Encore

He stopped before her and became serious again. "I'm sorry I hurt you. And I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you lost the baby. I can't imagine how hard that must've been for you."

Zandra smiled at him and lifted a shoulder. "I survived."

"I wanna know about things like this," Linc stated. "I wanna be the first person you tell when you're hurt. I wanna be the one you trust to make it better."

His frankness always disarmed her, and now she couldn't resist wrapping her arms around him.

"I like the way you kiss it better," Zandra whispered, pressing her cheek to his chest.

Linc cupped her chin in his hand and made her look up at him. He gave her a sexy, knowing smile. "It's not just about sex, you know. Sure, anytime you want a hard dick, you come see me," he directed softly. "But you should know you can get a lot more than that."

Her eyes widened in fascination. "Can I?" Like what?

Linc tapped the tip of her nose with a husky laugh. "You wanna find out so bad, have dinner with me."

Before she could say anything, he leaned closer and gave her a light kiss. "Give me a call whenever you're ready. And the flowers were for you, by the way. I shouldn't have baited you. Sorry."

Zandra found herself gently set back. She felt bereft as he stepped around her and made his way to the door.

"Wait!"

Linc stopped with his hand on the doorhandle and turned to her. "Yes?"

"Will you...come see me again?" Zandra asked, her voice strained. He shrugged.

"Depends. Are you gonna call me?"

With a twist of the doorknob, he was gone. Zandra stared at the closed door for a long time. Then she went and buried her brooding face in the daffodils.

She did not call him, but Linc still stopped by the set every now and then. This went on for two months, until the crew began to ask her when he was coming next. They also called him Zandra's "mystery man" although it was no mystery what they thought he was to her.

Not that he ever discussed their relationship with them. She could tell from Karen's pained efforts to tease info out of her that Linc had disclosed nothing of importance. His discretion gave her a warm rush of gratitude. It had to take deliberate effort on his part since he was so open and friendly with the crew.

They all loved that about him. The only one who seemed reserved around him was that other bald-headed extrovert, Coby. Zandra had quickly noted that it was mutual.

This coolness between the two men escaped her understanding. Granted, Linc had found it understably jarring when Coby had introduced himself as a "skinhead from the cradle" (both his parents had been involved in the skinhead culture). Zandra had hastily pointed out that it was quite different from, and in fact opposed to the neo-nazi variety of skinhead culture.

"It's cool, man, we're SHARPs," Coby had grinned, though his eyes bore a subtle challenge. "SkinHeads Against Racial Prejudice. So if I got a problem with you, you already know it ain't skin-deep."

Linc had given a thin smile. "Noted," was all he'd said.

Zandra knew the on-screen chemistry between herself and Coby was incendiary. The show's producers also knew it, and so did the audience, and so every effort had been taken to capitalize on the fact. As a result, she and Coby made out on the show. A lot.

It was good for the show; it appeared the ruthless Cassidy had at last met her match, and the public lapped it up. But it was an unspoken assumption that this contributed to the lack of charity between Coby and Linc. And because it was unspoken, it went largely unchallenged, which frustrated Zandra no end.

Each man went out of his way to treat her with especial kindness in front of the other. It would have been sweet if it were not for the obvious rivalry vibes. She began to suspect they enjoyed their childish oneupmanship more than actually doing for her.

Zandra received what she thought was confirmation of this when one day, she walked into her dressing room to find Linc fuming.

"You were nominated for an Emmy?" he demanded. "And you didn't even tell me?"

"Well, it's not exactly a state secret," she chided lightly. "And besides, I'm not going to win."

"Everybody begs to differ," he growled. "And I would have too, if I'd known you were up for the prize. You should have seen Coby's face when I admitted I didn't!"

"What does it matter?" Zandra asked in exasperation.

"It just matters!"

"Why?! So you could keep face around Coby? Now he's got a leg up on you?"

A muscle clenched in his cheek but he spoke in a lowered voice, "I know how petty it sounds-"

"I doubt it!"

"But I need to know things like this about you. Not hear about them from other guys! Dammit, Zandra, you're my-"

Zandra stared at him, her hands on her hips. "Your what?" she asked in cool tones.

"My woman," Linc snarled finally. "I dare you to deny it."

Her laugh was a cynical huff as she strolled up to him. The air around him seemed to almost crackle with his anger, but she found it all faintly amusing. "You dare me?" she cooed.

