Indulge My Fantasy

by Whitley Gray

  “Get out.” He took a step into the room, letting me go. It took me a moment to realize my hands had balled into fists, and I was sorely tempted to lay one on her, if only because of the way she made Aaron look.

  “Oh come on. Don’t look so indignant.” She looked me up and down again and then sniffed. “Well, I suppose she’ll do, but next time let me do the choosing, okay? I’ll find us something that’ll suit the both of us.”

  He yanked the coat out from under her so fast, she rolled on the bed, landing faceup. “Get. The fuck. Out.” He heaved the coat at her. “Now.”

  Fear may have been the only expression she was capable of, but it only lasted a second. A loose smile curved her lips. “Really, you—”

  “It’s over. Get out.” He pointed at the door. At me. I ducked around the doorway to make room.

  Her chin trembled when she spoke. “There’s no need to be this way. We simply forgive each other and then go on being happy for everyone to see. That’s how it always is.”

  “I was never happy with you. It was all for show. You know that. You turned faking it into an art form.”

  “That’s not a rousing endorsement of your skills, darling. So you think what you get with this is real?” She pointed a long, manicured finger at me. “Well, I suppose we all have our ‘slumming it’ periods. You’re almost at that age, after all.” She stood, every movement rich with grace and dignity even though she was naked in the bedroom of a man who appeared to despise her. “Give me a call when it passes.” She slipped her shiny, soft feet into a pair of heels that cost more than two months’ rent, closed the coat around her, and headed for the doorway. For me. She looked me over again and sniffed. Her perfectly plucked brows knotted. “Chanel Number Five?”

  “Pennzoil 10W-30.”

  For a moment she looked confused. After all that plastic surgery, it was an engineering feat that rivaled suspension bridges. Finally, with a tiny, dignified snort, she pushed past me and sauntered out the door like I was someone who cared.

  When the front door slammed, I looked at Aaron. My heart climbed out of my throat enough for me to say, “Tell me how she won Best Supporting Actress.”

  “She played a homeless person with AIDS.”

  I gave it a moment, then nodded. “Okay, makes sense. That’s about as far from her real personality as you can possibly get.” I took a step closer, fearing he might be a time bomb of some kind. “You okay?”

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen her real personality.” Mirth glittered in his eyes. “10W-30? You really said that?”

  “What was I supposed to say? My last perfume was Love’s Baby Soft in high school.”

  Exhaling, he shook his head, taking my hands in his. “I could…” His grip tightened, and then he didn’t so much pull me into his arms as he fell into mine, holding me tight and burying his head in my shoulder. Whatever he was feeling, I felt the tremors rippling through him. It made me want to hold him too.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Shhh.” All the fight whooshed right out of him so I stood there, holding him, feeling him…loving him.

  Chapter Six

  While Aaron watched me intently, I bit into the hot dog. It snapped between my teeth, releasing into my mouth a flow of hot juices, seasonings, and spices that coated my tongue in unmitigated pleasure.

  I moaned. “Okay, you’re right. I give. The cheesesteaks are better in Philly, but the best snap dogs are on the Santa Monica Pier.”

  “And now I love them for a whole new reason.” He licked his lips, his gaze on mine. “Who needs ED meds when I can just sit here and watch you eat hot dogs?”

  “I hope to hell you aren’t on ED meds, though it might explain a few things.” I took another bite. “Wait. Your nutrition Nazi of a manager lets you eat these?”

  He glanced around the boardwalk stand. “Shh. You don’t see her, do you? I caught hell when I confessed to the frosting. I swore up and down I burned as many calories as I took in.”

  I almost choked on some relish. “You didn’t tell her how, did you?”

  “Hell, no,” he said, sipping his soda. “But I did tell her why she was arranging your flight. I think she needed to know if you’d be a distraction to my career or not.” He looked at the soda cup in his hand.

  “Do I get to meet her?”

  “Do you want to?”

  I gave that a moment’s thought: did I want to share time in his reality, or keep him all to myself? I was interested in knowing what his life was like. Or maybe there was more to it. At the moment I wasn’t prepared to analyze that. Not while I had this hot stick of meat in my mouth.

