Sweetheart Starlet: A Sweet Lesbian Romance Page 9

  “I suppose that I already am,” I said. Stepping back from them, I held the phone up and got Corinne and the woman in frame. Corinne slid her sunglasses up into her hair and smiled joyfully. She looked absolutely majestic next to the woman. Nothing bad about this chick, mind you, she was a perfectly fine person apart from her bad manners. But Corinne just had this undeniable glow. I felt a bit weak.

  “Get a couple,” said the woman. “In case the first one doesn’t come out.”

  “Fine, fine,” I said, quickly snapping a few pictures. “All right, I think you’re done.” I handed the phone back to the woman, who immediately went through the pictures I took.

  “Goodbye,” said Corinne, bringing her sunglasses back down over her eyes.

  “Oh!” said the woman, looking up from her phone. “Goodbye! Thank you!”

  “I’ve got to say, Holmie,” I said to Corinne as we continued walking, out of the earshot of the woman. “You’ve got a lot of grace.”

  Corinne just smiled wide at me, showing off her bright white teeth.

  *

  “Afternoon Ms. Holmstrom,” said the doorman at Corinne’s building as he let us inside. Corinne slipped in first and I followed gingerly behind. The building was old, vintage, ornate, a beautiful structure that just oozed elegance and wealth. It was just off Central Park and actually pretty close to the restaurant we had gone to earlier on the in week.

  “If I’d known you lived so close to the Tarragon Cafe,” I said. “There’s no way I would have let you drive me all the back downtown the other night.”

  “Oh, whatever,” said Corinne. “If I had just sent you on your way,” she said, then leaning in close to my ear and changing her voice to a whisper. “We would have never kissed.”

  “True,” I admitted.

  “That wouldn’t have been good,” said Corinne with an impish look on her face. She had her sunglasses perched up on her head now and as we approached the elevator banks, a man standing there in a fancy outfit pushed the button for us.

  “Beautiful day, Ms. Holmstrom,” said the man as we all waited for the elevator to arrive.

  “Sure is, Mark,” she said. “Mark, this is my good friend Tabitha Bloom,” said Corinne, motioning toward me. “You might see her around the building. She’s good people.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Bloom,” said Mark, slightly raising his cap. The elevator made a dinging sound and then the doors began to open.

  “Likewise,” I said, saluting him. Corinne laughed and swatted at me.

  “They’re not soldiers, Tab,” she said. “C’mon.”

  The elevator was old and loud and it jostled as it ascended up the building. I looked over and feigned a fearful look, causing Corinne to shake her head and let a grin ease over her mouth. Reaching a hand out, I braced myself against the side of the elevator.

  “This thing isn’t going to fall, is it?” I said.

  “It’s part of the charm,” said Corinne. “This building had some of the city’s first elevators.”

  “Right,” I said. “And they haven’t been maintained since they were installed.”

  Corinne scrunched her face up at me and then bumped her hip into mine, causing me to slightly lose my balance. I played the whole thing up, wobbling and widening my eyes and shaking. Before much longer, the elevator came to a halt and the doors clanked open.

  “It’s over now,” said Corinne. “You can relax.”

  “Solid ground!” I said, leaping out of the elevator and planting myself firmly into the baroque red carpet underfoot. “This carpet is really nice.” I looked down and shifted my shoe into the carpet.

  Corinne just shook her head at me and started her walk down the hallway, with me eagerly following behind. I couldn’t help but look at her backside as she walked, her rear moving up and down with each step. I could tell she had muscled, yet lissome thighs underneath her yoga pants. She was one fit woman.

  The hallway was quiet, almost like a hotel, the light was orange and somewhat dim. There were no windows in the long hall as we walked toward Corinne’s door. The scene felt like it was out of a horror movie or something. It was a bit claustrophobic.

  But everything changed once Corinne opened her door. Her condo was opulent, beautiful designed, large windows on one side of the apartment looking out over Central Park. It was like time traveling, going from the hallway into her home, going from antique to modern. While her condo was certainly a large space and roomy, it was actually smaller than I would have expected someone with her kind of money.

