Backstage: A Fake Marriage Romance, page 15
What the fuck are you even doing here, Brad? An understudy that spends the entire length of the performance run following Marshall around like a puppy dog.
“Yeah”, Tracy says, adding fuel to the fire, a mere glimpse of gossip enough to set her off like a greyhound chasing after a rabbit. “You can tell us.”
The circle eases closer as the crowd wait for our response. I can’t say I didn’t expect it, but it kind of makes me mad that it’s clear what they want us both to say is yes, because it makes for a better story. The last thing we want is for them to believe that’s true, however, because it’s the biggest thing that could damage our inheritance claim.
“It’s a good story, but it’s just not true”, I say. “We haven’t actually decided whether we’re going to stay here in the States after we get married anyway. Besides which, I’ve got plenty of other options to extend my visa before I have to rely on the updated version of the film Green Card.”
“It was the other way round in Green Card”, Marshall points out, “and anyway, Ryan’s way sexier than Gerard Depardieu. And, more to the point, you guys are fucking for real. Everywhere, including the dressing room couch it seems.”
“Fucking hell, Tracy”, I say, my eyes going straight to her.
“Oh come on”, Marshall says, waving his arms about in the effeminate way that he can’t avoid, “it’s not like you’re the first couple I’ve had in one of my plays fooling around on that sofa. That fabric has taken some battering I can tell you.”
“Eeuww”, Tracy says, pretending to be offended. “I did not need to know that.”
“Not a marriage of convenience then?” Brad says, seemingly with a point to prove.
“It’s not a marriage of convenience if we love each other is it?” Ryan says.
Brad shrugs. “I guess we’re not the people you have to prove that to.”
What the fuck is his problem? “You don’t have to prove anything to me”, Tracy says, finally doing something that helps us. “I’ve seen it first hand.”
“Anyway”, Ryan says, trying to move the subject on. “It’s great to have everyone’s support. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you all sooner, but we just didn’t want to mess up the dynamic of the play. We’ve been having an amazing time with Redemption and we didn’t want to do anything to fuck up the balance. The whole thing about getting married, that’s something that just came up recently, and Sophia’s visa situation didn’t even come into it. To be honest, I had no idea she wasn’t here permanently anyway.”
Ryan pauses just for the briefest moment, but it’s enough time for Brad to get another dig in. “You sure she’s not just playing you?” he says with a shit eating grin I’d absolutely love to slap off his face.
Ryan plays it well though. He smiles back, changes up what he was planning to say in the first place and fires back with: “Brad, believe me, if someone made love to you the way Sophia’s just made love to me you’d know that the last thing she has on her mind is a visa.”
That’s enough for Brad’s cheeks to go the same color as his salmon pink shirt, and for everyone else to stare at us with their mouth’s wide open. I couldn’t have wished for a better response.
“More drinks”, Marshall says cheerily, calling an end to the inquisition. “It’s not everyday that sofa gets re-christened, after all.”
We move from the bar when a table comes available with enough space on it we can fit everyone around. Ryan squeezes in between Paul and me, with Marshall on my other side.
I should probably wait, but it’s noisy enough in here that I feel like I can get away with it. I twist myself towards Ryan and press my lips to his ear. “That was perfect”, I say, and squeeze his thigh.
Ryan responds by pushing back my hair and moving his mouth to my ear. “That wasn’t a lie”, he says, my wrist gathered in his closed hand. “And I can’t tell you how much I—.”
“Guys”, Tracy says, feigning anger, “didn’t anyone ever tell you that whispering was rude? We’re supposed to be here as a group.”
“Sorry, Tracy”, Ryan says reluctantly, shifting himself back into a more appropriate position, that bulge in his trousers a little bigger than I think it was before. “You were saying.”
“I wasn’t saying anything”, Tracy says. “But that’s not the point.”
“Oh, right”, Ryan says, reaching for his drink with a confused look on his face. “Want to do that again”, he says quietly to me, while Tracy’s attention is distracted by someone squeezing past the table behind her.
“I think I might call it a night after this”, I say, keen to find an excuse to get out of here and get Ryan back home and into my bed. Plus, if we are going to get married tomorrow, Ryan’s going to need to find his suit, while I want to make sure I’ve got the right outfit on. I’m not bothered about a white wedding dress, but I do want to look my best.
“Nooo”, Marshall complains, “You can’t leave us yet, we’ve barely had time to breakdown the evening’s performance, or the play. Plus you’ve only had one drink, that’s nowhere near enough for your health.”
“I might call it a night as well”, Ryan says, his hand searching for mine underneath the table.
“I’ve got to go through all of the rest of the boxes I’ve left at my parents house before they chuck away my original star wars toys.”
By the way he squeezes my hand, I know what he really means by that is spend all morning in bed with me, getting up only when it’s entirely necessary to drink coffee, shower, and eat, and then after that, head down to the city clerk’s office with Alex in tow to sign a piece of paper that says we’re getting married. If he doesn’t mean that, of course, I’ll make sure he changes his mind later on.
“Me too”, Paul adds. “Not the boxes and the star wars toys, my parents got rid of those a long time ago. The calling it a night. I’m absolutely shattered.”
