was the drink of choice for all the characters and copious amounts were consumed during the action of the play. Brian had decided to liven up rehearsal by replacing the iced tea I always stocked in the decanter with the real deal.
The guys had given me lots of grief about my lousy iced tea. I had been setting up the 'bar' on a couple of saw horses. The 'glasses' were Styrofoam cups and the decanter was a plastic pitcher. With the real bar from Suze's grandmother in place, we had graduated to a nice cut glass decanter and tumblers, also courtesy of Brian who seemed to know his way around a whiskey bottle.
By the time rehearsal broke up, the actors had loosened up and were having a great time with the script. I was glad that that the weekend had dispelled the moodiness caused by Roger's visit to Friday's rehearsal. Now that I knew the cause of all the darkness, I wasn't anxious to see it return.
Brian had an old house right in town, only a couple of blocks from the theater. I left my car in the theater parking lot as did Cole, Tom and Tristan. There wasn't much parking at Brian's and to my disappointment, 'the girls' including Suze and Nicky plus a few other crew members were already at his house getting the food ready.
I have to admit the spread was divine. There was a beautiful ham and little finger rolls from the bakery in town, several different salads, cheeses, little pastries with all sorts of savory fillings and an entire table of luscious looking desserts. It was way more than it seemed a group maybe fifteen people could consume.
Tom and I kind of hung around in the kitchen, nibbling at this and that, listening to the gang carrying on in the living room. I very much wanted to maneuver myself near Tristan, but he seemed content to hang out with the group in the living room. I didn't feel like I quite fit in. I think Tom felt the same.
Suze was quite accomplished on the piano. She was plunking out show tunes while a few of the others belted out the words. Tristan had taken a turn and had everyone in stitches with his excellent rendition of "If I Were a Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof . He threw in a convincing accent and even managed a little dance to go along with it.
I was beginning to feel a little sad and neglected when I noticed over Tom's shoulder that Tristan had started up the narrow spiral stairs at the back of the kitchen. Tristan put a finger to his lips and then crooked it around indicating I should follow him. I waited a few minutes until Tom went out into the living room to get another plate. I quickly ascended the stairs and disappeared before anyone returned to the kitchen.
Brian had converted the attic above his house to a loft. There wasn't much head room in parts and there were lots of huge cushions strewn around. In one corner there was a Jacuzzi tub and in another I saw a huge television screen.
"Welcome to Brian's loft o' porn," Tristan greeted me. He was leaning back against a pile of pillows and patted the carpet beside him, inviting me to sit down. "In this room, there is a library of smut so vast that it would take more than a lifetime to view it all."
"Oh? Really?" What could I say to that?
"He's a collector. Little men often have issues, you know."
"What about big men? Do big men have issues?"
"None worth discussing tonight."
Tristan pulled my face toward his and claimed my mouth with a crushing kiss. There was an element of something dark in the way he took me into his arms. He held me hard against him and breathed into my hair. "It's time now, Raina. I want to fuck you now...here."
"Tristan, I think there are things we need to talk about first."
He pulled me on top of him and roughly positioned me so that I couldn't help but feel his erection against my groin. My traitorous body reacted immediately.
"Raina, there's only one kind of communication I'm interested in tonight. If that's not why you came up here, maybe we should go downstairs for some milk and cookies with the
The guys had given me lots of grief about my lousy iced tea. I had been setting up the 'bar' on a couple of saw horses. The 'glasses' were Styrofoam cups and the decanter was a plastic pitcher. With the real bar from Suze's grandmother in place, we had graduated to a nice cut glass decanter and tumblers, also courtesy of Brian who seemed to know his way around a whiskey bottle.
By the time rehearsal broke up, the actors had loosened up and were having a great time with the script. I was glad that that the weekend had dispelled the moodiness caused by Roger's visit to Friday's rehearsal. Now that I knew the cause of all the darkness, I wasn't anxious to see it return.
Brian had an old house right in town, only a couple of blocks from the theater. I left my car in the theater parking lot as did Cole, Tom and Tristan. There wasn't much parking at Brian's and to my disappointment, 'the girls' including Suze and Nicky plus a few other crew members were already at his house getting the food ready.
I have to admit the spread was divine. There was a beautiful ham and little finger rolls from the bakery in town, several different salads, cheeses, little pastries with all sorts of savory fillings and an entire table of luscious looking desserts. It was way more than it seemed a group maybe fifteen people could consume.
Tom and I kind of hung around in the kitchen, nibbling at this and that, listening to the gang carrying on in the living room. I very much wanted to maneuver myself near Tristan, but he seemed content to hang out with the group in the living room. I didn't feel like I quite fit in. I think Tom felt the same.
Suze was quite accomplished on the piano. She was plunking out show tunes while a few of the others belted out the words. Tristan had taken a turn and had everyone in stitches with his excellent rendition of "If I Were a Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof . He threw in a convincing accent and even managed a little dance to go along with it.
I was beginning to feel a little sad and neglected when I noticed over Tom's shoulder that Tristan had started up the narrow spiral stairs at the back of the kitchen. Tristan put a finger to his lips and then crooked it around indicating I should follow him. I waited a few minutes until Tom went out into the living room to get another plate. I quickly ascended the stairs and disappeared before anyone returned to the kitchen.
Brian had converted the attic above his house to a loft. There wasn't much head room in parts and there were lots of huge cushions strewn around. In one corner there was a Jacuzzi tub and in another I saw a huge television screen.
"Welcome to Brian's loft o' porn," Tristan greeted me. He was leaning back against a pile of pillows and patted the carpet beside him, inviting me to sit down. "In this room, there is a library of smut so vast that it would take more than a lifetime to view it all."
"Oh? Really?" What could I say to that?
"He's a collector. Little men often have issues, you know."
"What about big men? Do big men have issues?"
"None worth discussing tonight."
Tristan pulled my face toward his and claimed my mouth with a crushing kiss. There was an element of something dark in the way he took me into his arms. He held me hard against him and breathed into my hair. "It's time now, Raina. I want to fuck you now...here."
"Tristan, I think there are things we need to talk about first."
He pulled me on top of him and roughly positioned me so that I couldn't help but feel his erection against my groin. My traitorous body reacted immediately.
"Raina, there's only one kind of communication I'm interested in tonight. If that's not why you came up here, maybe we should go downstairs for some milk and cookies with the
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