The Producer, page 23
We park in front of the house, and I am amazed to see that every light inside is turned off. Usually, there is always some light that turns on automatically when it starts to get dark. Aaron puts his hand on my back and invites me in after opening the door. I don’t have time to reach for the light switch when a chorus of voices shout “Surprise,” and the lights turn on in the living room, leaving me stunned in front of about twenty smiling people, most of who are my colleagues and people who work with me on the set and with whom I am in contact with during the day. There are several technicians, some extras, and even Sarah, the girl who has been doing my makeup for three years.
Emma, who is in the front row, runs toward me with a smile from ear to ear and holds me in an embrace. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you… but…” I don’t even have the words to describe the surprise that overwhelms me right now.
“When Aaron asked us if we wanted to attend your birthday party, we were blown away because we didn’t even know it was your birthday!” Emma scolds me good-naturedly, putting her hands on my shoulders and forcing me to look at her again.
I turn to Aaron, who stands one step behind me smirking. He arranged all this for me, and I almost can’t contain the heart pumping crazily in my chest.
“Is that why you kept me out of the house all day? To organize such a thing?”
“No, I did that because I wanted to have you just to myself before tonight. I wanted this birthday to be special.” He kisses the tip of my nose.
“Enough the two of you! You are so sweet that you make me want to find a guy!” Emma scolds us, laughing before leaving and chatting with the people who crowd the living room and move to the pool where catering has been set up.
I turn to Aaron and smile at him, raising an eyebrow. “Did you force the people in the production to have a surprise party for my birthday?”
He watches me frowning, resting his hand on my cheek and gently stroking my skin. He is so handsome even when he worries about me. Especially when he does, when his eyes suck me into his world and never let me go.
“I didn’t force anyone. When I asked Emma, she was thrilled, and when the word spread, the others joined in. Do you think I can force people to do something like this?”
“Really?”
He smiles at me with tenderness. “Dakota, the people around you are genuinely interested in you. You always focused on Serena, thinking she was your best friend, the only friend you had, but the truth is that many people take pleasure in being in your company.”
I blush because I have always felt like a fish out of water in this industry, and when we walk out by the pool, I realize that people greet me and wish me well, despite being off set. They are genuinely happy to be here and come up to talk to me.
Andrew, one of the camera operators who has been working on the show since the beginning, brings me a plate with the salmon canapés that are on some tables set up on one side of the pool. “Here, for you. I saw that you always take a double portion when there is salmon at lunch. I thought I’d bring some to you before they are gone.” He smiles at me, and I realize it’s the first time we’ve spoken without being part of a conversation in which Emma is also present.
“I love salmon. I didn’t think anyone had noticed this passion of mine,” I answer, embarrassed.
I feel Aaron’s hand resting on my back, a comforting gesture that calms me from the anxiety slowly rising to my stomach. It is a presence that helps me not to fall into the spiral of catastrophic thoughts during this conversation.
“Rita, the girl who runs the catering for the production, is a friend of mine. She knows the tastes of more or less everyone who eats regularly on set because she has to manage the grocery shopping. She told me when I asked her for the recipe, and since that day, I have noticed that you always take two portions,” he admits.
“I love how she cooks it! Did she really give you the recipe?”
“Seriously. It’s super simple but has a secret ingredient that makes it special.”
“Really? You have to tell me, you can’t keep me on my toes like this,” I laugh at his smug smile.
I realize for the first time I’m having a normal conversation with another person at a party without Serena making me feel inadequate or laughing at my attempts. The weight that lifts from my stomach almost makes me breathe better.
“Okay, on Monday I’ll bring the recipe and explain it to you, so you can prepare it whenever you want.”
“No, you can’t leave me like that without telling me the secret ingredient,” I exclaim, making him laugh.
I’m making him laugh. I, the most inadequate person to have a conversation with at a party, am making a guy laugh. The sense of gratification and victory that expands in my stomach is almost incredible. Next to me, Aaron watches the conversation as if I were the center of his world, and my head begins to spin because of the euphoria and not because alcohol is involved.
“Dill,” Andrew whispers to me, amused.
“I don’t believe it!”
“I swear.”
“Wait, in this recipe, there is nothing to simmer with alcohol that could set the house on fire, right? I wouldn’t want to repeat that experience.” I glance at Aaron, who smiles amusedly.
“Did she set your house on fire?” Emma questions Aaron after she joins our conversation.
“The situation was not so serious. She just set off the alarm and blackened the furniture above the stove,” he tries to downplay.
Andrew and Emma listen to us open-mouthed.
“Don’t forget the vegetables on the floor. Those were also part of that dinner.” I laugh and then launch into an explanation of what happened.
No alcohol to help me relax, just my voice, Aaron’s comforting presence, and a story that keeps them entertained. I’ve never been so comfortable as this night by the pool.
One of the waiters approaches and offers me a glass of champagne, but I decline.
“If you want to drink it, it’s okay. It’s your birthday. Nothing will happen if you drink a glass to celebrate, I’m here to stop you if the situation gets out of hand,” Aaron reassures me, whispering in my ear.
