Script Doctor (Off Screen Book 8) Page 4

  Emma dropped her hands to the bed to keep from falling on Addison. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She should have been spent. Instead, Emma found herself energized. She moved over Addison and kissed her forcefully. She needed to touch Addison. Emma’s tongue trailed down Addison’s body as if it was on the prowl. She circled each of Addison’s nipples until she felt Addison’s back arch imploring Emma to give her more.

  “What, Addy? What do you want?”

  “You.”

  “Mm… I know that you want me. What do you want right now?” Emma asked. Addison fidgeted beneath her. “I see. Is it this?” Emma gently flicked her tongue across Addison’s left nipple. Addison groaned. “No? Not that,” Emma circled the nipple again gracefully. “Maybe it’s this,” she said before claiming Addison’s nipple in her mouth, sucking with tender force.

  “Oh, God!” Addison cried out.

  “That was it,” Emma surmised. She teased Addison lightly again. “So? What will it be, Addison? Tell me. What is it you want now?”

  Addison was struggling. She wanted to cry out to Emma that she wanted Emma to fuck her. She knew Emma wanted her to talk, to express her desires. Addison hesitated. She sighed.

  “Addison,” Emma gentled her voice. “If you can tell me that you want to watch me play with myself; you can tell me now how you want me to touch you.”

  “I can’t,” Addison whispered.

  Emma smiled. She kissed Addison lovingly. “Let go, love. Let it all go. Trust me.”

  “I do.”

  “Then trust you,” Emma said. Addison closed her eyes. Emma sighed. She leaned over and reached in her night stand. “Addison,” she began. Addison looked back at Emma. “Close your eyes, love.” Addison complied. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  Emma placed her sleep-mask over Addison’s eyes. She felt Addison’s breath hitch. Addison was faltering. Emma felt it. Addison wanted to let go, to allow herself the indulgence of submission. She was still holding back. Emma knew why. She was determined to break through that barrier once and for all. “Trust me, Addison. Let go. Breathe and listen to my voice. Just forget everything else but what you feel. Just feel. You can say anything to me. You can ask me for anything. I love you,” Emma said. She kissed Addison’s lips softly and moved back to explore Addison’s nipples again.

  Emma teased Addison without word for several minutes, exactly the way she knew Addison liked to be teased. She sucked gently and then harder, nipping now and again until Addison’s moaning and writhing became constant. Emma lifted herself above Addison and dropped a breast into Addison’s mouth. “Show me, Addison. Show me what you want.”

  Addison’s body quivered. She wished that she could reach out and feel the softness of Emma’s skin. Jasmine and citrus invaded her senses—Emma. She sucked on Emma’s nipple lightly, increasing the pressure until it bordered on pain. Emma cried out in ecstasy and then swiftly pulled away.

  “Like that,” Emma moaned and repeated what Addison had done to her with each of Addison’s breasts. “Now, tell me what you want.”

  “Touch me,” Addison said.

  “Touch you? I am touching you. Tell me.”

  “Fuck! Em!” Addison gasped when Emma’s fingers trailed over her center.

  “Fuck? I like to fuck,” Emma said. “I like it when you fuck me.”

  “Please, Emma.”

  Emma slid two fingers inside Addison. “Jesus, you are so wet, Addy. So good, love,” Emma said. “So good.”

  Addison’s hips rotated against Emma’s thrusting. She opened her eyes, expecting to see Emma. The mask left her blind. She would have expected to panic, but instead she felt a rush of exhilaration. What would Emma do next? There was no way that Addison could know unless she told Emma what to do. She was blind and it made her body thrum.

  Emma watched as Addison’s head rolled from side to side. “Tell me, Addison. Tell me what you want me to do or do you like that you have no idea?” Emma challenged. “No control. You have no idea right now. I could,” Emma stopped and took a second to taste the length of Addison.

  “Jesus!” Addison cried out.

