The Good Girl

"Any suggestions, Zoe?"

I felt my head shake.

"Did you like what you saw this time?"

A slight nod of my head.

Gary chuckled. "I took direction from your suggestions. Less cheesy plot and more natural action."

A round of hoots and hollers and applause broke me from my daze.

"Way to go, Zoe!" Matt said, giving me a hug.

I grinned at him, blinking. I started to thank him, but I was pulled into Brett's arms for a hug, as well. Then Helena was hugging me. I hadn't even realized she had entered the control room.

The door flung open behind us while they were still congratulating me, and a masculine voice roared, "Gary, that was the best damn scene I could have expected! I can't imagine how it looks on tape. Fucking-A!"

I turned to see Zach dressed in his hoodie and shorts again, his damp hair messy from an apparent towel-dry. Damn, he was sexy-looking. Especially fresh out of a shower.

"Thank Zoe," Matt laughed.

Zach ran his hand back through his hair, which only made it stand more on end...and be more appealing. "That was your idea?"

I nodded again. Suddenly, I was swept up into his arms and being spun around.

"Who'd have thought?" he laughed, setting me back on my feet. "Great job, Zoe!"

I just grinned up at him. A whiff of his cologne made me a little dizzy. I held onto him a moment longer to regain my balance and felt his muscles flex under my fingertips. Then I was standing there all on my own while the control room emptied out.

We still had a few more hours at the studio before we could call it a night. My elation carried me through the remainder of the tasks, including watching the guys review different camera angles that had been captured but not viewed on the main screen then adding intro and exit music.

After work, we all went out for dinner to celebrate what Gary had coined the Zoe-style. By the time I got home, I was completely exhausted and crashed.

###

October passed quickly with Gary incorporating more of my ideas into his short films. Several of which starred Zach. I didn't get much work done on those days. I'd become intimate with the man, albeit from a distance, and it was hard to not see him naked in my head. Thankfully, Dave's calls always realigned my thoughts. And I grew more comfortable with talking dirty to him on the phone. I especially liked when he turned the camera on himself and I got to watch him jerk off to the sound of my voice.

As the days then weeks had passed since coming to the West Coast, I had come to a realization: I loved Dave in that deeper way a woman loves a man. College was just a blip in time. I had my whole life ahead of me. If he would have me, I wanted to spend the rest of my years as his lover, his partner. I wanted to please him, not only in bed, but also in our daily lives. Since we'd become intimate, he constantly told me how much he cherished me. I longed to return the favor.

Zach seemed to start paying more attention to my work in the campus studio after his shower scene. And I found out he had been the one to grade my midterm project for Gary's class, assigning me one of the highest scores among my classmates. A couple of girls overheard his admission and turned their noses up at me after that. Little did they know I was used to being snubbed.

Besides, I wasn't here to impress them...or Zach. In fact, the only one I was seeking approval from was Dave. I hoped he would be impressed with my collage of photos from around campus and LA of interesting, out-of-the way spaces that I'd titled "My Little Secret" and edited in various tones reflecting the emotions I felt while visiting each one.

The double entendre was that Dave had asked me to do something for him if I was feeling brave enough when I saw him again: let him take some nude photos of me. I'd gotten a head start, shooting various parts of my nude body in each of the areas I'd photographed for my project. The final one had been behind a waterfall on one of the local hiking trails. I was seated with my legs spread, my right hand parting my pussy while I flung my head back and cupped my breast—all possible with Dave's graduation present that included a self-timer. I was going to surprise him when he visited at Thanksgiving in three weeks. And I couldn't deny that I was secretly kind of excited about Dave taking some photos of me.

Where had that good girl gone?

###

The Friday before Thanksgiving, it seemed as though all of the professors had decided to heap on extra work in preparation for finals, which were still three weeks away. The semester really had flown by. As much as I'd missed Dave, he had been right. I'd been so busy with classes and working, our time apart hadn't felt as horrible as I'd thought it would.

