Suzanne had always praised herself on being a good girl. Sure, she wanted to know what it was like to bring a different guy home every night, to try those tips in Cosmopolitan (and other, more risqué magazines), and to be one of the girls she secretly envied... but she was a good girl. Her parents raised her to respect herself and others, to do an honest day's work for an honest day's pay, and to look for love and not lust.
Even at the wrap parties, she was a good girl. Celebrities and their entourages usually attended the events, bringing with them all of the trappings of Hollywood; however, Suzanne never glammed up and joined in their celebration of another successful show.
Sometimes, she'd see Simon dancing (or grinding) with one of the girls he was seen with (she wasn't sure of the exact term, since he never said he was seeing anyone and she guessed 'going steady' wasn't even a phrase in his vocabulary) and she'd imagine what it would feel like to have the attention of everyone nearby, to have a man's hands paw her in public, to look and feel so completely uninhibited while moving to the music.
But, then, she'd shake her head and continue walking and put her vivid imagination on hold.
Sometimes, after carrying on with Matt (about holiday mini skirts and garters, and other similar topics), she'd wonder what it would be like to go into his office and close the doors, pull the blinds, and drag Matt to the sofa. She imagined that he kissed like he meant it, even if he wasn't dating the person he was kissing, and she shivered when she thought about the invisible words his hands would leave on her skin in scratches and bruises.
But, then, she'd shake her head and sit down at her desk.
Good girls did not daydream about gyrating on a packed dance floor, about having office sex, about being with a man who left his mark all over her body. Good girls did not entertain notions like that.
Good girls had boyfriends who were sweet and everything else nice. Suzanne did. His name was Jason, and she wondered if he even knew what 'Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip' even was. He was the least Hollywood person she'd ever met in Hollywood; he had been a researcher working on a historical drama, helping the film retain some semblance of accuracy and she had been temping as a PA. Like other good girls before her, Suzanne took her time getting to know Jason (even though she was crazy about him) and she didn't invite him to her apartment until the second month of dating.
He never wanted to go to the wrap parties (crowds made him uncomfortable) so Suzanne usually tried to duck out as early as she could, bringing take out (pizza or chinese or indian, usually) and wine to Jason's home and they would celebrate the weekend together (cuddling, reading, watching a movie, and maybe sharing something more physical and intimate, if they were both in the mood). She didn't mind that he didn't care about Hollywood, but sometimes she minded that she couldn't tell him all about her work day, about Matt's latest issue, about the latest on-set gossip... she had tried two different times to tell stories about Tom, but each time it took her twenty minutes to explain who Tom was, so Suzanne had decided it might not be worth her time (and his) again.
But, good girls usually took time off when their boyfriends wanted them to, and Suzanne didn't want to take time off when Jason asked. It usually wasn't a big deal; she would just make time for their relationship during the show's next hiatus and Jason would forgive her with a smile and a kiss.
This time, though, it was a bigger deal than it usually was, because Jason was being made the editor of a widely circulated history journal and there was a public event that he was expected to attend---that she was expected to attend, as well. And she couldn't, because Allison Janney was the guest host that week and she was oh-my-god-so-funny-and-talented (and secretly, Suzanne suspected she had a small crush on the tall woman) and Matt had been out of his mind all week because he didn't think he could write anything good enough for her. Danny hadn't been able to tether him to his desk so Suzanne had to help with that task. And Jason didn't know who those people were (and he didn't really care) so Suzanne's excuses didn't carry much weight with him on Monday.
So, as Suzanne wandered around the party, watching Allison Janney and her fiancé (who, once married, would become 'Mr. Janney,' dwarfed by her career) mill around with some of her other friends from previous television shows and movies. She wondered as she wandered, about how good a girl she really was, since Jason was wearing a suit and tie and sipping bad house wine while discussing the difference between the new cultural history and the old cultural history with other contemporaries from universities across the state (and from a few neighbouring states) and she was watching Emmy and Oscar winners and nominees socialise with the rest of the 'Studio 60' cast.
Later, her good girl status was questioned even more.
She had taken a martini-on-the-rocks off of one of the waitress' trays and had been watching Allison dance with one of her 'The West Wing' costars while everyone else around them watched and laughed. (She wondered, because the pair was so at ease with each other, if something had happened between them; but she didn't know who to ask for confirmation.) And when she heard Danny approach, she gave him a smile over her shoulder.
"Good show," he said.
"She's great," Suzanne said, turning her body a bit to face the executive producer. "And Matt wrote really well."
"Once he settled down," Danny agreed.
