every time I look at it, I’m overcome with gratitude. How lucky am I to have such supportive people in my life?

The painting is of a boat tied to a pier. I love the blue of the ocean and the story the boat tells. Every time I’m stuck for ideas, I stare at the painting, and words start to flow again.

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts.

“Come in,” I call.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Brad pokes his head through the door, closely followed by Scott.

“He’s not here yet?”

I shake my head.

“But he’s not due for another five minutes or so.”

Brad checks his watch.

“Told you there’s no need to rush.” He turns to Scott.

“But if we hadn’t rushed, we’d be late.”

I look from one to the other and back again, following their friendly banter, much like following a tennis match.

A polite cough from the door stops the conversation.

“I hope I’m not interrupting something?”

I leave my desk and walk to the door to greet Mr. Prong.

“On the contrary, Mr. Prong, we were just talking about you coming to the meeting.”

We all take a seat.

“I have to say, Kayla, I have been very impressed with your work.”

Straight to the point and no pleasantries—time’s money for this man as it is for me. Since Ed’s walkout and my explosive speech—that’s what Brad calls it—I’ve been bursting with creativity. The ideas and words pour onto the page.

“She’s an excellent writer,” adds Brad as if he needs to convince the head of the network to keep me on.

Butterflies multiply in the pit of my stomach, and a feeling of warmth hugs me. Power, control, love—they are awesome feelings.

“She’s that and other things,” Mr. Prong agrees.

I clear my throat. It is time to stay cool, calm, and collected, I remind myself.

“As I was saying, you’ve impressed me and the other members on the board. We’ve noticed a significant increase in ratings since you took control of the writing and got rid of that useless actor.”

Mr. Prong pauses. I notice his fingers twirl a pen through his hands.

“Thank you.” I bow my head a little, more to break the silence than anything else. I don’t have much experience in the world of business and negotiations, so I’m a little nervous.

True to my ballet teacher’s words, I involuntarily straighten up and instantly feel taller and calmer. Dance with confidence and no one will know if you are dancing the wrong moves.

“I have had our legal department draw up some paperwork,” Mr. Prong continues and puts a thick bundle of papers in front of me.”

He reaches into his briefcase a second time to pull out more papers. It looks intimidating.

“And these are for you.” He smiles at Brad and Scott as he hands them a slightly thinner bundle of papers. On second thought, it might not be thinner at all.

I randomly flick through the pages, and the words blur in front of my eyes.

“I don’t expect you to read through all of it now,” Mr. Prong says, and I look at him. “Today I want to focus on the key points of the contract, like the length of time. You will get plenty of opportunity to read though it and ask any questions later.”

“I see you have the length of the contract blank,” Brad says, and I find it is the same on mine.

“I thought we should do two years,” Mr. Prong says and leans back in his chair.

It’s my turn to play with my pen. Instead of engaging in acrobats with it, I unscrew its back and put it back on.

“Two years in this industry isn’t very long.” I glance at Scott and Brad.

Scott is holding up five fingers. My thoughts exactly.

“What did you have in mind?” Mr. Prong is polite in his question.

“I think it should be at least five years. This show isn’t one of those fly-by-night, five-minutes ones. It is here for the long haul.”

I hold my breath as I watch Mr. Prong scribble something on his contract.

“Done. Anything else?”

That was easy. Was it too easy? Do I need to be on guard?

I clear my throat.

“There’s a couple of other matters I would like to address now before we are too far down the track and it becomes too difficult to raise again.”

It is Mr. Prong’s turn to bow his head a little.

“I want full creative rights as head writer.”

I hold up my hand as I see Mr. Prong wants to say something.

“That does not mean I won’t consult with others on the team. I am a team player, very much so. But I don’t want to have happen what happened with Ed.”

I might have put too much emphasis on the words team player , but I want to get my point across.

Silence.

Eventually, Mr. Prong scribbles something on the page.

“Agreed. Anything else?”

I take a deep breath in. “I want you to give me the position of producer as well.”

“You?” Mr. Prong doesn’t hide his surprise. There may even be a hint of disapproval in his voice. “You have no experience as a producer, from what I recall.”

This might be harder than I thought.