I look up and smile at him. “In all honesty, I don’t feel the need. I’ve never done it because I like it, but because it gives me courage when I’m among other people. But if you’re here with me, I feel less insecure.”
Aaron lowers himself and kisses me gently. “I’m proud of you, you know?” he says before taking me by the hand and dragging me to a table where a cake with twenty-four lit candles is waiting for me.
I blow on them, among the applause of those present, and for the first time since I can remember, I don’t really know what wish to make because at this moment I feel I have everything I want from life. Perhaps this happiness never ends. Maybe that’s the only thing I really want right now.
***
When the last guest finally leaves, Aaron and I find ourselves in the kitchen putting dirty dishes in the sink and leftovers in the fridge. It takes us a while to finish, but it is pleasant to do it in silence next to him. When the last dish is stored in the dishwasher, I sit at the counter and bite into a forkful of the delicious cake Aaron brought in from one of the best pastry shops in town.
I inhale deeply and enjoy this moment, still incredulous at how much things have changed in these five months and how much they are still about to change. I didn’t talk about it with Aaron today so as not to spoil the atmosphere, but in one month, we will have to deal with this accommodation which, according to the press office, is temporary. A thought I tried to stifle all day, but never completely disappeared.
When he gets closer, he gives me a small box that, for a moment, makes my heart skip a beat. The logo of a famous jewelry store makes me go into fibrillation.
“Open it. It’s your gift.”
“But wasn’t the dress my gift?”
“Those were to keep you busy while the caterers set up the pool.” He winks at me.
I grab the box and remove the paper. Inside, a small velvet box makes me widen my eyes. “It’s not a ring, is it?”
He chuckles, amused. “Open it”
My trembling fingers struggle to open the box, but a smile appears on my lips when I do. Inside is a keychain with a small dragonfly with diamonds covering its body and a padlock with a heart-shaped keyhole. It is so beautiful and elegant that I barely touch it for fear of ruining it. I look up at Aaron, who is watching me carefully.
“Thank you, it’s beautiful,” I whisper as I stroke his face with one hand.
“I know our agreement ends in one month, and you are free to find yourself a new apartment if you like. But I would like you to consider staying here and putting your copy of the keys permanently on that keychain.” He seems almost nervous as he speaks, a reaction that is difficult to associate with someone like him.
“Are you asking me to move in with you?” I ask.
“It’s not been that bad in the last five months, has it?” he asks, perhaps worried that my answer is no.
“It was perfect, and I would love to stay,” I answer, standing on tiptoe and kissing him as if my life depended on this kiss.
He squeezes me in a hug, then, with a sudden gesture, takes me in his arms, making me squeak in surprise.
“Aaron!” I laugh as he walks through the living room and climbs the stairs. “Have you gone crazy?”
“Now I can finally give you your birthday present.” His smile is a call to the lust that makes me melt to the tips of my toes. “It’s been all day that I dreamed of worshiping your perfect body and making you come until you beg me to stop.”
“What if I’m never tired of coming?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Is that a challenge?” he asks while, with a kick, he opens the door of the master bedroom and throws me on the bed, making me laugh.
“Are you able to keep up? Because you know, given your age…” I tease, enjoying as his gaze catches fire.
“Take off your clothes,” he orders in a firm tone, and my whole body reacts to his voice.
It’s incredible how his commanding tone alone can ignite every single cell and send shivers of pleasure down my body. I never thought such a thing could turn me on, I always felt uncomfortable in front of people who imposed their will on me, but this is different. The way Aaron worships my body and brain makes me trust him, turning this moment into something exciting.
I grab the zipper on the side of my dress and slide it slowly off while I enjoy Aaron’s gaze following my every little movement. It almost makes me breathless to see him lose control over his body, with his erection waking up and straining against his pants. I drop the dress at the foot of the bed and enjoy his eyes burning for me.
“Naked.” His tone is so low that it sounds more like a growl than an order, and as I take off my bra, I surrender to his will.
Aaron knows what I like, he guides me to discover my pleasure, and I let myself be carried away by his voice, his gaze, and the anticipation of feeling his hands on my body. When I pull off my panties, I don’t feel naked or vulnerable but the most beautiful woman that ever walked on earth. Aaron is the one who makes me feel this way, who makes me love every part of myself as if it were perfect. Even my battered feet or my ears sticking out a bit or my slightly cracked teeth in the front seem unique and inimitable to his eyes.
I watch him slowly undress as he lets me admire his sculpted body and worship his erection. That dark trail of hair that descends from his navel to the base of his cock is a path I have walked many times with my imagination but to which I have never done justice. Reality is more perfect than I can imagine.
I look at him as he slowly crawls onto the bed, lies on top of it, and looks at me with a half-smile on his lips.
“Sit on my face,” he orders, and I freeze, watching him as if he had told me to get out of this room dancing the tango.
“What?” I whisper uncertainly, sure I didn’t understand correctly what he said.
His smile widens, and he reaches out his hand, grabbing mine.
“Put your hands against the wall, straddle my head, and sit on my face,” he repeats.
I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I’ve experienced so many first times with Aaron, but this is something that makes me shy.