Suzanne bit back a little laugh. She almost forget herself, her position, and then she looked up at Danny and asked, "Did you need something?"
His eyes darkened and he tilted his head. "Need something?" he echoed.
Suzanne blushed. "You know... like a phone call or a meeting or... coffee..."
"We're at the wrap party, Suzanne," he reminded her, "so relax and do what you want."
"What I want?"
He nodded and grinned a sideways grin that made her stomach tighten before she could remind herself that good girls did not succumb to the charms of her boss, a man who was romantically interested in the president of the network.
"Are you doing what you want?" Danny asked, looking more interested than Suzanne thought he should.
Looking back on that evening, on that conversation, Suzanne could not determine what possessed her---perhaps the spirit of the show's guest host, who was dancing and hugging a man while her fiancé looked on, or the spirit of a burlesque ghost trapped somewhere in the studio between the layers of paint and wires and Art Deco fixtures.
She turned her head and looked up at him, her dirty blonde hair sliding over her shoulder and down her back. "Not yet," she said quietly, before smirking and draining the rest of her martini.
"Really..."
Suzanne felt a thrill as she saw Danny's eyes dark again. He jutted his chin out a bit and cocked his head from side to side as he studied her.
Good girls did not set their empty glasses down on tables and strut away to darker corners of the studio. But, she did. She even cast a glance over her shoulder, hoping she looked more smoky than pathetic, before she turned and disappeared from sight.
Danny caught up to her by the time she passed the deserted sets used that evening. No one was around them---the dance floor, bar, and food tables were much more interesting than the News 60 set or a display of a college girl's bedroom.
"How about now?" Danny asked, backing Suzanne into one of the sets hidden by all the others---a prison cell.
Suzanne smirked. "I always wanted to go to jail," she whispered.
Good girls didn't pose like pin up girls for anyone and Suzanne had never tried to be so sexy in her life. She walked away from Danny and put her back against the bars of the cell. She wrapped her hands around them, way above her head, as she arched her back and spread her legs a little.
"How do I look?" she asked, feeling bolder than a good girl ever should feel. "Like I belong?"
Danny growled---making a sound that completely shocked Suzanne---and he approached her slowly. He put one hand on her cheek and the other on her hip and then he leaned down and kissed her; the kiss spiraled out of control quickly and soon his hands moved from her cheek to her hair and from her hip to her ass, while her foot moved from the ground to the back of his left thigh.
She knew that she should have pulled back and whispered that they shouldn't be there, because they both had romantic interests in their lives and because they could get caught by anyone at the party, like any other good girl would have.
But, she didn't say anything to that effect.
She didn't say anything at all.
She rocked her hips against his and she made a quiet sound in her throat; Danny pushed back against her and swallowed the sound with his mouth.
"More," she whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Please," she breathed, nodding shakily.
"And here I thought you were a good girl."
Suzanne blushed on the dimly lit set. "I don't want to be tonight," she murmured.
"You want... to be bad?"
"I'm in jail," she pointed out in a wry tone of voice.
"Good point," he agreed quietly, pressing the length of his body against the shortness of hers. He leaned back enough to drop his head so his lips hovered over her lips. "What am I gonna do with you, bad girl?" he asked, his voice nothing more than a rough whisper.
Suzanne lowered one of her hands to his head; she took his glasses off and tucked one of the folded arms of the glasses in the v-neck of her shirt.
"Whatever you want," she whispered, "because it's your night, too."
He growled again, so Suzanne blushed again.
The next kiss they shared was fiercer on Danny's part and much more receptive on her part. She felt her blood's temperature increase with every touch of tongue and lips and her stomach was so tight that she didn't think anything could relax it. When Danny's hand slid up her thigh, under her skirt, she broke the kiss to catch a breath of much-needed air and when she exposed her neck, he took advantage of that skin as well.
He nipped and sucked and kissed and laved her neck as his fingers expertly removed her respectable, good girl underwear. She opened her eyes briefly and saw him tuck the swatch of fabric in his jacket pocket and she opened her mouth to tell him she'd need those back, but he kissed her again.
Danny's fingers travelled up her leg again, but this time from the inside of her limb. His index finger slid inside her core, slowly but certainly until it was completely sheathed inside of her; then his thumb pressed against her bundle of nerves, already swollen from their kisses, and Suzanne felt her body suffuse with warm tension. She rested her head back against one of the bars behind her---being careful because they weren't very strong---and she looked up at him with dark, wide eyes when the kiss ended.
He watched her as he expertly (as far as she could tell) pumped her with his finger. He'd twist and curl it from time to time, and Suzanne would whimper and pant like a good girl going bad; when she felt her orgasm building, burning inside of her (hotter and hotter until she couldn't stand it), she whispered for him to take pity on her.