I nod. No point disagreeing. If I’m going to sell myself, I need to be honest.

“You are right, I have never worked as a producer. But I have all the right qualities. I have an abundance of creativity.” I pause to think what else I need to add.

“I am able to lead a team of diverse people. My planning and organizational skills are exceptional, and I can work to a budget.”

If he doesn’t agree, I don’t know what else I can say.

To my surprise, Mr. Prong nods.

“Done.” He makes to stand.

“If you can, have signed contracts back to my assistant within the week. Let her know if you need any other changes included.”

When he’s gone, Scott comes over and picks me up to twirl me around once. Brad comes over and hugs me.

“You were awesome, gorgeous,” both say at the same time.

I grin from ear to ear. Boy, I feel good.

Brad takes my right hand and Scott my left. They both look me in the eyes.

“Baby,” Scott starts. “We just want you to know we think the world of you, and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Brad nods.

“The way you kick ass, I love it.” Brad kisses me on the cheek.

I feel tears well up—tears of happiness.

“Kayla,” they both say, and I look from one to the other. “We love you.”

I put my arms around both of them.

I lean forward, and Scott finds my mouth. He pushes his tongue past my lips and finds mine.

I feel Brad’s hands travel up my top and squeeze my breasts. My lips leave Scott’s and finds Brad’s.

I know how we’ll be celebrating for the rest of the day.

Kayla

I’ve been happy before, but I don’t think anything compares to what I’m feeling right now.

It all worked out. Everything seemed stacked against me – against us – but the stars aligned and we’ve made it.

And now here we are.

Just the three of us.

“Time to celebrate, boys,” I chuckle gently, looking from one to the other, my heart drumming wildly inside my chest. More than lust, there’s passion and love running through my veins. There’s happiness, there’s joy, and all the good things everyone deserves to have in their lives.

“A celebration, huh?” Scott whistles, coming up to me and resting his hands on my waist.

Grabbing me, he pulls me into him and crushes my mouth with his, his tongue parting my lips and wrestling against mine with a kind of unbridled fury. As he kisses me, he pushes me back against the wall, pinning me there. His arms go around my waist and he grabs me by the ass, his long fingers squeezing my cheeks as our lips remain locked together.

“I want you so fucking much,” I hear Brad say, and I open my eyes to meet his gaze. He’s leaning against the wall, right next to me, and his parted lips tell me that he’s waiting for his turn.

I don’t like to keep anyone waiting.

Pulling back from Scott, I throw one arm around Brad’s neck and pull him into me, my mouth hungrily looking for his. We lock lips, and I close my eyes again as we surrender to a passionate kiss, one brimming with lust and love.

When all this started out, I never thought I’d end up falling in love. But that was silly of me. How could I not fall in love with men like these? They’re perfect in every sense of the world – their bodies, their minds, their souls. Everything in them seems to have been designed to make me happy.

“You’re mine,” Scott whispers against my neck, kissing my soft skin and pulling it between his teeth.

“And mine,” Brad breathes against my lips, one of his hands grabbing at my breasts, my nipples hardening against the inside of my bra.

“And you,” I smile, pulling back from them and looking from one to the other, “are mine.”

“I couldn’t put it any better,” Brad grins, and with that he presses his body against mine. I can already feel his erection against my inner thigh, his cock like a wild animal that can smell its prey. Except in this case the prey wants to be devoured, and that as quickly as possible.

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, and fuck me now,” I find myself saying, my forehead pressed against Brad’s as the words leave my lips.

“What? No foreplay?” Scott teases me, moving fast and sliding one hand under the hem of my dress. His fingers go straight to the wetness between my legs, and he presses the palm of his hand against my pussy. The moment he does it, a loud moan leaves my lips, the sound of voice blanketing whatever thoughts still floated inside my mind.

I open my mouth to reply to Scott, but I don’t find the words. I just moan again, and then again.

“I love the way you moan, Kayla,” Brad tells me, nibbling at my bottom. “I could hear you moan and scream all day long.”

“I agree,” Scott chuckles, and with that he grabs my thong and flicks it to the side. Without a moment’s hesitation, he slides his index finger inside me and curls it upward until it meets my G-spot.