  “Not quite, love,” Emma snickered. “I could be ready to taste you or I could,” Emma began to thrust in and out of Addison again. “Or I could fuck you with my fingers.” Addison moaned. “Or I could stop and let you take care of me right now. You have no idea.” Emma smiled when Addison bit her lip hard. Addison was starting to let go. Emma lowered her lips to Addison’s center and began to tease her softly. She let her fingers enter Addison deeply, waited, and pulled back in a painfully slow motion as her tongue began to tease Addison’s clit with a persistent light flicking. Addison’s hips lifted from the bed. Emma entered Addison again and sucked on the small bud that she knew would throw Addison over the edge.

  It was too much for Addison. She was so far gone she didn’t care. “Jesus, Emma! Fuck me. Please, God! Don’t stop.”

  Emma didn’t stop. She repeated the action again and again, delighting in the stream of expletives that flew from Addison’s mouth.

  The trembling in Addison limbs quickly shifted and rocketed her into oblivion. Her body shuddered furiously like an angry storm cloud that had suddenly been filled past its capacity. She called out for Emma.

  Emma held Addison firmly until she felt the violent quaking in Addison’s body transform into faint tremors. She let her body glide against Addison’s until their lips met. Emma pulled off the sleep-mask, kissed Addison sweetly, and moved to untie her. The moment Addison was free, her arms wrapped around Emma. Emma held her and kissed Addison’s temple. “I love you so much, Addy.”

  “I love you too, Em,” Addison said.

  “Are you okay?” Emma asked. Addison turned in Emma’s arms. “What?” Emma asked.

  Addison kissed Emma lovingly. “I trust you.”

  Emma smiled. “I know, love.”

  “You never cease to surprise me,” Addison said.

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “No,” Addison said, settling into Emma’s arms and chuckled.

  “What are you thinking?” Emma said.

  “Nothing, just that I will be looking forward to your red lines on my scripts from now on.”

  Emma laughed. “I will remember you said that, you know?”

  “I know.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “You are awfully chipper this morning,” Jeff observed.

  Addison shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

  “You weren’t that happy when you left here yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” Addison apologized. “I guess I just needed a little perspective.”

  Jeff smirked. “I don’t need two guesses to figure out who helped you with that.”

  Addison smiled. “She’s good at that.”

  “Who’s good at what?” Emma walked into the office and kissed Addison on the cheek.

  “Speak of the devil,” Jeff commented.

  “Morning, Jeff,” Emma greeted her friend. She smiled at her wife and wiped a bit of lipstick off Addison’s cheek.

  “Oh, Lord. Don’t tell me,” Jeff laughed.

  “Tell you what?” Addison asked.

  “When the kids are away the parents will play,” he chuckled.

  Emma grinned. “I seem to remember a time when you begged me to tell you about that.”

  Jeff held up his hand. “Nope. No more. Too much information.”

  Addison rolled her eyes. “No one gave you any information,” she reminded him.

  “Hey, we’ve all read your love scenes,” he replied. “I thought Off Screen got steamy,” he joked. “I looked at the revisions you sent. What were you two doing on your first day of freedom, perusing erotica or something?” he joked.

  “Or something,” Emma replied in kind. She giggled when Addison blushed. “So? Where is Sandra?” Emma changed the conversation.

  “She was in wardrobe,” Jeff told Emma.

  Emma nodded. “I’m goi
ng to go find my former costar,” she told the pair. She accepted a gentle kiss from Addison. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

  “You will,” Addison agreed. She watched Emma walk away, a stupid lopsided grin lighting her features.

  “Jesus,” Jeff laughed. “So much for the sullen mothers.”

  Addison sighed. She did miss her daughters. In fact, she had woken up twice during the night with the urge to check on the pair, something she seldom had to do anymore. Vicki and Hannah being away from home was unsettling. Emma had sensed her restlessness and pulled her closer, whispering endearments and reassurance. More than the passionate lovemaking they had shared earlier the previous evening, Emma’s quiet reassurance and tender embrace had left Addison feeling rejuvenated.

