Chapter 4 — The Shoot

The coffee was black and bitter, with only the suggestion of sugary sweetness. Exactly as Antonio had always liked it. He imbibed the stuff like a man with a great thirst and would knock back two more before the end of the day. Sitting in the back of the limousine, cocooned in its warmth and soft, leather seats, the cup was now cool in its holder and untouched. He wasn’t going to touch it anymore.

His brother Anthony sat next to him, and across their seat was Antonio’s assistant, Mack. They were close but their voices may as well be hushed tones given the distance of Antonio’s thoughts. He stared out of the heavily tinted windows without really seeing anything. Shops had the same facades as the houses they whizzed past as far as he was concerned, and the rolling hills pretty much like the fields. Crimson, gold, brown and green still dominated the landscape though it was predicted winter would begin in less than two weeks. Antonio hoped to be out of the city by then. He thought to either return to Williamsway or put an ocean between him and the entire Carlton by hitting any random country.

He closed his eyes. And as it had been happening since returning to civilization two days ago, his mind was plunged into an amber fire, burning bright and hot. Karina’s stunned expression at his announcement to finish the movie was just too precious to be forgotten so he played it over and over. Dark hair mussed and falling over her eyes, those gorgeous eyes heavy with sleep. She was not expecting him to ever say that, and it was worth seeing her cross and struggling to remain awake during the flight back. He tortured her by calling her, “Abominable snow bitch,” delighting in the reds spreading across her face. No smart comebacks or any type of comeback came since she could barely stand on two feet. She was that tired.

Once in the plane, he ordered her to just close her eyes and use his shoulder for a pillow.

Her head slumped on his shoulder as soon as he finished talking. Then she started snoring. It had their pilot turning to look at them—some idiot who wouldn’t stop leering at Karina. This must be the asshole she told him about, Antonio thought, making a big show of putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. Karina had sighed, murmured his name, and snuggled against him like a kitten. The pilot never looked at her again.

Karina was still yawning hugely when they landed. In between, she asked Antonio to give her a couple of days to set things up—there was the crew to organize, the location to confirm, not to mention the studio execs and producers she had to pacify. He told her he should face those sharks. She disagreed and gave him the truth: they were serious pissed. There was no choice, she had to be the one to deal with them. Anthony confirmed it when he arrived to pick up Antonio from the airport.

He had not seen Karina since, but they kept in touch through calls. For the shoot, the crew would be minimal—just her and Alan. The room had to be prepped by a staff but once shooting commenced, they were to clear out. Any adjustments to be made—lights, for example—she could do herself. But Alan had to be there in case of changes in the script.

The shoot would be at The Evergreens, an estate in the suburbs of Carlton. It was currently in the market for thirty million dollars. Tall iron gates with curlicues, armed with security, manned the property. The drive from here to the mansion was around a mile and a half.

Trees lined the paved driveway. Despite the clear, professional touch of a landscape architect, the surrounding forest was still natural and lush. The Evergreens loomed straight ahead. The wildness of nature gave way to trimmed lawns and bushes of roses the closer they approached the house.

“There’s no turning back, Antonio,” Anthony said, knowing his brother wasn’t really asleep. Antonio opened his eyes and looked at him.

A man with soft facial features, Anthony was an aberration of the handsome features known about the Blake’s. His hair was lighter, nearly brown, instead of black. Rather than brown eyes, he had a dark black gaze that almost melted in the sclera.

Solomon Blake had been a harsh father. He ruled the boardroom with an iron fist and people quaked at the sight of him—including his sons. He didn’t mince words in expressing disappointment in them, especially with Antonio. Anthony consigned him to a life of never measuring up to Solomon’s unforgiving standards and it was only his sharp mind that averted some of the latter’s wrath.

Antonio, though younger, was the son Solomon wanted at the helm. The relationship between them had been bitter since the day Antonio dropped out of law school and pursued acting. The accident only exacerbated a tensed relationship.

If Anthony was the Blake Solomon was ashamed of, Antonio was the Blake ill-deserving of the name. He refused to have Antonio face him without a prosthetic.

“I know,” he said, lowering his hand.

“You only have to call me if you change your mind.”

The limo stopped. Antonio saw the driver walk around to open the door for him. “I won’t be changing my mind.”

“Go with him, Mack,” Anthony told him.

“No,” was Antonio’s quick answer. The door opened but he turned to the men. Speaking more calmly, he said, “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be alright.”

“Antonio—” Anthony began to insist but Antonio stepped out of the car and nodded at the driver. The door closed.