The moment I feel the pressure in there, it’s as if my spine has turned into a column of fire. I feel my flesh burning, my eyes roll in their orbits, and I throw my head back against the wall.

“Fuck,” I hiss, my pussy tightening around his finger as I come.

Hell, this was fast.

“Someone’s ready,” I hear Brad say while Scott slides his finger out of my pussy.

My eyes are still closed, but I hear the sound of a belt coming undone, and a zipper being pushed down. Next thing I know, I feel a thick cock pressing against my inner lips, and I open my eyes just in time to see Brad grinning as he thrusts.

“OH GOD!” I moan again, throwing my arms over his shoulders as he drives all of his inches inside me. Needing more than to feel just one man, my right hands darts to Scott’s waist and I try to unbuckle his belt clumsily.

I manage to do it somehow, keeping my focus while Brad thrusts over and over again, and I push both his pants and boxers down. Scott’s cock springs free in a fraction of a second, slapping the back of my hand hard, and I just grab his shaft and start stroking him as hard as I can.

With one cock in my hand and the other inside my pussy, I finally close my eyes and throw my head back once more, simply savoring the moment. For someone that wasn’t that sure about threesomes, I think I’m doing pretty well.

“Harder, harder, harder,” I repeat over and over again, saying it so many times that the word ‘harder’ simply loses its meaning. Not that I need to worry – Brad has heard me, and he’s not the kind of guy to ignore a request like that.

Moving his hips as fast as is humanely possible, Brad drives his cock so deep into me that I have no other option but to jump up. He reacts fast, grabbing me by the ass and pulling me up and into me. I lace my legs around his waist, his cock buried so deep inside me that I see fireworks going off behind my shut eyelids. I sway my hips hard, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

“I’m going to....” I trail off as a violent tightness takes over my chest, my heart shrinking as pleasure wraps itself around it.

Sweet mercy, have I died and gone to Heaven?

Scott

As good as it is to watch Kayla’s expression as she comes, I want more than just be a spectator. Sure, I don’t mind Brad fucking her, but I want a piece myself.

We have all the time in the world, yeah, but when it comes to Kayla I don’t want to risk it. I want to enjoy every single second as if it were the last. I want to live my life one day at a time, burning each and every one of her smiles into my memory forever.

Fuck, who knew that a guy like me would end up falling in love? If anyone told me I’d be head over heels now (let’s not mention the fact that another guy’s involved), I’d just laugh like a maniac. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard , I can hear myself say to someone capable of making such a premonition.

But the truth is, these past few weeks have been the best in my entire life. Sure, my career’s looking better and better (and that’s because of The King ’s success), but my happiness has nothing to do with that – I’m just happy because of the way things have worked out between me, Scott and Kayla.

We love her, she loves us…and that’s all I need to be a happy man.

“I want you,” I whisper, reaching for Kayla’s hand and pulling her into me, my mouth desperately looking for hers. My hands work fast in a blur of movement, pushing all clothes off from her body, and I only stop when she’s completely naked in front of us, her tight little body ready for the taking.

Grinning, I place my hands on her waist and force her to turn around, pushing her against the wall. She places her hands on the wall at shoulder-height, and thrusts her ass back at me. Closing in on her, I slap her ass cheeks with the back of my hand and take my mouth to her neck, kissing her smooth skin while I breathe in the scent of her hair.

“I don’t know what you fucking did to me,” I whisper into her hair, “but you’ve made me the happiest man on Earth.”

“The happiest men on Earth,” Brad corrects me, closing the distance between him and her and kissing the other side of her neck. As he does it, I take my free hand to my cock and push it down between her thighs. I hold my breath as I feel her wetness against the tip of my cock and, without a moment’s hesitation, I simply thrust, driving all my inches deep inside her.

She gasps as my thickness travels all the way inside her, and I close my eyes as I feel her tight pussy choking my cock. I start thrusting slowly, building up the rhythm more patiently than I thought would be possible, but it doesn’t take long for me to submit to a crazy frenzy of lust.

Pistoning into her hard, I smile as I hear the sound of flesh-on-flesh, her moans blending with it to create the most perfect song I’ve ever heard. Fuck, I’ve never been the kind of guy to go all lyrical and shit, but I just can’t help it when it comes to Kayla – sex with her is like fucking magic.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I opened my eyes and saw little unicorns frolicking around while rainbows shot up from one end of the office to the other.

