Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3

by Isabelle Peterson

  A slow wicked grin spread on his face. Charlie placed a hand over his ridge under his jeans and rubbed the length a few strokes.

  Then I said, “Slate. Marker. Action!” and slapped my hands together, then put my hand back under my head.

  “Undo your jeans. Take Little Big Charlie out.”

  He laughed. “What did you call him?”

  “Little Big Charlie,” I smiled sweetly. “He’s not that little, you know. I don’t know how you even walk around with that thing.”

  He growled at me and leaned in to kiss.

  “Stop. I’m filming,” I laughed, fully getting into my role as director. “Now fuck your hand.”

  “Yes, Madam Director,” he grinned and unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them. He slipped his hand in the waistband and into his boxer briefs. He stroked inside his underwear a few times, until I cleared my throat. He smirked at me and then with both hands shimmied his pants down over his bulge until his cock sprang free.

  Charlie glanced at me, but my eyes were trained on that massive piece of meat. I wanted to wrap my hands over it and lick the head. With his right hand, he gripped the shaft of his penis and gave a few pumps. His left hand came up and reached down further, cupping his balls and giving a light squeeze. Hmm. Good to know. His grip tightened, his strokes now came up and over the crown, and his breathing picked up with a light groan. I watched as he tightened the grip on his shaft and pre-cum beaded on the head.

  With his index finger he smeared it around the tiny slit and circled it all over. His thumb came up next and really worked it in good. His glans gleamed in the coating and it seemed that his dick had gotten even bigger. I looked up at Charlie’s face and his eyes were half closed, his mouth hanging open a bit. When I looked back down his strokes had gone full boat from base to over the crown.

  I squeezed my legs together, my own arousal on full blast. I was starting to get light headed as I realized my own breathing had picked up. I brought my free hand up to my breast and started to knead at it, and pinch the nipple. Charlie noticed, and said, “Oh, fuck, that’s hot.” He started to pump his cock harder and faster.

  “Slow down,” I breathed, thoroughly enjoying the show, not wanting this to be over before it started.

  He groaned painfully. “So hard watching you play with your tits,” he said.

  “I can stop,” I said.

  “Don’t you fucking dare.” He smiled at me and then his eyes dropped to my breasts as I pinched and twisted at my darkened nipples. “Oh, daaaamn.”

  He continued to pump his fist on his manhood, slightly twisting when he got to the head, and a squeeze to his balls from time to time. I couldn’t take it, attention to my nipples no longer enough, so I slipped my hand down to my stomach and unbuttoned my jeans. I slid my hand into my panties and instantly my fingers were wetted when I reached my folds. Slick didn’t begin to show how turned on I was. I rubbed my finger over my sensitive nub, never letting my eyes off of Charlie’s hand, which had kept it’s metered pace.

  “Okay, you can go faster,” I directed. And on cue, he started to fist faster, gripping tighter. His spongy head now nearly purple. Charlie was groaning and I glanced at his face to see he totally noticed that my hand had left my breast and was now in my jeans, furiously rubbing.

  Charlie’s legs started to tremble, and his moaning had turned to grunts. I knew those sounds. He was about to blow. My own finger dipped further down and into my entrance then back up, freshly slicked and worked my clit.

  “Let’s go,” I breathed. His eyes, darker than I’ve ever seen them, focused on mine and together, we stroked ourselves into convulsions, and moaning and grunting. Watching as Charlie gripped the base of his cock so tightly as ropy strands of cum shot up and landed on his chest was exhilarating. Spurt after spurt, one landing on my breast, until Charlie’s body started to relax.

  I felt slightly cheated that I didn’t get there, but I didn’t have to worry. Charlie rolled over and yanked my jeans down, throwing my hand aside. He dove between my thighs and licked with a wide spread tongue, two or three times. Pointing that tongue now, he circled the clit, while plunging two fingers deeply into my aching pussy. Wiggling them around, he found the spot he was looking for. My free hands went to my breasts, and gripped painfully. Charlie’s mouth clamped onto my clit and he sucked wildly, his fingers firmly and roughly stroking my G-spot. He moaned onto my clit and I lost it. I cried out and my hips bucked off of the bed. I felt a rush of wet warm us both.