  “I miss the girls,” Addison said. “It is nice to have a little time with Em,” she confessed. “Sometimes, I miss her too.”

  “I get it,” Jeff said.

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “Addy,” Jeff began. “Not that I don’t love them, but why the revisions to episode three? I thought you were happy with that script.”

  “I was. Emma made some valid points. I’ve learned to listen to her,” Addison explained.

  “Don’t get me wrong; I think it’s fantastic. Actually, I love the way Jack responds. It gives her a layer that I’m not sure we’ve seen.”

  Addison beamed. “You think?”

  “Yeah, I do. It’s some of your best writing.”

  “No,” Addison disagreed. “It isn’t.”

  “It is, Addy. It’s…”

  “Not my writing.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jeff asked.

  “I didn’t write that scene; Em did.”

  Jeff was awestruck. “Emma wrote that scene? You mean she helped you write…”

  Addison shook her head. “Nope. I was struggling to rewrite it. I asked her to give it a try.”

  “Holy shit.”

  Addison smiled. She had the same reaction when she had read Emma’s work. Emma always left thoughtful remarks, and she often had ad-libbed as an actor. It was one of the reasons that Genevieve had become such a rich, multidimensional character. Emma never half-assed anything. When she became involved in something, she committed to it fully. That extended to every area of her life.

  “I know,” Addison agreed. “She’s as good a writer as she is an actor.”

  “What did you say?” Jeff asked.

  “I haven’t said much yet. She’ll shrug it off; you know her.”

  “Probably. Good thing for you,” he said.

  “Why is that?”

  “She might put you out of a job,” Jeff deadpanned.

  Addison smiled proudly. Truer words.

  ***

  Emma walked into a small room looking for Sandra. She let her fingers run over the clothing that hung on a long rack just inside the door and sighed. Some days Emma did miss her old life. She missed the buzz on set. She missed taking in a deep breath as Emma and exhaling as someone completely different. She missed the camaraderie she had enjoyed while Off Screen was running. She didn’t miss the constant attention. She was relieved to have time with her children. The last season of the show had taken an enormous toll on Emma; more than she had ever shared with anyone. A couple of times, she had worried that she might be borderline depressed. Emma hated being pulled in a hundred directions, much of the time away from her daughter. She had made the decision when the plug was pulled on the show that her focus would shift. There would always be a chance to seek new roles on the screen or a stage. The most important roles she played in life were mother and wife. Those roles were permanent and pivotal in the lives of the people she loved the most. Work would take a backseat for a few heartbeats.

  “Hey!” Sandra’s spirits lifted the moment she saw Emma. “Missed me after all, huh?”

  Emma laughed. “I do miss you.”

  “I’m going to miss you too,” Sandra said.

  “This is your time,” Emma replied honestly. “This is your baby,” she said. “You’ll forget all about me by the time you finish filming this first episode.”

  Sandra frowned. There was no way she would ever forget Emma or what working with Emma had meant to her. Sandra had arrived on the set of Off Screen naïve and somewhat in awe of her costars. Emma had been the one to quell the young actress’s anxieties. She had guided Sandra. In fact, Emma had been the greatest guide on the show in Sandra’s estimation. Emma wasn’t an average actress. She was immensely talented. She also had a grasp of the process of making a television show. Emma respected the process. She treated everyone from the gaffer to the caterer as a valuable member of the team. One thing that Sandra had learned, the “star” of a show set the tone on set more than many producers or directors cared to admit. Sandra had learned from Emma. Now, it was her turn to carry that mantle. A part of her wished she were still one pace behind Emma.

  “You okay?” Emma asked as silence hovered.

  “Yeah. I am. I just wish you were going to be here, I guess.”

  Emma smiled. “I am here.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I suppose I do. You’ve got this,” Emma said. “Addy has worked with some great casting people. You are going to have lots of people to draw on.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Sandra said.

  “I know,” Emma winked. “Nervous about the love scenes?” she guessed.

