Indecent Encounter: The Silverhaus Affair

by M. S. Parker

  She must’ve suspected something from the goofy grin on my face and the way I was eyeing her, because she glanced down at her robe, and then back at me with a smile. But she made no effort to pull it shut.

  “Well, anyway, sorry I slept the whole way home,” she said. “I never got a chance to ask you how you feel.”

  “Like an ass,” I said honestly. “I never should’ve let April anywhere near you.”

  “No,” she said, “I meant about the film. You finally took control of things. That’s…”

  Her words faded into the background. I was mesmerized when she stood and her long hair flowed around her shoulders. Talking about the film was the last thing on my mind as her loose robe fell open again.

  Her eyes dipped down to follow my gaze, and when they returned to my face I saw a heated passion that sent my blood rocketing.

  I was across the room in two strides, and then her body was flush against mine. The robe parted completely before our lips touched, and when I realized it was Chelsea who held open the ties, the rush of desire sent my happy cock into overdrive. I grabbed her ass and pressed my hips against her naked skin.

  The groan I swallowed escaped as a low growl. I slipped my hands inside the robe, and across the curve of her lower back. The robe created an alluring effect, but I wanted her naked so I could relish every inch of her. I practically tore it off her shoulders, and in one toss, it was cast aside. I continued my exquisite torture, running my hands up and down her soft flesh, panting hard against her lips as our kiss deepened. Her tongue slid along mine, twisted around it.

  She wrapped her arms around my neck and lifted against me. I dragged my hands down her tight ass to her silken thighs and pulled her legs up around my waist. Holding her, I managed the three steps to the bed and lowered us together, lost in the ecstasy of her indescribable spell.

  When I stood up to peel off my shirt and pants, my heart was pounding and my head was spinning with the sight of her. This happened every time I was close to her. I was totally enraptured, like I was falling, uncontrollably falling, into some wonderful warm place, like I was falling right into her.

  She lay on the bed, her arms flung over her head, a smile playing around her kiss-swollen lips. I froze, breathless from the sight of her. She was so beautiful. I felt her burn away every silly worry, absolutely everything that had ever seemed important. In this moment, there was no one else but her.

  My cock throbbed harder and my mouth was dry with anticipation. I wanted to taste her, bury my face between her legs and pleasure her until she screamed my name. Her lush mouth widened as I lowered myself to the bed and pressed my aching cock against the softness of her thighs. Lost in a steamy cloud of desire, I locked my gaze on her eyes. Reaching for her hand I guided it to her wet pussy. Without breaking my gaze I pushed her finger against her clit and made her touch herself, then pushed her finger deeper into the fold. Wet with her arousal, I drew her finger back to her lips and made her taste it.

  “This is what I live for,” I said huskily. “See how wet you are for me?”

  I rubbed her fingers around her full, red lips and pressed one finger inside her mouth.

  “Now suck on it.” She complied, her plush lips closing around her own finger, cheeks hollowing out as she sucked.

  The sight of it was so hard-core, so seductive, I had to part my lips for a breath of air. It made me think of when I'd watched her lips around my cock as she'd sucked me off in the kitchen. Damn.

  “Does it taste sweet? I bet it does. I can’t wait to taste you.” I panted the words, barely able to concentrate on anything except the fire racing through my veins, and the endorphins showering my brain.

  She released her finger with a gasp as my hand found its way to her hot core. I caressed her, fingers sliding over and between her folds, and she arched, her head rolling to the side, an airy moan escaping her parted lips.

  Damn, I loved that sound.

  I shimmied down her twisting torso, my hands trailing over her breasts to catch her hardened nipples for a tweak before raking across the flat expanse of her stomach.

  I kissed her bare mound as I pushed her legs open. She was so beautiful. Every inch of her. I spread her pussy open with one hand and slid a finger inside. She felt so good as I stroked in and out, fucking her with my finger, teasing her, knowing she wanted more pressure on her clit, wanted more of me.

