Page 37 of Snow Balled

She giggled. “I have no idea. Except for a few things like scrambled eggs, cooking isn't really my thing. This is fun, though.”

“I’m glad you think so.” It was nice to see her smile—her real smile, that was.

“Seriously, it was. I, um, I’ve had some trouble with writing, so it’s nice to be reminded that I do know what I’m doing with acting, at least.”

“Want to talk about your writing?”

“No,” she said instantly. “Give me one more role to act.”

As I tried to think of a good part for her to play, something else occurred to me. “You don’t have a script.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

“Well, usually when you act, you’re using someone else’s words, right? But tonight, you’re using your own words.”

“Yeah, I guess. Why?”

“I’d say that’s the writer in you feeding your actor self the script.”

For a moment, she was still, thinking over what I’d said, and then she smiled. “Maybe so. Let’s see if I can do it again with a third role.”

“Okay.” I tried to think of something that’d really challenge her. I had no doubt she could handle it. “A woman being mugged at gunpoint.”

Her head tilted as she thought about it. “I’m actually trying to get away from playing the damsel in distress.”

“Okay, then be the mugger.”

She glanced upwards. “Might get loud again. Come on, give me a hard one.”

Hmm… she was such a shy young woman. Maybe a real test of her acting ability would be to make her be assertive. Suddenly, I had an idea—one that may or may not have been influenced by her using the phrasea hard one. “Okay, be a cougar. An older woman on the prowl.”

Her eyes lit up at the challenge, but then almost as quickly, they narrowed. This time there was no doubt she looked me up and down, and to my surprise, it almost made me feel a little uncomfortable.

“You work out?” Her voice was the sexy rasp of a life-long smoker, and I almost dropped my beer in surprise.

“Yes.”

“I can tell.” She put her bottle to her mouth and closed her lips around it in a way that made my cock stir. She kept her eyes on me while she gulped down half the bottle.

Then she set it on the coffee table and reached her hands up behind her head. Seconds later, her honey-colored hair spilled around her shoulders. I’d never seen it down, but it fell in gentle waves. Fuck. She needed to wear it that way more often.

“Ever been with an older woman?”

I tried to laugh, but my mouth was too dry. Sierra was two years younger than me, but right now, she made me feel like an inexperienced teen. “No,” I said hoarsely.

I raised my beer to my lips, but she leaned forward and plucked the bottle out of my hands. “Did you ever want to?” she asked huskily.

Crap. If she came any closer, she’d notice the bulge in my jeans. “Okay, you win, you’ve proven you can play any role I throw at you.”

She ignored me entirely. Her hand rested along the back of the couch, and somehow, she was closer to me than I thought. “Do you like to play?”

Shit. “You win, Sierra. You can stop now.”

Sierra continued to stare at me through half-lidded eyes. I never would’ve guessed she’d look so predatory.

“You’re what, twenty-five?” Her gaze swept up and down my body. “That’s a good age. So much…stamina.”

Wait, what was that thing actors said? When they did that thing where they brought their hand down in front of them to signal the end of their act? Then I remembered.

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