Chasing Dreams

by Susan Lewis

  Ellen stayed where she was, waiting to see what he wanted. Stooping, he took her by the elbows and raised her to her feet. Then, lowering his head, he took each of her nipples into his mouth and sucked hard. His fingers were sliding between her legs and finding her so ready for him he lifted his head and looked intensely into her eyes. ‘Soon,’ he whispered.

  Ellen’s breath shuddered inside her as he led her to the couch and bent her over the back of it until her hands were resting on the cushions. Then parting her legs he stood to one side and stroked the velvety softness of her rear and inner thighs. Then quite suddenly he dealt a stinging blow to her buttocks. Ellen gasped and bit down on her lips as the blows continued to come, faster and harder, until at last he was standing behind her, lowering his jeans to his knees and burying himself so deep inside her her legs would have given out had he not been holding her up.

  ‘Is this good for you, babe?’ he panted, thrusting with all his might. ‘Tell me this is good for you.’

  ‘It’s good for me,’ she choked. ‘Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.’

  ‘I’m there, honey,’ he told her, banging brutally into her. ‘I’m right there. Come with me. Come now! Christ Almighty,’ he seethed. He was pumping so hard he was almost lifting her from the floor. Ellen struggled to raise her head, but he held her down and drove himself in deeper and harder until finally his seed began spurting fast and hot into her.

  She turned to watch him in the mirror. His head was thrown back, his eyes were closed, his teeth bared and with one hand he was still holding her down. He was almost spent now and as his head fell forward he drew her up in his arms and crushed her against him.

  ‘You’re the best,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Do you know that? You’re just the best.’

  Ellen turned her head, searching for his mouth and found it. His breath was still laboured, but he kissed her softly and tenderly.

  ‘We’re so good together,’ he told her, taking her breasts in his hands. ‘So fucking good.’

  Ellen waited until he had withdrawn, then turning, she put her arms around him. ‘Want to take a bath?’ she offered, smiling into his eyes.

  ‘Sounds good,’ he murmured and hiking his jeans up he took the hand she was holding out and allowed her to lead him to the bathroom.

  The candles were still flickering in the jasmine-scented steam and when he saw the giant tub with four seats carved into the marble and jacuzzi jets concentrated in all directions he started to laugh.

  ‘This is one hell of a place you’ve got here,’ he told her as she started to undress him.

  Ellen smiled, kissed him briefly on the mouth, then pushed him back in a chair to take off his boots.

  A few minutes later they were both stretched out, facing each other in the hot, steamy water. Slender, sharp jets of air were pummelling their bodies and as Ellen opened her legs so they could massage her there, she closed her eyes and allowed her imagination to take over. She could feel him watching her as the pulsating rhythm began carrying her towards climax. Her back arched and she ran a hand across her soap-covered breasts, pinching her nipples and starting to moan aloud.

  Clay was smiling as he watched her. ‘You going to come again?’ he asked.

  Ellen nodded, then her body began to jar as the first spasms of orgasm erupted inside her. Her legs opened wider, her head rolled from side to side and her hands reached out to grip the handles beside her. Knowing he was watching her was making it all the more powerful and when his hand slid along the inside of her thigh she gasped and cried out loud.

  ‘Come here,’ he whispered, when finally she relaxed and opened her eyes.

  Ellen moved through the water and lay in his arms, her cheek resting on the wet, matted hair of his chest, one arm circled around his neck.

  ‘Love you,’ he said softly.

  Ellen kissed his chest. ‘Can you stay tonight?’ she asked.

  He laughed. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Did you think I was going someplace else?’

  She smiled. ‘No, I guess not,’ she answered.

  Tilting her face up to his he said, ‘I swear it won’t be like this for much longer. Nola’s about ready to settle and when she does we’ll be just weeks away from making it all legal.’

  ‘And then?’ she said.

  He kissed her. ‘I’ll take you out to dinner to celebrate.’

  Laughing, Ellen reached for a towel and climbed out of the tub. ‘Your turn to cook,’ she told him. ‘I got chicken breasts and a couple of different salads from the deli and there’s some orange ice-cake for dessert.’

  ‘Did I die and go to heaven?’ he asked, smiling up at her. ‘That comes later,’ she promised. ‘Now, I’ve got some last minute reading to do before I meet with Ted in the morning. Call me when dinner’s ready.’