Gary had decided to close the warehouse studio for the following week due to the holiday, so we worked extra late that night, doubling up the number of short films he wanted to finish before the break. He liked to keep to a quota, and I assumed he held Dave to the same standard. In between shoots—three of which used Zoe-style for the plot development—I thought about my lover contributing his own part to the porn industry. I was only slightly jealous of the women he had seen naked as a result, even though he'd assured me he'd never been tempted once to cheat on me.

By the time we got done, I was so exhausted I just crashed on my bed with my clothes still on.

When I woke the next morning, I cringed at the missed call and three texts from Dave asking if I was okay. I checked the time and realized it was still early where he was, so I shot him a quick text that I'd just had a late night and all was well. I didn't know what his plans were for the day, but if he gave me a time, I could call him back and FaceTime. Was it less than a week that I'd finally see him again?

But after breakfast and a shower, I had another text from Dave telling me he wouldn't be available all day to talk. He apologized and said he missed me. I responded the same and flopped back on my bed.

Helena pulled me from my doldrums an hour later and asked me to go shopping with her for our holiday dinner. We spent the rest of the morning visiting several local markets for the ingredients, ordering the turkey, and even finding a new outfit for the special day. Including lingerie to surprise Dave, which had only been a little embarrassing when I'd explained to Helena why I suddenly wanted to stop at Victoria's Secret. It was nice having a female role-model again in my life, and I told her that I appreciated everything she and Gary were doing for me.

We dropped off our purchases at home and met a couple of other professors for lunch. Afterwards, Helena said she wanted to swing by the warehouse to finish some paperwork since she hadn't stayed as long as the rest of us the night before and we were nearby. It was out of the way to take me home first, so I said it was no problem to tag along.

The studio was fairly quiet for a Saturday with only Jim and Joe, two of our maintenance crew, working on an issue in one of the kitchen sets. Helena disappeared into her office, promising she'd only be thirty minutes—sixty at most—and I retreated to the control room. But with no one else there working on production today, all of the equipment was off.

I wandered around the sets with my clipboard, instead, imagining more scenarios for future scenes like Gary had recommended during our group's take-out Chinese dinner last night in the conference part of his office. In each room, I jotted down a few notes and then moved on.

I'd covered all three bathrooms when I reached the first bedroom. It reminded me of a little girl's room with the pink, frilly bed skirt and pillow shams and the white, metal headboard with curlicues at each post. The last time I'd been in this room, there was a green comforter, the bed had a wooden-slatted headboard and footboard...and the walls were light gray not pale pink. The bedrooms were the only rooms where they changed out furniture, accessories, and sometimes paint to change up the view since most of the scenes took place there. I made a note to ask Helena for an inventory of what they had in storage. That would provide a wider range of themes for me to brainstorm on.

The second bedroom was as I'd remembered. I studied a padded, leather bench at the end of the large bed that was similar to the one in Dave's special basement bedroom. I was imagining being bent over it while being taken from behind when I heard a cough behind me.

I turned and shrieked, fumbling but saving my clipboard and pen before I dropped them.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Zach said, his hands up with his palms facing me. "I thought clearing my throat was enough warning."

"N-no problem." I gulped at his stylish pullover and jeans. They did not stop my memory from recalling what lie beneath. That I'd seen him in all his glory. Three times. Gary had told me that the videos he'd taken wouldn't be released until next year—after Zach was done at UCLA—to prevent any fallout with the school. But the man definitely had his future lined up, whichever side of the camera he chose to be on.

I took a deep breath and smiled at him. "What are you doing here today? Production has been shut down."

"Gary said I could use the darkroom to finish up a project. I was just taking a break." He put his hands in his front pockets and raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question."

"Helena and I were at lunch. She had something to do here before the holiday."

Zach just nodded and looked around the bedroom set. After an almost awkward amount of silence, he glanced at me. "Have you ever considered doing this?"

Heat filled my cheeks, and I stared at my feet, shaking my head. "Oh, no. Not me."

"I bet you'd be good at it. You're so pretty. So innocent looking. Like Sister Christian."

"I-I don't—"

"You've always dressed conservatively, Zoe, but that doesn't hide how sexy you are. Did you know that makes you even more enticing? When I first met you, I thought, 'She doesn't know what she's got.' But your innocent act doesn't fool me anymore. Good girls don't think up steamy scenes for adult films."

