Authors: Laura Day
"What kick?" Roman asked.
"Well, not everyone," she smiled.
Jimmy grinned. "I’ve got it on my iPhone?"
Laura laughed, "Alright, show it to him. I can't have him being the only one who hasn't seen it."
Jimmy, beaming, pulled out his phone, and showed Roman the scorpion-kick she shot earlier that day.
"Shit! Play that again," Roman ordered.
Jimmy played it again, and this time Roman took the phone from him, and held it closer to his eyes. "Son of a bitch! How the hell... how can you ... play that again!"
Jimmy did so.
"Fuck me running!"
Jimmy took back his iPhone, and thumbed it a few times, "Yeah, see, over one-hundred-thousand views already on YouTube."
"Holy shit! Wonder what the studio thinks about that?" she mused.
"Oh, this is gold," Jimmy assured her. "So much interest in the film already, and rising? They are dancing in the halls."
"How can you do that?" Roman asked. "No, show me. Kick me!" he ordered.
"I'm in a gown," she reminded him.
"So? You got slits."
She leaned closer. "I'm not wearing underwear."
"And that is a plus," he nodded. "Kick me."
She looked at Jimmy, "Excuse me. I have to kick my boyfriend."
And before he could move, she snapped her leg out and landed her kick just below Roman's chin, into his collar bone.
Roman took the blow with a shake of his body, and rubbed his chest.
The room erupted in applause.
She blushed, and then took a bow.
She shook her head. "Just proving it wasn't special effects to Roman here. Back to the regularly scheduled entertainment."
"That was impossible!" Roman gasped.
"That was nine weeks of training with some very sadistic people," she corrected.
"Did you say ‘boyfriend’?" he grinned.
"If we are at the stage where we are fighting in public, then you are my boyfriend. Minion would agree. In fact, she would insist."
"I kind of like the sound of that," he mused.
"Well," Jimmy said, clearing his throat, "I'll talk with you in the morning. We're in the same area, one studio over in fact. See you later."
"Yeah, see you," Roman said, still smiling at her.
She stepped closer, and rubbed at his shirt under the bow tie. "You have a stain there now."
"It will clean, or I'll get a new shirt. Shit, that was worth it. Fast too," he smiled. "Want to get out of here?"
"Can't. I'm waiting for a delivery. After that though, I'm all yours," she told him.
"Can I see you do your kick naked?" he asked.
"Will you be naked too?" she asked.
"Yes," he nodded.
"Then of course you can," she grinned.
One of the studio men came over to her, and discussed yet another project they wanted her in. Another action movie.
She listened, and said she was considering one already, but she was interested. While they were talking a young woman, probably nineteen, hurried up to her, and gave her a script.
"Thanks." Laura said.
"No problem. Loved your kick."
"Thanks again," she smiled.
"Is that from Barney?" the studio man asked.
"Yes," she nodded.
"We can work with him. You are going to be hot after this film, and we want to capitalize on that with another action film as soon as possible."
"Will I get to live in this one?"
"You'll be the primary, actually."
"Yes, so I'll call you this week, and get the script over to your agent," he said, and then shook her hand before heading back into the main crowd around the drinks, and food tables.
"Holy crap!" she whispered.
"Ready? Night light is burning."
"You didn't ride over here did you?"
"No, took a cab," he told her.
"Let's go then. I'll drive."
"That will be nice, gives me free hands."
Roman came back to his hotel room, shortly after five on Saturday. It wa
s a good day, with good pay, and he felt good about the work he was able to perform. It was amazing to him how easy it came, and how obvious it felt, but time after time the other writers just didn't get it, or couldn't see it, until he wrote it down, and passed it to them. Then they slapped foreheads, and smiled, and patted him on the back.
The re-writing was nearly complete when they stopped today. He expected only two, maybe four more hours tomorrow, and they would be set. That would give him nearly a full day with Laura, something he was really looking forward to. Depending on her script reading of course.
