9. Genevieve

9

GENEVIEVE

S he stood at the back of the rehearsal room, her keen eyes fixed on Eden as the young actress moved through the scene. There had been a palpable shift in Eden's demeanour, a newfound assurance that radiated from her every movement. Gone was the hesitant, eager-to-please ingénue of their early rehearsals. In her place stood a woman who commanded attention, who wielded Beatrice's wit like a finely honed blade.

As Eden delivered a particularly scathing line, her eyes flashing with righteous indignation, Genevieve felt a familiar thrill course through her. This was what she had seen in that first audition, the raw potential that had captivated her from the start. But now, that potential was blossoming into something truly remarkable.

"Excellent," Genevieve called out as the scene drew to a close. "That's exactly the fire I've been looking for, Eden. Keep that energy for the next run-through."

Eden beamed at the praise, her cheeks flushed with exertion and pride. Genevieve found her gaze lingering on the younger woman, tracing the curve of her smile, the sweep of her hair as she tucked it behind her ear. She quickly averted her eyes, focusing on her notes as the rest of the cast reset for another run.

Later, ensconced in the relative privacy of her office, Genevieve allowed herself to fully contemplate the shift in Eden's performance. It was undeniable that the young actress had found a new level of connection with her character. The question that gnawed at Genevieve was whether their hurried office tryst had played a role in this transformation.

The thought both thrilled and terrified her. On one hand, if their connection was truly enhancing Eden's performance, wouldn’t that be a positive outcome? But on the other hand, Genevieve knew all too well how quickly things could spiral out of control in the pressure-cooker environment of theatre.

She sank into her chair, rubbing her temples as she tried to sort through the tangle of emotions warring within her. Pride in Eden's growth as an actress. Desire for her, which seemed to grow more intense with each passing day. And underlying it all, a creeping fear that she was losing her grip on the careful control she'd maintained throughout her career.

Genevieve reached for her phone, scrolling through her contacts before landing on a familiar name. Marcia Stevenson. If anyone could offer a clear-eyed perspective on this situation, it would be her old friend. She fired off a quick text, suggesting dinner that evening.

The response came almost immediately: "About time! Thought you'd forgotten about me. Eight p.m. at Vertigo?"

Genevieve smiled despite herself. Trust Marcia to cut straight to the chase. She confirmed the plans and set her phone aside, turning her attention back to the mountain of work that always seemed to reaccumulate on her desk. But even as Genevieve lost herself in the minutiae of production details, part of her thought about the tentative confessions she’d have to unravel with her no-nonsense pal over dinner.

The restaurant was bustling when Genevieve arrived, the low hum of conversation punctuated by the clink of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter. She spotted Marcia immediately, her friend's striking dark silver hair and impeccable style making her stand out even in the crowd of well-dressed diners.

"Darling," Marcia greeted her, rising to air-kiss Genevieve's cheeks. "It's been far too long. I was beginning to think you'd fallen into another black hole of theatrical obsession."

Genevieve chuckled as she took her seat. "You know me too well. How have you been, Marcia? Still ruling the PR world with an iron fist?"

"Naturally," Marcia replied with a wink, brushing her silken tresses over her shoulder. "Someone has to keep all those wayward celebrities in line. But enough about me. I want to hear what's been going on in your world. How's the new production coming along?"

As they settled into their usual rhythm of conversation, Genevieve felt some of the tension she'd been carrying begin to ease. This was familiar territory - trading stories about work, catching up on mutual acquaintances, and debating the latest industry gossip. But even as they chatted, Genevieve could feel the weight of her unspoken confession pressing down on her.

Finally, as they were finishing their main course, Marcia fixed Genevieve with a knowing look. " All right, come out with it already. You didn't invite me out just for a catch-up. What's really on your mind?"

Genevieve took a deep breath, steeling herself. "I've . . . gotten myself into a bit of a situation," she began hesitantly. "With one of my actors."

Marcia's eyebrows shot up, but she remained silent, waiting for Genevieve to continue.