Marshall twists so quickly towards him he nearly knocks a table full of glasses over. “You know when I was your age”, he says. “I was up on stage all night, double performances it was of course back then, and then we’d be in the Rum and Ruin on a lock in until four o’clock in the morning. We’d get breakfast at Jack’s cafe and get back into the theatre for nine. You kids don’t know how to do it these days.”
“I do”, Brad says, holding up his empty glass.
“Whether that’s true or not”, Paul says, “I’m going to have to call it there. I’ll miss the subway if I don’t.”
“Get a taxi”, Marshall orders.
“I could do that if you increased my wages a little bit”, Paul says, already buttoning up his coat.
“Not enough money in the budget for that, I’m afraid”, Marshall says. “As much as I’d love to.”
Paul leaving gives us both a perfect excuse to get going too. I stand up and essentially make Ryan join me. It’s a little awkward standing up in the middle of everyone who is still sat down around us, but if we don’t go now, we might not get an easier opportunity.
“You two aren’t going as well?” Marshall says, with a sigh of disappointment.
“Sorry, Marshall”, I say, not sorry at all. “I’m pretty tired after tonight.”
“Is that after the play or after the sofa?” Marshall jokes.
I ignore it and move towards Tracy, who is blocking our escape route and making no effort to move. Eventually, when I start moving the table myself, she finally gets it and twists herself around so we can both slide out.
We stand for a while on the outside of the circle, all eyes upon us.
“I guess we’ll see you all tomorrow”, I say. “Don’t drink too much, remember we’ve got five performances left.”
Ryan squeezes my hand, sending a buzz of energy through my body. I can hardly believe that not only am I taking him home, not only is that okay with both of us and everyone else here, there is every chance that we are going to repeat more than just once what we’ve already done tonight to a level of perfection I didn’t even realize could exist. I may be his fake girlfriend, but these feelings are definitely for real, and if Ryan’s as horny as I am, it’s going to take a superhuman level of resistance to stop ourselves from tearing each other’s clothes off even before we make it into the apartment.
“Don’t fuck each other on the way home”, Marshall says, “or do, I don’t care. Just make sure you’re not late tomorrow.”
“Goodnight everyone”, Ryan says, and together, before anyone has a chance to call us back, we quickly head for the door.
Chapter Nineteen
Sophia
Ryan pulls me into him to brace me against the cold. Spring isn’t quite here just yet and although the days have been warming up, the nights are still cold enough to make our teeth chatter. We’re heading in the direction of the subway, but there is an urgency about what I want right now that is going to require a much faster form of transport. As soon as I see a cab go past, my hand goes up in the air to hail it. We sit in the back, hands linked across the spare seat between us, mostly silent for the short journey back to the apartment.
We turn the climb up to the top floor spontaneously into a race, jumping steps two at a time to be the first one there, perhaps fearful that if we leave it too long, one of us might change our minds.
I’m out of breath, struggling to find the key in my bag, while Ryan leans casually against the wall, his chest rising and falling, his cheeks slightly red from the effort.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, not for what he’s just done but for what I hope we are about to. The look in Ryan’s eyes tells me he knows exactly what I’m referring to.
“I’ve never been better”, he says.
I let us in and shut the door on the world behind us, the silence of the apartment a welcome indication that Alice isn’t home.
“Do you want?—” I’m half way through saying while Ryan responds by lifting me up into the air and hugging me into him.
“I want you”, he says, the words wrapped around urgent kisses, as he maneuvers me towards our bedroom.
This had the potential to be awkward. Our first night together sharing a bed for real, the night before our wedding day. If Ryan and I hadn’t jumped the gun and done what we couldn’t resist doing on the sofa in the dressing room the sexual tension in here could have been so unbearable I might have exploded. As it is, we’re doing exactly what I had secretly hoped we might.
Ryan carries me to the bedroom and then drops me on the bed like a trophy. I take a moment to observe him and giggle slightly at how quickly things can change between two people. One moment we’re little other than colleagues at work about to enter into a business style arrangement with each other, and right now we are nothing short of lovers, about to tear each other’s clothes off.
“You look gorgeous”, Ryan says, as he pulls off his T-shirt and advances towards me. I put my feet up against his chest not because I want to stop him, but so I can appreciate him just that little bit longer before we begin.
“What?” Ryan asks, his hands smoothing the skin of my lower leg.
I shake my head slightly. “Nothing”, I say. “I just can’t believe this is happening for real.”
Ryan moves his hand higher up my leg, his fingers following the curve of the muscle up towards my inner thigh.
“I should have said something sooner”, he says, “I wanted to. I just didn’t know how.”
Those fingers edge my panties and curve away, riding top side of my upper leg and smoothing the peak of my hip bone. It makes me moan and I do nothing to hide it.
“Me too”, I say, the words sticking on my lips. “I didn’t think—.” I cut my sentence short because Ryan is looking at me in the way that makes me realize that whatever I felt in the past has absolutely no relevance to what we’re doing now, or what we’re going to do together in the future.
