Page 25 of Bound By Brielle (Crave & Cure Productions)

“Big Daddy is paying for me to get banged,” I laugh, using the nickname I loathe and said I’d never use. But the moment is light-hearted and silly, so once can’t make me vomit in my mouth too hard. Only, Winnie doesn’t laugh. She smirks a little and continues sifting through the box, ignoring my comment.

I give her the stink eye. “Oh so you finally decided to stop calling him that just as I joke about it?”

She nods and wastes no time saying, “Yeah, well, you were right. That was dumb.” She plucks a bottle of neon yellow from the box. “Can I borrow?”

I nod as she flips the bottle upside down, eyes widening. “It’s named Crave.”

I grin. “That’s a sign. I’m going for it.”

“And what did she suggest?” Aug asks as he regards the set Cohen is actively working on. From two feet behind him, Lance and I stand side by side.

“To gray out the background by using a high intensity spotlight on Lucy on the mark,” Lance offers, letting Aug walk around the mark on the floor, considering the idea.

He nods, his dark hair shining beneath the row of stage lights overhead. Off-set, the actors get their make up touched up, chatting and snacking as they wait for us to reset.

We’re trying a scene three different ways today, something that Aug explained is normal for him. Only in the editing room does he decide which to use, and though it’s extra time and labor spent, his films earn that back ten-fold because of his extremely careful decision making. Lance told me that much, and as much as I believed an adult film director couldn’t possibly be as talented as a mainstream film director, I was so very wrong.

I’m closing in on the end of my second month with Crave, and both Aug and Lance have an incredible eye for real intimacy on screen. Even when plugging in some pretty stereotypical “daddy and the nanny” type storylines, the final product is powerful. I’m learning the key to making a powerful adult film is getting the viewer to feel aboveandbelow the waist.

“And you explained that in this case, the set is a huge part of the story line. Being lab partners is the crux of the situation, and if we darken the set and focus on a solo, a lot of that story is lost,” Aug thinks aloud in response to Lance, which is actually in response to my idea to add a scene just for Lucy.

The lab partners scene we’re filming—one of ten scenes with different actors to create the ensemble film “Senior Year”—seemed to need something extra. I suggested a solo scene not only because Lucy has it written in her contract, I just discovered that she does predominantly solo’s. But also because her character needs some introspection. Or so I thought.

“I did,” Lance confirms with a dip of his head. Aug turns back to face us, his serious expression on me.

“Does it make sense as to why we scrapped your addition?” he asks.

I nod, biting back the urge to roll my eyes at Lance, since he did after all tell me the scene wouldn’t make the cut. I lift my chin, notebook full of things clutched to my chest, and say, “I understand. And it was quite complementary to have the opportunity to write a scene this early on in the program.” I mean that, andthe real methat means it andthe part of me raised by Quincey Parker who cradles his ego like an infant and has a fatal allergy to humble pie, battle inside me.

The scene didn’t work. My idea wasn’t the best. That’s gonna happen. And if I learnwhycertain concepts don’t work, then I grow. And that’s what I’m here for.

I twist to face Lance. “Lance told me as much, and now I understand.” I turn back to Aug and give a curt, professional smile.

The two of them just kind of stare at me, like they can’t believe I’m not stomping my foot and arguing.

“You, uh, you really processed that feedback I gave you,” Lance says, surprising me by stepping close, so close I can smell his green apples and cedar scent. I can smell the coffee he sipped for lunch, too. My lower half roars with pulsing need, and then Aug steps close, too, leaving the three of us in a tight huddle.

“I heard you, yes.” I smile, hoping he doesn’t notice the way my breath catches with them both so near, with our voices so low. “Taking direction,” I say, looking between them, “is something every good director has to be able to do.” I smile as they continue eyeing me a moment before Lance's eyes dart to Aug’s.

And then it occurs to me, despite the fact I’ve just risen above old Brielle, that this is the perfect chance to ask one of them out. We’re together, close, it’s quiet, no one is around. And unless I’m reading them in a foreign language, their interest in me is there. Aug’s fingers stroke the edge of his pockets as he takes me in, and Lance doesn’t move at all, just stands, staring down at me with his lips parted.

Eeny, meeny, miny, mo…

I face Lance, my pussy pulsing in greedy waves beneath my pencil skirt, a dirty secret just for me. He strokes a hand through his blonde hair, and the nervous vibe he gives hits my veins like drugs, giving me a boost of confidence. Because rattling Lance takes a lot, and it’s clear that my focus on him while all three of us stand here is making himanxious.

“Lance,” I start, clearing my throat. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me after work.” So he knows it’s a date, I clarify. “On a date. Just coffee but… yeah. Will you go out with me on a date?”

I have literally never asked a man out in my entire life.

Even though he’s blinking at me, giving me no response, my pulse flutters. This is exciting, andI like it.

His eyes veer to Aug for a split second, one I can’t be one hundred percent sure actually took place because it happens so fast. Full lips part and close a few times before he dips his head. “Sure.”

I turn to face Aug, and the excitement of Lance's answer drains from me when I see his expression.Devastation. I only see it a moment before his mask comes back up, indifference and stoicism clouding his face. “I’m sorry to do that in front of you at work this way, it’s just, I rarely have Lance to myself, so I took my shot.”

I glance between Lance and Aug, and they both do their damndest to stay focused on me. Like they realize it would be odd for them to be playing eyeball hockey on the heels of Lance accepting my date. But theywantto stare at each other, maybe even talk about what just happened.

Suddenly, I feel overwhelming guilt.

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