"Her name is Eden," Genevieve went on, her voice low. "She's playing Beatrice in the new production. And she's . . . God, Marcia, she's incredible. Talented, passionate, beautiful. We've been . . . intimate."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Marcia took a slow sip of her wine, her expression thoughtful.

"I see," she said finally. "And I'm guessing this isn't just a casual fling?"

Genevieve shook her head, feeling a rush of relief at finally voicing her predicament. "I told her it was but . . . no, it's not. At least, not for me. This isn’t me. I can't stop thinking about her. I'm noticing every little improvement in her performance, wondering if it's because of our . . . connection."

Marcia leaned back in her chair, regarding Genevieve with a mix of concern and amusement. "Well, well. The great Genevieve Howard, brought low by a pretty face and a bit of talent. I never thought I'd see the day."

"It's not funny, Marcia," Genevieve snapped, though there was no real heat in her words. "I don't know what to do. I know it's unprofessional, and I know it could blow up in my face. But I can't seem to stop myself."

" All right, All right," Marcia said, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. "Let's look at this logically. From a PR standpoint, you're right to be concerned. If word got out that you were sleeping with your lead actress, it could seriously damage both of your reputations. Not to mention the potential impact it could have on the production itself."

Genevieve nodded, having expected as much. But Marcia wasn't finished.

"However," she continued, her tone softening, "as your friend, I have to say . . . it's about damn time you allowed yourself some happiness, Gen. You've been living like a monk for years, throwing yourself into your work at the expense of everything else. Maybe this thing, complicated as it might be, is exactly what you need."

Genevieve blinked, taken aback by Marcia's frank response. "You can't be serious. You, of all people, encouraging me to pursue a potentially career-ruining affair?"

Marcia laughed, rich and warm. "Oh, don't look so shocked. I may be a hardass when it comes to work, but even I know the value of a little fun now and then. Besides, you're both consenting adults. As long as you're discreet and it doesn't impact the show, where's the harm?"

"That's a big ‘if,’" Genevieve muttered, though she could feel a spark of hope kindling in her chest.

"True," Marcia conceded. "But then again, when have you ever shied away from a challenge? Just be careful, Gen. And for God's sake, try to enjoy yourself a little. You've earned it."

As they finished their meal, the conversation drifted to lighter topics, but Genevieve's mind kept returning to Marcia's words. Perhaps her friend was right. Perhaps it was time to allow herself a bit of joy, even if it came with risks.

Back in her apartment that night, Genevieve found herself pacing restlessly. The idea of pursuing something with Eden, of allowing herself that vulnerability, both exhilarated and terrified her. She paused by the window, gazing out at the twinkling lights of the city below.

For so long, she had defined herself solely through her work. Every decision, every relationship, every moment of her life had been filtered through the lens of her career. But now, with Eden, she felt a spark of something different. Something that made her want to reach beyond the familiar confines of her ambition.

Genevieve took a deep breath and reached a decision. She could do this. She could explore this connection with Eden, as long as it didn't compromise their work. After all, wasn't that what great art was about? Taking risks, pushing boundaries, and exploring the depths of human experience?

With a newfound sense of resolve, Genevieve turned away from the window. Tomorrow's rehearsal would be a test, a chance to see if she could truly balance her growing feelings for Eden with the demands of the production.

The next morning, Genevieve arrived at the theatre early as usual, her nerves humming with anticipation. As the cast began to filter in, she watched Eden closely, searching for any sign that she was growing distracted, regretful, or even uncomfortable.

But as they dove into the day's work, Genevieve's concerns began to fade. If anything, Eden seemed more focused, more in tune with her character than ever before. She moved through the scenes with a grace and intensity that left Genevieve breathless.

During a particularly charged moment between Beatrice and Benedick, Eden delivered her lines with such raw emotion that the entire room fell silent. Genevieve felt a surge of pride mixed with deep, aching desire. This was everything she had hoped for when she’d cast Eden, and more.