  I loved the way she arched and wiggled when I fingered her, when I touched her. I loved how she responded to me. I exhaled a raspy sound and quickly added another finger and stroked her again, curling my fingers to rub against the top of her. Ah, she’s so tight…and wet…

  She moaned again and wiggled more, making those little high-pitched sounds that made blood rush to my already-hard cock. The noises spurred me on, and I splayed my left palm out on her abdomen, pulling her skin tight and spreading her pussy lips even more to make that hard little nub pop out even farther.

  Then finally, I was ready to taste her, I continued stroking her with two fingers as I buried my face in her wet flesh like I was devouring the most luscious dessert. I licked. I flicked. I swirled my tongue, and she gasped and writhed. I pressed harder with my left palm, trying to hold her rocking hips in place, reminding her who was in control. She didn’t get to rise up to meet my tongue. She had to take my direction and wait for it as I decided. It would make her orgasm more explosive.

  She clawed at the sheets, desperate for what I had to give her. Desperate for me. Not because I had money or because she wanted something from me. Just me.

  “That’s my little nymph.” I stopped my tongue long enough to talk, but kept my fingers stroking. “You like that don’t you?”

  She let out a long exhale that was almost answer enough. I still needed her to say it though.

  “Say it.”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes…”

  “Tell me how you like it. Like this?” I flicked my tongue across her swollen clit.

  “Oh, god, yes, like that.”

  “Yes, who?”

  “Yes, Alex. I like it.”

  I gave her a couple of reward licks, loving the way my name sounded on her tongue. But I wanted more.

  “No, tell me how you like it. Talk dirty to me. It’ll make my cock so hard for you.” It was true. The thought of sweet, shy little Chelsea saying anything even the least bit dirty was already turning me on.

  She smiled, a sensual smile that was pure sex. “Lick me, Alex. I want your tongue on me…on my clit. I want you to lick it harder while you fuck me with your fingers.”

  The words all came out in a hot, wet gush and although I’d thought this would be kind of hot, the effect on me was more than I’d anticipated. I had to fuck her now. My cock was about to explode. I swallowed hard and buried my face between her legs again, wanting to bring her right to the edge before I slid inside her and made her come.

  Just as she was arching and twisting against my face, I rose up on my knees and grabbed my cock ready to drive it in and push her over the edge. I’d never wanted anyone as much as I wanted Chelsea. And as I thrust inside her, I let everything go. I closed my eyes and drove in deep, hunched over her heaving chest, falling and falling into a state of sheer bliss, falling into my Chelsea. I heard her gasp, and she clawed at my shoulders when she came, but I was too lost in pleasure to acknowledge the pain. She clenched around me, and I called out her name as I exploded inside her.

  I had to tell her. I rolled to her side and pulled her into my arms, cuddling her close in the narrow little bed. I traced a finger along her chin and she smiled up at me, her head nestled on my shoulder.

  I kissed the top of her head and said it the only way I knew how. “You’re mine, beautiful. No one else but you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Alex

  The mind-blowing sex with Chelsea stayed in my mind like a lucky charm the rest of the night. That was the kind of “welcome home” I could live with forever. I held tightly to the memory of her kisses an
d her body as investors yelled at me over the phone, but numbed by the pleasure of our night together, their heated remarks simply bounced off me.

  At first.

  My post-sex high cushioned me from taking to heart any of what they had to say at the beginning, but with each hour that passed, and each added phone call, my positive outlook melted away like a snowman in July.

  My production team estimated how much time we’d lose to reshoots, even after I'd cut down April's part, and I added up how much firing April would cost the film. It was an unfortunately high amount. Henry called three separate times, threatening, coercing, and bargaining. By the time I emerged from my office, I saw that it was two o’clock in the morning, and I was a fucking mess.