“I love you so fucking much,” I whisper as I fuck her, my body moving so fast that I feel sweat trickling down my back. Her body feels warm against mine, and her pussy keeps on becoming tighter and tighter around my cock. Soon enough she’ll come undone.

“I love you too…” She moans, smiling and opening her eyes. She looks back at me over her shoulder and then back to Brad. Taking one hand off the wall, she reaches for Brad and curls her fingers around his cock, stroking him while I ravage her sweet pussy.

“Don’t stop, Scott, don’t you stop!” She pleads me, and I’m more than happy to fulfill her request. Hooking my fingers on her hips, I start ramming my cock into her pussy as I can, the sound of my thighs slapping her ass echoing inside her office.

“Is this how you want it?” I whisper into her hair, my movements furious.

“Yes, yes, yes…” She breathes out between thrusts, her voice quivering as she nears ecstasy. She hisses and presses her forehead against the wall, her eyes closed as the lines in her face deepen.

“Oh, my fucking God!” She gasps, her pussy becoming so tight that I wouldn’t be surprised if it broke my cock in half. It doesn’t, of course – but I do have to hold my breath and tense up to stop myself from coming right here and now.

Slowly, I slide my cock off her pussy and take a step back, my lungs and heart working overtime. Fuck, she leaves me spent every single time. I was the kind of guy that could go all night long (and I still do, of course), but Kayla never settles for anything less than my A-game.

“I’ve had the two of you already, one at a time,” she starts, turning around on her heels and pressing her back against the wall. “Now I think it’s time for the two of you to share me, don’t you think?” She continues, the words share me falling from between her lips like silk.

My cock twitches at the thought, and I just know that the next time my cock’s inside here there’ll be no way I’ll be capable of stopping myself from coming. No, this is the final stretch, and I’m more than ready to be torn apart by pleasure.

“Sharing you seems like the best thing I’ve heard all day,” I whisper, and then take one step toward her.

Brad

“You want to be shared, you’ll be shared,” I say, looking at Kayla as my heart kicks inside my chest. I never thought I’d be in a situation like this, where I’d have to share the woman I love with another man, but here I am. And the weird thing is, I don’t give two fucks about that.

As long as we’re together, the three of us, things will be alright.

“Oh, you’ll be shared alright,” Scott adds, walking up to her and pushing her against the wall once more. Leaning in, he kisses her softly, brushing his lips against hers. I walk up to them, lean back against the wall by Kayla’s side and then grab her hand. Stealing her from Scott, I pull her into me.

“Oh,” she gasps, pressing her naked body against mine, her breasts pressed against my chest. I feel her hard nipples against my skin, and my cock twitches hard, eager to have more of her.

“Is this what you want?” I ask her, grabbing my cock with one hand and angling it down. I brush the tip of my cock up and down the length of her wet pussy, and I have to use all of my willpower to stop myself from thrusting right away.

“That’s exactly what I want,” she purrs, biting on her bottom lip.

“Then you’ll have it,” I reply, taking both my hands to her ass and pulling her up and into me. Reacting fast, she laces her legs around my waist and throws her arms over my shoulders. I bend my knees just an inch, angling my cock so that it’s pointing straight at her pussy, and she lowers herself over it.

“Oh, fuck,” she moans as my shaft slides deep inside her.

“Now, now…I want in,” Scott says, walking up behind her and running his fingers down the side of her body, his fingertips going over the curve of her ass. He runs one finger along her crack, lingering on her hole, and then he just grabs his cock and presses its tip there.

Kayla goes from biting on her bottom lip to gritting her teeth, her eyes closed as she prepares for the onslaught of pleasure that’s about to come her way.

“Do it, do it,” she asks Scott, her head still thrown back.

Scott doesn’t answer her with words. Instead, he simply starts pushing his cock inside her ass, taking his time as inch by slow inch his cock takes over her insides. The moment he’s deep inside her, both of our cocks claiming her body, Kayla sighs heavily.

“I love you, I love you so much,” she cries out, her fingernails digging deep into my shoulder blades.

