One More Time(21)

“Correct assumption,” I say, placing my hand over my still-pounding heart and trying to catch my breath. “Because I don’t want to talk to you off camera. I want to maintain professional distance. I explained this on the first day.” I’m terse, but how can I not be? He’s in my freaking trailer! After the set has closed down. After we kissed!

For some reason, the realization that we’re alone only makes my heart beat faster.

“You’re right,” he says, earnestly. “I’m only here to apologize. Jenna, I’m sorry about what happened back there.”

I’m too stunned to speak, which turns out to be a good thing because Tanner continues with even more apologies.

“I shouldn’t have done that back there. Kissed you. It was unprofessional and inappropriate. Please forgive me.”

“Hiding in my trailer absolutely falls into the unprofessional and inappropriate category, Tanner,” I snip, lashing out against the feeling in my chest that’s squeezing my heart. The feeling that despite all my big talk about professionalism, what I really want is be lost in his arms, just one more time.

“I know. But your PA couldn’t get ahold of you. And I got worried.”

I force myself to look Tanner in the face. He looks like a guilty puppy dog – big eyes, head hung low. I did ignore a lot of texts. And regardless of how messed up the situation is between us, it was sort of nice that he wanted to make sure I got here okay.

And I want to be reasonable. Even if my insides are all wrecked from the past, we still have a present to work through together. Maybe if I raise the white flag we’ll actually get through this thing in one piece.

I sit down next to Tanner, just to let him know I’m not planning on shoving him straight out of my trailer anymore. And then I dig deep and play nice. “Obviously our bodies have some sort of muscle memory. We’re just reacting to that. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs. “Yeah. I guess that makes sense.”

“Also that was totally in the heat of a big scene moment. Good actors let themselves get carried away. That’s what happened. We can still be adults about this, moving forward. We can still be professional.”

“Right, right. We’re professionals.”

He’s looking at me now. I can’t quite make out the expression on his face.

Part of me hopes that he’s as confused as I am.

“Today meant nothing,” I say. “Our past is in the past.”

“Totally in the past. But when I’m working with you…”

I feel myself inch closer to him. “...what?”

“Sometimes I can’t tell where we leave off and our characters begin.” Is he sitting nearer than he was a few seconds ago?

“I know. I feel the same way,” I confess, and then I’m definitely moving closer to him. Definitely staring at his lips. We’re like two magnets. Simply telling them to stay apart never stops the pull.

“But that’s the job, right?” he says, and his eyes are on my mouth now.

I nod. “We have to put everything aside and just focus on the work.”

“Right. Yes. I can do that.” He’s so close we’re almost touching. Then he reaches his hand out and places it on my thigh. I feel a chill run up my body, and I close my eyes. The warm, heavy feeling of his hand is so familiar and so exciting at once. “Can you do that?”

The honest answer is that I don’t know. I open my eyes and find him staring at me. I get lost in his stare. For a moment, we hesitate.

Then the next thing I know, my lips are pressed against his and his tongue is finding its way inside my mouth. I don’t know who started it, but neither of us can deny this is what we both want in this moment. Have wanted since this afternoon. Maybe since we first saw each other outside craft services two weeks ago.

He cradles my face between his hands and shifts me closer, as though afraid I’ll break our connection.

But I’m not going anywhere. I want more. I swing my leg over to straddle him, so I can press my hips into his pelvis. I groan when I feel how hard he is, groan with the need that’s already built up unbearably between my thighs. I rock back and forth, desperate. Only a few scraps of cloth stand between us, but they’re enough to frustrate me.

He stands up, me still astride him, then he tosses me onto my back in front of him. He kneels on the ground, and I’m lying on the couch of my trailer looking up at the ceiling, and a part of me is wondering how the hell this happened again. But a much louder part of me doesn’t want it to end before we’re both naked and screaming out all our unresolved anger in orgasm.

Before I have time to register what’s happening, I feel Tanner’s fingers creep up my thighs and under my panties. He plays with me, teasing before he plunges two fingers inside my body.

I gasp in surprise and delight.

This. This is what I need.

I let my thighs fall farther apart, giving him all the access he wants. Tanner dances and swirls his fingers around, first deep inside me and then up to brush my clit. I grip the couch, nearly paralyzed in anticipation. My legs begin to shake, and I can’t remember my own name anymore. All I can think about is how incredible this feels, and how, improbably, he’s become even more talented at touching a woman over the years. Holy shit.

I’ve never been fingered like this before.