He sent her a cold smile, quite at odds with the heat in his darkened green eyes. "I made you admit you belonged to me once before, beautiful," he pointed out softly. "Best believe I can make you do it again."

She narrowed her eyes at him, even as she felt the slow heat rising to her cheeks. The atmosphere had changed between them, and it felt like their banter might erupt at any moment into something far less civilized.

"Threats," she warned through clenched teeth, "do not sit well with me."

"Sweetheart, that ain't a threat," Linc corrected as he lowered his lips to hers. "It's a promise."

His bruising kiss landed on her lips. Zandra found herself accepting it, welcoming it, meeting it with her own savagery. Linc caught her body to his as they devoured each other. His hand clamped over her ass and forced her to feel his hardening cock.

She squirmed against him, anxious for more contact. It had been two long months since their tender night at the beach house. Her body rubbed up against Linc, demanding immediate satisfaction. There was nothing tender here, just unromantic, lust-driven madness.

Linc was more than happy to give them both what they needed. But there were clothes, so many goddamn clothes between them. It was maddening, considering how badly he wanted to see and grab her curves.

He pulled away and swung her in front of her dressing table. There was a prolonged clattering of lipsticks and mascara wands and perfume bottles falling over themselves in disarray, but neither of them cared.

It was too much work undoing the tiny pearl buttons on her blouse. He ripped the garment open and spread it wide open, then dragged her bra cups down to reveal her milk-white breasts.

Zandra had always loved to study their contrasting complexions. So when he cupped her breasts, letting the rosy nipples peek through his dark fingers, he knew she'd be mesmerized at the sight, reflected in the light bulb-framed mirror.

"Oh, Linc," she breathed. She placed her small hands over his and squeezed. His thumbs plucked her nipples, until she rubbed her damp thighs together.

"Look at yourself," Linc whispered, grabbing her hair and pulling her head up so she could see her face. "I could take you standing up, right here. I could do anything I damn well please with you, and you wouldn't stop me!"

There was no point denying the obvious. Zandra just wanted him to get on with it!

"Show it to me," he ordered as he roughly hiked up her tight skirt. He stopped when it was a bunched-up band around her waist then stepped back. "I wanna see that wet cunt."

She rolled down her soaked panties to her feet, shod in stilettos, and stepped out of them. Then she spread her legs and bent over.

A violent rush shot straight to his groin as he admired Zandra in this submissive position. She looked so hot, her pussy glistening, drooling for his cock. He was all too anxious to satisfy it, but not just yet.

"If you want it, Z, you're gonna have to beg for it." Linc loosened his belt and unzipped his fly.

Zandra closed her eyes, took a deep breath and whispered to him to fuck her. It wasn't enough for him. She asked louder but he was still unsatisfied. She tried again and again while he teased her fragile opening with the fat tip of his cock. He refused her every time.

Choking back a sob, Zandra finally cracked and begged like a whore for his fucking.

"Please Linc, take me! Now! Screw my horny little pussy till it's black and blue! I don't care if we get caught. Shove that thing into me, fuck my brains out!"

"Keep it quiet now, baby." Linc slammed his cock all the way into her. He had to cover her mouth to cut off her hoarse scream. "I said, quiet! Or you want me to pull out and leave you like this?"

Just the thought of it was intolerable. "I'm sorry, daddy," she whispered. She gripped the edge of the low table as he plowed her hard and fast. "I'll be good, I promise, just pound my pussy."

Pound it he did, giving her the fury she craved. She made muffled but impassioned sounds in her throat as she watched them humping in the mirror.

Her tits, poking out of the rent blouse, danced to his frenetic rhythm. The sight of him fully clothed while he had his way with her was too thrilling to shame her. It was Linc making use of her available pussy; it was alright. He was allowed.

Her climax broke and she clutched the dressing table so hard, a knuckle made a loud pop. Wheezing his name, she sagged against him. Even before her cunt had finished its final convulsions, Linc was pulling out.

"No," Zandra wailed.

But he paid her no heed as he spun her around then lifted her onto the table. He raked her body with his gaze, lingering on her exposed pink slit. Then he moved closer and penetrated her again with a grunt of pleasure.

