The Mammoth Book of Hot Romance

by Sonia Florens

  He comes straight over to my desk, and pauses, not saying anything, just pursing his lips. I can see complex emotions on his face, shadows in his eyes. Oh hell, this is awkward.

  “Look, this is uncomfortable, isn’t it?” I blurt out, standing up. Innes’ eyes widen as if he was about to say the very same thing. “What happened, happened, but we can be adult about it. I can pretend it never happened, if you can. If that’s what you want. We never have talk about it ever again.” Once it’s out, I feel deflated and ready to sit down again. Innes looks first thunderstruck, and then a bit angry.

  “Well, I can’t pretend it never happened and I want to talk about it. I want to talk about it right now!” He grasps me by the arm, his fingers firm and strong as I remember them from bed. “Let’s have some coffee and sort this out, get it over with.”

  A few minutes later, we’re in his office, sitting in the little conversation area where he chats with important visitors. Innes is on the sofa beside me, instead of the chair opposite. He’s far too close for comfort, and just being near to him is both agony and ecstasy. He looks as tense as I feel, and he seems to be missing his usual poise and self-possession.

  He launches into it, just as I did. “Look, Cally, I’ve just been over to Woodburn House and spoken to Philip Hastings. He’s looking for a new PA because his girl is going overseas with her husband.” He reaches towards his coffee on the low table in front of us then snatches back his hand. I’ve never seen him nervous before, and if this wasn’t such awkward situation, I’d almost find it funny. “It’s a step up, with some management responsibilities. but the job’s yours if you want it. Starting immediately.” He plucks at the knee of his beautifully tailored trousers. “It’s a nice salary hike too – a great opportunity.”

  I reach for my coffee and sip it. I’m trying to stay calm, trying to focus on a hopeful gleam in his eyes and pray that I’ve interpreted it correctly.

  “Ah, so you’re getting rid of me.” I eye him levelly, watching his dear face and the little telltales of stress and … and understanding. “Well, that’ll work. With me over at Woodburn House, and working in a different division, we’ll rarely see each other, possibly never. No awkward moments at all.”

  His eyes narrow, but he’s smiling. “We won’t see each other during the day, Florence –” he suddenly winks “– but I was rather hoping that we’d see a lot of each other … a hell of lot of each other, the rest of the time.” He reaches across, takes the coffee cup out of my hand, then lifts my fingers to his lips and dusts a kiss on them. “I might have a flu relapse if I don’t get regular nursing … and therapy.”

  This was what I was hoping for, dreaming of. I love working with Innes but I love being with him, and simply loving him, much, much more.

  “You’ve got it all worked out, boss, haven’t you?” I give him a narrow, teasing look. “So sure I’ll fall in with your schemes.”

  “But I’m not your boss any more … Or I soon won’t be.” He kisses my palm, then tugs on my hand, drawing me closer and closer to him. “The choice is yours, Cally, believe me, always yours.”

  Our faces are almost touching. I can kiss the cool, firm line of his jaw, the arc of his cheekbone, or the plush curve of his lower lip, if I want to.

  And I want to. I hook my hand around the back of his head, and kiss him hard. This is fraternization, office romance, but who cares now?

  “OK, I choose you,” I gasp against his hot mouth as we part, just barely. Time to go for broke, now or never. “Because whether you like it or not, boss, I love you.”

  “Consider me chosen, Nurse Florence,” he growls and kisses back, just as hard. “I love you too.”

  From now on, it’ll be Christmas every day.

  Lust on Set

  Sèphera Girón

  When I heard that I was going to be in a movie with a rather well-known up and coming actor, Paul McKenzie, I looked him up on the internet. Funny how I was familiar with his work and had been hanging in the same circles as him for many years, yet our paths had never actually crossed.