He barely acknowledged the security and members of the crew who greeted him as he entered the house. That was fine. Despite doggedly walking ahead and having no idea where he should go, he noticed that people were either too careful to not look at the empty cuff of his jacket or snuck a glance that they thought he wouldn’t see. That’s right. Look at the poor disabled fool, he thought bitterly.

Though Evergreens was up for sale, it was still furnished. The antique, elegant furniture reminded him too much of home. Perhaps it shouldn’t be the place to go when shooting wrapped up.

Before he could take another step forward, someone called out to him. He squinted at the young man who had called him. He had downcast eyes and could really use a lesson on proper posture. This was Karina’s personal assistant, but Antonio didn’t really bother to try to remember his name. But the boy knew him.

“Mr. Blake. It’s good to see you,” he said, sounding a little breathless. “Er, if you would follow me?”

“Is Karina here?” Antonio asked, falling into a step beside him. The hallway was wide enough for a parade.

“Yes. She’s helping set everything up. We’ve prepared a room for you.” He said as they climbed up the stairs.

“Tell the bit—tell Karina I wish to speak to her,” Antonio instructed as he was led into one of the bedrooms. A mirror surrounded with lights was already there as well as a rack filled with clothes—suits for Antonio to choose from.

He eyed with frank appreciation the young woman with the auburn braid setting up the make-up cases on the mirror. Like man who brought him here, Antonio had no idea of her name although she had been doing his make-up from the start of the movie.

“Hello,” she said with a friendly smile, her eyes bright. She was beautiful, he noticed, putting on a smile that was more polite than warm.

In the old days, Antonio would not hesitate to fuck her and string her along until production wrapped. She was sexy even in her high-necked angora sweater and slim jeans. Her breasts were full and thrusting, her waist small and curvy. She looked like someone built for bed, would brag about being fucked by Antonio Blake.

Antonio let out an inward sigh. Yes, in the old days.

“It’s nice to see you, Antonio,” she told him, walking past to open the door. She smelled of spicy perfume. Indeed, someone to fuck a long time ago. There was no stirring in his dick, not even the warmth in his blood in anticipation of spreading her legs. Her stared at her dully as she said, “You can change here. I’ve arranged the suits according to the order you might like, left being the one I think you’ll most like and the last one at the right a long shot.”

“You wished to speak to me?”

The mocking tone coming from behind him tugged a smile from his lips. He turned around and his grin widened.

One day that scowl would freeze on her ugly face and make her even uglier. The auburn-haired woman smiled at Karina, who gave her a slight nod. Antonio cocked an eyebrow as she let herself out. Might as well. She reminded him of who he used to be, and it was pointless to think of the past. He’d rather move forward.

Despite the cold weather, Karina’s forehead and neck shone with sweat. Her dark hair looked like she had pulled and pushed at the rough mass. Dark pink was the color of her face and her eyes, though narrowed at him, were the color of garnets. She wore a long, V-necked gray t-shirt, dotted with sweat. He licked his lips upon noticing her nipples tight and straining against the cloth. She wore black jeans and tall, black boots. He admired the muscles of her arms peeking under the sleeves, the strength of her two hands. His shoulder tickled, remembering the rough surface of her palm when she touched him.

“Of course,” he drawled, dropping on a chair and gesturing with his shoulder she takes the one across.

“You do happen to know that I’m prepping the room for the shoot. I can’t sit down. What do you want?” She demanded. She headed for the rack. As she did, Antonio noticed the soft swing of her breasts under her t-shirt. She doesn’t wear a bra.

Antonio loved lingerie on women, as did every man. The removal of a bra was seduction itself, and the gift of full, heavy breasts freed from it was the best. They made women so good to hold and it was fun squeezing the mounds. He loved having sex with women roughly because their breasts jiggled hard. Nothing turned him on more than a woman who wasn’t shy about her pleasure.

Since seeing Karina’s nipples under her t-shirt when she was in his bedroom, he had been oddly intrigued. She was wearing white and the rest of her was close to that color. Despite the quick glance, he saw her dark nipples. He couldn’t remember if he had been with a woman who didn’t wear bras. And he thought at the time that Karina just chose to do without one. But seeing her once again braless, he was surer it was an item of clothing she really did with that. Interesting. Maybe. He hadn’t had sex with a woman in so long, and maybe he was in need of something different.