  “This is a swank place,” I said, stepping inside behind her. Corinne unzipped her track jacket and hug it up near the door, now only wearing a tight tank top which just so happened to give off a nice view of her abundant chest. I’m not trying to come off as overly sexually obsessed or anything, but I don’t think you or anyone else could blame me in starring at her. Seeing her on film doesn’t even do her justice.

  “I don’t really need a lot of space,” she said, wandering in and looking around, assaying her own living quarters as though from a fresh eye. “My place in LA is a bigger but, you know, there’s a lot more space out there.”

  Corinne wandered into the kitchen, which was connected to the living room, the wall cut out between the two rooms and separated by a counter and stools so that you could easily see between them. I stepped up to the counter and leaned on it, smiling as I watched Corinne maneuver around.

  “How about a glass of wine?” she asked me happily.

  “It’s still early, isn’t it?” I said. “Why not!”

  Corinne grinned and retrieved an open bottle of white wine from her fridge, pouring us both a glass, and handing one to me.

  “Cheers,” she said, beaming.

  “Cheers,” I said, the two of us touching our glasses together.

  *

  That one glass of wine turned into a couple glasses of wine and then a new bottle. Neither of us were big drinkers but we were having so much fun it was hard to say no. As the afternoon waned and the sun began to set, we opted to order Thai food for dinner. The whole thing was moving so fast but I was so happy to be with Corinne, it was so easy to be around her, I just went with it all. For a moment, I felt a bit nervous because I knew I had to get to the office early on Monday and try to figure out that week’s show. But I couldn’t deny the good time I was having with Corinne. I never wanted it to end.

  With empty take out containers on her coffee table, the two of us huddled up together on her couch with a blanket over us. Corinne was still in her yoga pants and tank, and I was in a t-shirt and jeans, both of us sitting cross-legged on the couch, shoulder to shoulder. As our favorite gory and incestuous high production fantasy show neared its end, both of us wide-eyed and attentive to the TV, Corinne leaned tighter against me, her head lightly touching mine.

  “Wow,” I said once the show ended and the credits began. “I’m so glad we ended up watching that together because, even though I’m loving hanging out with you, I would have been thinking of the show the rest of the night.”

  “I know!” she said. “Like, what did I miss? Yeah, I’m glad you like it, too. That’s convenient!” The two of us laughed together and snuggled up even closer underneath the blanket, if that was possible.

  “Mmm,” I mused. “Wine.” Reaching down to the coffee table, I retrieved my wine glass and took a sip. Corinne muted the television as I sat back against the couch. She smiled at me and twisted a finger through my hair.

  “So you’re over here pretty late,” she said, a bit of fire dancing in her blue eyes.

  “Oh,” I said. “Should I go? Are you trying to kick me out? I mean, if you didn’t want me to stay here and watch Game Of—”

  “No!” Corinne protested with a laugh. “No, of course not.”

  “So what are you trying to say?” I said. I smiled at her and took another sip of my wine. Underneath the blanket, I could feel Corinne’s hand slide up my thigh and give me a subtle squeeze through the denim
. “Oh, I see,” I said teasingly.

  Corinne just grinned at me and took my wine glass from me. She drank the rest of the it herself and then set the empty glass back on the coffee table. The two of us starred at one another for a pregnant moment, trying to sum each other up. I could feel my heart thumping hard, my pulse quickening. A part of me wanted to question how the hell I had gotten into this position, cuddled under a blanket with this sexy starlet. But another part of me, the much smarter part, advised that I shouldn’t question it and that it would be a much more enjoyable proposition to just run with it.

  “I’m going to kiss you, all right?” whispered Corinne, leaning in closer to me. I could feel the heat growing hotter between us.

  “Okay,” I said, but as the word left my mouth I was interrupted by Corinne, pressing her lips to mine. As she initiated our kiss, I felt her hand squeeze harder on my thigh and in that moment my heart felt undeniably full. Feeling a revived sense of verve, I ardently returned Corinne’s kiss, letting my hands snake around her slim waist and pulling closer to her, the two of us tangled together there on the sofa.