I sat down heavily on the bench, clutching the clipboard to my chest with shaking hands. What he said was true. I was no longer naïve. Not since I'd discovered Dave's videos. What a wicked path they had led me down. And yet, I wouldn't trade—

"Fuck, what I wouldn't give to have you in a scene."

I snapped my head up and saw Zach pacing, running his hand through his hair.

"For you to be on the other side of that lens with me? Sweetheart, the camera would eat you up. Especially if you're using one of your own scripts. The Zoe-style. Is that what Mr. Mitchell called it? 'Don't act,' he told me. 'Just do what feels natural.' I hadn't believed it would work. But it did. Brilliantly. And it was all because of you." He stopped suddenly and stared down at me, crossing his arms, which made his muscles bulge against his shirt. "I bet you're a voyeur. Is that your thing? You get off on watching other people have sex?"

I gulped. I did like watching from the control room. Imagining I was the one in the scene although I'd never have the guts to do it myself. But then I thought of my project for Dave. The thrill I'd gotten from taking nude selfies. I shook my head. No, that was for his eyes only. Before I could respond, Joe popped his head into the room.

"Zach, could you come help us?" he said, tilting his head toward the direction of the kitchen where I'd last seen him working.

Zach walked past me, his arm brushing mine when he leaned in and whispered, "I think that's fucking hot."

My legs wobbled when I stood, and my heartrate wasn't any better. After several deep breaths, I figured I'd go see what was going on since I was pretty much done with making my list. By the time I caught up to the two men, they were in the kitchen discussing something with Jim who kept pointing at the ceiling.

Zach saw me and hushed the guys. "Zoe, you've got small hands. Maybe you can reach up into the light fixture and grab the camera. It's gotten wedged in too far for them to reach, and using any tools might damage it. The only other option is to cut into the ceiling and try to access it from above."

The other two guys looked at me pleadingly. Apparently, the second option was the last resort. Knowing how much Gary loved his setup around here—and how much he'd paid for it to look just so—I understood.

I ducked and looked up into the spot on the ceiling that appeared to be a regular can light. Sure enough, there was a black camera lens pointing down at an angle. But from where it was situated, it would only record the sink. It needed to protrude more from the light fixture and swivel when the right buttons were pushed in the control room. I shrugged. "Sure. I'll try."

There was a joint sigh—relief?—from the men, and then Jim and Joe checked that the locks were in place on each side of the metal step ladder that was positioned between the counter on the left and the island on the right.

I toed off my heels and started the ascent in my stockinged feet. I was on the first step when I saw Zach go around the island on my right. I glanced back to see him just standing behind me, his hands on his hips.

"In case you fall," he shrugged, but he was smiling up at me.

"Good idea," Joe nodded from where he stood in front of the ladder. He shot me a toothy grin when I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Can never be too careful," Jim chimed in from behind me as well.

On the third step, I realized my thin, linen slacks snugged up against my ass and pussy each time I raised my leg to continue the summit to the ceiling. God, just what I needed. If only I'd worn jeans today like I'd planned. But we'd had that lunch with Helena's colleagues, and I'd felt it necessary to dress up. Now, I silently cursed myself at my fashion sense.

Somehow, I got to the eighth step without any problems except a severely warm face. And I swore I could feel the heat of all three men staring through the light fabric. Right to and through my panties. I knew at least that's what Zach must be thinking from his position. And Joe...well, he also had a nice view of the underside of my breasts. Thankfully, my blouse was still tucked in, otherwise, he might have gotten a different eyeful.

I pressed my lips together and focused on the job at hand. I was able to get my thumb and first two fingers around the part of the camera that projected out. But when I pulled, nothing happened.

"Nada. Zilch."

"Try turning it," Zach called up.

I tried that. It moved a hair to the left, but that was all. "This is supposed to be able to come back out this way, right? Not from above?"

"Yeah," Joe said. But I heard him mumble, "I think."

With a sigh and an eye roll, I tried again. This time, I tightened my grip while wiggling my hand back and forth. There was definitely more movement, but I froze at the slight pressure of a hand grazing along my thigh and ass.