  Charlie licked and licked until I was clean.

  “Best non-acting acting gig I’ve ever had,” he said crawling up to me and pulling me into his arms.

  “You’re a fabulous non-actor actor.”

  We lay there just breathing and being. Basking in the glory of our mutual session and incredible orgasms.

  The rest of Sunday was spent relaxing and getting ready for Monday. I cooked, Charlie studied his lines for the scenes that were being shot tomorrow and Tuesday. I listened intently to his studying and was relieved that there were no lines with kissing. Apparently, the lines he’d used on me, and delivered flawlessly when I recognized them and went off to puke publicly, the director was able to use them and already had them worked into the show.

  Hormonal Phoebe, sexually hormonal Phoebe, sexually-hormonal-and-bossy Phoebe, was my favorite Phoebe ever. She’d been submissive to my raging needs. She’d been an equal to my needs. She’d taken the reins a couple of times in our sexual exploits. But when she got bossy, telling me what she wanted me to do, my dick was a force to be reckoned with. Maybe it was the actor in me. I liked to be told what to do. Not all the time, and I loved being in control of her, but this afternoon was hot. We’d be playing “Director-Actor” again. Soon.

  I was nervous about tomorrow though. Being back on set. I’d gone AWOL from a job before and gone back on, and the director was an ass to me, and I was a dick to him, he’d call Michael and I got an earful. I was carefully planning my return to Cops Undercover. I was going to be awesome. Not just to be different. But I was going to be Charlie. I was going to be the man Phoebe helped me be. Somewhere along the way, she’d had me drop all my self-made rules, and my cocky personality. She had me behaving like someone to be admired, and I liked that feeling very much. Especially when she admired me.

  CHAPTER 40

  Monday, Charlie and I showed up on set at three-ungodly-thirty in the morning. We reported to the Hair and Makeup trailer and they were as bleary eyed as we were. Charlie made a point to wear his “I Wear Pink for My Mom” t-shirt, hoping to soften the blow of the extra work his impulsive head-shaving had caused. The hairdresser was actually very gracious about the whole thing, saying she was impressed that he’d done such a thing to support his mother. Sitting on the make-up counter was a mannequin head with a wig the same color of hair that Charlie’s hair was, minus the highlights. The hairdresser put the wig on Chase’s head, glued it into place, and then started coloring it, using foils, to achieve the natural highlights his hair featured. He looked ridiculous and I took a couple of photos with my phone for posterity. After the highlights were put in, the hairdresser set about cutting it, while comparing photos from the shoot more than a week ago. It was amazing. In about two and half hours, time had been undone, and Charlie had the long locks he used to have. I longed to dive my fingers into the shag, but I was afraid of messing things up.

  By eight, the cast and crew arrived on set, and everyone got busy, wasting no time whatsoever. Charlie was spot-on with his lines and the director asked him why he hadn’t been so on point two weeks ago. Charlie didn’t let it get to him. He just smiled good-naturedly and thanked the director for his patience while he dealt with his family emergency. Monday night I was exhausted and didn’t feel like cooking. We holed ourselves up in his hotel and ordered room service.

  Tuesday was a repeat of Monday, only with a later call time since Hair didn’t have to recut the wig. It was funny watching Charlie go from nearly bald to luscious locks and
back to the micro-buzz all in a day. Wednesday, Charlie had sound booth voice-over work, and when he had to fly back to L.A. late Wednesday, my heart broke.

  I was vaguely aware of paparazzi snapping photos of our tearful goodbye at the limo, but I didn’t care anymore. I would have to get used to them if I was going to be with Charlie. And I was definitely going to be with Charlie. Even if he was Chase to everyone else, and still a little cocky for the public, and slightly full of himself, it was all with a kinder, more thoughtful edge. No longer signing girls’ chests, or flirting with them.

  Wednesday night was horrible. My bed was so empty without Charlie there. I called him and he talked me to sleep. Tomorrow he had three interviews to do, and I promised to DVR him on the Ellen Degeneres Show, Access Hollywood, and The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. I wasn’t sure I would have the energy to stay up for Jay Leno, but I would watch after work on Thursday.