  The realm of the fantastic spreads wide and there are many opportunities to meet people. There are conventions, readings, screenings, award ceremonies, message boards, Twitter and other social network sites. As a result, we had a mutual friend who was making a low-budget movie and was looking for peers who had acting experience as well as casting bona fide “real” actors. I was surprised to get the call that he wanted me in the movie and was excited as hell to do it. I’d done a couple of small movies, been an extra in some big ones and had decades of community theatre under my belt.

  It was easy to see why Paul had been cast for the movie. His twenty-nine-year-old countenance was not hard on the eyes at all. His MySpace profile picture showed a lean angular face with the twitch of a smirk and playful blue eyes. Well, at first those eyes looked playful, but, on closer examination, I was distracted by a distant longing. There were other pictures of him on his site. He had a good portfolio of model shots with him darkly brooding or boyishly grinning. In all of them, there was something going on behind his eyes that spoke of seeing too much. Like someone who has gone through a war. Painful secrets and broken hearts.

  I was mostly known for my four-book vampire series, Eternal Crypt. Other creepy renderings had made me rather notorious in the dark fiction crowd, but tenacity and decades of consistently publishing also gives me cred. He had fans, I had fans. Our director was wise in pooling talent with fan bases from different aspects of the fantastical genre.

  Paul at twenty-nine was roaring into life. I myself had been around the block a few times and, though not quite as enamoureof some experiences I had been part of in the past, I still was looking for that elusive something that could make my blood sing. Complacency leads to death.

  Although I enjoyed his online looks, I never really considered that anything would come of my appreciation, as I was substantially older than him and not the hottest broad on the block. Perhaps I could squeak by as voluptuous but I’m a rather fleshy lady at the best of times. I never was sure if wearing baggy T-shirts was better or worse for my appeal, although I have been known to squish myself into a corset with excellent results.

  After weeks of admiring him online, the star of many a self-induced, multi-orgasmic fantasy, it was at last time to meet.

  The first moment I saw him, when I was walking in from the hotel parking lot, he was leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette. His tall lean form slouched like Jimmy Dean and he had bad boy written all over him. Even though I was prepared for who he was, my legs trembled just the same. I grinned as I shook his hand and looked into those troubled blue eyes for real.

  Clear and vibrant, that sad haunting was just as clear in real life as it was in the photos. I wanted to hug him in my arms and kiss him better. I wanted to press my naked body against his, taking away whatever sorrow he was hiding. I was horny for him already and he had barely said hello. Poor guy. But I pushed my lusty thoughts down.

  His eyes belied his infectious enthusiasm. We quickly discussed how excited we were to be in the movie. It was a low-budget horror flick and other assorted scream queens and dark fantasy artists, writers, and special effects artists were involved. We talked about the movie and our work and how many mutual friends we had. Our director returned with other actors and we all piled into the van to go to lunch.

  We were to eventually meet with several other actors for a rehearsal at the director’s house. Both Paul and I were from out of town, and quite distant by several states. We’d been brought in for a day of meetings and rehearsals before several weeks of gruelling filming were to begin a couple of months later.

  After lunch, the director took us to one of the warehouse locations and we walked through it as he pointed out which scenes would happen where. All of us spent the afternoon bonding and discussing set-ups and despite how I tried to make friends with the others, my attention was always drawn back to Paul.

  The rehearsal went well but I was d
ismayed to discover that we’d never have scenes together and, in fact, wouldn’t even be in town at the same time. It seemed like it was one of those things where perhaps we would just be ships that passed in the night once more.

  After the rehearsal, a bunch of us went out for drinks, and stood around the bar as we had a great time telling stories. I was being billeted at someone’s house, as was Paul. But not the same house. And I had to leave in the morning.

  I’m sure he noticed me staring at him, hanging on to his every word, as I wondered why the laughter didn’t quite reach his eyes. His arm did brush against mine a few times as we stood around the bar and, as jaded as I am, the warmth of his touch fluttered through me, stirring up my libido against my better judgment. I wanted to believe that some of our more playful glances at each other contained a deeper subtext, but despite our enthusiasm, the reality was that I was about fifteen years older than him.