“I’ll guide you,” he whispers with a sweet look when he sees me hesitating.
I do as he tells me, and I bite my lip with shame because of the intimate and exposed position. Can there be something too intimate in the requests of a man in the bedroom?
“You are perfect,” he whispers, and a shiver runs down my spine.
“Eyes on me,” he orders, and when I look down, I see all his lust as he grabs my hips and drags me toward his mouth, taking me by surprise.
“When I tell you to sit on my face, I mean sit on my face,” he orders before sinking into me with his tongue.
My whole world turns upside down when, with the same vigor as a hungry man, he devours my innermost part, licking, sucking, biting. His eyes never leave mine as he sticks his tongue deep into my folds, alternating small bites on the bundle of nerves at the apex of my opening that sends shocks of pleasure down my spine.
I watch him the entire time while his hands anchor my hips and guide my movements, seeking my pleasure riding his face, and I don’t miss for a moment the satisfied smile in his eyes as he sucks until I explode in an orgasm that makes my legs tremble.
With one hand, he grabs my hair behind the nape of my neck and drags me to him for a kiss that takes away what little breath I have left. I savor myself on his lips, on his tongue, in a dirty, greedy kiss, full of a desire that has not dissipated with my orgasm.
I move far enough back to observe his perfect body lying next to me, his tan, those sculpted abs that descend to the taut erection, and the small drop of pre-cum inviting me to dive with my lips on his cock. I slip between his legs and watch him hold his breath while I savor with my tongue that salty drop, and I envelop his warm erection with my lips.
“Dakota.” My name escapes from his lips in a moan while his hand sinks into my hair and guides me as I slide him down my throat.
It’s a feeling I’ve never felt before, the one of having a man in the palm of my hand. I watch him close his eyes and bite his lips. He is tense and holding back, thrusting his hips with powerful blows I’m familiar with.
Deciding to reciprocate my orgasm with the same fervor, I grasp with one hand the base of his erection and squeeze, accompanying the movement of my lips with those of my hand. The roar that comes out of his lips is animalistic. I’m soaked between my legs when he lays his eyes on mine, and I read the desire to take me and make me his own. I squeeze my lips to his flesh and savor its length from the base to the tip with my tongue. I suck, lick, and taste the silky warm skin while, with the other hand, I slip between his legs, gently squeezing his testicles until he groans.
I never take my gaze away from his while he pulls my hair slightly, silently telling me to move away because he is about to come. But I don’t want to, so I stretch my lips and sink his cock deeper into my throat, sucking vigorously until I feel him coming with a growl piercing his chest.
I swallow as waves of his pleasure invade my mouth, but some of it drips down my chin. It’s a dirty orgasm loaded with a pleasure that is almost animalistic. Aaron drags me to him for a frantic kiss as soon as my lips leave his erection, his tongue invading my mouth, the taste of our pleasures mixes, sending a shiver down my spine. His hand slips between my legs, and when two of his fingers make their way inside me, they find no obstacle to stop them. I’m so wet that Aaron slips up to his knuckles, and when he starts fucking me with his hand, he swallows the moan that comes out of my lips.
I ride his hand, chasing a second orgasm that comes as soon as his fingers bend, touching that sensitive part of me that no other man has ever been able to find. I thought it was an urban legend, that that famous G-spot didn’t really exist, but Aaron proved to me several times that I was wrong and that he memorized my body to the point that he could find it on the first try.
I reach the peak of my pleasure and arch my back while Aaron puts a hand around my waist to prevent me from falling back. His lips on my hardened nipples amplifies the pleasure that explodes from my lower abdomen and expands under my skin to every part of my body.
Aaron kisses me before he slips his fingers out and leaves me empty, but I know it won’t be for long. I see him reaching out toward the bedside table, grabbing a condom from the first drawer, and sliding it on the erection that has awakened again. With a decisive gesture, he makes me turn, hands and knees resting on the mattress while he sinks into me from behind, filling me up until I catch my breath.
His thrusts are powerful, his fingers sink into my hips, and the dirty noise of our sweaty skins colliding is the only sound in the room. It’s such an overwhelming feeling that another orgasm starts to mount. I chase it, pushing my hips against his but never being able to reach it. A frustrated sigh escapes my lips when Aaron grabs my hair and lures me against his chest.
“Come for me, Dakota.” he orders, sliding one hand around my neck, squeezing slightly, while the other rests on my clit, playing with it while he fucks me with firm blows until I reach that pleasure that escaped me.
His thrusts get faster, like my breathing, and when my third orgasm explodes, I feel him throbbing inside me, coming with a roar that is lost when he bites my shoulder. The silence that follows is broken only by our labored breaths.
We slump onto the bed and I snuggle up on his chest as he strokes my hair. I have never felt as much pleasure as tonight.
“Happy birthday to me,” I whisper and feel his chest shake with a low laugh.
He squeezes me even closer to him while he grabs the sheets with one hand and wraps us in a cocoon that tastes of stability and home. Before I fall asleep, exhausted after this day, I realize that the wish I made blowing out the candles has just come true.