  Much later they were sitting together at opposite ends of the couch, reading while Schubert’s Eighth played softly on the stereo.

  It was during the andante con moto that Clay turned over a page of the paper and said, ‘You still reading up on that guy Forgon’s after?’

  ‘Mmm,’ Ellen answered.

  ‘So what’s the big deal?’ he asked. ‘What’s bugging Forgon that he’s got to go after the man?’

  Ellen grimaced. ‘It’s a long story,’ she warned, turning to look at him. ‘Are you sure you want to hear it?’

  He shrugged. ‘If it’s bothering you as much as it seems to be, then sure I want to hear it,’ he said. ‘Remind me, what’s the guy’s name?’

  ‘McCann. Michael McCann. He’s British.’

  ‘Lives here?’

  ‘No. London. And that’s what I’ve got to try to change, because Ted Forgon wants him here in Hollywood so, professionally at least, he can kill him. The problem is, McCann’s not interested in coming.’ She paused as her heart tightened with misgiving. ‘Correction. The problem is, if I fail to get him to come I can kiss goodbye to everything I’ve worked for, because Forgon doesn’t keep losers on his team, nor does he let them work again once he’s kicked them off. He’s already fired three agents for not delivering McCann, so I guess there’s no confusion about where I’m headed if I don’t pull this off.’

  ‘So what did this guy do to make Forgon so mad?’ Clay asked, turning to face her and resting a cheek on one hand.

  Ellen sighed and lowered the file to her lap. ‘A couple of years back McCann pulled off a deal, here in Hollywood, for some unknown British actor to play the lead in a movie that ended up winning six Oscars and making everyone involved a fortune at the box office. The movie was Mainliner.’

  Clay looked impressed. ‘I guess we’re talking about Nick Quillan,’ he said, naming the actor.

  Ellen nodded. ‘It made Quillan’s career. At least here it did. From what I’ve heard he was already pretty well established in Europe. Anyway, that was great for Nick Quillan, but not for Dennis Simes.’

  ‘Dennis Simes? The Redneck Roadster?’ Clay cried. ‘What the hell ever happened to him?’

  ‘He couldn’t get any work after the Roadster, is what happened to him,’ Ellen answered. ‘But then Forgon heard about Mainliner, told Simes it would make a great come-back movie for him, did a handshake deal with the producers and told Simes the part was his. Of course, the press got hold of it, I think someone from our office was told to tip them off, and the multi-million dollar deal Forgon had pulled off for Simes whose career was supposed to be finished, made headlines. So of course the whole town was talking about how the old Forgon magic was as hot as ever and parties and press conferences were laid on to celebrate Simes’s return.’ She shook her head as though she still couldn’t quite believe what her boss had done. ‘It was a really dumb thing to do,’ she said, ‘to start spreading the word like that before the ink was on the page. But it’s what he did. And right off the bat Simes started calling up all his friends and telling them what a great guy Forgon was … I’m surprised you don’t remember any of this,’ she said. ‘It made most of the papers at the time.’

  �
��I do now you’re telling it,’ Clay responded. ‘So how did McCann manage to get the deal? I mean, Forgon must have been pretty sure of his ground to have done what he did. I mean the guy’s not stupid.’

  ‘Forgon had a deal,’ Ellen reminded him. ‘OK, it was just a handshake until the contract was typed up, but he knew Alistair Peeke, the exec. producer, pretty well, they’d done business together plenty of times in the past, so Forgon didn’t see any reason not to trust him. I guess it’s a mistake any of us could make, but being the old cynic he is it’s a surprising one from Forgon. And I’m betting McCann knew nothing about that handshake and Peeke never told him. Peeke, by the way, is of Irish stock, just like McCann and Quillan.’

  Clay’s eyebrows went up. ‘Sounds like Forgon never stood a chance,’ he commented.

