A few hours later and I’m pacing nervously in my dressing room. I adjust my codpiece for the thousandth time. It’s just a simple piece of hard flat plastic fixed over my cock, but it’s the only thing that is going to save me. My costume for the upcoming scene is a white tee shirt and soft pale gray pajama trousers for fuck’s sake. Even if my cock doesn’t get excited, it’s large enough to be obscene in such an outfit. Something I’m normally very proud of, but for some reason, right now the thought of my junk on display gives me chills.
The intimacy coach wanted me and Mackenzie to practice kissing in privacy, with just her observing. Mackenzie flat out refused, and I pretended to be fine with that. The look of gratitude he shot me momentarily warmed my heart. Then my mood had plummeted when I realized how desperate he was not to kiss me anymore than absolutely necessary.
The awkward consequence was that now we were going to have our first kiss in front of the cameras and crew. To say I am nervous is an understatement. I am physically shaking. This state of mind is ridiculous, I am a great kisser. I have plenty of experience. Just not in front of cameras or with him. The desire to make it the best kiss of his life burns through me. I’m more concerned with that, than making it look good, which is absurd. Mackenzie Jones has robbed me of the ability to form rational thoughts.
I’m called to set and I get my head in the game. Abe is chilling at home, he hasn’t seen Cain for a few days and he is trying not to worry.
The doorbell rings. I whip my head around, jump off of the sofa and stride to the door. Then I pause with my hand on the handle. The director wants to do this as one continuous shot, so I fling open the door, ignoring the whir of the camera as it moves on its tracks to its next position. On the other side of the door, it is dark and the rain machine is on. Mackenzie is curled up on the doorstep, soaking wet.
He looks up at me as the rain cascades down his face. His arms are wrapped tightly around his middle. His black leather outfit is soaked through. He looks lost. Broken.
“I had nowhere else to go,” he says meekly, as if he expects to be sent away.
Sapphire eyes are full of pain, fear and longing. He is hurt, vulnerable and in danger, and of all the people in the world, he has come to me.
I reach down, grab the lapels of his long leather coat and haul him to his feet. I pull him out of the darkness, into warmth, light, safety, and my arms. He squeaks in surprise. Then my lips are on his. He is cold, but the feel of him lights me on fire. Kissing him is like kissing electricity, the rush tears through every cell of my body and soul leaving me irrevocably changed. I will never be the same again. I feel him in every part of me.
He melts into my embrace, and I don’t mind holding him up. The feel of him in my arms awakens a hunger deep within me. He is pliant and soft, and it makes me want to protect him, cherish him and keep him safe. It also makes me want to take him apart, destroy him, watch him come undone and surrender to me completely.
My cock bulges painfully against the hard plastic wedged in my underwear. I moan and he whimpers needily. His hands are twisted into my tee shirt, holding on as I ravish his mouth.
I want him. All of him. My desire for him burns like nothing else. I would give my wealth, my youth, my fame, my very soul to have him beneath me. I yearn to give him so much pleasure that he forgets his name.
“Cut!” someone yells and suddenly my arms are empty.
I blink in confusion but he has only moved a few steps away. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Tongue?” he says with his eyebrow quirked, but his eyes look dazed and his breathing is rapid.
He has to have felt some of what I just experienced, there is no way on earth that was one sided. I flush as I realize how carried away I got.
“That was great boys, but Kit you were supposed to step outside so your tee shirt gets all wet,” says the director.
I flush some more. I never forget directions. But Mackenzie looked so cold. So alone. My mind is a tangled mess. Am I becoming a method actor? Blurring the lines between reality and fiction? I’m struggling to separate Abe’s thoughts from my own.
The director looks up from reviewing the footage. “It is as hot as hell, we will leave it as it is.”
My stomach flips over and my heart goes crazy. I’m not going to get to kiss him again. At least not today. I’m not sure how I feel about it. Crushingly devastated, yes, but also relieved. I’ve never experienced anything so intense in my life. I’m not sure I can repeat it and keep my sanity intact.
Not that my sanity is intact at the moment. I’m all sorts of confused and overwhelmed. But right now, I need to go to my dressing room and change for the next scene.
I can’t look at him. I just can’t. I will completely fall apart if I do. So I flee without meeting his gaze, but I feel his eyes burning into me until I’m out of his line of sight.