“Then you’re in good company,” I chuckle softly.

“You are, because you’re everything to us. You’re the world to us, Kayla, never forget that,” Scott adds, and I can’t help but feel happiness wash over me as a bright smile takes over Kayla’s lips.

“Then fuck me like you mean it,” she manages to say. And we don’t waste a single second. We start slowly, sliding our cocks in and out of her ass at a steady tempo, but we keep on increasing the pace. I keep on holding her close to me, her legs still locked around my waist, and I feel like never letting go.

I want this, whatever you can call this relationship, for the rest of my life.

We deserve all this pleasure.

We deserve all this happiness.

We build the pace for a few minutes, but soon enough we’re fucking her as if our life depended on it. Her moans and screams of utter pleasure fill the whole office, but I’m not even sure of how loud she’s being.

My brain is too busy trying to process all the pleasure I’m feeling right now, and it has shut down all secondary functions. All I know is that Kayla’s having the time of her life – and so are we – and that’s all that matters. As long as Kayla’s happy, we’ll be happy.

“As hard…as hard as you can,” she begs us, her voice trembling as she drags her fingernails across my back. She’s exhausted and spent, but she seems to want to go out with a bang. Well, we’re happy to provide exactly what she wants.

I grit my teeth and start fucking her as relentlessly as I can, sweat pouring down my muscles as I push my body past the point of exhaustion, working it to the limit. Thank fuck I like being active and spend a lot of time in the gym – I would never be able to fuck her like this if I wasn’t in top shape.

Scott’s probably thinking the same.

His eyes are closed, his hands on her hips. Rocking his body against her hard, I can tell he’s close to his breaking point, each and every line on his face telling me that he won’t be able to resist for much longer. Well, fuck it – it’s the same for me.

“Come for me...come for me, boys,” Kayla says, clawing at my back, and that does it for me. The moment I feel her coming, her pussy lips spasming around my cock, I can’t resist it any longer. I groan loudly and surrender to the fire ravaging my insides, my cock pulsing hard as I shoot all my load inside of her tight little pussy.

“Fuck,” Scott groans at the same time, and he stops moving all together, an expression of pure bliss taking over his face as he comes inside Kayla’s ass.

We remain like that for what seems like forever, the three of us surrendering to the way ecstasy has blanketed us. Only when I feel my knees buckling under my weight do I allow Kayla to climb down from my body.

We slide our cocks off her and, moving as if the three of us are in sync, we lean back against the wall and slide down to the floor.

Sitting down on the floor of her office, all of us trying to catch our breath, I realize something I had never understood before.

Love isn’t about feelings, chocolates and roses. It isn’t about music, poetry, or any of that bullshit.

Love is about a connection, a mingling of souls. And it’s rare…very, very rare.

I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I found love now.

Kayla

“Hurry,” Brad calls from the living room. “You’ll miss it.”

I roll my eyes and stifle a yawn.

“You want coffee don’t you?” I call back and press the button on our new shiny beast, the latest and greatest coffee machine money can buy.

“Food?” Scott comes into the kitchen and turns on the oven.

I shrug. It’s a bit early to be thinking about eating and I will need at least one strong caffeine hit before I can make decisions of importance.

“Voila,” Scott produces croissants from somewhere.

“Yum.” My stomach now growls even though only a few minutes ago I could have sworn I’m not hungry.

“What are you two doing?” calls Brad from the living. “You better not be doing something I should be part of.”

We giggle.

“Don’t worry Brad,” I reply. “We’re just getting food.”

Just at that moment Brad’s head appears in the kitchen.

“Just checking,” he grins.

Several minutes later we are all huddled around our new oversized extra large television screen.

“Turn it up.” Scott complains. “I can’t hear anything.”

“You don’t need to,” Brad gives him a friendly punch in the upper arm. “It’s not like you’re going to win anything.”

“Shh,” I say to both of them as the announcer of the Emmy Awards welcomes everyone to what she says will be a night of surprises, or early morning for us since for some reason it is being held outside the USA, somewhere exotic, somewhere where the time zones don’t match ours.

We smile at each other.

Our show - it has become known as our show in the last few weeks since…well, ever since I took over, really - has several nominations.