  My mind went crazy, buzzing with all the scenarios of love and lust that Corinne and I would share together. I imagined the two of us jet-setting between New York and LA, sitting first class, drinking mimosas, laughing along together at something incredibly funny that I said. She’d invite me onto the set of her latest film and I could watch the shoot from just off stage, in between sneaky bites swiped from the craft services table. After her shot was complete, she’d run over to me, hug and kiss me, and we’d laugh happily together at how perfect our budding Hollywood romance was going.

  I let out a soft moan as I felt Corinne push harder against me, her chest heaving just the slightest bit, our warm bodies emanating a passionate humidity. Her hand moved further up my thigh and I would have given all three wishes from a genie to not be wearing pants at that moment. Why did I have to put pants on today? I hated pants right then. Really hated pants.

  I continued dreaming about our impending relationship but then logic suddenly struck me. This would have to be a secret relationship. What was I going on about with all the public displays of affection? Corinne had plainly told me her situation. It was a discreet setup. While this realization saddened me a bit, the fact that I was making out with the hottest actress in Hollywood more than made up for her. Sometimes you just have to live in the moment.

  “Mmm,” Corinne groaned, pulling her lips off mine to catch a breath of air. She smiled sheepishly at me and then brought a hand up, pulling the black frames off my face.

  “Ooh—there—watch it,” I said, trying to be funny. I mean, I was always trying to be funny. Corinne laughed softly and then put my glasses down on the table.

  “You’re totally the geeky hot girl,” she remarked as our faces once more came together. “You remove the glasses and bam!”

  “You’re too kind,” I said, nuzzling my nose against her. I yearned to be closer to her. My clothes felt unnatural, like they just shouldn’t be there, sticking slightly to my skin. And that undeniably sense of arousal was mounting within me. I was beginning to get to that point of inevitability. Like, “is this going to happen? Yeah, this is going to happen.” You know what I’m talking about.

  Then we kissed again. Each time we reignited the kiss it grew more impassioned, hotter, steamier. Corinne’s face was so soft against mine, her lips full, wet, slightly open. Heads tilting to the side, fingers roaming each others bodies. I was so excited that I couldn’t help myself and I slid my fingers up the bottom of Corinne’s tank top, feeling her soft flesh against my palms. As soon as I did this she moaned and leaned back, pulling me down with her onto the couch.

  With lips locked we began to squirm into one another. Corinne rubbed her hands on the small of my back until finally dropping them down and sneaking them into the back of my jeans. I felt her lightly tug at the elastic band of my panties before easing a couple of fingers down underneath the fabric. I once again damned that I was wearing pants. I just wanted to tear all my clothing off and run around Corinne’s condo naked. Naked and happy and ready for love. I hadn’t felt this excited about another woman in a lot longer than I could remember. Things felt like they were really coming together for me. Everything was coming up Tab.

  I felt Corinne’s finger lightly run over the top of my crack, her hand buried down the back of my pants, and my heart just about skipped a beat. I pulled back wetly from our kiss and took a deep, dramatic breath. Corinne smiled up at me and just tittered.

  “Do you want to head to more… comfortable accommodations?” mused Corinne, giving me a sly look where she lay, back on the couch.

  “I mean… uh, yeah,” I said. “Very much so.”

  “Okay,” she said lightly. She didn’t have to say another word. I eased myself up off of her and rolled off the couch, Corinne following close behind me. She stood up and lazily stretched, like she was a cat, her blonde hair tumbling down her back with that subtle curl. I felt frozen as I watched her slink around the coffee table, the black yoga pants tight against her legs, against her butt, leaving very little to the imagination. At the risk of sounding a little bit crass, I felt myself moistening and trembling underneath my pants. The anticipation was heavy.

  With a flick of the wrist indicating I follow her, Corinne started to move out of the living room and toward a dark hallway that lead deeper into her condo. I watched intently, unable to move for a moment, until I got my bearings and sashayed a few steps behind her, my bare feet running over the hard and tight berber carpet below.