  “If it’s part of the tour. I mean, if it’s not on the itinerary…”

  The corners of his mouth twitched, but the smile stayed solely in his eyes. “Believe me, I have plans for you. You don’t have a single hour without something to do. I’m going to send you back to Philly exhausted, properly pampered, and smiling.”

  The heat in his eyes made me shiver. Not willing to back down, I said, “Bring it. Where do we go from here?”

  He put down his food, got up from his side of the booth, and slid beside me onto the bench, blocking my view of the boardwalk. “Well, first, you’re going to finish your lunch. Then I’m going to take you back to the house so you can get cleaned up. Then we sit on the deck for a little while so you can get some sun on your pale Pennsylvania skin.” His brow wagged. “All of it.”

  “You…wait, what?”

  “Mm-hm. Just you, a deck chair, and a bottle of lotion which I shall apply myself. By hand. On every inch of you.”

  I was too turned on to move. “I, uh, okay. Sounds good. Continue.”

  “Then you’ll join me in the shower, and I’ll wash the lotion off you. Again, myself. I’m a very hands-on kind of guy.”

  “I seem to remember something like that.”

  His quick grin was still devastating to my heart. “Oh, trust me, when this week is over, you’ll never forget it again. I’ll make sure of it.”

  What was left of my hot dog dropped to the plate forgotten. My hand slid under the table to his thigh, then upward, wrapping my hand over the firm bulge under his zipper. “What if I want an appetizer?”

  “You don’t get one.” He removed my hand and then slid his hand between my thighs and pressed hard into the seam below my zipper. Dammit but even through the jeans, I almost came in his hand. “Shh, we’re in public,” he said, but his hand didn’t stop moving, his fingers alternately pressing and withdrawing, making me feel invaded and excited all at once.

  “Then stop doing that.” Please don’t stop doing that. I leaned my head back, eyes drifting closed and savoring the rockets of heat shooting through me in all directions.

  “Not until you get there.” He turned a little, facing me and shielding me from view. His free hand slid under my shirt, finding my nipple, pinching, and twisting. It was a miracle his other hand didn’t immediately know how wet he made me.

  I gasped, gripping the edge of the table like Meg Ryan, only this was very real. “Didn’t…you just say…we’re in…oh my God…we’re in public?”

  He leaned closer, his words and his heat filling my ear. “That’s the only reason I’m not sucking on your tits right this minute.”

  My head hit the back of the headrest and my body shook, tiny delicious quivers that made it hard to breathe, hard to see, and hard to think but so very easy to feel.

  His warm palm soothed my breast, as did his whisper, “That’s my girl.”

  * * * *

  It was hard to sleep that first night in Malibu. It was always hard for me to sleep anywhere unfamiliar. If I went out of town, I’d sometimes have nightmares in hotels because I’d open my eyes and see a different ceiling, a different window, and a different fall of light in the room. I’d jolt awake, and it would take a minute to get my brain reoriented and remember, Right, this isn’t home. It might not sound like a lot but spend a minute on a treadmill at ten miles per hour. A m
inute can feel like forever.

  Waking up next to Aaron changed the story altogether. We drove each other crazy for hours before he finally fell semiunconscious next to me. Though my eyes wouldn’t stay open any longer, my brain couldn’t shut down. I still smelled Gisele’s perfume in the room, even after Aaron stripped the bed down and shot his scent over the bed—the kind from a bottle and the one I really preferred. The thousand-thread-count sheets felt different under my skin, and the posts on the bed made me feel closed in. He promised he’d saw those off in the morning if it helped, but he couldn’t find his chain saw at night.

  In the dark, serenaded by the whisper of the ocean outside the picture window, the one thing that calmed me was hearing him breathing. He didn’t snore, but his breathing had a rhythm to it that reminded me of the engine on the Alfa outside. Kind of a purr or a low, smooth buzz. It made me smile. When I finally fell asleep, it was because I kept my mind and my heart focused on that sound.

