Page 62 of Play Room Actor

Kilian had proven that it was possible.

Maybe it was just Kilian himself, because the ladies at Red didn’t stir anything in me, even with intense fantasizing and hours of rubbing. Only when I imagined Kilian teasing me at the back door …

God! The fact that I was already thinking like this—as if an erection was perfectly normal—drove me crazy.

I felt liberated and wanted more of it. I was like an alcoholic who, after years of abstinence, was allowed a single drop and now couldn’t think of anything else.

I wanted more!

More erections!

More sex!

More Kilian!

Preferably all day long!

When I found out that Kilian had called in sick on Tuesday, it felt like a setback. Not that I had been expecting a hookup in the control room—not really—but the fact that he was sick struck me as odd.

Sure, he’d had two tough weeks but seemed perfectly fine on Friday. Even when we spoke briefly on Monday night, just before the show, he appeared okay. He was a bit tired, but nothing that suggested he was sick or anything.

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked Sebastian while we were having lunch on the terrace.

The stage manager crumpled the paper his sandwich had been wrapped in and set it aside. “No idea,” he said, exchanging a meaningful look with Jacob. “He texted me this morning that he wasn’t feeling well.”

“How was the show last night?”

“Great! It was a big success. The audience gave a standing ovation. Almost ten minutes long. It was a bit much, but it was the last performance of The Big Feast, so I guess it’s okay.”

“And who’s in charge of the lighting now?” asked Vanja, who was sitting next to Eliah, eating a salad.

“Tim,” Sebastian answered, lighting a cigarette. “He’s Kilian’s right-hand man.” Then, addressing Jacob, he added, “If Kil isn’t better by Saturday, Tim might step in.”

Eliah spoke up before I could. “Step in where?”

“For the big wedding party. Kilian was going to handle the lighting.”

I had already finished eating and retrieved my phone. “Are you okay?” I texted Kilian. “Let me know if you need anything. I can bring it by tonight.”

Did I have ulterior motives?

I wasn’t sure.

But I had a bad feeling and wanted to make sure Kilian was okay. I mean … did he have a fever? Or a stomach bug? Maybe he was lying unconscious with pneumonia and needed medical help. I was sure he wasn’t the type to get help for himself—that much I knew.

My message remained unread even half an hour later, which only strengthened my worry and made it hard to focus on rehearsals. Every time the lights changed on stage, I lost my place in the script and cursed myself for letting Kilian get so close.

It wasn’t just that I’d allowed him in—he had seen my other side. Mr. Hyde, as he aptly called it. That chilling voice of his could send shivers down my spine and make the hairs on my neck stand on end.

Since the orgasm in the playroom, I was even more at odds with Mr. Hyde. He terrified me, because all it took was for him to snap his fingers, and I would eagerly wrap myself in his cloak. The problem was, I knew just how insatiable Mr. Hyde was.

Had it been possible, I would’ve locked myself in the bathroom that afternoon to relieve the pressure that was driving me almost mad. But the truth was, no matter how long you rub cooked pasta, it won’t get hard again.

When I left the theater at five and checked my phone, I was surprised to see that Kilian had read my message but not responded. That wasn’t like him, and it gave me another reason to be concerned.

Kilian was open and approachable. Sometimes loud and annoying. He had a big ego but an even bigger heart, which he too often hid behind a sly smile. When he thought no one was watching, he didn’t realize that his affectionate nature was visible to everyone—which I didn’t like. Kilian was caring and looked out for others, something he’d proven to me in the playroom when he wiped the semen from my stomach and cleaned me up.

Nothing would have stopped me from stopping by his place on my way home. I wasn’t the type to show up empty-handed, but since I had no idea what Kilian was dealing with or what he might need, I decided against bringing medicine. I knew he liked orange juice—the kind with lots of pulp—so I brought a bottle.