  As Corinne swayed sensually down the hall, I watched as she lowered her hands to the hem of her tank top and then adroitly popped it up over her head. Underneath she was bare, her athletic tank having had the built in support for her chest, and as she turned to toss her top into the corner of the hallway I caught a glimpse of one her breasts, bouncing to the side as she moved. I was hypnotized. Corinne had rightly won the title Sexiest Woman Alive and I don’t care who currently held that office. They should have retired the award after her win.

  “C’mon,” she said in a low, husky tone as she turned to me from the doorframe to her bedroom. I could have stared at her, standing there in nothing but a tight pair of yoga pants, for the rest of eternity. I could have died right then and felt like my life was meaningful and productive. Her curious and wry smile, though, indicated to me that there was so much more to experience yet.

  I’d never been more ready for anything in my existence.

  *

  I felt like a loony, a drunk smile oozing across my face as I sat there in the writers’ room, another Monday morning brainstorming meeting in session. With my elbows on the table, hands supporting my chin, I felt like I was just about to melt down onto the wood below my arms like I was some cartoon character who had turned to mush. My evening with Corinne was absolutely magical, fantastical, a pleasurable congruence of carnal harmony. We truly meshed well, a great sexual energy between us, and her body was, um, pretty great. But I imagine you know that by now.

  Corinne was wonderful in bed, so wonderful that I already felt addicted. I just needed another hit. Just one more bump. I had to chase that dragon.

  “Tab!” called out Bernie, snapping his fingers in my face. “Seriously? Are you zoning out again on Monday morning?”

  “Huh?” I said. I felt like I had just woken up as I looked around the room at all the faces starring back at me. “Again?” I mused. “I feel like I’m always waking up to you guys starring at me with angry faces.”

  “We’re not angry,” said Janet. “Just… disappointed.”

  “Aw, c’mon,” I whined.

  “Have you been taking drugs?” asked Wayne. “I mean, you kinda seem like you’re on drugs.”

  “I’m not on drugs,” I said, flipping my hand at him. “Guys!” I tried to get them all back on my side. “I was just up late last night. I’m a bit tired this morning. It happens to all of us. Wayne, you don’t really even
sleep, do you?”

  “Not much,” he said. “But I don’t zone out at the writers’ table.”

  “But you sleep under it during lunch,” interjected Bernie.

  “Hey man,” said Wayne. “I trusted you with that secret.”

  “Tab,” said Bernie. “I think I can speak for the enter writing staff when I say… get your shit together!”

  “Psh,” I said. “Whatevs. So what did I miss?”

  Once I got my head on straight for the meeting, we went at it as usual but I often found my thoughts wandering back to Corinne. Every time I started to think about her I scolded myself. “Bad Tab, get back to work.” But she was just so dreamy. So perfect. The one wrinkle was that I had to keep tight lipped but I could deal with that. Right? So what if the woman of my dreams, the woman of most peoples’ dreams, wasn’t quite out yet? I mean, sometimes that’s just a sacrifice you have to be willing to make.

  Later on I sat in my office at my desk, pounding into my laptop, typing up a sketch that we had worked out in the meeting. Just as I was joyfully constructing a joke, I received a pop-up text message on my screen from Bernie. I clicked over to my text app and read.

  “Check out CMZ,” said Bernie’s text. CMZ was the huge celebrity rag that I’m sure you’re familiar with. We often read the CMZ site to get fodder for sketches, to keep up with what celebrities were doing, what was hot in popular culture, all that, so that we could poke fun at it and write timely bits.

  Changing gears, I opened up my web browser and navigated to the CMZ website. But once the page loaded up, my stomach sank. On the front page there was a large image of Corinne and I together at the park, standing close enough to look like we very well might be lovers. And the headline?

  “Is CoHo A Lesbo?”

  I just shook my head as I read the article. The image was taken from a fan’s Instapic page, that same fan who had stopped us in Central Park to get a picture with Corinne. She had snapped a picture before approaching us, posted it, and it blew up on social media. Now the world was questioning whether or not Corinne was actually a lesbian and, of course, if Tabitha Bloom, head writer for This Saturday was her lover. Because Tabitha Bloom, CMZ reported, really was a lesbian.