I've always been fascinated by people who lead double lives. Plenty of people who write erotic or romantic fiction do this through the use of a pseudonym and keeping certain people in their lives in the dark about what they do.
That idea was part of the inspiration for this story, about a guy who discovers his new co-worker isn't all that he seems. Secrets can make for interesting lives, but they can also make things complicated. Just like in my story, Against Type.
"I need a break."
Adrian threw down his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. We'd been at it for hours, and while we were making progress, things were starting to get tedious. And, we were starting to piss each other off. We'd started off so well that first night we wrote together, but as the days and weeks passed, each writing session was getting more and more heated. In the beginning it was like we were trying to be on our best behavior, but the more we worked together, the more we fell into our old habits. Which, clearly brought out the worst in each other.
Tensions were rising and neither of us was doing a thing to stop them. In fact, we seemed hell bent on making everything worse. Each recent meeting had ended with an argument and me leaving with a slam of the door. We were still only half way through the script and things had dragged to a standstill. At this rate, we'd kill each other before we ever got a chance to finish the stupid story.
"Fine. Let's take a break. It's not like we're on deadline or anything."
"Jesus, Fletch, I know we're on a tight schedule. There's no need to bring it up every five minutes."
"Sorry. Forgive me for trying to keep us on task."
"Oh, please. This has nothing to do with the script. You're just being a dick."
"That's rich coming from you."
He got up from the couch and started pacing, like he'd done a few times before when we started to argue. For whatever reason, I wasn't in the mood to back down, so I decided to push harder.
"You know, Adrian, this would all be a lot easier if you'd listen to me every now and then. Stop being so stubborn and actually admit that this goes a lot smoother when you listen to me."
He stalked towards me, his face twisted into a scowl.
"Is that so? Well, maybe if you weren't always pointing out how stupid this is and how much this sucks, it would be a lot easier to take you seriously."
"This doesn't have anything to do with that. You're mad because I'm here at all. Because you fucked up and this is the only way you can get out of it."
I saw his fist ball and I took a step back. He followed me and much like in his office, I found myself against the wall with Adrian hulking over me.
"Let's get something straight. I'm trying to make the best of a bad situation and get this movie script finished. You're the one who seems more interested in fucking with me than finishing what we started."
I didn't let him intimidate me and I leaned forward, getting into his face.
"That's so not true. You're the one still treating me like I'm some idiot who doesn't deserve to contribute to this little masterpiece."
He shook his head and I could see the flush rising on his face.
"God, you're such a self-righteous little bastard, Fletch. You're always accusing me of acting above everything. Now who's too good for everything?"
"Whatever you say, Adrian. But, you're still an arrogant, self-important has-been."
He stepped away from me, although it did little to calm me down. He threw his hands up and shouted.
"Jesus Christ! How many times are we going to have the same fucking argument?"
"Until you realize you're wrong."
"Or until you realize what an asshole you are."
He was back in my space at this point, both of us breathing heavy. I don't know why I kept goading him, but it was like I couldn't stop.
"Maybe I should go back to the original plan and tell everyone the truth. End this whole thing."
"Fuck, I wish you would shut up, Fletch."
"Why don't you make me?"
He slammed a hand against the wall above me and I jumped. When he grabbed a handful of my shirt and yanked me towards him, panic overtook me. Both of my hands wrapped around his wrist in an attempt to wrench free, but it didn't work. His face was inches from mine, his voice a strained whisper.
"Fine. Let's see if this shuts you up."
I closed my eyes, expecting a punch, but instead I got his lips on mine and his firm hand around my neck. I let go of his wrists and put my hands to his shoulders with the thought of pushing him away, but I didn't. When his tongue slipped into my mouth, I slid my hands around his back and held on tight. The kiss went on for a long time and when we finally pulled apart, Adrian had gotten his wish. I was unable to speak. We stared at each other for a while, our hands still on each other.
"Wow, if I'd known that would work so well, I would have done it a long time ago," he said, cracking a smile for the first time in weeks.
I pushed him away and tried to get some distance, without much success. He pulled me back to him, kissing me roughly. This time, I shoved him harder, but he barely budged.
"Is that the best you can do, Fletch? I know you've been dreaming about hitting me for weeks."
"I'm not going to hit you, Adrian."
He smirked and kissed me again, daring me to make him stop. It took all my strength to move him, buying myself a few feet of breathing room.
He didn't waste any time coming towards me again, his arms around me before I could react. Our mouths met and I felt my feet shuffling along the floor as he dragged me towards the bedroom. This time, it was Adrian who shoved me and I landed in a heap on his king-sized mattress. I moved to scramble off the bed, but he moved over me before I had the chance, pinning my hands down, his knees on either side of my thighs. I struggled under his iron grip, which only seemed to make him stronger. When he pressed the length of his body against mine, I could no longer move, not that I really wanted to. My mind was at war and right now my anger was a distant second to lust.
"Give up, Fletch?"
"Too bad. If you would just admit you're wrong, we could move on and have some fun."
"Why don't you admit you're wrong?"
I squirmed under him, but to no avail.
"I don't think you're in any position to negotiate right now."
"Well, if you're waiting for an apology, it's going to be awhile."
"I've got time."
He smirked before he kissed me, pulling back before I wanted him to.
"Now, that's an idea."
Against Type by Heidi Champa is now available at Amber Allure.
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