Caught on Camera

Chapter 17, Scene 2, Part 30

Scene 2

Mopette! Rachel awoke from a nightmare featuring the tiny white dog dangling limp from a monstrous hound's jaws. She sat up abruptly, displacing the arm Mickey'd flung across her chest.

"What's wrong?" Mickey mumbled. He pried open an eyelid to peer at the illuminated bedside clock. "It's two a.m."

"Wendy was supposed to walk Mopette before bedtime."

"So?" Mickey groped for the closest breast. "Com'ere, beautiful."

She ignored him, leaning to flick the wall switch that illuminated the bedside lamps. "Candy fired Wendy after the bouquet toss."

Blinking in the light, Mickey levered himself up on elbows. "I saw that coming."

"The poor, neglected pet." Rachel threw off the duvet and began to climb out of bed.

"What? Hold on a second. Where're you going?" He reached to scoop her waist. "You can't bust into the bridal suite at this hour. Candy took the Mopette for her evening constitutional or, more likely, asked someone to do it. It's her dog."

Rachel sagged against him. "You're right, of course. I woke up in a panic."

Mickey licked his forefinger, reached and rubbed an ultra sensitive nipple oh so slowly. Her girl parts clenched, instantly wet. He had her buttons down.

"I have an idea how to relax you."

Rachel raised a questioning brow. "I'm listening."

"Shower massage jets."

***

An hour later, they tumbled exhausted and sated onto the bed. Pulsing hot water jets on three walls of the double shower had pummeled their bodies during frantic lovemaking. Mickey, his mouth fastened to hers, demonstrated creative uses for a small curved bar of soap. No wonder so many hotel soaps disappeared into guests' luggage.

Mickey immediately began to snore softly, his naked body splayed face down in the center of the mattress. Tenderly she drew a sheet over him, switched off the lamps and crawled in beside him.

She closed her eyes, floated in a bubble of happiness, ran fingers through Mickey's thick head of hair. Four orgasms in one night.

Not in one month.

One night.

She lusted after Mick's body, sure. But she loved his character -- the considerate caring, cynical wit, casual confidence. He said out loud what she'd never dare say. His integrity influenced her to be a better person.

That weekend she'd discovered that the actors she'd put on a pedestal for so many years were regular people with normal problems. The photo shoot debacle had dumped cold water on her burning desire to work on Hollywood film sets to be near them.

She still wanted to move to California, but for a different reason -- to be with Mickey. However, he lived in a world of fakery, and truthfully she herself was a fake above all fakes. Did she deserve him? Suddenly wide awake, she sat up and absently nibbled the edge of a manicured thumbnail.

Before he fell asleep, he'd suggested they exchange contact information at breakfast. He'd ordered room service while she was in the bathroom. She'd truthfully explained that breakfast was impossible. Duty compelled her to leave early. Was it her fault that he'd assumed the duty involved walking Mopette?

Lunch then, he'd insisted. She mentally calculated the time necessary to turn over her allotment of rooms by the three p.m. check-in. Even an hour break for a meal in town was impossible to fit in. Or so she told herself.

Besides, she'd promised Candy to keep her true status a secret. If Mickey ever discovered he'd slept with a hotel chambermaid rather than Candy's cousin, he'd be aghast at the deception. It's a simple matter to cut and run when the girl lives two thousand miles away from your own home.

Mickey turned on his side. In his sleep his arm curled around her waist to draw her to him. He nestled against the length of her body. "Rachel," he mumbled.

She brushed a forelock of dark hair from his forehead, released a shuddering breath over the lump in her throat. Her heart ached at the thought of never seeing him again. I can't bear to lose him.

A plan germinated. Why not reinvent herself, actually become the person he believed her to be?

"You have my heart, Mickey. Take care of it until I save enough money to fly out to Hollywood."