  I opened my eyes to the daylight but didn’t hear Aaron breathing beside me. The shock jolted me awake, and I clutched around the bed, lost and alone in a pool of water-smooth sheets. The scent of coffee first brought me back to awareness. When my focus aligned with my memories, I exhaled, but it took a few more moments to erase the sadness of finding myself all alone in that giant bed in that giant strange bedroom.

  Ever the ninja, Aaron appeared in the doorway, leaning on the jamb with two mugs of coffee in his hand. His lazy, knowing smile brought me fully back into the moment. “How’d you sleep?”

  I sat up, the sheet falling away. It was a little late for modesty, and I liked the way his eyes darkened when he looked at me. “I could ask you the same thing. I think you crashed in midsentence.”

  “Was I still speaking in full sentences at that point? I don’t remember. I think I have amnesia. Remind me again what I was saying.” He walked into the room, holding out a mug to me.

  “It may not have been so much words as sounds you were making.” I took the mug. It smelled rich, strong, and alluring. He sat beside me on the edge of the bed. His eyes were bold in their desire.

  “Really. What did they sound like?” Still holding the coffee mug, his knuckles brushed across my breast. The nipple tightened immediately, surprising both of us. “Interesting reaction. While I’d love to perform more experiments on you, we have a pretty tight agenda.”

  I looked around the room for a clock. “What time is it?”

  “Seven. Ten, east coast time. Before you ask, no, I’m not usually up this early, but my call isn’t till ten. I—”

  I squirmed in place. “I’m sorry. I thought you had the week off.”

  “Technically, I do. It’s just a read-through. It won’t take too long, and you’re coming with me.”

  I all but climbed backward up the headboard. “I’m what? Wait, you’re not off as in no work?”

  His coffee-flavored kiss did more to soothe me than the mug in my hands. “It’s not work. I’m an actor, remember?” He stood, putting his mug on the bedside table, undoing the string of his pj pants. “Besides, these things are fun. We’re all there to get to know each other. We’ll read through the script, see how the chemistry works, and get a feel for the roles. You’ll love it. But first you need to get cleaned up. This way, milady.” His pants dropped away. He waved toward the master bath.

  My poor body didn’t know which end was up anymore. I went from sleep to panic to arousal to abject terror. My head rattled at the idea of meeting Aaron’s friends or at least his colleagues. Who else would be there? Someone I’d seen in movies and admired since I was a kid? Talented people whose work would one day have me sitting in a darkened theater, crying my eyes out?

  And then there was Aaron standing before me, naked, gorgeous, and ready, holding out his hand. My bridge to sanity at the moment, or maybe distraction. As long as he touched me, I didn’t have to think about anything else. Really, nothing else mattered.

  The bathroom was like something out of a home remodeler’s wet dream, so to speak. Two sinks sat embedded into sparkling white stone. The toilet wasn’t atypical except that it had a phone hooked to the wall next to it, and it faced a small flat-screen television. The floor beneath my bare feet was warm to the touch.

  “I hate you,” I muttered.

  He reached into a glass-paneled shower, and something hissed. “Why?”

  “I have tiles in my bathroom. If I walk in barefoot, I’ll shiver for half an hour until I get my body temperature back. This thing could give me a tan from the bottom up.”

  He took a towel out of a cabinet. “Would if it could. I did like that heated floor feature when I bought the house. Ladies first.”

  He pulled open the glass door to a space the size of my kitchen. I peeked inside and got a head full of water. “It’s raining in here.”

  “You like it? It’s the next best thing to showering under a waterfall. The temperature control is over here. Change it to whatever you like. It goes from icicles to peeling wallpaper in seconds.”

  I stepped back to let him in, my heart pounding because we were in the shower together. Nothing to hide behind and nowhere to go. It was so frighteningly intimate, but one sight of him standing there and I couldn’t get my hands on him fast enough.

  “After the mountains, I’ve had enough icicles for one lifetime, thanks. Something in between is good.” I reached for his abs, firm, warm, and now slippery as hell. I knew we’d come in here for something practical, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember what it was. Oh right, the shower. “Where’s your soap?”

