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Eden flopped onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow with a groan. She knew she was toeing a dangerous line. The smart thing would be to end it now, before she got hurt. But thethought of never feeling Genevieve's hands on her body again, never hearing her breathy moans or tasting her tongue . . . it was unbearable.
With a resigned sigh, Eden sat up. She'd made her decision. She would take what she could get, even if it meant burying her feelings so deep that they gave her a stomach-ache. Confessing would only complicate things, potentially ending not just the mind-blowing sex, but her career as well. She’d never be able to show her face in a theatre again if she lost this opportunity.
Fingers flying across the screen, Eden typed out a response.I’d strap on a jetpack, but that doesn’t scream “easy to remove” ;)
She hit send before she could second-guess herself, then tossed her phone aside and began rummaging through her closet. If Genevieve wanted “easy to remove,” that's exactly what she'd get.
An hour later, Eden stood outside Genevieve's door, smoothing down the front of her wrap dress. She'd forgone underwear entirely, a fact that sent a thrill of nervous anticipation through her body. Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked.
The door swung open, revealing Genevieve in a silk robe that left little to the imagination. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the temperature rising a few degrees just in their corner of the building.
"That was fast," Genevieve murmured, her eyes roving over Eden's form.
Eden nodded with a coy smile, not trusting herself to say something even remotely clever. Without another word, Genevieve reached out, grasped Eden's wrist, and pulled her inside. The door had barely closed behind them before Genevieve pushed Eden against it, capturing her lips in a hungry kiss.
Eden melted into the embrace, all her doubts and fears evaporating in the heat of Genevieve's touch. She tangled her fingers in Genevieve's hair, pulling her closer as their tongues entwined. Genevieve's hands found the tie of Eden's dress almost immediately, deftly undoing it and pushing the fabric aside.
"No underwear?" Genevieve breathed, breaking the kiss to let her gaze follow the path of her exploring hands. "Naughty girl."
Eden gasped as Genevieve's fingers brushed between her thighs, finding her already slick with arousal. "I aim to please," she managed to say between ragged pants.
Genevieve smirked against Eden's neck. "Oh, you certainly do," she purred, before dropping to her knees.
What followed was a blur of sensation and passion. Eden lost herself in the feel of Genevieve's mouth on her, in the taste of Genevieve's skin, in the sound of their mingled cries of pleasure. For those blissful hours, Eden could pretend that this was more than just sex. That the tenderness in Genevieve's touch meant something deeper.
Later, as they lay tangled in Genevieve's luxurious sheets, Eden found she was wide awake. She propped herself up on one elbow, gazing down at Genevieve's sleeping form. In repose, the fierce director looked softer, more vulnerable. Eden's heart swelled with emotion, her throat thickening as the yearning tried to fight its way out of her chest in the form of an anguished sigh.
She longed to reach out and trace the lines of Genevieve's face, to curl up against her and never leave. But she knew she couldn't. This wasn't that kind of arrangement. Come morning, they would go back to being director and actress, nothing more.
Carefully extricating herself from the bed, she gathered her clothes, dressing quietly in the dim light of the bedroom. With one last, lingering look at Genevieve, she slipped out, makingsure the door locked behind her with a click that was almost deafening in the silence of the late hour.
At rehearsals the next day, Genevieve didn’t comment on Eden’s disappearing act.
The next few weeks passed in a whirlwind of rehearsals and stolen moments. Eden threw herself into her role with renewed vigour, channelling all her conflicted emotions into her portrayal of Beatrice.
Genevieve was relentless in her direction, demanding nothing less than perfection. But there were moments, fleeting and precious, where Eden caught a softness in her eyes, a hint of something more than professional admiration.
The rest of the cast began to take notice of Eden's progress too. She gleefully overheard whispered conversations praising her portrayal of Beatrice. Comments about how Eden seemed to embody the character both on and off stage. Eden basked in the praise, but it was Genevieve's approval that she craved most.
Away from the stage, the women continued their clandestine meetings. Sometimes at Genevieve's flat and sometimes in her office, after everyone else had gone home. Each encounter left Eden both blissfully satiated and desperately hungry for more – and not just for Genevieve’s touch.
As the weeks wore on, Eden found it increasingly difficult to separate her feelings for Genevieve from their professional relationship. Every note of praise sent her heart soaring, every gentle correction felt like a caress. She often caught herself biting her lip while watching Genevieve during rehearsals, mesmerized by the way she commanded the room. If she didn’tget a handle on it soon, her barely smothered longing was sure to become public knowledge.
If it wasn’t already.
Despite her best efforts to keep her emotions in check, Eden felt herself falling deeper and deeper in love with the woman who made her feel like she could fly. She tried to rationalize it, to remind herself that this was just a temporary arrangement, but her heart refused to listen. In quiet moments, she allowed herself to imagine a future where Genevieve returned her feelings, where they could be together openly and without reservation.
But reality always intruded, harsh and unforgiving. There were too many nights where Eden lay in her room, waiting for a text that never came. Days that followed where she wouldn’t be able to tell her secret lover that she’d been hoping to hear from her. That maybe she’d love to go on a real date.
Eden soon felt like her fantasy was getting away from her. Like none of it was on her terms anymore. And the weight of that truth grew heavier with each passing day that she kept her mouth shut.
As opening night drew closer, the pressure intensified. Rehearsals became longer and more gruelling, with Genevieve pushing the entire cast to their limits. Eden welcomed the challenge – and the distraction – gladly pouring all her conflicted emotions into her performance. She used her unspoken love for Genevieve to fuel Beatrice's passion, while her frustration at their situation gave voice to Beatrice's anger at the injustices of her world.
She and Genevieve were working late after the rehearsal one night. The rest of the cast had long since departed, leaving Eden and Genevieve alone in the cavernous theatre. They'd been rehearsing a pivotal monologue, with Genevieve pushing Eden to repeat the lines until she knew them like the back of her hand.
"Again," Genevieve called from her seat in the front row. "I can still sense that you’re thinking about which line comes next. Just relax. You know this. Let yourself be present."
Eden nodded, taking several deep breaths to centre herself before launching into the speech from the top. She was exhausted and wrung out, but Genevieve was right – she knew the lines. She just had to let go. Trust herself.
