Hallowed Grounds

Chapter 2 - Caller

When you went to bed on Tuesday night and still hadn't heard from Gary, you began to wonder if you'd imagined the attraction. The air between you had seemed charged, ignited by some invisible heat that had left you with a permanent flame whipping between your legs. It was becoming inconvenient— leaving you uncomfortably wet at the coffee shop and causing you to lose focus when working on your scripts. The realization that it might never be satisfied made you want to cry, and you stared at the phone by your bed in frustration.

You had a scene due Friday, and you knew you needed to be working on it... in the off chance that Thursday provided the distraction for which you were hoping. But you couldn't concentrate on silly angsty teen drama when you were feral in such a decidedly "adult" way.

You'd made the mistake earlier in the evening of trekking to Blockbuster in search of some of his movies. The guy behind the counter had actually heard of Gary and led you to a few choices... one of which was State of Grace. Since Gary had mentioned that one as a possibility to watch together, you'd selected Sid and Nancy instead. The man was a brilliant actor, you soon discovered. His performance of Sid was mesmerizing, if also disturbing. But now you lie awake hung up on one of the sexiest kissing scenes you'd ever seen in a film, where Gary nipped and sucked ravenously on the actress's chin, and your skin crawled anxiously with your desire to experience it first hand.

It's with this scene on repeat in your head that you finally drifted off to sleep, only to be startled into heart palpitations by your phone ringing at 1:35 a.m.

"H- hello?" your sleepy voice croaked.

"Hello, beautiful," a slurred, velvety cockney voice replied.

And your clit did a fucking back handspring.

You grinned and tried to squash the squeal that threatened to emanate from your throat as you flipped over onto your stomach. This was actually good inspiration for your little teenage drama script, because your feet were kicking and your cheek happily rubbing into your pillow like a silly preteen listening to New Kids on the Block.

"Looks like another late breakfast might be in store for you," you commented, trying to maintain some composure and wit.

"I'm nocturnal now," he agreed. "It's part of the role. Sorry if you're not. We won't be long... just wanted to give you the address, if you're still interested." His speech was definitely sloppy, more gravely, and if you weren't crazy... a bit strained, like he might be otherwise occupied while talking. Did he call you while he was touching himself? Surely not... that might mean he was thinking of you while touching himself...