  The next morning was no better as my phone started ringing at four, and by eight o’clock, I was using both hands to prop up my head. I stared at the spreadsheet of the film’s budget on my computer screen, still not sure how to save my movie.

  “It can’t be that bad.” The sound of a voice tore my eyes away from the computer screen. There was Chelsea, standing at my office door with a mug of coffee and a big smile.

  “Well, four of our six major investors pulled out, and we stand to lose two months while we reshoot,” I said, letting my head drop to the desk with a solid thunk. I kept it there until Chelsea set the coffee down. Only then did I sit up and look into her beautiful face.

  I reached for her hand and said, “But on a lighter note, it’s always a pleasure to see your smile first thing in the morning.” I pressed my lips to the back of her hand and she looked down at me with a grin that lit up my day. “You must be psychic. I was in desperate need of coffee.” Then I glanced at the computer screen and said, “Or maybe a gun to shoot my brains out. This budget is killing me.”

  Chelsea leaned down and gave me a light kiss and whispered, “Don’t tell the boss I just did that.” Then she straightened and turned to the budget showing on the computer screen. “Well let’s see…” She propped a hand on one hip and studied the spreadsheet for a minute. “How about you trim the budget and cut a few corners?”

  “I could hack off entire limbs of the project and these two figures would never meet,” I said, pointing to the spreadsheet.

  Chelsea plopped down on the corner of the desk and swung her foot back and forth as she thought. She had a thoughtful expression on her face. “What if you condensed the story into one night and shot it in one house?”

  I slouched in my chair and took a sip of the strong coffee, hoping it’d clear my brain fog. “What do you mean?”

  “A lot of April’s scenes were backstory, right? If you adjust the timeline of the script down to one night, it would cut out the flashbacks completely. Just have the information come out in dialogue, conversation between characters, something like that,” she said.

  I thought for a moment. “Mmm, I don’t know. Will the audience get it? I mean, what about character development? How’d that work? I need to show what the character is like.”

  “People understand inferences, especially about other people’s baggage. Don’t underestimate your audience,” she said. “You don’t have to beat them over the head with details about a character for them to get it.”

  I sat up and took another long sip before I said, “Tell me what you said about the house again?”

  Chelsea smiled and stood up. “If the movie takes place in one night the characters don’t even need to leave the house. Maybe it could be like a dinner party or something. It's the relationship that's your story. The rest is just superfluous.”

  “If we did that, we could cut back the set budget, the location permits, and all the extra set dressing,” I said, feeling the caffeine hit my blood at the same time her ideas took hold. I sat up straight. “That just might work.”

  “Good luck,” she said.

  I caught her flat look and felt a wave of guilt. I should’ve paid more attention to her instead of just talking so much business. Especially since she looked especially delectable this morning. Her hair was down today and it moved seductively as she walked to the door.

  “Hey, wait. Come back,” I said.

  She shook her head and her hair spilled over her shoulder. Was she wearing it down on my account? I hoped so.

  “Your hair, you look…beautiful today,” I said.

  Chelsea tipped her head and said, “I didn’t come in here to distract you. I just wanted to deliver your coffee. It’s what I do. Don’t feel bad about working.”

  She didn't sound angry, but...

  “Thanks. It’s just…I mean…last night was wonderful. And before that,” I said, my mouth going dry. Shit. This was harder than it should've been. “Do we need to talk?”

  “Not right now.” She paused, and then added, “Not unless you think we do?”

  I ran a hand through my hair, my head buzzing with half-finished thoughts. I knew Chelsea had concerns about her being my employee, but I looked at her and thought that maybe it didn’t have to be complicated. What we had going seemed to be working fine for us.

  “How about later?” I asked. “I mean, it would be nice to spend a little more time with you just to relax.”

  She gave me a shy smile and said, “Okay. Maybe a nightcap?”

  “It’s a date,” I said.

  I felt a wild flight of hope that maybe we could make this work. If we saw each other during our free time, it would be more like a relationship than an affair between employer and employee.