  Ellen shrugged. ‘Maybe, maybe not,’ she said. ‘It certainly seems Peeke was holding out for Quillan all along, but the studio boys were dragging their heels. No one had ever heard of Quillan so why the hell were they going to stake thirty million on a guy who could lead them all to their deaths at the box-office? So McCann and Peeke went to work on convincing everyone who needed convincing, while Peeke carried on assuring Ted that his man was definitely up for the part. In the end, it looked like the studios just weren’t going to buy it with Quillan, so Peeke closed the deal on a handshake with Forgon, only to be told at the eleventh hour that Quillan was in. So McCann got the contract firmed up, then flew to New York the next day where Quillan was playing off Broadway.

  ‘Peeke double-crossed Forgon in a big way, there’s no doubt about that,’ she said, ‘and Forgon’s never forgiven him. But since Peeke died of a heart attack the day the movie was released, Forgon feels that he’s gone some way towards paying for what he did. McCann, on the other hand, is still out there, rolling around the decks like a loose cannon and Forgon has decided that the only way to regain the face he lost and pay McCann back for making him look such a jerk in his own town, is to lure him under his wing, give him everything he wants, groom him, build him, get his name up in lights, then crush him. And just why the hell he thinks McCann is going to roll over and say hey, Ted, here I am, come tickle my tummy then kick me in the balls, I’ve got no idea.’

  Clay seemed confused by that too. ‘So McCann knows that’s what’s behind all Forgon’s offers?’ he said.

  Ellen shrugged. ‘The man’s not stupid, he’s got to have worked out that what Forgon’s really after is revenge. And if he has worked it out, which all his refusals suggest he has, then I don’t see any way of getting him to change his mind, do you?’

  Clay was staring past her thoughtfully and though Ellen was extremely anxious about the way the meeting was going to go in the morning, at that moment she was far more involved in the concern and interest Clay was showing in her problem. Not that he ever seemed bored by her work, it was just good to know that he cared enough to talk it all through with her.

  ‘You know what I think,’ he said in the end. ‘I think you’re going to pull this off.’

  Ellen laughed and wanted to hug him for having such faith in her. Instead she said, ‘Remember, three other agents are out there right now, either selling insurance in Missouri, playing the tables in Vegas or God only knows what the third is doing, but she’s not working in Hollywood any more that’s for sure.’

  ‘So what you’ve got to ask yourself,’ Clay said, ‘is why did Forgon choose you to go after McCann, when there’s no way in the world the man wants to lose you. You’re bringing too much business his way.’

  Ellen shrugged. ‘I guess it either shows how bad this obsession with McCann has got, or maybe he really does think I can pull it off.’

  ‘Or,’ Clay said, ‘he’s going to work it so’s you present McCann with an offer he can’t refuse, then let you walk off with all the glory.’

  Ellen laughed in surprise. ‘Now that,’ she said, ‘is a scenario I could really go for.’

  Clay yawned and stretched, then reached out for her to come sit with him. ‘Listen to me,’ he said, snuggling her into his arms, ‘you’re smart, you’re classy, you’re ambitious, you’re tough and you’re headed right for the top, so I just don’t see this McCann guy getting in the way, nor Forgon letting him. Because whatever else Forgon is, he’s too damned smart to let anyone get the better of his favourite girl.’ He snatched up the phone that was ringing beside him. ‘Hello?’ he said.

  Ellen looked at him in amazement. Obviously he’d forgotten where they were to have answered the phone like that.

  ‘Sure, I’ll pass you over. Matty,’ he said, handing the receiver to Ellen.

  Not wanting Clay’s mind to wander, she didn’t stay long on the line with Matty. ‘So what are you saying?’ she repeated, passing him the receiver to hang up.

  ‘What I’m saying,’ he said, wrapping her back in his arms, ‘is that Forgon’s got to have something up his sleeve, ’cos he’s not going to run the risk of losing you both, which is what it could end up costing him if you don’t come home with the star prize. Did you read the script I left for you on Friday?’ he said, abruptly changing the subject.

  ‘The first few scenes,’ she answered, adjusting quickly. ‘I didn’t get chance to finish it yet. What I read needs tightening, or maybe it needs extra scenes … I’m not sure. It’s out of balance somewhere anyway. Are you serious about it? You really want to play this part?’

  ‘I’m interested,’ he countered. ‘Why? Do you want to represent me?’

