Just Like You ✓

Twenty Four

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She drove me against the shower wall, her tongue still in my mouth. Then she lifted me; I wrapped my arms around her neck, my back pressed to the wall. Her hand disappeared between my legs, and then I felt her fingers enter me. She attacked my pussy with fierce resolve, going straight for broke, the water and my own juices providing the lubrication I needed. She plunged hard and fast, our intense kissing and necking driving her thirst to make me cum.

She caught my frantic moans between her lips. Every thrust hit my spot and made my skin tingle. It was amazing how well she knew her way around my body now. She knew how much force to strike with, what angle to enter me from, in order to send me over the edge.

I must have been soaking wet by the time I came, but the shower washed away any trace of my sap.

"I don't want us to fight," she breathed, her lips grazing mine, her nipples rubbing against mine. The perfect way to end a shower-fuck. "We've done that enough."

I kissed her lightly and nodded in agreement, all fucked out, body worn out. No, I didn't want us to fight either, but if the make up sex was always this good, I wouldn't have minded arguing every now and then...

I would have taken an argument over silence or distance from her any day. Because the following week something changed between us, and I didn't know what or why. Had I done something wrong? Said something she didn't like? I had no clue because she wasn't communicating with me. It went on like that for two weeks.

"I think I got the kiss wrong. Can we shoot that again?" Noah said, moments after the director had yelled cut and Wallace and Brady had ceased locking lips.

I slapped him on the arm. "Stop being a perv, Noah. The kiss was fine. You'll try anything to stick you tongue down my throat."

He chuckled. "You have to admit, it was a pretty good kiss."

"Only because you kiss like a girl!"

"Ouch. That's just mean."

I shrugged. "I'm just telling it like it is."

"Tell me I'm at least better than Miss Knowles." He lowered his voice then as we walked to our trailers.

"Nice try. I'm not talking."

"Damn it. I thought you were going to spill then, slip up and confirm what everybody already knows. Speaking of the devil..." He nodded in the direction of Beyonce's trailer, which she'd just stepped into. She'd arrived on set to shoot our scenes later that day.

I said I'd speak to Noah later, he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively and told me to have fun, then I went to see Beyonce.

"Hey," I said when I stepped into her trailer. It looked just like mine in its design, but just like her rented house, it lacked that homey feel. Pristine. It always looked unused.

She didn't look happy to see me, more agitated than anything. She had a script in her hand -- a thick one. It wasn't a Ladies of Justice script. 

"Hey," she mumbled. "I'm kinda busy right now, Nicki--"

"You're always busy. We haven't seen each other off set in two weeks." I sat down beside her, so close our legs were touching. I wanted her to remember what I felt like. I stroked her hair and kissed her face. "I miss you."