But, that's when he stopped.
Danny pulled his finger out of her body and sniffed it. Normally, Suzanne would have found that sight troubling; however, he seemed so pleased with himself that she couldn't help but enjoy it. He licked and sucked his finger clean and Suzanne whimpered in reaction.
He leaned in and sucked on her earlobe before whispering, "Go up to my office. Clear off the desk, turn off the lights, and wait for me---however you want me to take you."
"Oh god," she moaned.
Good girls did not respond so warmly to orders like that.
He smirked and kissed her again, forcefully plundering her mouth, before releasing her and walking away.
&&&&
Ten minutes after Suzanne was inside Danny's dark office, she was seriously beginning to wonder if she was a good girl at all. Never before would she have splayed herself out over a man's desk in nothing but her shoes, letting the scent of her arousal fill the air of the small office; good girls did not do things like this, she told herself quietly, because they went to bed with their boyfriends instead of to desk with their bosses.
When he came into the room, locking the door behind him, she felt her body start to tremble nervously. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard and summoned the courage to stay put. Danny moved quietly through the room; when he touched the slight sway of her lower back, Suzanne gasped and jumped slightly.
"Whoa there nugget," he murmured in a low voice.
Suzanne opened her eyes and turned her head, craning her neck to look at him over her shoulder. Doing that pressed her bare breasts into the unyielding wooden surface; she felt a shiver wash over her body.
"Looking good," he whispered before shrugging out of his jacket and throwing it onto a nearby chair.
That was the only encouragement she needed. She tried to stand up, straighten up, and turn to help him undress enough---but he prevented her from moving by pressing his hand down firmly onto her lower back. Once she conceded and held the position, bent at the waist over his desk, he rubbed his hand over her skin in a gentle massage; she smiled and closed her eyes, relaxing under his touch.
Danny unzipped his pants and Suzanne heard them fall to the floor---the coins or keys in his pocket clanged when they fell. She felt her hips tighten in anticipation as she waited for his next move.
"What do you want me to do?" Danny asked, pressing his erection into the cleft of her ass.
She swallowed hard. Good girls didn't say dirty things out loud---Suzanne wasn't even sure they thought them.
"Suzanne..."
"I... I want you to fuck me," she whispered.
She could hear the smile in Danny's voice when he asked, "What was that? I didn't quite hear you."
Suzanne sucked in a sharp breath and then she used a louder voice to repeat her previous request. Danny rewarded her with a line of kisses, over her spine, as he squeezed her ass with both of his hands. She heard herself whimper before she was aware of making the sound with her voice; her blood was pounding in her ears and she wasn't sure her heart should be pounding so hard or so fast.
"What do you want?" she whispered, her voice unsteady.
"Fucking sounds good to me," he whispered back, squeezing her upper thighs and rocking against her.
Suzanne moaned and pushed back against him.
"I... I... this is kind of kinky," she mumbled. "For me, I mean."
Danny chuckled and nibbled on her shoulder, pressing his chest into her back. "Kinky, hmm? How about... 'I want to come inside of you... fill you up, and send you back out to the party... I want you to walk around, feeling how wet you are... and I want you worried that some of that wetness might run down your legs."
Good girls did not rock against men when they said things like that. But, Suzanne rocked her hips and moaned. The thoughts Danny was putting in her head were so... unlike the Danny she knew during working hours, and pretty nasty; but, despite that, she felt herself responding to his words more than she had ever responded to Jason's warm and gentle words of affection and arousal.
"That's... that's pretty kinky," she admitted, laughing nervously.
"But you like the sound of it, yeah?"
Suzanne paused. Answering that question would change the nature of their evening. She inhaled slowly and then whispered, "Y-yeah." He rewarded her with another kiss to her back and she relaxed underneath him. "God, yeah," she added quietly, turning her head to smile at him.
He nudged her legs apart even more as he smiled back at her; she teetered momentarily, but then he caught her and held her waist with his hands. She balanced herself on the tips of her toes, in their sensible yet stylish shoes, and she waited.
Danny didn't waste much time after he had spread her legs as wide as he wanted them. He wasn't rough, but he wasn't gentle either. He slid into her body in one smooth stroke; he groaned and she gasped, at the same time, and the sounds seemed to fill the room. Suzanne briefly wondered if anyone could hear them, but then Danny thrust in and out of her again, and she stopped wondering about anyone else but them.
Each thrust Danny made pressed Suzanne into the desk, squishing her breasts with their hard and puckered nipples. She tried to push back against him, but since she was balanced on her toes, she couldn't thrust back with much power.
