I collapsed, rolled off Justin, then huffed and puffed - Justin had blown my house down! It had been almost two weeks, almost every night and I never got tired of this boy. And what was so great, he never got tired either. I mean, he could go all night in every which a way.
Whew! When God made forty-four-year-old women, he went back into the workshop and created twenty-three-year-old men just for us.
Justin pushed himself up, then looked down at me. "What? You're getting up? I didn't think we were finished."
I laughed. "You're incorrigible."
"I'm just sayin' we can keep going since you finally let me stay the night."
I rolled onto my side so that I could face him, and I marveled at how I still loved just gazing at his face. But then, why would I get tired? No one ever tired of fine art.
"So, you've had enough?" he asked as if his job was to please me.
"I have to get over to the Warner Theatre. And you, sir, need to sneak out of here and get to your room."
"Oh, all right," he said, sounding like a kid about to do something he didn't want to do. When he stood up, I gave him a little slap on his butt and not a piece of skin jiggled. It was like soft stone.
He moved about the bed as if he were looking for something, but I knew his game; he was putting himself on display and I leaned back to enjoy the show that this Trey Songz-looking buck was giving to me. I couldn't believe that I had let Justin stay all night, especially since it was more dangerous here than before. In Atlanta, I had the cast and crew in a different hotel. But here in DC, I'd received such a good deal at the Grand Hyatt that I was able to put everyone in the same place - plus save on transportation since we were so close to the theatre.
Still, I could have stayed in a different hotel, but there was something about taking this risk. Not that I ever wanted anyone to find out about me and Justin. I wasn't about to risk not only my career, but my marriage. It was the thought, though, that we could be discovered. It made this affair more illicit, more exciting.
And anyway, I deserved this celebration. Three great shows in Atlanta. Every seat filled, every ticket sold. The sellouts continued - no one could get a ticket for any of these shows here in DC and it was the same for Charlotte and Dallas and Houston ...the list went on.
I sighed when Justin finally stepped into his jeans - without putting on his underwear.
When he saw me grinning, he said, "I'm going to take a shower in my room."
"What are you gonna tell Ted?" I asked, about the sound engineer who was his roommate on the road.
He shrugged. "I'll tell him I was bangin'...."
I frowned.
"Some girl I met at the bar," he finished with a laugh.
I didn't find that funny. I wasn't some girl, we hadn't met at the bar, and he wasn't banging me. But I didn't say anything. Maybe that was just the way young guys talked these days.
"What are you staring at?" he asked.
I blinked from my trance. "Just you."
He held his shirt in his hand as he grinned. "Are you sure you want me to leave?" Then, he tossed his shirt over his shoulder, and took slow steps back to the bed.
Even though my center stirred once again, I shook my head. "I have to get to work."
"Are you sure about that?" With a sudden sweep of his hand, he ripped the comforter away from me, tossing it on the floor. The way he stared at my nakedness, made me shiver and it wasn't from the cool air that brushed my skin.
He didn't say a word, as he leaned over, kissed me and took me to the stars. But then, when he scooted down on the bed and shifted me so that he was between my legs, I knew it would only be a couple of minutes before I shot straight to heaven. And I was right.
I wanted to keep my eyes open to watch his magic. But the things...he...did...to...me. I barely stayed conscious.
He pleased me with his tongue over and over and over. And I shuddered and shuddered and shuddered.
"I...can't...take...any...more," I said, snatching his head up.
I panted as he licked his lips. "Sorry, I got caught up 'cause you...."
I pulled him closer so that I could kiss him. When he pulled back, he asked, "So, did I get the part?"
"What part?" I whispered.
"The part." He stood up straight and took a couple of steps away from me. "The part you had me read with Camille yesterday?"
Oh...yeah...that...part.
I'd done what I said I was going to do. On the flight from Atlanta to DC on Friday, I'd used those two hours to write in a small part, just a few lines for Justin as Camille's brother. And I'd given him a test yesterday, after I told Camille that I'd wanted to add more eye candy to the show.
"Oh, that's a great idea!" she told me. "And thank you for casting him with me! I've been watching pretty boy. Maybe if we have to do some scenes together every night...."
That had almost made me rewrite his part. Put him in the play as a cab driver or something. But then, when he got on stage, I realized that I wasn't gonna have to worry about him spending too much time with Camille because he bombed...and I didn't mean that in any good way. I couldn't believe Justin was the same kid who'd read for me back in Atlanta. On the stage, his voice was loud, his tone was stiff, morticians displayed more emotion.
Even Camille whispered to me afterward, "Uh...dude needs to stick to just looking fine."
I had planned to tell him this right after he came off stage, but he'd met me in the office in the back and started doing stuff to me. Then when I had my second chance to tell him last night, he'd started sucking my toes. I forgot about his stage skills and focused on his bed skills.
"Did you hear me?" he asked. "I could be ready to go tonight, tomorrow at the latest."
"Well, um, yeah, about that." I wasn't sure how I should tell him that there was no way he was going to be in one of my sold-out performances. Everything was going so right - we were all over the media, we were the talk on the blogs, I was even getting calls from promoters who hadn't taken my calls before and now wanted me to bring the show to their city. All of this was happening after just three shows in Atlanta. I wasn't about to take the chance of anything messing up the momentum I had.