Her breasts were small, though. The only reason he knew of them was because of her nipples. She must be flat as a board. Her hips weren’t round and womanly but her legs--now those were burned in his memory. Long with toned calves, surprisingly delicate, slim ankles. Lightly spotted skin from thigh to ankle. Too bad she was hiding them now in her boots.

Before he could answer, she pulled a suit from the rack, glared at it then brought it to Antonio. “Wear this.” Her tone was commanding.

“Damn, you can’t be pleasant for a change?” Antonio complained, yanking it from her hand and tossing it to the bed. “I just want to see how you’re doing, that’s all.”

Karina looked like she wanted to murder him. “Are you kidding me?”

He chuckled and relaxed in his seat. “I kid you not. Come on. Have a seat. Relax.”

“Are you out of your mind? Antonio, we’re delayed. We’re delayed and I was only able to get us two days to finish this movie and you want me to relax?’

Now her eyes were fire. They were something to see.

“Get up. Up!” She exclaimed when Antonio continued to lounge on the chair. He was still laughing as he stood up. She stomped to the bed and removed the shirt from the suit. “Get dressed. Now.”

She held out the white shirt from the hanger, dangling it from her fingertips. Antonio sighed, took it from her and stood up. He put the shirt on the chair then shrugged off his jacket, revealing his white tee. Karina turned to leave.

“Hold on. We haven’t talked yet,” he told her.

She shot him an exasperated look. “What about?”

With his left hand, he dragged his t-shirt off. He grinned as her eyes darted away. He knew it wasn’t because she couldn’t stand the sight of his shoulder. He was still muscular. Though the use of his right arm had diminished, he performed regular exercise to keep it strong and muscled.

In spite of the lack of an arm, Antonio knew he looked good. He smirked at the way Karina was deliberately not staring at his chest. It was dark and ridged, sprinkled with black hair.

“My last scene,” he said, slipping on the white shirt. It felt crisp and cool. Nice. He slipped his right arm through the sleeve first then frowned, unable to reach for the left sleeve. Karina looked at him and he nodded.

Taking the shirt, she stood behind him and held it out so he could slip his left arm through. He turned around, his eyes half-squinting as he inclined with his head that she could button him up. Her cheeks reddened and her fingers fluttered to his chest. They felt like the wings of a hummingbird in earnest flight.

“What about your last scene?” She asked gruffly, staring too intently at the buttons she was working on. She stood against the light. Antonio saw the gray bruises under her gaze brought on by exhaustion, and he looked away, uncomfortable with the flash of concern he suddenly felt for the woman that was both the key to the next chapter of his career and also his tormentor.

So, he focused on the airy brushes of her fingertips on his skin. Her nails, he noticed, were round and short, unpolished but clean.

It was a novel experience having a woman dressing him for a change. His abdominal muscles tensed as her fingers lowered there. She kept her movements brisk.

“What about it?” She asked, raising her eyes to look at him.

He could smell the shampoo from her hair. Coconut, he guessed, wishing he could take a deeper whiff. She didn’t seem to be wearing perfume.

“You promise it’s just you, me and Alan?” He asked.

“Of course.” She said defensively. “Didn’t I give you my word?”

Antonio shrugged and toed off his shoes. As he did, the flush on Karina’s face intensified. She took a step back and ended up on her ass on the bed. His smile was arrogant and laced with mischief as he started unbuckling his belt. Dark eyes glared at him before her feet slammed on the carpeted floor.

“You can dress on your own,” she hissed, lurching up. “Or I can get Neena.”

Antonio pretended to frown. “We’re not done talking.”

With a flourish, he pushed his pants and kicked them away from him, stripper-style. He was wearing black boxer briefs. Karina’s eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets as they skidded to his bulge. Antonio walked around the room like it was no big deal, helping himself to a soda from the mini bar the crew had set up.

“What? You’re going to be all bloated!” Karina gasped. “And put your pants on!”

Antonio made a show of bending in front of the mini bar again. “I remember my contract quite well. There’s no cream cheese from Philly here. That was specific,” he added, affecting a scolding, annoyed tone. He straightened up, turned and ah. There. Big amber eyes and darkened cheeks. He shook his head at her and took a sip of the soda.

Karina growled at the ceiling before storming toward him. She wrenched the can from his hands and declared, “Antonio Blake, I swear if this shoot gets delayed because you got gassy or some other stupid reason, I’m going to staple your skinny ass on the bed!”