“I’m so glad we did what we did at the theatre”, Ryan says, closing the distance between our bodies. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a really long time.”
I let my legs slide either side of his torso, so Ryan can fold himself against me and press me into the bed.
“I didn’t think you’d be interested in me”, I confess, “not like that.”
I can feel the heat coming off his skin like fire burning just below the surface, and it makes me eager to undress too, so I can press my nakedness against his, and feel that warmth radiate through my body.
“Are you kidding?” Ryan says. “I was spellbound by you.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Off stage, when we were together, all of that was acting. If I’d shown you the real me, you’d have found me out in a second. I was terrified you’d see through it and find out how I really felt about you.”
Ryan leans in to kiss along my neck towards the sensitivity of my collar bone. I let him unbutton my top to feed kisses along the upper part of my chest, while I run my fingers through his hair and try not to lose myself all at once in his perfection.
“Why?” I moan into his ear, chasing the words with hot kisses.
“Why?” Ryan repeats.
I nod, a little too turned on to be able to find the word again.
“Because that way, I couldn’t ever lose you”, he says, pausing a while to take me in. I see the truth hang there in his turquoise eyes like a childhood fear before a smile wraps his lips into a protective curve and it’s gone again.
“That’s dumb”, I say. “And very cute.”
“So, what’s your excuse?” Ryan says, unbuttoning my top even further.
I sit up for a moment so he can pull it over my head. “I’m very demanding”, I say. “I need a lot of attention.”
“I can see that”, Ryan says, his fingers dancing along the edge of my bra.
“And long distance relationships don’t work”, I say.
Ryan teases his fingers inside my bra, searching for my nipple. When he finds it, it springs erect almost instantly and I feel a shudder of pleasure rush down my spine that lifts me momentarily off the bed.
“You like that?” Ryan asks, popping the clasp at the front of my bra to fully expose me.
I nod. “I’m so sensitive right now”, I confess.
Ryan takes his time with me, clearly keen not to rush. I sink back into the bed as he dances the tips of his fingers gracefully around my areola, before leaning in to tease my swollen sensitivity with his tongue. He entertains himself like that for a while, moving from one nipple to the other, exciting them both with gently flicks, tantalising bites and stomach tightening sucks that leave me unable to do anything else but breath heavily and moan his name.
When he feels like he’s indulged himself enough, he gradually moves away from my breasts and begins to kiss down towards my belly. My hands go there quickly, my skin fizzing, tickled by the movement of his lips.
“Do you think I’m fat?” I ask him, suddenly concerned.
Ryan lifts his tongue away from my belly button. “Are you kidding me? You are absolutely gorgeous.”
He briefly smooths the swollen skin between my belly button and the waistband of my skirt, as though demonstrating to me that there is absolutely nothing wrong with the way I look, before turning his attention to the removal of the rest of my clothes.
His hand is under my skirt, and his fingers are all but wrapped around the fabric of my panties and ready to slide them down before I stop him.
“You first”, I demand, my hand pressed against the flatness of his abdomen. “You tease me every day at the theatre with that incredible bulge and I might have felt it inside me earlier tonight, but I think it’s fair that before we get married I know exactly what I’m working with. You can do anything you like to me afterward, and I’m likely to demand that you do, but right now, I have a request of my own.”
Ryan reluctantly removes his hands from my panties and straightens up. “Go on”, he says.
“Strip”, I say suggestively, my foot outstretched and rubbing his bulge. “I want to see it.”
“Okay”, Ryan says, just as keen to perform as he is to pleasure me. “I can do that.”
He steps off the bed to give himself some space, while I prop myself up on my pillows, let my skirt ruck up just enough to give him a taste of what’s to come and settle in for the show.
Ryan pops the buttons on his jeans dramatically, while his cock seems to grow even bigger as he goes. With his fly completely open, his thickness presses against the whiteness of his boxershorts and makes me shudder in excitement. He seems even bigger now than he did before, perhaps because of the effect seeing him trapped behind fabric gives me. I watch with eyes as big as dinner plates as he expertly removes his jeans and then stands there like a carved statue of a Roman god, his absolute perfection unable to deny. He is gorgeous beyond question, with eyes that are so alive and emotive they look like universes in constant flux. His chest, torso and legs could all belong to an elite athlete, while his cock stands so proudly against the boxershorts imprisoning it, that he could model underwear for the adult industry. With his clothes on, Ryan is every girl’s dream, with them off he’s their forbidden fantasy.
I am wet just looking at him, and right now it’s impossible to hide just how turned on I am.
“You want me to stop?” Ryan asks, perhaps because he can see I’m practically crippled by his beauty.
“No fucking way”, I say, maybe a little more strongly than I expect.
“Okay”, Ryan says, shrugging, his fingers already teasing the waistband of his boxershorts, aware of exactly what he’s doing to me. “You know we’ve got all the time in the world now to enjoy this? Maybe we want to be careful not to rush things.”
I hitch my skirt a little higher so he can see the outline of my pussy and just how wet he’s making my panties.
“I guess that’s a good point”, Ryan says in response. “But if I take these off—.”
“Off”, I cut in, my patience running thin.