He put down his keys, and was shrugging off his leather jacket and froze.
The word was painted across the wall in bold red paint that looked like fresh blood.
Thoughts of Laura took a step back, and he scanned the room with his senses as he walked over to the fridge, and got his gun out from the crisper box. Gun in hand, he checked the bathroom, and the closet. No one was there, but someone got in, someone with time on their hands.
"Traitor?" he rolled the word over in his mouth.
The only thing he could possibly be a traitor to was the club, and he was definitely not a traitor there. Then he thought about what Laura had said about the paparazzi, and the lengths they would go to for a story. "Shit."
He put his gun in his bag, packed up his few things, and then called downstairs asking for the manager, and the head of security to come to his room.
A few minutes later the two men were studying the red-painted word on the wall with him.
"No one has a copy of your key card?" The security man asked.
"No. I've had one guest, and this is not her style. She would just kick me."
The security man smirked with more knowing in his eye than he should have had.
"You've seen it, haven't you," Roman asked him.
The security man grimaced, and then came clean. "Yes, I've seen the Laura Turner kick on YouTube. And, yes, I know she's been here a couple of times."
"Good at your job then," Roman remarked. "Then maybe you can keep this from happening in my new room?"
The manager perked up. "New room? Yes, of course. I'll get one for you right away. I'll need the police to look at this; will you talk with them?"
"Sure, but I have a date, so let's hurry this up." Then he pulled out his phone, and called Laura.
"Hey babe. Had a water leak in my room. They are switching me to a new one. I'm going to need maybe another hour? Hour and a half? To get settled in."
"Alright. It didn't get your tux did it? I'm very fond of that tux."
"No, the tux is fine. Well, as good as it can be after your brutal mistreatment of it."
"I did not mistreat it! I...complemented it...vigorously."
"Well, it’s in the same condition," he smiled.
"Could you, maybe, put on the pants, and the bow tie? Just that, for when I come over?" she asked sweetly.
"What's it worth to you?"
"Umm, what would you like?" she asked hesitantly.
"Four, like last time. Only four," he told her.
"Four? You are talking climaxes, aren't you," she breathed, and Roman could picture her biting her lip, which made things in his nether regions shift around, and take notice.
"With the tongue," he added, just to make sure she understood what he was talking about.
"Oh shit!" she gasped. "I... umm... three?"
"Four," he restated, holding his ground. If she wanted him dressed-up like a Chip-n-Dale, she could perform for him too.
"I barely survived two last night!" she squealed. "That's not fair!"
"If life were fair, you and I could live without paparazzi, and you would already be living with me, so put up or shut up, dear."
"You want to live with me? Wait a minute. Paparazzi? Are you being hassled again? There's no leak in your room is there? Roman?"
Shit, she is way too fast. "No, there's no leak. Someone got into the room. Security is here, and the police are on the way. I didn't want to worry you. It's nothing. Just a little vandalism to scare up a story I suspect."
"Someone graffitied the wall with paint. Some gibberish I don't understand. Maybe the police will recognize it, but I am moving rooms, and would very much like you to come over, when I find out the new room number."
"312." The manager said, hanging up his cell phone.
"Ah, 312. The manager just told me." Roman said.
"So, you lied?" she asked, and there was a slyness in her voice.
"Damn," he said. "Fine, three."
"Two," she shot back right away, "and I'll dance for you."
"Dance, huh? Done," he smiled. "You could have gotten down to just one with the dance thrown in. I didn't know that could be on the table."
"Shit!" she exclaimed.
Roman nearly laughed but didn't want to rub it in. "Done deal, baby. See you in an hour?"
"Two. I'm going to finish this script, so I have the whole day tomorrow. How did yours go today?"
"Good, real good. I could really get into this stuff."
"Well, yeah. It’s like building puzzles, and I like those."
"I could really enjoy that too, you know," she said casually.
"You mean, me as a writer, full time?"
"Is that a possibility?"