I looked up at Justin.
"So, when am I going to hit the stage?" He raised his voice a little and my eyebrows shot up. "I know I hit it yesterday."
I wasn't sure if he was talking about his audition or me. But whatever, he needed to back it up. Just because he could put it down on me - numerous times - didn't mean he could forget who had the power here.
"Look, Justin," I said, grabbing my bathrobe from the back of the chair. I slipped my arms into the sleeves, but I didn't bother to tie the belt. I let it hang open, thinking that I might have to use my body as a part of my negotiation. I might have been forty-four, but I'd had so much sucked and tucked that I looked better than I did when I was a teenager.
Putting my hands on my hips (which actually raised my boobs a bit), I continued, "I was trying to be nice because I didn't want to hurt your feelings. Now, you can certainly sing, but that acting thing...." I shook my head.
His mouth opened. "Excuse me?"
"I'm not trying to be cold," I said, truly meaning that. I wasn't trying to hurt his feelings for a couple of reasons, the most important being that I wanted Justin to stick around 'cause he surely had a future as a maintenance man - and I wasn't talking about anybody who swept the floor. Shoot, I'd put him on the payroll just so he could maintain me. But acting? Uh...that would be a no!
Justin said, "But you said...the other night in Atlanta. In your room, you said that I could act."
"I know." I pouted a little. "I thought you could, but now I realize it was just that I was blinded by all of this." I motioned first toward his chest, and then, I let my eyes go down, down, down and rest right at his part that had made me so happy. "But the reality is, this is not for you, bruh."
He shook his head. "And so what was your plan? To just keep me in your bed?"
Yup, that was the plan, but this didn't feel like the right time to tell him.
"Were you ever gonna let me know?"
I nodded.
"When? You didn't say anything after the audition yesterday."
"I know."
"And what about last night?"
I remembered last night and sighed.
"You didn't say anything then," he said.
"How was I supposed to talk when you were doing that...thing that you do?"
He glared at me and then his bitter chuckle filled my bedroom. He was pissed, and I understood that. But it wasn't like I hadn't given him a chance.
"I'm really sorry," I told him.
"I wanted to be an actor," he said, sounding like the kid who didn't get that toy that he wanted for Christmas. "I know I'm as good as any of those dudes you have on the stage."
I had to focus on something, something that made me sad. Or else I was gonna laugh in this boy's face. Keeping it soft and staying serious, I said, "No, you're not. Justin, you're good for what you're good for." He pouted, but I took a step closer to him. "And truth be told, I don't want what you're good for to end." I took another seductive step toward him and his eyes moved from mine, moved down to my nakedness.
I reached to finger his chest, but he grabbed my hand, stopping me before I could touch him. "So what're you saying? You want me to keep screwing you?"
"Do you want to keep a job?" I felt a little flinch in my heart. This was borderline sexual harassment, but I pushed that bit of guilt away. Men had been doing it for years and I wasn't really threatening him. If he wanted to go, I wasn't going to make him stay.
He raised an eyebrow. "So, now, in addition to handling merchandising, my job is to service you?"
"You don't have to do anything." I shrugged. "You can go back to Salt Lick, Alabama...."
"I'm from Birmingham."
"Wherever. You can go home, go back to work packing groceries at the Piggly Wiggly...."
He glared as if I'd just insulted him. "I've never worked there."
"Or you can keep doing the fabulous jobs you do, which by the way, you do both so well that you deserve a raise. I'm thinking about maybe doubling," I paused and with my eyes drank in more of him, "no, not doubling, tripling your salary."
"Triple?" At first, his eyes widened, but then the room filled with that bitter chuckle again. "Just wow. Now I'm a male prostitute?"
I was getting tired of this negotiation. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I said, "I really have to get going." My eyes turned back to him. "You can make this sound whatever way you want; I've made you an offer. And now, it's up to you."
He let a couple of seconds go by, then shrugged. He grabbed his shirt from the floor where he'd tossed it. "It is what it is." He didn't bother to button his shirt; he just grabbed his wallet from the table, then moved toward the front of my suite. "Guess I need to get back to my other job."
I stopped him before he reached the door. "So, will I see you back here tonight?"
His glare gave me my answer, then, he opened the door and I sighed as I watched the love of my body's life walk away from me. I almost wanted to cry.
But then, before the door closed, he turned back and said, "See you tonight. Same time, this is the place."
My joy came back!
But then, he said, "And Gwen, I know I'm still young, but I do know that you can't keep screwing people without sooner or later, somebody screwing you back." He shut my door, pulling it hard so that it would slam a little.
His words lingered in the air, and made goosebumps rise on my skin. But then I shook my head and that feeling of foreboding off of me. What could he do? He was twenty-three and I was Gwen Tanner.
But maybe it was time for me to make one of those smart head-chick-in-charge decisions. Maybe it was time for me to end this thing with Justin. Especially since Eli would be here in just six days for my birthday, though that was still conjecture since my husband's promises were filled with as many holes as a homeless man’s shoes.
Still, if Eli did meet me in Charlotte, that would show some kind of effort on his part, right? And then, I could make an effort, too. Now that I'd had this itch scratched, maybe I could find a way to make my marriage work.
As I turned toward the bathroom that was my thought. I was going to end this with Justin - right after tonight.