  Thursday I went back to my original internship. Valerie and I spent a good hour reviewing how things had gone with my being a P.A. for Chase, and if I was ever called into the position again, some guidelines, since it was a big part of Public Relations. Certainly, I’d never be sleeping with another talent I might be assigned to, but there were many things I hadn’t done because I was thrust into the role mid-assignment. We reviewed the projects and files I’d started on during the week I had been doing the job I was supposed to do, and what I would be doing with them in the coming weeks.

  “Now, Friday,” she said with a big sigh.

  “I’ll understand if I can’t go. Clearly we have a lot of work to do,” I said, holding up the stack of files we’d just reviewed.

  “Oh, but you’re going,” she said. “Nothing like understanding Public Relations than from the point of view of standing on the red carpet. And post-parties.”

  I was stunned. I was going to be flown to L.A. to wear the morning glory purple, beaded dress. To go to a premiere. And post-parties.

  “And it seems you’re going to need your rest?” she asked, glancing at me cautiously.

  I ducked my head, hot tears jumping from my eyes. Would the shame ever ease up? And why I thought Valerie might have missed those paparazzi photos of Charlie and I going to Dr. Mora’s, I don’t know. I was going to chalk it up to the ‘pregnancy brain’ that the good doctor said tends to happen to pregnant women.

  “Ms. Cocozza. I—”

  “Hey, it happens,” she said, leaning forward and taking my hand. “And please, I think at this point you can call me, Valerie.” I looked at her for a moment. She wasn’t the hard edged corporate-minded woman I knew. Suddenly, this wasn’t a business conversation, at least not entirely. “Clearly it’s not Charlie’s, and truthfully, not my business or important. As for the paparazzi, Michael and I have talked, and we recommend that you and Charlie neither confirm nor deny the photos. Charlie knows the buzz will die out as soon as there’s another juicy headline.” She sat back and took a breath. “So, what are your plans?”

  “Adoption,” I whispered.

  “Smart girl. I wish I’d been that strong and smart back in my day,” she said and looked out the window. I looked at her carefully. Her eyes were glassy and she was more than pensive. What was she saying? “Yes, I was in your position once. I took the ‘easy way’ out,” she said, using air-quotes. “But it’s been anything but easy. I have been haunted by that decision every day for the past nine and a half years.”

  I couldn’t help it. I was stunned. My jaw literally dropped. Had she really been caught by a surprise pregnancy and terminated it? “You…?” I said quietly.

  She nodded and smiled weakly at me. “If there’s anything you need, please ask. I admire you, Phoebe.”

  The rest of the day flew by as I got back in the groove of the files. I decided that I preferred files to being a PA. After work, Jenny and I met up for dinner with Ankur. All day long, my phone would ding with texts from Charlie. I still had the Twitter app silenced.

  At home, I fired up the DVR and watched Charlie’s appearance on Ellen. When she asked him about me, I tensed. Nothing about the doctor’s visit, just his relationship status. “Well, Ellen, you know how when you meet the right person, it changes how you see the world? Well, that’s what it was like when I met Phoebe.” I squealed and fell back on the sofa, rewound it and listened to it again. And again. And watching Access Hollywood the show started with Charlie’s new movie that was premiering tomorrow. The interviewers did ask just a couple of quick questions about me, and Charlie answered them respectfully, and keeping things still private. “She’s the sweetest thing in my life, and I would do anything for her.”

  That night, I couldn’t sleep. Nervous about flying to L.A. for the premiere, so I called Charlie and we watched his appearance on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno together. Of course Jay made a big to do that Chase was off the market. He even went as far as asking when Chase was “gonna put a ring on it.” Charlie looked straight into the camera, and said, “I’ve tried Jay, but she’s got big dreams, and a ring isn’t one of them.” The crowd gave a resounding “Awww,” and Charlie played along with them giving a sad pouty face. “But it’s okay. I’ll wait for her. She’s worth it.”

  “It’s true,” he said into my ear. “I’ll wait.”

  “I know,” was my reply.

  The next morning I woke in a panic. I realized I hadn’t even tried on the gorgeous dress Charlie bought me.