  He pointed to a dispenser attached to the wall. “The washcloths are right over—”

  “Don’t need one,” I said as I shot some soap into my palm and rubbed my hands together. Kids in candy stores didn’t look as happy as I did the moment I started on his pecs and rubbed soap across his body.

  His eyes drifted closed. “I love a woman who can get resourceful.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet.” I coated him in bubbles, using the time to let my hands memorize the feel of him. He was all strong and contoured and hairy in some places, less in others. When I got to his cock, I took my sweet-ass time about making sure he was clean everywhere.

  He reached out to the wall for support. “Your hands are talented.”

  “Ask the water pump in the Volvo,” I said, kneeling to get to harder to reach places. He shivered when I stroked his legs up and down, each in its turn, my face so close to some wonderful trouble. An idea crossed my mind, and I reached for more soap and grinned so broad that my face hurt.

  Aaron looked down at me. “Okay, that’s a little weird, you looking at my dick with that big smile on your face.”

  “I’m trying to think of all the swear words I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  “Um, why?”

  I looked up at him, still grinning as I rubbed him with fresh suds. “So I can get my mouth washed out with soap.”

  “Oh, shit.” His eyes closed again with his hand flat against the wall. “Tell you what. We’ll save that trick for later. For now, why don’t you let me wash you?” Before I could protest, he pulled me to my feet and tilted my head back so the water rained through my hair. I closed my eyes and savored the sensation of his tender touch and the light fall of water trailing down my body. “I love to watch you surrender. You do it so completely.” His fingers stroked through my hair, caressing my scalp until I was hypnotized by his touch. “You give so much. I almost feel guilty taking what you offer me, but you feel so damn good. I can’t help myself.”

  I sighed. “You make it feel good to give in.”

  Just as carefully, he washed the soap from my hair. I felt him reach past me for more soap, and then his hands were on my face, my throat, and my shoulders. My nipples turned stone hard, eagerly awaiting their turn.

  “Is that what you’re doing?” he said. “Giving in? Or are you taking over? I haven’t figured that out yet.”

  I reached out for the wall when his h
ands slid across my breasts, lavishing them in soap and tenderness.

  “See, that’s the key to a successful surrender. Stop thinking and go with the flow.”

  His hands trailed across my ribs, my belly, and down to something hotter than the water at the moment.

  “Hmm. I’ll have to consider that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I didn’t have breakfast, and I’m hungry.”

  I gasped, a failed attempt at protest when he knelt in front of me and slipped his tongue up through my folds to find my clit, amazingly accurate considering I was still standing. He pulled one leg aside for better access, and I leaned back against the wall, under the shower spray, being pelted on two sides. “No. Please. I’m going to fall— Oh!”

  His fingers stroked my legs, light as the fall of water above me. “Who just told me I should give up and go with the flow?”

  I chuckled, struggling to breathe and being showered in sensations. “What percentage of household accidents happen in the shower? Let’s not become statistics, okay? It might be hard to explain to the paramedics.” Was I really begging the man not to eat me? But I did want to survive the experience, and that wasn’t easy under the best of conditions.

  He rose to his feet, laughing. “Out here I’m pretty sure they’ve seen worse, babe.” He pulled me against him, pinning me to the wall with a breath-stealing kiss. “God, I’ve waited so long to do this.”

  At last my hands were free to explore him again, and they did so with gusto. “What, make love in the shower? I do have to admit, this is a pretty neat bathroom.”

  He raised one of my legs to his hip. His dark blue eyes pinned me as forcefully as his hands did.

  “No,” he said. “Make love to you in this shower.” I felt him slip inside me. We were both so slick from the soap and water, it was effortless for both of us. He felt natural there, and I was relaxed and ready so that I sighed and opened to him, taking him deeper when he gripped my ass and lifted me higher. I wrapped my legs around him and held on to his neck, not the least bit scared of falling. He pressed me back against the shower wall, his hips moving slowly and easily as his cock slid all the way into me.