I put my left hand flat against the cabinet above the sink and turned to yell over my right shoulder at whomever was groping me.

The next thing I knew, my right foot slipped, and I was falling both down and backward at the same time, it seemed, my hands flailing as they reached out and found only air. It happened so fast, my scream never made it out of my throat. But I felt my left ankle catch on the step for a moment as my body kept twisting and the edge of the island rushed up to meet me. Then pain speared my forehead, quickly spreading throughout my body like cracks in a sheet of ice when I made contact with the floor on my right side.

"Zoe!" I heard male voices yelling over a loud clatter.

My cheek was wet, and I couldn't see clearly. So I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. But that felt like fire burning in my lungs.

Voices surrounded me. Hands touched me. Then a woman screamed.

"Helena, tell Gary to hurry up!" a man yelled. "Call an ambulance!"

His voice was very familiar. Could it be? Dare I hope?

"Zoe, I'm so sorry about what I said," Zach's voice sounded full of tears while he whispered in my ear. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have— Just please, be okay. Please..."

Someone's hands pulled him and the others away. The familiar voice urged the others not to move me.

I whimpered, "No, no, no."

Soft lips touched my cheek, making me flinch. Even that hurt.

Then the voice soothed, "Shh, shh. Good girl."

Dave? I refused to open my eyes, afraid that the voice in my head would not match the face before me if I could even see him.

He continued to stroke my cheek, my cries sharp and croaky. In the distance, I heard footsteps running and people yelling. Gary asking questions. Helena trying to explain what she knew. Jim and Joe and Zach talking over them, saying it was just an accident.

After what seemed like hours, the paramedics arrived and put me in a neck brace before they carefully eased me onto a backboard, all while checking my vitals. I had a mother of a headache, and apparently a gash on my forehead that would need stitches from what I gathered of the conversations everyone was having around me. But luckily, nothing seemed broken, though I may have a few bruised ribs from doing a side flop on the linoleum. I was one lucky girl, according to the EMT.

Secured to a stretcher, I finally dared to peek at who held my hand throughout the whole ordeal. I choked on a painful breath when I saw it really was Dave staring down at me, his face covered in tears. Which only made me cry again. And my ribs scream despite the morphine I'd been given.

"It's okay now, Zoe. I'm here, honey. I'm here."

I blinked through my tears. "But you said you weren't—"

"I couldn't wait until Wednesday. I wanted to surprise you. Gary picked me up at the airport. Helena texted that you were both here still, so we came by. I'm glad we did."

"Thank you, Dave," I whispered, squeezing his hand tighter. "Thank you."

###

***

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

***

"I still can't believe my parents are selling our house and moving to Korea. 'Oh, Zoe, you can visit whenever you like.' Uh, yeah, right."

Dave snorted softly. "At least they had the decency to tell you in person rather than over the phone."

I shuddered and swallowed heavily. "They had a long layover on their way back to finalize the sale. I was a convenient stop. Next, you'll tell me you sold your house, too."

"No, I'm renting it out," Dave growled. "When you're done with college, we'll move back. Together."

"What about your insistence that it will be good for both of us to be ap— Ah! Right there!" I arched my hips up, feeling his fingers stroke my G-spot.

"Hmm." His lips pressed against the back of my neck, his hand still moving in the same, slow method. "I was wrong. Don't question it, because I'll only deny I just said that. Besides, I need to keep an eye on you per the doctor. He's still concerned about a concussion."

I bit my lip, remembering how sore I had been for months. X-rays had proven nothing was broken, but in addition to a sprained ankle, three ribs had been bruised. I'd barely been able to sit through Zach's graduation ceremony in December without wincing whenever I took anything more than a shallow breath. Up until then, he'd continued to profess his apologies. He'd never confessed to having been the one who was copping a feel when I fell, but I had my suspicions he was sorry about more than his colorful one-sided conversation beforehand. Regardless, I'd promised that I'd held no ill will toward him when he'd gently hugged me goodbye. If anything, his words had given me the confidence to embrace my desires and no longer hide behind the quiet little girl image I'd always known.

"I'm fine. I think we would know by now if— Oh...fuck."