Bad Romeo (Page 44)

Bad Romeo (Starcrossed #1)(44)
Author: Leisa Rayven

“Oh, because that’s what Juliet would do, right? Not you.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

“Oh, my God would you two just fuck already!” Jack Avery calls from the auditorium.

There’s a huge laugh from the rest of the cast, and Holt and I exchange embarrassed glances.

If only it were that simple, Jack.

Erika urges the cast to quiet down. “Mr. Holt, what Miss Taylor did seemed perfectly acceptable to me. Perhaps you just need to modify your reaction. You’re dead. It shouldn’t matter if she licks your entire mouth and starts on your tonsils. You don’t move. Understand?”

Holt shakes his head and laughs bitterly before turning to glare at me.

My smile couldn’t be smugger if I bought it from Smuggy McSmugster at the Smug Store in Smugville.

He rolls his eyes.

“Now, Miss Taylor,” she says, looking at me, “when you grab the knife to stab yourself, I want you to straddle him.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Holt mutters.

Erika glances at him. “Mr. Holt, when Miss Taylor collapses on you, I don’t want you both looking like you’ve been gunned down in a gang war. You need to die as you’ve lived—like lovers.”

I’m taking in everything she’s saying, but my brain is fixated on two words. Straddle him.

Legs akimbo. Parts pressed against other parts.

Oh, boy.

Holt is rubbing his face and groaning.

Erika smiles at us. I think she enjoys our mutual discomfort.

“Let’s go back to the kiss, and let’s see if we can get through to the end, okay? Can I have the rest of the cast involved in the end of this scene in their places side stage please?”

There’s a bit of shuffling as people take up their positions. Holt is scowling at me.

I give him my most innocent smile.

He looks at me with an intensity that would be scary if I wasn’t enjoying his frustration so much.

“Lie down, lover,” I whisper sexily. “I have some straddling to do.”

He curses under his breath and lies down.

Methinks the gent doth protest too much.

“Okay, here we go. Thank you, Miss Taylor.”

I start the scene again. When I get to the kiss, I purposefully make it as erotic as possible. I can feel Holt breathing heavily as a small sound escapes him.

Uh uh uh. Play dead please, hot corpse.

He exhales and stays still.

Good boy.

There are voices offstage, and I look toward them. Juliet is running out of time.

“Yea, noise?” I say, panic coloring my voice as I look around in desperation. “Then I’ll be brief.”

I spot the knife, and after throwing one knee over his middle, I straddle Holt’s groin as I grab the prop dagger he has strapped to his hip

“O happy dagger,” I say as I pull it from the scabbard and bring it up to my chest, “this is thy sheath.”

I push the collapsible blade into the center of my chest and cry out, face contorting in pain. To the audience, it looks like I’ve just fatally wounded myself.

“There … rust.” I groan and fling the knife onto the floor as I clutch my chest. I fist Holt’s shirt and tenderly kiss my Romeo once more before whispering, “And … let me … die.”

I collapse onto Holt. My face presses into his neck, one hand on his chest, the other in his hair. If someone took a snapshot of us, we’d look like a young couple sleeping in an intimate embrace.

Other characters rush onto the stage and continue the scene, lamenting our deaths and breaking down the series of events that led to them. I can feel Holt tense beneath me, trying to control his breathing. His groin is pressed hard against me, and I feel it getting gradually harder. I try to ignore it. My vagina has other ideas. I try to explain to her she’s dead and therefore has no further need for Romeo’s impressive erection, but she’s finding it difficult to suspend her disbelief.

I slow my breathing and listen to the scene playing out around me. The archaic language and its rhythm has a sedating effect. Soon I’m concentrating on Holt’s heartbeat beneath my ear. It’s hypnotic, so strong and steady. As my muscles soften and my heart rate slows, my body sinks into him, and I have a brief moment of thinking I must be very heavy, before his smell and warmth lulls me into a half daze.

Before I know what’s happening, a hand is shaking my shoulder. I open my eyes to see Jack standing over us with several other cast members behind him.

“Wow. Glad to see you guys so excited by our performances,” he says with a smirk. “Maybe next time you could try not to snore.”

I sit up quickly and look down at Holt. He’s bleary-eyed and confused. His eyes come into focus when he registers me on top of him. I take the hint and climb off, but my muscles are loose and weak.

Jeez, who knew straddling cuts off so much circulation?

Jack grabs me around the waist and helps me upright. There’s laughter as my legs give out again, making me stumble against him.

“Whoa! Steady there, Cassie. You’ve been dead for a while now. You’d better take it easy.”

I steady myself as Holt gets to his feet. He glances at Avery’s arms around me before looking away.

“Mr. Holt, Miss Taylor,” Erika says as she climbs the steps to the stage, “can I assume your final positions were comfortable?”

I step away from Jack and smooth down my hair, trying to distract myself from my rising blush.

“It was okay.”

People laugh under their breath. I’m beyond embarrassed. I’ve kissed Holt in front of these people. Hell, I’ve had fake sex with him. But what I just did? Snuggled him? Melted into him and fallen asleep? That’s more intimate than anything else I’ve done.

We sit on the stage as Erika gives us notes, but generally she seems pleased with our progress. Jack’s sitting next to Holt, whispering and snickering. Holt grabs the front of Jack’s shirt and hisses something in his face. Jack goes pale and shuts up immediately. When Holt releases him, Jack moves away while muttering under his breath. Holt runs his hand through his hair before glancing over at me.

He looks furious.

When Erika calls an end to rehearsal, conversations fill the air as everyone packs up the stage and props. Miranda and Aiyah invite me to go to dinner with them, but I’m not in the mood. I thank them for the offer and hug them good-bye. The rest of the theater slowly empties as I pick up the dagger and take it over to Holt. He still looks angry as he takes it from me.