  Sandra sighed. She was. Love scenes were not her favorite scenes to play. They required vulnerability that could be uncomfortable. She had always relied on Emma to put her at ease, and she had never played a love scene with anyone else.

  “A little.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “I think you have more confidence in me with all of this than I do,” Sandra said.

  “I have every confidence in you,” Emma said.

  Sandra nodded. Emma was like a big sister to Sandra. She adored and admired her friend. “How goes the peace and quiet?” Sandra asked Emma.

  Emma chuckled. “It’s quiet. Peaceful?” She laughed. “Addy was awake every hour on the hour last night,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve seen her do that since the first week the spout was home.”

  “Well, she will be busy this week. That should help take her mind off things. I imagine there will be a lot of late nights.”

  Emma smirked. There will be if I have anything to say about it.

  ***

  “Gwammy!” Vicki called out to Sherry.

  Sherry suppressed a laugh. Vicki was possibly the most energetic child she had ever encountered, and Sherry thought perhaps the brightest as well. The toddler was as opinionated as she was articulate. Sherry enjoyed watching her granddaughters. She didn’t get to spend as much time with the pair as she would have liked. Chats on the computer, FaceTime, videos—all of that was wonderful, but it hardly compared to spending physical time with the girls. She laughed when she entered the living room to find Vicki preaching to her little sister. Hannah watched Vicki curiously, seeming to consider everything the four-year-old said as seriously as any eleven-month-old baby could. Sherry mused that Emma and Addy were going to have their hands full soon. If Hannah’s expressions were any indication, she was going to be every bit as bright, curious, mischievous, and expressive as her older sister.

  “What are you two up to in here?” Sherry asked.

  “I’s teaching Hannah ‘bout bwocks.”

  “Oh, I see,” Sherry commented.

  “Hannah looks like she is doing pretty well.”

  “But she puts da same colwors on top. You s’posed to make dem dif’rent.”

  Sherry pretended to consider Vicki’s assessment carefully. “Well,” she said gently. “I think there are all kinds of ways to build,” she told her granddaughter. She smiled at Hannah who was gathering all the chunky, blue blocks into a pile in front of her. “Maybe Hannah just likes blue,” she offered.

  Vicki huffed a bit. “’Kay. You can do
da bwu,” Vicki told her sister. Hannah looked up at Vicki and giggled.

  Sherry shook her head. Oh, boy.

  “Gwammy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can we call Mommy now?” Vicki asked.

  Sherry smiled. Less than twenty-four hours and Vicki was already missing her parents. Typical. “We can try, sweetheart.”

  “Now?” Vicki asked hopefully.

  “Sure. Let me go get the phone, okay?”

  Vicki smiled and turned back to her baby sister. “Gwammy’s gonna get Mommy,” she said. “So you don’t be sad.”

  ***

  Emma sat quietly observing the scurrying around the studio. She had always enjoyed watching the chaos at the beginning of a new project as it slowly transformed into a well-oiled machine—that is if you were lucky enough to have the right team in place. She chuckled softly watching Addison in the distance as Addison addressed the director. This was Addison’s baby as much as Off Screen had ever been. She jumped when her phone buzzed in her pocket and smiled when she saw the name of the caller on the screen.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Mommy!” Vicki’s voice bellowed through the speaker making Emma jump again.

  “Hi, Sprout. How is your day going?” Emma asked, happy to hear her daughter’s voice.

  “Good. Gwammy made pancakes.”

  “She did? That sounds yummy,” Emma smiled. “Are you having fun?”

  “Yep. Hannah miffes you.”

  Emma closed her eyes and absorbed Vicki’s words. There was nothing in the world that Emma could find to compare to being a mom—to being Mom to her daughters. Vicki’s words simultaneously made Emma’s heart soar and sink. Hannah was likely content. On some level, Emma was certain that the baby would miss her and Addison. It was Vicki who was feeling the early pangs of separation anxiety; something the toddler would never want to let on to the adults in her life.

  “She does, huh?”