  With his rising fame as an artist, he already had the pick of the hottest babes. An older vampire writer likely wasn’t on the menu when there was fresh, tender, tight flesh.

  The more animated he became, the more quiet I grew. I didn’t even try to captivate him, letting the beer flow through me, and settled into observances much see a cat patiently surveying the lie of the land. Of course, writers tend to do that anyway. We’ll suddenly stop engaging in a group scene only to ponder some quirk of human nature that inspires attention. He commanded centre stage easily with boisterous stories and was admired by women and men alike for both his wit and charisma. He was just funny enough for the entertainment industry, still fresh enough to be amusing and not over-rehearsed like the more jaded actors I’ve met over the years.

  I sipped and observed, working my way through several glasses of draught interspersed with water. A girl needs to keep her flesh hydrated so water was always consumed after every beer or two. As he spoke, I stared at him, imagining his mouth pressed against mine, pushing me back on to some large fluffy pillows somewhere. I’m sure my eyes betrayed the nasty thoughts I conjured while I watched the evening’s activities unfold. I wondered if it was possible to simply will a man to kiss you, but I knew from decades of experience that it wasn’t likely.

  By the time I said goodnight to him, I was in full-blown lust and wished that it wouldn’t be too forward to ask him back to my place. However, it wasn’t my place to ask him to and I had no idea if he felt any connection to me besides being “that vampire writer” who’s also in the movie. I didn’t even have any beer to lure him over with. So that was the end of that.

  Of course, now that I’d actually met Paul in the flesh, felt his charisma wash over me, his intellect intrigue me, and wondering when I’d hear the story about what haunted him, thoughts of him flitted through my head with new vim; while I was writing, while I was at the grocery store, while I was driving. I’d go to his website and look at the rehearsal pictures, and wonder if he ever thought about me at all.

  By the time filming started a few weeks later, the shooting list was out and my scenes were to be shot a couple of days before his were to start. I did learn there would be one day of our presence in the same city, as he came in early to prepare and I had the next day to unwind before I left.

  There were several homes where people were crashing, which is rather the norm for a B-movie experience. I was set up with other people from my scene in one house. Other actors who appeared in the other section of the movie were staying at another house about a mile away. Paul was one of them.

  As the days ticked by and my scenes were shot, I lamented over ever seeing him at all during my time on the set. If he was able to get to the set to see what it was like, how on earth would I ever get him to stay? There wasn’t really a place where everyone went to unwind together. Since most people were local and the days were so long, they just went home to bed.

  Lunch was late because there were difficult lighting issues for each shot. As I stood around the green room, munching on a sandwich, I saw him come in. He was escorted by a couple of the PAs and was being introduced around. When they came to me, I hugged him close to me. He was so thin and so real.

  I stepped back and welcomed him to the set. We chit-chatted a little while and I asked if he wanted to see if a bunch of us could go for drinks later. He seemed up for that. Before long, the PAs were ready to escort him to another one of the locations that he would be working in. We exchanged cell phone numbers just in case we didn’t meet again.

  During one of my last scenes, he came back to the set to see what was going on. He watched the last of the scenes wind up and a small group of us decided to go out for drinks to celebrate a successful wrap. Well, for those of us that had finished our scenes. Paul had yet to begin his days on the set.

  We ordered dinner and soon the beer was poured in abundance. The more we drank, the more we laughed. I found myself catching Paul’s eye as we shared in the joviality. My confidence was higher, likely inspired by my successful delivery on set. I played a predatory temptress in the movie and it was hard to switch gears after living it for days though I have to admit, it wasn’t a very big stretch for me.

  After I watched him going outside for a cigarette for the third or fourth time, I decided to join him. He was chatting to someone from the pub about the movie and I approached them. A quick round of introductions, a bit of movie chatter and, soon, the stranger left.

