Page 10 of Wicked Games

We had three full curtain calls before the audience applause started to die down and we could all head back to our dressing rooms. The narrow backstage hallways were filled with laughter and ceaseless chatter. Everyone was excited to change and start celebrating the end of what had been a successful run.

Walking slowly back to my small dressing room, I turned the knob with what could only be dread. Shutting the door behind me, all the noise was suddenly muffled and indistinct. Taking one step in, I stared at the long white box as if it were really a pile of swarming snakes. Not for the first time, I wondered if I could just sneak out the backstage door and race home, skipping the party. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice?

It was silly of course. Not only would that seem dreadfully ungrateful to the man who had essentially given me my first big part, but it would also be extremely rude to the rest of the cast who had quickly become close friends.

Giving myself a mental shake, I took a determined step toward the dress box. I was being dramatic for nothing. It was just a dress. Nothing more. It probably didn’t even mean anything.

Reaching out, I carefully opened the lid and pulled back the tissue paper lining.

Oh, my God.

Without even pulling it out of the box, I could tell it was the Night Sparrow dress from The Vampire’s Wife collection. Its distinctive black velvet appliqué floral pattern over sheer tulle was unmistakable. Plus, I knew this entire collection by heart. It had a very Victorian yet modern feel to each dress, which I loved.

“Try it on.”

Screaming, I turned to find Richard standing behind me, casually leaning against the wall as if he weren’t trespassing in my private dressing room.

Before I could say a word, there was a swift knock on the door before it swung open.

“Lizzie? Are you okay?” said Mike as he poked his head in. “I thought I heard a scream.”

“Elizabeth is fine,” answered Richard, each word clipped as if he were snapping them off with the edges of his teeth.

Placing his hands on his hips, Mike tilted his chin out. “Who the hell are you?”

“The man who pays your salary, now leave us.”

Mike immediately cowed but not before he shot me a quick uncertain glance.

“It’s… ah… fine, Mike. I was just startled. Mr. Payne and I are saying our goodbyes.”

Still, Mike seemed hesitant to leave.

Richard lifted his shoulders off the wall and straightened to his full height, which was a great deal taller and more intimidating than Mike’s. He didn’t say a word. Just stared with those intense black eyes.

Swiftly abandoning any thought of chivalry, Mike left, closing the door behind him.

Richard’s gaze shifted to me. He took a step forward. With a slight gasp, I stepped back till I could feel the cold cinder block wall press against my spine. Without taking his eyes off me, he reached down and locked the door.

The simple click of the lock sounded more like the harsh metal clang of a jail cell door snapping shut. Trapping me in.

“I despise interruptions,” he said quietly as if that were enough of an excuse to lock a woman in a room with him.

“Thank you very much for the thoughtful gift, sir.”

“Richard,” he corrected.

“Richard, but I’m afraid I can’t accept. It’s too much.”

Leaning close, Richard reached up and once more pulled the comb from my hair. Despite copious amounts of hairspray, the heavy mass tumbled out of the chignon put in place by the makeup department and over my shoulders. He stroked one soft curl before responding. “And I’m afraid, Elizabeth, that I’m not giving you a choice in the matter.” The dark command of his voice showed me it would be extremely foolish to continue arguing. Once more I wondered if anyone ever won when coming up against this man.

Plus, if I agreed, perhaps he would leave. His presence was overwhelming enough when I wasn’t trapped in a tiny dressing room with him. It felt as if there was no air around him. What would it be like to sleep with a man like him? He was probably the type to completely dominate a woman. Press her against the wall, grab her by the wrists, and just fuck her senseless like they do in the movies.

My mouth opened at the salacious image as I stared at his strong shoulders and chest.

Once more, he smirked. It wasn’t a smile. Just a slight tilt of the lips in amusement.

Oh, hell, I could feel my cheeks heat scarlet with embarrassment, as I was absolutely certain he had somehow read my kinky thoughts.

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