He thought about it. "I'm not sure it is, babe. Let's not go there right now, alright? It's not that easy, and you know why."
She sighed, "Yes, I do, and I won't go there."
"Thank you. See you soon."
Laura was curled up against him, with her head on his chest, Sunday night. It was an amazing weekend. She couldn't remember a time she was so excited, and so satisfied at the same time. Her body felt wondrous, and her mind was relaxed, and rested. She could sleep, or she could stay up and talk, or she could incite him to make love to her again, or whatever she wanted. Being with him was making her limitless.
It was so different than her last boyfriend, or the other two. They were more or less burdens on her life. People she had to find room for, which meant giving up something of herself, with nothing filling the hole it caused in her.
Roman filled holes she didn't even realize she had until they were overflowing. What would living with him be like?
"I've never lived with anyone before, except my mother, and I don't think that counts," she told him.
He rubbed, and fondled her ass, until she was sighing with pleasure.
"I've lived with two women. Both were major mistakes."
"How do you know I won't be a major mistake?"
"You aren't a burden," he told her.
She perked, having her own thoughts voiced back to her. "A burden?"
"I'm... I look forward to seeing you. You rejuvenate me. Like right now, I'm tired, so I could sleep, but I could also get up, and ride all night long with you, if you wanted to do that."
She was about to answer when he added, "No, the only major mistake here is letting our situations keep us apart."
She thrummed on this for a while. "I don't want to go another two weeks without you."
"But you said..."
"I know what I said, and it was wrong, or it is wrong with you. I don't know how, but tomorrow morning, I'll slide right back into my role, like I never left it. And then, when I see you, and you kiss me, it’s like mind-wipe. Bam! Julie is gone, and I'm in your arms."
"What about something like Wednesday?"
"Yes," she said without hesitation.
He shifted a little. "Let's try it then."
"Alright, Wednesday. Here, right after the studio. We can go to dinner, and then relax for a while?"
"That sounds like the perfect end of a day."
"Want to ride out to the beach?" she asked.
"No, Wednesday. I'm very comfortable right now, thank you. Unless you want to, and then I'm up, and moving."
He fondled her ass again, "No, I'm good. Right here, with you. Wednesday sounds good though."
"We could go to that place again?"
"Rhumb Line? Sure. That sounds good actually."
She drifted after that, feeling like she was home, and Minion was going to jump up on the bed any minute.
Tuesday, Laura came home, and froze in her doorway. Her house was trashed. The china hutch was on the floor. Book cases were tossed. Everything in the room was dumped, or tossed or smashed. Then she saw on the wall, painted in blood red, a message,
PILLOW TALK WILL GET MORE THAN YOUR PUSSY KICKED!
"Minion!" she screamed. "Minion!"
Franticly she searched the house, and finally found Minion in her closet, lying on her side, panting.
"Oh shit, baby!"
She reached for her cat, and Minion hissed. "Alright, but I have to take you to the vet, right now. I'll get your cage. Hold on baby."
She got Minion into her travel cage, with only a few bites and scratches. Minion seemed to be in too much pain for anything else.
She drove like a mad woman to the emergency vet hospital. They took Minion right in, and left her in the waiting room. She called Roman.
"I need you," she cried.
"Where are you?" he asked, and she could hear him putting on his jacket, and then the jingle of keys.
"I'm at the emergency hospital, with Minion. Let me give you the address."
Ten minutes later she heard his bike outside the waiting room, pulling into the parking lot. She ran outside to him, and threw herself into his arms.
"He hurt her, bad. I don't know how bad. They haven't told me yet. I don't know anything!"
"I don't know, but he doesn't like me sleeping with you," she told him, and then described her house.
He stiffened, and she could feel something in it...a recognition. "What? Roman? What?"
He told her about his room.
"Traitor? But, that doesn't make any sense. I heard Brent, he told you yes, and that you had permission. You even went down that week? Right? If there was a problem, wouldn't he have told you?"