As the rehearsal drew to a close, Genevieve made an impulsive decision. "Excellent work today, everyone," she called out. "Especially you, Eden. I'd like to discuss some notes with you. Would you stay behind for a moment?"

Eden nodded, the merest hint of a co-conspiratorial smirk flickering across her face. As the rest of the cast filed out, Genevieve approached her, suddenly feeling as nervous as a schoolgirl with a crush.

"That was truly remarkable work today," Genevieve began, keeping her voice low. "You've made incredible progress with the character."

Eden beamed at the praise. "Thank you. I feel like I'm finally starting to understand Beatrice on a deeper level."

Genevieve nodded, steeling herself for what she was about to say next. "I was wondering if you might like to discuss the upcoming scenes in a more . . . private setting. Perhaps over dinner at my place?"

The invitation dangled in the air between them, laden with unspoken promises. For a moment, Genevieve feared she had overstepped, and that the delicate balance they had struck would come crashing down around them.

But then Eden smiled. A slow, radiant smile that sent Genevieve’s heart racing. "I'd love to," she said softly.

"Wonderful," Genevieve replied, trying to keep her voice steady despite the rush of excitement coursing through her. "Shall we say eight o'clock?"

Eden nodded, her eyes sparkling. "I'll be there."

Back at home, Genevieve found herself fussing over details she normally wouldn't have given a second thought to. She rearranged the throw pillows on her sofa three times before forcing herself to stop. This wasn't like her, this nervous energy and this desire to impress.

She had just finished lighting a few candles ( was that too much? too romantic? ) when the intercom buzzed. Immediately Genevieve’s heart leapt into her throat.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Genevieve pressed the button to let her in. As she waited for Eden to make her way up, she found herself smoothing down her hair and checking her reflection in the hallway mirror.

"Get a grip," she muttered to herself. "You're supposed to be convincing her you’re in control."

But all her self-admonishments flew out the window the moment Genevieve opened the door. Eden stood there, looking breathtakingly beautiful in a simple shirtdress, her golden hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders.

"Hi," Eden said, a shy smile playing at her lips. "I hope I'm not too early."

Genevieve shook her head, stepping back to let her in. "Not at all. You're right on time."

As Eden crossed the threshold, Genevieve felt as if something monumental had shifted. This wasn't just about their physical attraction anymore, or even about the play. By inviting Eden into her home, she was opening up a part of herself she had kept walled off for years.

"Your place is beautiful," Eden commented, glancing around with undisguised curiosity. "It's so . . . you."

Genevieve chuckled, some of her nervousness dissipating. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

Eden turned to her, her expression soft and open. "Definitely a compliment. It's elegant . . . sophisticated.” Her eyes darted again over the sparse furniture in the open-plan space, the abstract art on the walls. “ . . . but with these little touches of warmth. Like you."

The words sent a flutter through Genevieve's stomach. She cleared her throat, suddenly feeling out of her depth. "Would you like a glass of wine?" she asked, grasping for the familiar routine of playing hostess, though she hadn’t done it in years.

Eden nodded, following Genevieve as she led her through to the open living space and pointed her to the plush, cream couch. As the silently frazzled director busied herself with opening a bottle and pouring two glasses, she could feel her guest's gaze on her.

When she headed back, glasses in hand, Genevieve fought to keep them steady despite the slight tremble in her hands. Their fingers brushed as she handed over the wine, setting her nerves alight and making her pulse quicken even more.

"Thank you," Eden murmured.

Genevieve raised her glass, searching for words as she settled into the sofa. "To . . . new experiences," she finally said, scrambling to regain that dominant aura that she knew Eden was expecting.

Eden's smile widened as she clinked her glass against Genevieve's. "To new experiences," she echoed. They both took a deep pull of the dark, rich liquid, their gaze never leaving the other’s. It wouldn’t take a genius to read the tension in the room as the temperature seemed to soar.