Danny reached up and ran his hand through her hair. Then, he stroked her cheek. Suzanne caught his finger in her mouth and she sucked as hard as she could on his digit. She realised it was the same finger he had been tormenting her with earlier and she tasted something saltier than skin.
Good girls never tasted themselves on someone else's skin.
Suzanne was convinced, between the sex, the sucking, and the occasional slap to her ass, that she wasn't a good girl. She wondered if she had ever been a good girl---that maybe she just didn't know what she had been missing by doing things her parents raised her not to do---but she didn't let herself succumb to depression. Instead, she closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her; she savoured every sound and smell, every taste and touch, and reacted the way she thought she should react.
Something warm was spreading through her abdomen. She had never felt so aroused before, and she wondered what exactly Danny was doing differently, because she wanted to feel that again and again. She thought if she could figure out what he was doing to her, she could suggest to Jason (or her next boyfriend after Jason) to reproduce it, and never go without it again.
She reached out and clawed at Danny's desk as his thrusts increased in force. He was making tiny grunting sounds every time their bodies connected, every time the end of him reached the end of her channel---and that was when she mewled and felt that warmth increase in intensity.
"D-danny..." she breathed.
"You okay?"
She swallowed hard and nodded. "Very... very okay," she whispered, whimpering a little on the last word because his grip on her hips had tightened.
Danny did something to change the way he thrust inside of her, and Suzanne's mind went completely blank. She felt her entire body tighten and relax before a wet warmth spread out around his erection and down her inner thighs as she felt her hidden muscles tighten around him.
"Oh god," she croaked as she relaxed her grip on the desk underneath her, as Danny slumped forward and pinned her to the desk. She would have fallen if he wasn't there to hold her up; she closed her eyes and savoured the feeling of satisfaction around them both.
"Mmpf."
Suzanne laughed breathlessly as Danny mumbled wordlessly into her hair. "Well said," she agreed, chuckling a little.
"God," he breathed, as he pushed himself up and started pulling himself together.
"Mmmyeah," she whispered, turning over to sit on the edge of the desk.
When Danny stopped pulling his pants up, to stare at her, Suzanne blushed and looked away. He cleared his throat and she looked back at him, her cheeks taking on a crimson colour.
"What?" she asked quietly.
He smiled boyishly. "You look pretty hot, sitting up there on my desk wearing nothing but your shoes."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he confirmed. He fastened his pants and closed the gap between them, to steal a quick kiss. "I might want you like that again."
Good girls were not supposed to grin at the prospect of doing something vulgar again, against a desk in someone's office. They were supposed to blush and insist that it wasn't appropriate, before quickly excusing themselves. Suzanne, on the other hand, grinned and tilted her head to one side before tugging Danny down to her level for another kiss.
"Well," she murmured as she slipped off of the desk with as much grace as she could muster (which wasn't a lot, given Suzanne's tendency to be a little too tomboyish to be girly) and reached for her skirt which had been on a nearby chair, "maybe at the next wrap party, you'll get a chance to satisfy your wants again."
"How about after the wrap party?" he asked as she dressed.
Suzanne blinked. "After the wrap party?" she echoed.
He nodded. "Yeah," he replied, "because I'm not giving you your underwear yet, and the thought of you walking around the studio... without that on... with evidence of me between your legs..." he trailed off and grinned. "I'm not ready to just walk away, Suzanne."
"Perhaps we could have our own wrap party later," she suggested, feeling a little out of her element again as they put their clothing back on properly. She wondered if there was a copy of something possibly titled 'Good Girl's Guide to Bad Girl Behavior' lying around to quickly flip through to figure out what she should be saying and doing.
He kissed her swollen lips again. "Yeah?"
She shrugged. "Maybe..." she trailed off and smiled a bit. "Maybe if you can convince me to want you again."
"Meet me in jail in an hour and a half," he whispered, before kissing her again.
Danny left her there in his office after a very thorough kiss. She stared at his back, and blushed when he stopped at the door and grinned at her as he unlocked its knob; when he left the party, she slumped against the desk and stared out the window, trying to process everything that had happened (and everything that would happen later that night).
Later, when she returned to the wrap party, she made conversation with Tom (who talked to her a lot, especially since she started working for Matt) and had a couple of drinks with some of the other PA's. The whole time, she could feel Danny's presence between her legs, and when the hour and a half time limit had almost passed, she knew she would be walking towards the jail set to reunite with him.
Maybe, she thought as she walked away from the party, good girls could be bad girls every once and a while.