“Don’t body-shame me,” Antonio drawled, finding way too much fun riling her up. Chuckling, he brushed past her and reached for the pants. Once again, he bent at the waist exaggeratedly, adding an innocent wiggle. He heard Karina groan, “God, give me strength,” as he slid his hand through the pants to hold the waistband open. He had to sit on the bed when it was halfway up his knees to pull them easier. He glanced at Karina as he shimmied them on before leaping back to his feet. He pressed his hand to the front packet of the pants as he zipped up then buttoned it closed.

The way Karina was looking at Antonio made him think of a pissed off bulldog. He smiled at her and spread his arms to the sides. “Ta-da! Look, eh?”

“Antonio, I really have to get back to the room.”

“Run the scene by me,” he told her, scooping up the tie. It was good silk. He held it out to her. “So, it’s a long day…”

Karina continued to glower at him.

“It’s a long day of ordering the deaths of people who owe him money and...?”

“You know, I never liked being screwed,” Karina muttered, snatching the necktie from him. She looped it around his neck and started knotting it. “After a long day of work, you’re in your bedroom. You’re tired. You look like you could sleep for at least a decade. The sun is setting. It’s another day. Then the Runner starts removing his clothes.”

“Hold on.” Antonio stopped her hand. “You saw me struggling to put on that shirt. How am I supposed to take that off on my own?”

“There’s a stand-in. He’ll do the work.” Karina was blushing.

“Of course.” Antonio released her hand and Karina continued with the tie and talking. He angled his neck as she secured the knot then lowered the collar.

“R-right,” she murmured, sounding a little breathless. “So. You’re sitting on the bed…”

She put her hands on his shoulders and urged him down. So, Antonio did. For a second, he entertained the thought of her naked and straddling him. She seemed like the sort to be on top.

She got down on one knee and reached for his right arm. “You’ve removed the jacket. Started loosening the tie. As this happens, the sun continues to set. It’s a fiery sunset, the horizon is orange, like spilled blood and spreading. You continue undressing. You stand up to do your pants. The camera pans on your body, showing the strength of your muscles. You’re a hard man, Runner. Nothing will break you. As you walk to the window, you’re already naked. The sun is at its brightest, like the last gasp before the light dies. You stare at the world outside your window. It’s your world. Yours. Then you raise your arm…and pull it off.”

She rolled up the sleeve of the shirt and again her big warm hand closed around the puckered flesh as if it wasn’t repulsive. Antonio took a breath so deep and sharp his chest and shoulders rose. Again, there was the scent of her shampoo.

“You raise your arm,” she continued, pulling it up. “And stare at it. It’s a tensed moment and the camera zooms close. It’s not pretty,” she added, flushing as she glanced at the scars on his arm. “You look out the window again, into the horizon. You lower your arm. You have come so far. You’ve lost so much. Then you smile, but it’s cold. Nothing will stop you. No loss can stop you. That’s why you’re the Runner.”

They stared at each other quietly moments after she stopped talking. Her eyes shone with the brilliance of raw gemstones. For once she stared at him with softness. Antonio thought it was hope and he felt his stomach twist. No one had looked at him as she was for a long time. He couldn’t remember if anyone had.

His left hand was about to touch a lock of hair fallen over her forehead when someone knocked. Karina got up, putting her stomach right at the level of Antonio’s lips. He caught the clean scent of her soap, as if she had just taken a shower.

“Hey, Kay,” said the auburn-haired woman with the big breasts. “They need you in the room?”

“Alright. I’ll be there.” She turned back to him. The scowl was back. “You’re in Neena’s hands, Antonio. Behave.”

The prosthetic was heavy. Months were sent trying to make it look as real as possible and the creators made note of his inputs. Still, wearing it brought back unpleasant memories.

Karina was hard at work in the bedroom, running and managing the crew. Antonio’s steps faltered as he neared her. Probably sensing his presence, she turned and nodded. A look passed between them then she was clapping her hands and ordering the rest of the crew to get out. Out of the room, out of the house, out of the property. That was unexpected. Antonio had been hoping for some isolation but thought it might be too much. Much as he liked riling her up, he did pull a dick move disappearing just like that.

The crew murmured polite greetings at him, some muttering and trying not to look at the arm dangling from his shoulder. Antonio ignored them, refusing to be affected by sheep.

As soon as the room was empty, Karina turned to him, a hand on her waist. “Right. Antonio. So I shot the scenes I told you about with the stand-in yesterday. Let me show you what you’re going to do.”

It took them half an hour, running through Karina’s direction then practicing it. It made Antonio feel alive, to be working again, and with a director more interested in collaborating than ordering him about. She demonstrated where she wanted him, what he should do. He would follow. It was an awkward dance that gradually acquired rhythm.