  I scrambled out of bed and found the high-end garment bag/shopping bag hanging in my closet. I noticed for the first time that the dress was from Bergdorf-Goodman’s. I recalled the afternoon my mom and I walked through the swanky store on Fifth Avenue. Carefully I unzipped the bag and pulled out the deep purple, beaded gown. The dress was heavy, simple and extremely sexy.

  I piled my hair up on top of my head and slipped into the backless number. Initially I was worried about the backless construction with my C+ girls, until I realized that there was built in support. And I was thrilled that the dress had a fair amount of spandex in the material, making it cling to my body and made me feel very sexy. But how did I look?

  I lifted the intricate skirt and walked over to the full-length mirror to take in the full effect. My breath was taken away. It was the same color purple as the morning glories on his mother’s gazebo, and set off my peachy skin and blonde hair stunningly. The top was sort of like a tank top, encrusted with clear and purple beads, the sides were accented with cream, although not beaded, so my arms when resting at the sides, weren’t scraped at, and accentuated my waist, making me look practically tiny. The purple of the top flowed into the skirt, where there were several cut outs up to my upper thigh, but instead of exposing skin, there were cream-colored insets. The dress was truly reminiscent of a morning glory.

  I turned and looked at the back of the dress in the mirror. It was cut down to the top of my lower back. I thought about my mother’s necklace with the two pendants, one in front and a complementary one for the back. I rummaged through my modest collection of necklaces to see if I could come up with something similar. When I saw the pieces, I knew.

  I pulled out the short strand of pearls I had gotten for my sixteenth birthday that had a “P” medallion worked into the front, my silver heart pendant, and a simple clear crystal bracelet I picked up at an art festival in Napa. I clipped the clasp of the bracelet onto the loop on the heart, and worked the loop on the bracelet into the clasp on the pearl necklace. I looked in the mirror and the effect was actually quite elegant. The feel of the heart pendant as it hung six inches down my back was very sexy.

  Just then, my phone rang. Expecting it to be Charlie, I didn’t even look at the screen. I answered the call with, “I love this dress. It fits perfectly. How did you know? I can’t wait to stand on the red carpet wearing this with you tonight. I just need a pair of shoes.” I said looking at the floor and noticing how the dress puddled slightly.

  “I might have a pair. What does the dress look like? But I’m sure I don’t have any red carpet events on
my calendar tonight. Does Chase know?” The voice threw me for a minute, before I realized it was my mom.

  “Oh,” I laughed. “I thought you were Charlie,” I explained. I went on to tell her how I was going to be jetting to L.A. in just a couple of hours for the premiere of Charlie’s film, Book Ends. She told me to send her a photo of the dress and she’d see what she had in her closet, since we had the same size feet. She said she could bring them over, and take me to the airport in style with Jack’s limo service.

  When we got off of the phone, I snapped picture of me in front of the mirror wearing the gown and sent it to my mom. In a minute flat, she sent me a text with a photo of the perfect pair of shoes. Beautiful, “lacy,” “booties” made with crystals in a scalloped lace design. In a word they were stunning and thoroughly red carpet worthy.

  I couldn’t wait to see Charlie.

  Being in Los Angeles for a movie premiere was incredible. Charlie expertly brushed off the rude paparazzi and their intrusive questions, and only paid heed to the popular press like Entertainment Tonight, E! and Access Hollywood. We talked to representatives from various talk shows and movie review houses. I even got to answer the famous “Who are you wearing?” question. It was funny to have to go back to calling Charlie “Chase,” but I managed well enough.

  I met Charlie’s co-star, Sydney Young, who apologized for any inconvenience her comments might have made for Chase and me. Sydney was really sweet and I think given the opportunity, we’d be good friends.

  The movie, an adaptation of an erotic romance book, was handled well, even if it was difficult to watch my, now, boyfriend tangled on the giant screen with an amazing body like Sydney Young’s, especially knowing my own body, which had never been the most slender would be changing dramatically over the next several months. The after-parties were insane, meeting celebrities every time I turned around, cameras everywhere and amazing gift bags. By the end of the night, my face hurt from grinning non-stop.