Genevieve sipped her wine a second time, suddenly unsure how to escalate this moment from “ here, have some wine,” to “I think we should take our clothes off now.” The air between them crackled with unspoken desire. Genevieve found herself at a loss for words, unable to bridge the gap between polite conversation and the raw need that coursed through her veins.

But before Genevieve could gather her thoughts, Eden took matters into her own hands. In one fluid motion, she leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a searing kiss that sent shockwaves through Genevieve's body. For a moment, she was frozen, overwhelmed by the unexpected boldness of Eden's move and the intoxicating softness of her lips.

“Sorry,” Eden stammered, clearly reacting to Genevieve’s sudden stillness. “I’ve just been wanting to do that since I walked in.”

“Don’t apologise,” the director admonished, bringing her hands up to cup the nervous actress’s flushed cheeks. “I’ve been wanting the same thing.”

Eden sighed with relief and then, as if a dam had broken, Genevieve surged forward, returning the kiss with equal fervour. All thoughts of dinner and propriety evaporated completely as she hurriedly set both their wine glasses on the coffee table, eager to resume their passionate embrace.

Their kiss grew more heated, tongues dancing together as their hands began to roam freely. Genevieve felt a newfound confidence bloom within her, spurred on by Eden's initiative. Her fingers, once unsteady with nerves, now moved with purpose as she began to unbutton Eden's dress.

Their clothes were hastily shed, falling to the floor in a trail of discarded fabric. Genevieve marvelled at the softness of Eden's pale skin, totally bare to her for the first time, and at the way it seemed to glow in the dim light of her living room. She pulled the younger woman up to straddle her lap, relishing the weight of her, the heat of her bare skin against her own.

Genevieve's mouth hungrily found Eden's pert breasts, lavishing attention on each rosy nipple. For all the time she’d spent picturing the stunning actress naked, she could never have done justice to the divine creature laid bare above her. She licked and sucked, drawing out breathy gasps and low moans from Eden that sent jolts of arousal straight to her core. Eden writhed in her lap, fingers tangling in Genevieve's hair as she arched into her touch.

Unable to resist the urge to explore further, Genevieve gently pushed Eden back onto the sofa cushions. She settled over her spread legs, drinking in the glorious sight of her flushed skin and parted lips. Genevieve leaned back in to draw one of those swollen lips between her teeth, while her hand found its way between Eden's thighs, fingers sliding through the slick heat there.

As she plunged two fingers inside, Genevieve pressed her forehead against Eden's, their breaths mingling in the scant space between them. She set a steady rhythm, relishing every gasp and moan that fell from Eden's lips. The actress's hips rolled in time with Genevieve's thrusts, seeking more, always more.

Genevieve found herself impulsively grinding down on Eden's thigh, seeking her own pleasure even as she focused all her attention on drawing those delicious reactions from her breathless protégé. She had no idea just how much experience Eden had had in the past, but the actress had certainly suggested it hadn’t been extensive or particularly satisfying. Genevieve was determined to right that wrong in every way she could with this gorgeous woman before their time inevitably ran out. Their bodies moved together in perfect synchronicity, as if they'd been lovers for years rather than mere days.

In the heat of the moment, Genevieve found herself captivated by Eden's eyes. Those piercing blue orbs, now dark with desire, seemed to see right through her carefully constructed walls. Eden was breathtakingly beautiful like this – flushed, panting, utterly abandoned to pleasure. The intimacy of it all suddenly felt overwhelming.

A sudden fear gripped Genevieve's chest, a visceral reminder of how dangerous these feelings could be when she’d sworn to them both they could never call whatever this was a relationship. She needed to regain control, to put some distance between them before she lost herself completely in Eden's gaze.

"Turn around," Genevieve commanded, her voice raw with desire and tinged with desperation. "I want you bent over."

Eden complied without hesitation, positioning herself on the sofa with her back to Genevieve. The sight of her perfect ass in the air, glistening with arousal, sent a fresh wave of lust coursing through Genevieve's body.

