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Nadia was beautiful. She was talented. And while our two characters fell in love on stage, it was impossible for me to not start falling in love with her all over again.
We sang a semi-duet together, and then Dorian and Nadia had a song and scene about going into debt and struggling with their finances while Dorian’s character pursued his musical career. After that came the titular song, The Proposition, where Jane sang about wishing there were a solution to their problems. At the same time I sang about wishing there were a way to be with Jane, how she was forbidden but sweet and all that I could think about.
Nadia was doing fantastic. Much better than Tatiana. But I could tell I was a distraction for her. She was just a little bit off, with something like worry or anxiety hidden in her eyes where only her other cast members could see.
Then came the scene we had first practiced together, all those weeks ago when Nadia had replaced Tatiana for the beginning of rehearsal.
“Well?” I asked her in a deep voice. The set had changed to Hector’s living room, and I was shirtless. Jane had come over unexpectedly to thank me for the help with the stalking bill collector, and had caught me getting out of the shower. “What do you think about my… offer?”
“I don’t know,” she said slowly. A pout touched her full lips. “It’s a lot to consider…”
“What’s there to think about?” I took a step toward her, rounding my shoulders to make my muscles flex. Hector was a god of muscle, glistening from the oil the stage hand had applied backstage. The personification of temptation and lust. “My offer’s simple. I pay you $10,000 a week to be mine. To do whatever I say in the bedroom.”
Nadia turned away from me to show her internal conflict to the audience. I stepped up behind her, closing the distance between us. When she turned around she flinched at how close I was. She practically trembled.
“I need time to consider…”
“It’s the money you desperately need.” I took her in my arms. “No one has to know. It will be our little secret.”
I guided her back, driving her before my chiseled body, until we reached the edge of the prop bed. Her knees folded and she sat down in front of me. I wedged my knee between hers, and she obediently spread her legs for me. That wonderful physical signal that a woman wanted you as much as you wanted them.
My memory flashed; the scene reminded me of our night in the subway tunnel, sitting her down on a table and spreading her legs. I felt my body flush with the memory of her slick pussy accepting my cock, and then driving it deeper inside of her while we moaned in the dusty darkness. The way she was looking up at me right now, with her eyes big and beautiful…
But this was just a scene in a play. It wasn’t real, even if it felt like it.
I pressed myself in between her legs, falling forward until I covered her with my body. Heat radiated from her loins, impossible to ignore.
It’s just a scene. This isn’t real.
“I know you’ve been fantasizing about me,” I boomed. Words for the audience, not her. “I can see it in your eyes. You want this as much as I do.”
She nodded slightly.
I gave a start. The nod wasn’t part of the stage direction. Her character was still apprehensive about all of this. Was she ad-libbing the nod on the spot? Or was that a private message for me?
Does she want me?
“Tell me,” I demanded, falling back into the lines of the show. “Tell me it’s what you want.”
I pressed harder against her body. My hard-on was unavoidable within my jeans, resting against her thigh. But I wasn’t embarrassed as she stared up at me. I wanted her to know.
She raised one leg, the leg facing the audience, and curled it around my waist. Pulling me closer.
“Yes,” she declared, a hand running through my hair. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
And then we kissed.
It wasn’t just the dramatic kiss of two actors putting on a show for the audience. It was a true kiss between two people who were once, and future, lovers. She gave me a little bit of tongue as the orchestra music played a tragic note, one that was powerful with passion but hinted at the troubles that would come for our two characters.
I didn’t want to stop kissing her. I wanted the scene to go on forever. But that wasn’t for me to decide.
The stage went dark, and stage hands came rushing out to switch out the props and set for the next scene. Nadia grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze before rushing off-stage to change into her next wardrobe.
I wanted to follow her, to tell her how I really felt, but my stage directions had me exiting on the other side. I jogged off as the audience applause dimmed, disappearing behind the curtain just as the lights came back up in the next scene—which featured Dorian’s character and his agent.
I need to talk to Nadia as soon as possible, I thought as the stage hand gave me the shirt for my next scene.
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