Zandra leaned her forehead against his chest, trying to catch her breath. But he tilted up her chin and watched her face as he slowed his stroke to a devastating grind, staying mostly inside her. It felt like his dick was firmly massaging every inch of her sex. The pleasure was blinding.

"Dear God," she choked out. She linked her ankles around his hips to keep him there. The material of his coat rubbed her nipples to unbearable sensitivity. Yet it still wasn't enough.

"Come inside me, Linc," Zandra wheezed, burying her face in his throat.

Linc looked down at the woman in his arms and frowned. "I don't believe this shit," he hissed, furious at himself. "I forgot the protection-"

"I don't care! Please don't pull out, Linc, I need you! Come inside me."

"Zandra-"

"Please!"

She wasn't being shy about what she wanted. But Linc wondered if her need went beyond the eroticism of the moment. Was she hoping he'd get her pregnant? Did she plan to replace the baby she thought she'd killed?

The primeval male ego in him wanted nothing more than to pump his seed into her until her womb was full. There was an intoxicating element to having the power to knock up his woman when she asked. But even in the throes of their rutting lust, a sober part of him recognized that the circumstances were far from ideal. There was much, very much still to be discussed between them.

"Come for me, Zandra," Linc murmured in her ear. "Squirt all over my clothes. Let everyone will know you've left your mark on me."

He could tell from the tightening of her legs around him that she loved that idea. She'd already rubbed her scent on him in the most unmistakable way. It filled his head like a drug, driving him out of his mind and dangerously close to giving her what she asked for.

"Come for me!" he repeated, his voice ragged.

While his cock nudged and kneaded her pussy, Zandra slid her hand between her thighs and massaged her sensitive clit. Her fingers mimicked his cock's languid motions and soon her pleasure peaked again.

Linc felt her hot spray against the skin of his thighs and moaned. It almost pained him to slide out of her warm wetness but it had to be done. He slid her off the table then turned her around.

Zandra felt one gush of warm liquid across her buttocks. Another rope followed, then another, until he had covered her ass with his come. They stood panting heavily in the silence for a moment.

Linc reached in his pocket for a tissue then mopped up the pearly mess on her butt. She remained still until he was finished then threw him a quick smile over her shoulder.

"Um, th-thank you," she murmured shyly. She didn't know what else to say.

Linc snorted and started righting his clothes. After that wild ride, he hadn't counted on getting a tepid "thank you" afterwards. She used to be all over him after sex, showering him with fervent kisses. This felt like an anonymous hook-up in comparison.

"Don't be mad at me, daddy," Zandra said, her voice softly plaintive.

Right then, Linc almost gave a despairing laugh. How in the world was he supposed to get mad when she used that sweet voice and called him "daddy"?

"I'm not mad, baby," he heard himself say. "Just a little frustrated, is all."

"You want... more?"

He looked up to find Zandra staring at him, pink lips parted, hair wild, pale titties thrusting through the rags that remained of her top. Her skirt was still around her hips, exposing those firm thighs and her vivid camel-toe.

But what guaranteed her another fucking for sure was her pretty face; she was frowning with worry. It was the anxiety of a woman who wasn't quite certain she had satisfied her man.

That this beautiful woman should experience that kind of insecurity over him, and right after she had pleased him so thoroughly, all but melted his heart.

Linc kept his features impassive with an effort. "Damn straight, I do," he asserted, not sounding anywhere near as moved as he felt. "But not here. Filming is over for the day, right?"

Zandra nodded. Nobody had come by her dressing room all this time because they probably assumed she'd left.

"Let's go to your place, then." It wasn't a suggestion.

He quashed a pang of conscience at her quiet "Okay" and took off his coat. It went against the grain to bully her like this, but at least by going to her house he'd spare her the walk of shame. Also, being in her own territory would probably boost her confidence.

Well, that and being kept up all night by a demanding man in her bed.

Zandra smoothed down her skirt and brought some semblance of order to her hair. But she was at a loss as to what to do with her tattered blouse. Then she felt something warm draped over her shoulders and looked behind her. It was Linc's jacket. She wore it and hugged it close around her.

Being so oversized, his coat concealed her wonderfully. Murmuring her gratitude, Zandra went up on her toes and gave his dark cheek a kiss. I do so love a gentleman, she thought pleasurably.

* * *

It seemed to Linc that once he'd found out about Zandra's nomination, the night of the Emmy Awards seemed to race towards that marked date on the calendar. Then all at once, it was upon them.