Antonio did numerous takes of the scene, not because he couldn’t get the sequence right but because he wanted Karina to have choices when she started editing. She blushed when he told her that, and her dark eyelashes fluttered rapidly, her lower lip trembled.

They turned to Alan for suggestions too. Alan Crabtree stammered less now although he still had a cow-eyed look around Karina. Antonio smirked at that. The boy clearly worshipped the director because his dark eyes never left her face and he nodded eagerly at everything she said.

One of Alan’s suggestions was for Antonio to stand in front of the window, sans the suit jacket. He would unroll the right sleeve and rub his shoulder. He would grimace in pain and then, slowly, he would undo the attachments of the prosthetic, gradually revealing his shoulder.

For Antonio, he found that the scene might suggest horror instead of revealing a man hardened by his choices, seemingly inhuman but actually still in possession of his humanity. Karina subtly told Alan the same thing and the amateur screenwriter weighed her words. Ever diplomatic, she shrugged and said, “It won’t hurt to see it done, though. So, shall we?”

Karina went behind the camera and Antonio did the scene. He strode toward the window, his steps heavy and dragging but his spine still erect, conveying strength despite the need to collapse. He looked at his right arm then the landscape again.

“Cut,” Karina called out.

She took the camera and went out of the house. She would be shooting the following scene from outside.

Antonio got ready and looked up. Sure enough, there was Karina, fixing the camera. She had been doing this all day, doing these shoots from the exterior. She would put on her jacket. This time, she wasn’t wearing it.

It was hard looking troubled when her nipples were at his face. He wanted to thumb the stiff nubs and watch her blush. Will she fall apart from a tender touch or a rough caress?

After shooting for four hours straight, Karina called for a break. She brought Antonio and Alan to his dressing room. There was a set-up of a platter of fresh vegetable sticks, vegan dip, some steamed salmon, fresh fruit scooped into little balls.

The meal was brief. Antonio was eager to get back in front of the camera and Karina behind it. He wanted to shoot the last scene already, the one where he was going to be nude. Karina and Alan left him.

This time, Antonio managed to undress by himself. Of course, he knew how. He smiled, remembering Karina’s outraged expression when he started taking off his pants.

Nude, he picked one of the robes hanging from the rack and tied it closed. His left hand had acquired much dexterity and his shoulder could give some assistance. Done, he left the room.

Karina was taping an X-marks on where he would be walking and standing. She was on her knees as she worked. The loose, gaping neckline of her t-shirt gave Antonio a view of her small breasts.

She got up and nodded at Antonio. He hoped he was able to hide his smile. He was supposed to be miserable and tired in the scene, damn it.

* * *

The camera began to roll. It should be the easiest thing. Antonio had done full frontal scenes before. But this was the first time since the accident.

Seven takes into the scene, with Antonio missing his cues and faltering, Karina pulled him aside. Alan, out of respect, remained out of the earshot.

“What’s wrong?” He was surprised at the gentleness in her tone.

“I don’t know,” he answered, frustrated. “This scene is supposed to be easy. I don’t know why I’m freezing up. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” she told him firmly and shaking her head.

“You’ll get your shot in the next one,” he vowed.

“Antonio, come on. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Are you sure you’re ready? Because—”

His glare silenced her. Her blush was a fiery spread of red from forehead to her chest. He wondered if her breasts would be covered in the blush too.

“Alright. We’ll do it your way,” she told him. “But the minute you’re not—”

“I’m finishing this. I won’t be changing my mind.”

This time she glared at him before turning on her heel.

Antonio disrobed once again, keeping in mind where he should go and how he should be feeling. He went through the motions. As he went to the window for the crucial reveal, he suddenly tripped and pitched forward. His quick reflexes saved him from a broken nose although Karina cried out.

“Are you alright?” She asked, about to approach him. Antonio shook his head.

“I just tripped, that’s all,” he snapped. Immediately, he regretted his sharp tone. “Sorry.”

“Antonio, if you need more time—” she began to say.

“Don’t,” he growled. God. What happened to the woman who believed in him? She should be throwing kisses at me for agreeing to do this thing. He tried to ignore the hurt in her eyes.

“Look, just give a minute here, alright? Give me space,” he demanded.

Karina hurried back behind the camera, a hunch in her shoulders. Antonio swallowed a groan. He didn’t put his robe back on this time—which had Alan looking away. Great. The writer was repulsed. He should have known.