  Ellen turned to look at him. Signing Clay Ingall would be such a major coup for her personally, as well as for the agency, that even if she did take a fall with McCann there was just no way Forgon would fire her. And even if he did, with Clay as her client she could probably start her own agency and Forgon wouldn’t be able to do a god-damned thing to stop her. ‘You don’t mean that,’ she whispered, knowing that his relationship with Zac Luberman was solid.

  He laughed and pulled her mouth to his. ‘Don’t rule it out,’ he told her, while kissing her. ‘Now, I reckon it’s time we had ourselves some more fun, don’t you?’

  ‘Whatever you say,’ she murmured against his lips.

  ‘How about,’ he said, ‘I put you in the car and take you out for a drive?’

  Ellen frowned.

  He chuckled. ‘In the nude,’ he said. ‘That security guard you got yourself out there could be in for a treat when we go by.’

  Though she felt her pulses quicken Ellen was already protesting. ‘Clay, no,’ she said. ‘I live here. I’ve got to pass that guy every day.’

  ‘But the client wants to take his new agent for a test drive,’ he joked, starting to unbelt her robe. ‘Hey, you do want me to be your client, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, but I really don’t know if I’m comfortable with this, Clay.’

  ‘We’ve done it plenty of times before,’ he reminded her as he reached inside her robe and started stroking her breasts. ‘But hey, if you’re not comfortable then we just don’t do it.’

  She turned to look at him and felt her resolve weakening as his fingers tightened on her nipples.

  ‘Of course, I could drive real fast,’ he said, ‘and the windows are tinted so the guard couldn’t see in anyway. It’ll only be me who knows you’re naked right there in the seat next to me. And honey, I’ve got to tell you, it’ll just about blow my mind.’

  Chapter 6

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, at seven thirty, Ellen was shown to a corner table in the busy restaurant of the Four Seasons Hotel on Doheny. The place was already crowded with industry people, there to see and be seen so the rest of the world would know they were still in business. As usual, the noise was cacophonous; cell-phones ringing, cutlery clashing, voices battling to make themselves heard. Ellen waved to those she knew, paused to chat to a few, then sat down at the table Ted Forgon’s latest secretary had reserved.

  After ordering some tea she took out the notes she had made and started to read. She knew it all by heart now, so
her concentration was poor and by the time the waiter returned with her tea her mind was a long way from the problem facing her. Realizing it, she struggled to refocus on McCann and tried asking herself again why Forgon had switched the meeting from the office to the Four Seasons at the last minute. Probably, she told herself, because he wanted to let everyone know he was back in action and this was as effective a way of doing it as any. The fact that it seemed odd that he would hold this particular meeting in a public place wasn’t something she was going to dwell on. If there were any sinister overtones or hidden agendas she would find out soon enough.

  She looked back down at the page in front of her and was about to start reading again when a director she knew stopped by to say hello. By the time he moved on, Ellen was burning hot and cold inside. Of course, she was being paranoid and she knew it, there were no double meanings to anything the man had said, and he looked at everyone that way, as though he couldn’t quite believe they could speak. So there was nothing for her to worry about, no reason to feel so ashamed. Except the very idea that anyone should ever find out that Clay Ingall had driven her around Beverly Hills in the nude last night was too horrible for words.

  She should never have given in, but the real truth of it was, it turned her on too to be sitting beside him naked and watching what it was doing to him. And even the fact that she would rather die than be caught like that didn’t make much difference in the heat of the moment. Mercifully, the security guard had been attending to someone arriving when they’d left, so he hadn’t seen her and by the time they returned she had managed to persuade Clay to get her coat from the trunk. Whether anyone had seen her while they were driving around or when they’d pulled up at stop lights, she had no idea, for she studiously avoided any eye contact other than with Clay. As usual, he had loved every minute of it, and, so he said, loved her even more for doing it. Certainly their love-making had been good when they’d returned, and again this morning before she’d left. But, she had to ask herself, was it worth what it would do to her parents were they ever to open a newspaper and see their only daughter exposed that way? The very idea of it made her feel sick inside, for not since she was a child had she undressed in front of her father and now, for him to see her like that, knowing the rest of the world was seeing her too … His shame would be so great he would never be able to hold up his head in public again. God knew, it would be bad enough if they were to learn about her relationship with Clay that way, but that they should ever have to suffer the disgrace of knowing that she had actually gone out in public without her clothes was something she would almost rather die than subject them to.