Scott is nominated for outstanding supporting actor and Brad for outstanding lead actor. None of us are sure who determined Brad as lead and Scott as supporting actor, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is, they both are nominated.

The show itself is nominated for outstanding daytime television drama. I, together with my writers am nominated as outstanding drama series writing team. And best of all I’m personally nominated as outstanding producer of daytime television drama.

The last few months have been amazing. Life has been kind to all of us.

With my talented team of writers and supporting lead actors, the show has gone stronger. I have even been approached by a couple of other network heads to write for them.

I have been headhunted.

A month ago Scott, Brad and I decided to move in together and since we each owned small apartments it was time to upgrade.

House hunting was fun. Some of the agent’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates when they saw me walk up with two blokes. The women seemed to take it better than the men.

The lawyer who had to draw up the paper work was priceless. It took him quite a long time to work out we were a threesome.

Our house is in the hills alongside some of Hollywood’s other super stars. On our first night Scott stood on the balcony and raised a toast to everyone.

“This is where we belong.” He announced to no one in particular.

“More coffee?” I ask and look at Brad and Scott.

“I know what I want more of,” Scott’s hand reaches under my flimsy nightdress.

My pussy instantly responds, like it always does when either one of them touch me.

“Not now,” it takes all my strength to resist. “We don’t want to miss the announcements.”

Scott pouts. “What about a quickie.”

I leave him without another word.

Once I’m in the kitchen I hear yelling. I poke my head back into the living room.

“Quick,” Brad shouts. “Supporting actor is about to be announced.”

I hear just the tail end of nominations and Scott’s name.

With three quick steps I’m next to him and hold his hand. Brad is holding his fists tightly shut.

Drum roll. The announcer smiles and pulls the name out of the envelope in snail’s pace.

“Hurry up,” I urge him, bouncing up and down on my seat.

“Scott from The Kings .”

We hug and cry with each other, almost missing the announcement of lead actor.

“Shush,” I hold my hand over Scott’s mouth. We listen to the nominations and again my heart is beating so fast I feel as if I’d just run a marathon. With Scott having won an award it would not feel right if Brad didn’t.

The camera zooms in on the announcers face. She holds the paper in front of her eyes as if she needs glasses. I can see she’s reading silently. Come on, just say it, I mouth.

“Looks like our new show is going to be cleaning up tonight,” she says and I’m already squeezing Brad’s hand.

“The winner of outstanding lead actor is Brad from The Kings .”

I can’t believe it. We hug, we kiss, and we hug again. I’m crying and laughing at the same time.

When they announce our writing team as winners of outstanding writing I feel as though I can’t take much more.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, viewers,” a handsome face says from the television “we come to outstanding daytime television producer.”

Brad and Scott crowd around me. Both of them hold me as tight as possible. If they squeeze any more I won’t be able to breathe.

“It’s a tough field this year,” says the blonde assistant to the announcer smiling broadly into the camera.

“Like every other year,” agrees the announcer. The names are read out. Goosebumps crawl up my arms and back when I hear my own name. It feels surreal.

I close my eyes and put my hands over my ears. I don’t think I can listen.

“You’ve won!” shouts Brad.

“You’ve won!” shouts Scott and both of them kiss me.

I fall back on the couch. They pounce. Their hands are all over me as are their mouths.

Oh my gosh. This is amazing.

Almost at the same time both of them pull back.

I sit up.

“What?” Suddenly all feelings of happiness disappear. They look so serious. Do they have bad news? Are they leaving me?

“Kayla,” Scott takes my hand.

“Kayla,” Brad takes my other hand.

Has someone died?

“We want you to know,” Scott starts.

“That you mean the world to us.” Finishes Brad.

They are leaving me. I can tell from their faces. I brace for what comes next.

“Kayla we love you and we want to spend the rest of our lives with you. Will you marry us?’

I blink. What? Did I hear correctly?

“Will you?” they repeat and now I start to cry.

No words pass my lips and so I simply nod.

We melt into each other’s arms and Scott kisses me. Brad’s mouth is traveling downward where my wet pussy waits for him. And both my hands are busy with needy dicks.

I can’t believe it, but this is my life now.

I’ve been blessed.

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