Date: September 1997
Location: Toronto Film Festival, balcony suite
Connection: Parker's the indie queen of the moment. AEG acquired North American rights to her latest Sundance darling. She crashes Alexander's afterparty without an invite.
---
The suite overlooked the skyline — Toronto glittering with its polite Canadian intensity. Inside, the afterparty pulsed with awards chatter and low-burn envy. Critics, distributors, actors pretending they weren't desperate.
She wasn't on the list.
That's how he knew she was worth it.
Parker Posey breezed in wearing a thrift-store fur coat and irreverent red lipstick, barefoot, holding someone else's cigarette.
"You're the mogul?" she said, not bothering with hello.
Alexander glanced at her, unbothered. "Only when someone's watching."
He handed her a glass of champagne. She took it, smirked, didn't say thank you.
---
They found themselves on the balcony later. Alone, above the murmur of the festival.
"I didn't sell you the film," she said.
"No," he replied, leaning on the railing. "You just starred in it."
"I don't believe in moguls."
"I don't believe in indie darlings. And yet—here we are."
She laughed — sharp, real. "Touché."
---
They traded provocations like poker chips.
He said she had the presence of a fallen angel who never once repented.
She said he looked like a man who paid people to pretend he was dangerous.
He told her she needed better lighting — not to look prettier, but to show the shadows.
She told him he needed worse lighting — to be exposed.
---
By 3 a.m., they weren't flirting.
They were fencing.
She sat on the floor in the suite's kitchenette, eating the last of the strawberries from a silver tray. He joined her without ceremony.
Parker studied him. "You're too composed."
Alexander shrugged. "You're too self-aware."
She smiled slowly. "Maybe we should break each other."
He looked at her — really looked. "Already started."
Outside, the city slept.
Inside, two very awake creatures circled something electric.
And the next morning, her film opened to a standing ovation.
But what she remembered was the taste of champagne and strawberries, and the way he watched her when she wasn't performing.
The kitchenette was bathed in the soft, ambient glow of the city lights filtering through the window. The cold tile floor beneath them seemed to heighten every sensation as Parker and Alexander found themselves drawn closer, the tension between them reaching a fever pitch.
Parker, still in her thrift-store fur coat, reached out and traced a finger along Alexander's jawline, her touch electric. "You know," she murmured, "I've always wondered what it would be like to fuck someone who doesn't give a damn about anything."
Alexander captured her wrist, his grip firm yet gentle. "And I've always wondered what it would be like to fuck someone who knows exactly what she wants."
Their eyes locked, and in that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. Parker leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. "Then show me," she whispered, her voice laced with challenge and desire.
Alexander's hands found the hem of her coat, pushing it off her shoulders. Beneath, she wore a simple black dress that clung to her curves. He ran his hands over her hips, pulling her against him. Parker gasped as she felt the hard length of him pressing into her stomach.
She reached for his belt, her fingers deftly unbuckling it. Alexander's breath hitched as she freed him, her hand wrapping around his cock. He groaned, a low, primal sound that sent shivers down her spine.
Parker pushed him back against the counter, her lips crashing onto his. Their tongues clashed in a fierce, hungry dance. Alexander's hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and dip, his touch both demanding and reverent.
He hiked up her dress, his fingers finding the lace edge of her panties. With a sharp tug, he tore them off, the sound of ripping fabric echoing in the small space. Parker gasped, her eyes wide with surprise and arousal.
Alexander spun her around, pressing her against the counter. He lifted her dress, exposing her ass to the cool air. Parker arched her back, offering herself to him. Alexander's hand came down hard on her flesh, the sound of the slap echoing in the room. Parker cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure.
He entered her in one swift thrust, filling her completely. Parker moaned, her hands gripping the counter for support. Alexander began to move, his hips slamming against her ass, each thrust harder and deeper than the last.
Parker pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, a raw, primal symphony. Alexander reached around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in tight, demanding circles.
Parker's breath came in ragged gasps, her body tensing as pleasure built within her. Alexander's movements became more erratic, his breaths coming in short, sharp pants. He leaned over her, his teeth nipping at her neck, his hand still working her clit.
With a final, deep thrust, Alexander came, his body shaking with the force of his release. Parker followed soon after, her orgasm crashing over her in waves, her body clenching around him.
They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies entwined, their breaths slowly returning to normal. Alexander pulled out, turning Parker to face him. He kissed her, a soft, gentle kiss that belied the intensity of their encounter.
Parker smiled, her eyes shining with satisfaction.
Outside, the Toronto skyline continued to glow, a silent witness to their passionate encounter. Inside, Parker and Alexander stood in the aftermath, their connection forged in the heat of the moment, a secret they would carry with them long after the night had ended.