Roman nodded, "Yes, exactly my thoughts, which led me to thinking it was paparazzi trying to stir up a story."
"But... that doesn't make sense with my house, and Minion," she whimpered.
"I get that as well." He nodded, walking her back into the waiting room.
She sat on his lap, and he held her until the doctor came out to the room. She jumped off his lap, and went to him.
"Minion has three cracked ribs. She was hit pretty hard. Any idea what happened?"
"I think someone kicked her," Laura told him, crying. She felt Roman's hands on her shoulders, so she grasped one of his hands.
"Hard kick. Must have been wearing something like steel-toed boots."
"Boots?" she asked, and looked down at Roman's boots. "Like those?"
The doctor lifted an eyebrow, "Something very similar, yes."
She caught his look, "No, Roman didn't do it. I'm just asking."
He nodded, and relaxed a little. "Yes. We’re going to keep her for at least three days. She needs pain management, and a chance to rest. She's been through a trauma."
"She can't come home?" Laura cried, tears in her eyes now.
"No, I wouldn't advise it, unless you can be with her all the time. She shouldn't be left alone. She needs to be contained, so she doesn't try to move around."
"Oh gawd, poor Minion," she whimpered.
"I need to get back in there. I'll call you if there are any changes," he said, and then turned, and walked back through the white doors.
She turned back to Roman, "I need you to come home with me. Please?"
"Of course," he told her.
He followed her home, and walked with her to her door. She opened the door, and invited him in, and he stepped inside. The first man she ever invited home, and she never expected the moment to be like this.
She watched him look around the place, cataloging things, memorizing. He looked predatory, and very dangerous. She liked that look right now. She wanted that look.
When he was studying the message, she cleared her eyes, and walked up to him. "Roman?"
"Yes?" he asked, still studying the message.
"I want him hurt."
He looked down at her.
"I mean it Roman. I want him hurt, badly. I want him to scream. Are you listening to me?"
"Good. Will you do that for me? Can you?"
"Yes," he told her.
She nodded her head, considering the matter settled, and took his hand, "Good. Now I want you to come to bed with me, please."
"Have you eaten?"
"Gawd, I can't eat now," she moaned.
"Yes, you can. I'll take care of this, Minion will heal, and you have to take care of yourself. Please."
She twisted in her mind, but nodded her head. "Alright, but something light, alright?"
"I noticed a Chinese place just down the street."
"They’re good. I'll call them."
"No, let's ride down there. Then we'll come back, and clean this up, and cover that, and then we'll go to bed."
She looked into his eyes, "Alright. You sure are bossy."
"I get that way when I'm wrathful."
"Oh," she nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. But I want you that way right now. So it's alright. Let's go."
They ate dinner, and then came back to her place. Roman didn't pause. He just started cleaning things up. Setting thing back up straight, and putting things away. She brought in a large trash can, and they filled it with broken plates, and bowls and vases.
"You don't want to call the police?" he asked as they worked.
"This has something to do with your club, right?"
"Yes, it looks that way."
"Then no. I want him hurt, not in jail. If he is hurt, and the police know about this, they may make the mental leap, and tie it to you, or at the very least, to your club."
He tacked sheets over the painted message. She watched him do this thinking it was over-kill, but didn't argue. Then he took her upstairs, stripped her clothing, and took a shower with her. He rubbed her down, fondled her with loving care, and she trembled with the release of tension and pent up anger.
Dried off, he took her to bed and there, with his loving hands, brought her to three soothing, wonderful orgasms. She took care of him with her mouth, loving the feeling, finding it just as soothing, and then laid next to him, feeling safe.
"I'm going to leave you for a few hours now. I need to make some Skype calls. From my room. I'll come right back when I'm done."
"I can't come with you?"
"No, I'll only be a couple of hours at the most. You can't hear what's going to be said."
"Alright. There's an extra key-set hanging beside the door. I want you to keep them. Bring your stuff back with you. Please?"
He was quiet for a while, "At least until Minion is back."