For Zandra, the night was enjoyably hectic. The preparations had all the shrill antics of a typical girl's night, complete with swapped accessories and never-ending rebuffs of equally never-ending compliments. It helped normalize things, somewhat.

The male portion of the crew had their own protection from the awesome glamor of the Emmys. It mainly consisted of good-naturedly ribbing their female colleagues for being so damn excited.

Zandra had insisted on going unescorted, refusing both Linc and Coby when they'd asked to do the honors. The press had begun a tacky guessing game to determine which of the two men would take her to the award ceremony, thus confirming who she was sleeping with.

"The Sexy Mogul or the Lovable Misfit?" one tabloid coyly enquired. "Za-Za's Choice No Sophie's Choice," trumpeted another rag. She disdained to participate.

Coby had taken her refusal in stride and Linc had understood as well. The latter had also said he would attend the ceremony anyway, just as another face in the crowd. And so he had arrived in his own Maserati and Zandra had shown up in the limo reserved for the show's crew.

The night just got blurrier from there. Then came the moment her category came up and her name was mentioned; afterward, she could not remember her reaction, beyond the certainty that this was some kind of joke.

But the cameras zoomed on her smiling face as she calmly sailed up to the dais. The reporters took notes as she made witty lamentations of her lack of wit in speech-making before she returned to her seat, clutching the award for Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series in her hand.

For a long time afterwards, Zandra kept waiting for someone to announce the joke was over and ask her to return the Emmy. Instead, people kept pouring in to inundate her with congratulations. It left her stunned.

But as the night wore on, exhilaration gradually took hold of her. It took her by surprise how much this award meant to her. For the first time in a long time, she felt... Worthy. And she was grateful. The night couldn't get better from here.

Then it did.

"Zandra? There's someone special I'd like you to meet."

Zandra put her champagne on the table and turned behind her towards Coby's voice. But it was the pigtailed cherub in a white satin dress who caught and held her attention. Slowly, she stood up to get a better look.

"Who is this little angel?" she asked in tender awe, reaching to stroke the baby's rosy cheek.

"Amy Rose Fletcher, a.k.a my daughter," Coby replied, his pride no less obvious for his soft voice.

"Your...?" A dumbstruck Zandra stared at him then at Amy. Certainly, there was a great deal of himself in the child; she couldn't be more than seven months old but she already showed signs of her father's unapologetic charisma in that direct gaze. As well as having the cornsilk curls he lacked!

"I can't believe you're a father," Zandra remarked, still drinking in this ethereal beauty.

"Oh, I am," Coby laughed. "Her mom and I decided we're better as friends, but Amy and I are inseparable."

"I can see why."

"Yeah, we come as a package deal, alright." He turned to Zandra with a soft smile. "But we could make room for one more."

Zandra pretended not to hear that last part. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course you can! Here."

She took the fragrant bundle in her arms with the utmost care. "Hi Amy. Hey angel. You are the prettiest woman here, yes, you are. Oh my God, would you look at how bored she is, she's so unimpressed. You've heard it all before, huh, princess?"

"Yeah, her sappy old man is to blame for that," Coby chuckled.

"You're head over heels in love, aren't you?" Zandra marvelled. Coby shot her an incredulous look.

"How can I not be?"

How indeed. Zandra handed the baby back to him.

"I think we'll be heading home now," Coby told her. "It's way past her bedtime. You should come with us, Zandra. I'm sure you can sing a hell of a lullaby."

She laughingly declined but he persisted, "You know, the two of you get on like a house on fire. She fusses like crazy around strangers, but she took to you instantly. I bet she'll fall asleep in your arms and let you hold her the whole ride home."

Zandra's wistful sigh was in no way feigned. "You make it really hard to say no," she complained, "but I must. Good grief, I don't think I've ever turned down a more tempting offer."

Coby shrugged. "Well, it's your choice," he said. "I just hope whatever you're staying for is worth it. Night, Zandra. And again, congratulations."

Zandra smiled and bid father and daughter good night. She resumed her seat but her champagne had gone flat and her appetite had vanished. Already, it began to seem like staying might not be worth it, after all.

A thought came to her. Zandra frowned and bent her head as she pondered all the possible outcomes. Then she rose with new purpose.