"Don't move," Genevieve ordered, her tone brooking no argument. She hurried to her bedroom, pulse pounding in her ears as she retrieved her strap-on and a bottle of lube from the drawer of her bedside table. She took a few seconds just to breathe, mentally slapping herself for almost getting in too deep. This was just sex. Eden had come here for her director’s guiding hands, her self-assured dominance. She certainly hadn’t come for Genevieve to start making gooey eyes at her.

When she returned to the living room, Genevieve was pleased to see that Eden hadn't moved an inch. The actress remained on all fours, her back arched beautifully as she waited for Genevieve's next instruction. The sight of such willing submission sent a bolt of pure desire straight to Genevieve's already aching pussy. She would never tire of Eden’s surrender, her absolute trust.

Genevieve took another moment to admire the view as she tightened the harness around her hips. Eden's skin gleamed with a fine sheen of sweat, her hair falling in tousled waves down her back. Unable to resist, Genevieve brought her hand down in a sharp spank against Eden's ass, relishing the gasp it elicited.

"You look stunning like this," Genevieve murmured as she spread some lube over the strap-on – though it was hardly necessary with how clearly ready Eden was to be thoroughly fucked – and lined herself up behind her. She ran the tip of the dildo through those slick folds, teasing her entrance. "So eager, so ready for me."

Slowly, Genevieve began to push inside, savouring every inch of the pink silicone disappearing as it sank easily into Eden's welcoming wetness. But Eden, it seemed, had other ideas. With a needy whimper, she pressed back, taking the entire length in one smooth motion.

Genevieve's breath caught in her throat at the sight, her hands tightening on Eden's hips. "Greedy girl," she chuckled, the words coming out more breathless than she'd intended.

Any semblance of control quickly evaporated as Genevieve began to move. She started with slow, deep thrusts, but Eden's responsive moans and the intoxicating sight of her bent over before her soon had Genevieve fucking her with reckless abandon.

The room filled with the sounds of their pleasure – skin against skin, breathy panting and Eden’s blissful keening, free from the fear of being overheard this time. Genevieve let her hands roam over Eden's body, exploring every dip and curve. She leaned forward, reaching around to cup Eden's breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples between skilled fingers.

Eden's back arched impossibly further, pressing her ass more firmly against Genevieve's hips. "Oh god, Genevieve," she moaned. "Please, I'm so close."

Genevieve's hand slid down Eden's sweat-slicked body, finding its way between her legs again. Her fingers quickly found Eden's clit, circling the sensitive bud in time with her thrusts. It didn't take long before Eden was crying out, her body shuddering as she came undone beneath Genevieve's touch. Her hips bucked wildly, chasing every last wave of pleasure as she rode out her orgasm.

Finally, Genevieve slowly withdrew, leaving a trail of kisses down Eden’s spine before settling back on the other side of the sofa. But Eden, it seemed, wasn't content with the distance. The actress immediately turned, crawling across the sofa toward Genevieve on trembling legs. Her skin glistened with sweat, her hair a wild tangle framing her flushed face. She looked utterly debauched and impossibly beautiful.

Before Genevieve could conjure another instruction, Eden was climbing into her lap once more, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Genevieve found herself melting into it, her hands coming up to thread into Eden's hair as she welcomed the demanding thrust of her tongue.

As she wound her arms back round Eden’s heated body, Genevieve felt herself being pulled under once again. The emotions swirling in her chest were overwhelming – desire, yes, but also a tenderness that terrified her. This stunning woman in her arms, in her home, was hypnotising her so naturally it quickly began to feel like more than just a physical outlet. The realisation sent a jolt of panic through Genevieve's lust-addled brain.

Breaking the kiss, Genevieve pulled back slightly, her eyes roaming over Eden's face as she struggled to find the words.

"I want you to perform for me," she finally managed, conjuring a plan to bring them both back to safe territory.

Eden's brow furrowed in confusion. "Perform?" she echoed, clearly unsure of what Genevieve meant.

Genevieve nodded, gently guiding Eden off her lap. "Lie back," she instructed, gesturing to the other end of the couch. "And spread your legs for me."