  “I just came out for some air,” I told him.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” he said, and it was. We stared up at the sky and he started to talk about how excited he was to start the movie. I told him how I had had a great experience and he would too. I watched him speak, the way he grinned, the way he told stories effortlessly and his ability to make me laugh. His eyes glinted in the street light and I thought of the darkness of a bedroom.

  “I love this time of year,” he sighed as he put out his cigarette. “Seems a shame to go back in, but we must.”

  He took my hand as we returned to our friends who were starting to leave.

  Four of us stayed until long after hours, one of them being Randy, our designated driver. The bartender had taken a shine to the movie people and let us continue to party with him and his buddies until the wee hours. The tequila shooters came out and my confidence magnified.

  By then, I was sitting close to Paul and I casually draped my hand into his lap. He didn’t flinch away. I turned to look at him and smiled. He grinned back and leaned over to kiss me.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. His lips were softer than I would have expected and I eagerly sucked on his for a pulse or two before pushing him away.

  “Now, now,” I said. He winked at me and drank his beer. My heart raced at the thrill of his impulsiveness. I vaguely wondered what the others thought but several pints of beer had rendered me incapable of caring. As I thought about a harmless kiss, he kissed me again, fully and completely. This time he did take my breath away.

  I excused myself to go to the washroom. Once in the ladies’ room, I washed my hands and stared at my face. I figured the beer goggles must be working for the poor boy. I wasn’t looking exactly young for my age at this hour of the morning. I freshened up my lipstick and fixed my hair. I returned to the table where everyone was laughing about something Paul was saying. I sat back down and Paul’s attention turned back to me. I was to regale the barkeep with tales of my days of shooting, which I did rather easily.

  The night began to shift into morning, slashes of the coming dawn filtering through the blinds.

  “Can you believe how late it is?” I asked my friends. Everyone nodded and continued to drink.

  There came that point where we didn’t want to leave but knew that we should since Paul began shooting the next day, that day, in a few hours. I was sad that I wouldn’t see him again or at least for a few months until the movie premiere or some convention.

  I sat in the back of the car with him, saying that our tall friend with long legs should sit in the front. I scooted close to Paul and we kiss
ed some more. By then, I didn’t care what our friends in the front seat had to say.

  I wondered how we could stay together for the rest of the night, despite the late hour. Even cuddling together on a cot would be heavenly. My hands cupped his face, wishing that there was some way we didn’t have to part so soon, wishing I could tell him what I wanted to say but couldn’t.

  We pulled up to the house where he was staying, and we all said our goodbyes. He reached into his jeans and pulled out his for the front door and I leaned into him. It fell from his fingers and on to the floor of the car. We both bent over to pick it up, nearly smashing our heads together like the Three Stooges. I spotted the key before him and quickly picked it up. I cupped it in my hand before he could see that I had found it. I pretended to continue to look for it as he lifted the mat. Our designated driving friend, Randy, turned on the dome light but try as we might, there was no key to be found by our feet.

  I slipped the key into my pocket while we all left the car and tried to find a way into the locked house where everyone was asleep. We didn’t want to make too much noise and upset the actors but tried to find a loose window. There was no way to break in so we all piled back into the car.

  When we returned to the house where I was staying, I wondered if it would be possible to entice him. My room was upstairs, along with two other bedrooms with occupants. There was someone already asleep on the folding couch in the living room. The other living room couch was the spot for one of our friends and Randy had another small room just off the kitchen that was someone’s home office. While I tiptoed into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water, Randy whisked Paul into a little porch room off the other side of the kitchen and blew up an airbed for him.

  When Randy returned to the living room without Paul, I assumed Paul was safely tucked away for the night. Randy gave me a look, as if he dared me to disturb the actor due on set in a few hours. I sighed and crept upstairs in the darkness, trying not to disturb anyone in what was now a strangely silent house.