Karina noticed Antonio looking at Alan darkly. She glanced heavenward, murmured a silent prayer then turned back to them.

“Alan, Antonio and I need the room. I’ll call you if I need you.”

Alan was surprised. “But what about changes in the script, Karina? Shouldn’t I be here?”

“That’s why I’ll just call you. Keep your line open, okay?’ Karina patted him on the shoulder. “Alan, don’t worry. You did great today. I hope I’ll get to work with you again.”

Alan looked like he would kiss her giant feet. “I didn’t—thank you, Karina. Thank you.”

Antonio raised his eyebrow as Alan’s fat hands cradled Karina’s.

“Thank you for believing in the story, Karina,” Alan said.

“When it’s from you, you betcha,” She kissed him on the forehead. “I’m proud of you, no matter what, okay, Alan?”

Alan looked relieved. “That means a lot, Karina. And yes, please. I’d love to work with you again. Uh, J-Antonio…” he said, giving him an awkward wave.

“See you around,” Antonio said coolly before Alan left.

As soon as the door closed, he demanded, “What the hell was that?”

“You were uncomfortable and either didn’t know or was too proud to say it,” Karina said, unperturbed by his outburst.

“Don’t presume to know what I think.”

“That’s highly debatable. Whether you actually think.”

“Fuck you.”

“Good. Fuck you too. Gather that, mine that, and give me the scene we both want, Antonio.” Karina said, snapping her fingers at him. “It’s just you and me now. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

Antonio glared at his false arm.

“Antonio, you can do this.” Karina said, softly.

He sighed and nodded.

But in the next take, Antonio was still clearly uncomfortable and missed a lot of the cues. Her patience in shreds, Karina had to scrape her mind for something close to a solution.

Antonio, who was now back in his robe, sat dejectedly on the bed.

“There’s a way to get from you what I know you have,” Karina said, dogged still despite Antonio wanting to call it a day. She paced back and forth until he got dizzy. “I need you to trust me, Antonio. Relax with me. I won’t hurt you.”

Antonio stared at her. “What makes you think I’m not relaxed?”

“You’re missing your cues? You stop mid-stride? Your hands shake? You want an entire list?” Karina demanded.

Antonio waves his hand. “Let’s just get this over and done with.”

“I have a solution.”

“Fine. Let’s hear it.”

But the solution didn’t come from Karina’s lips. It was from her body.

Antonio’s jaw hit the floor as Karina, having turned around so her back was facing him, pulled off her t-shirt. Her back muscles were insane, fleshy but firm. Her shoulders were broad, broader than most men’s and her waist was straight. She turned to Antonio, a warning look in her eyes, but her cheeks reddened. A sweet, beautiful blush.

Oh god, he thought, eyes quickly dropping to her breasts. Yes, they were small as he had thought, but round and plump. Even better, her nipples were dark and puffy. Antonio felt a catch in his throat as Karina proceeded to kick off her boots then start on her jeans.

“We’re going to be equals in this scene, Antonio,” Karina said, kicking off her jeans and standing nude before him. She was lean and muscled, perfect for gracing the pages of an anatomy book. He stared at her pussy, a dark cluster of curls between thick, muscular thighs.

“Don’t you mock me,” she growled.

Antonio was about to make a smart and insulting retort when he felt a tightening at the pit of his stomach. It was a familiar tightening. He knew it so well. Used to.

And now it was announcing itself quite mightily that he was back. His breath was unsteady.

Antonio’s dick hardened at the sight of Karina, dark and ruffled, looking at him with an inscrutable expression. God. Was it really happening?

He watched her legs move as she walked back to the camera. Her ass was a firm, her legs toned and very long. Antonio stared incredulously as Karina got behind the camera as if it was nothing to work nude. Hell. What a body. Unfeminine and no curves but she was clearly strong. Antonio had always liked his women built a certain way. He would not consider having sex with her at all back in the day, but he couldn't stop his body's response now. 

“Let’s do that scene again,” she ordered, oblivious to her actor's torture. “From the beginning.”

Antonio wanted to curse at her but there were more pressing issues. Hot, pressing issues.

"Take off your robe, Antonio." 

"Maybe I shouldn't," he said with a grimace. "You're right, I need time."

Karina shook her head. "Forget it. I offered and you bit my head off. Now, Antonio. The sooner we're done, the better."

Well, fine. "If you insist," he said, mustering the old Antonio Blake bravado as he shrugged off his robe and revealed his proud, massive erection.