  At least, I hoped Chelsea would see it that way.

  * * *

  Chelsea

  Alex’s eyes lit up and followed me as I entered the dining room with a loaded tray. As I took the sandwiches to the buffet, I realized he was watching me with a silly grin on his face. Just staring, as if he wasn’t even listening to what the production team was saying. They were in the middle of a lunch meeting, and Alex had been in the middle of explaining the changes when he'd suddenly stopped talking so he could watch me carry in this dumb tray of sandwiches.

  He snapped his attention back to the group, cleared his throat, and said, “So, in the hopes of saving the production, and further off-screen drama, I fired April Temple.” He held up a hand, palm out as if anticipating moans and groans from the group. “Yes, I know, it has a direct effect on the budget and unfortunately, the majority of investors have left, but I believe we can still create a quality film. One that will be much better for the absence of Ms. Temple.”

  I glanced around the table at their faces, expecting to see shock and astonishment, but there was none. Maybe, secretly, they were as relieved as I was to see April go. It was nice to know that there were some men with decent taste out there after all.

  From the corner of my eye I saw Alex watching me again as I worked, fetching drinks for the group. It was unnerving, and I couldn’t read his expression. He frowned for a moment, and I quickly flicked my glance away. I didn't want him to think that I was being nosy. As I turned to hand someone a fresh water glass, I reminded myself that this was work. No flirting now. I had to keep a distance.

  “Alex,” the director continued. “I think the crew is willing to stay if you have a solid plan.”

  Suddenly, Alex’s eyes were beaming at me again, this time blasting a hole in my resolution. He smiled slowly, and there was something in that smile that froze me in my tracks.

  Oh, shit.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” he said, and stood. “Thanks to the creative thinking of our newest team member.” Alex turned to me for some reason I didn't understand. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Chelsea Carerra.”

  I shot him a horrified look, but forced it into a smile as everyone turned to consider me. I wiped my hands on my apron and gave a weak wave.

  “Chelsea is a student here to work for the summer, but she’s also a talented writer. If you look at the synopsis I gave you, you’ll see her ideas for the script will save us enough time and money to keep going, while still maintaining the integrity of the storyline
.”

  Everyone’s heads swiveled back to the table, and I took a few deep breaths, glad the spotlight wasn’t on me anymore. Alex smiled at me over the long table and it felt like a warm embrace, giving me enough courage to stay where I was and not run out of the room.

  He gestured to an empty chair and then sat down. “When you’re done, Chelsea, grab a plate and a seat. We’ve got lots to talk about.” He turned his attention back to the script laying open next to his plate.

  When I'd walked into the room, I'd been nothing but another faceless worker, but now I was going to be sitting down with Hollywood big-wigs to discuss a script.

  While I was still wearing my uniform.

  Awkward, to say the least. Why hadn’t Alex just invited me to the meeting ahead of time and let Jamison handle the lunch duties? Well, it was what it was, and it'd just look worse if I ran out to change my clothes. I grabbed a sandwich and sat down at the table. There wasn't anything wrong with being a hard worker.

  “So you’re suggesting we take out all the flashbacks?” the director of photography asked me. “You do realize that film is a visual medium and not everything can be conveyed in dialogue, right?”

  Okay, hadn't been expecting a direct question so soon.

  “Yes,” I said, swallowing hard, “but I think the essence of the flashbacks, the emotional ties and complications, can be shown through cutaways to the characters. How they look at each other, avoid certain topics, body language, and that sort of thing.”

  The two writers nodded in understanding, and Alex said, “If we all agree this structure works, then we can go ahead with the investors we have, and not stretch the budget beyond what’s already working.”

  This was a whole new side of Alex, and I was definitely liking it.

  Within the hour, he had every possible problem broken into categories and assigned to sections of the team. As we broke into brainstorming groups, I stood and wondered where to go. Just as I was moving toward the writers, the set designer stopped me.