coffee cups.
“I don’t have vanilla,” he says, pouring the coffee and then turning around to place it in front of me. I watch him walk to the fridge and get the cream and milk. When we came in last night, we were happy to see that they stocked the fridge, and he cooked for me again, nothing fancy but it was still nice to watch him do it.
“I think I’ll survive,” I tell him, and he comes to sit on the stool next to me.
“I’m not sure if you eat breakfast, but I’m sure they will have some sort of craft service on set. If not, we can send someone to get you something to eat.”
“I can wait,” I tell him, getting up off the stool. “I have to get ready.” I grab my coffee and walk back to my room. I’m slipping on my black heels when there is a knock on the door. “Come in,” I say from my walk-in closet.
“The car is here,” he says, and I walk into the room to him. “What in the fuck are you wearing?” he asks me in a gruff tone.
I look down at what I’m wearing, seeing the high-waist gray pants with a sash at the waist. I paired it with a white long-sleeved silk shirt with a vee collar and the buttons stop halfway with the sleeves rolled at the wrist. “Is it not dressy enough?” I ask, not sure if I have time to change.
“We are going on a film set that is dusty and most likely dirty,” he says with aggravation. “You are like a walking wet dream wearing that getup,” he mumbles, and I don’t know whether to be happy with the comment or not. “Don’t forget a jacket. It’s cold outside,” he says, turning and walking out of the room. I run back to the closet and grab my brown cashmere jacket, then pick up my Louis and walk to the front door. “You look like you are one of those girls from the porn movies. Not that I would know about that or anything.”
“What the hell is your problem?” I ask, irritated. “I’m not used to a film set, so how the heck should I know how to dress? I’m also still working, so why should I be dressed casually?”
“Whatever,” he says, and he walks away.
“Fuck you, too,” I say to myself and walk out of the house, closing the door behind me. He waits at the car with the back door open for me to get in.
I get into the car, and I don’t say anything to him. We don’t exchange any words for the entire trip, and I think to myself only thirteen more days to go.
Chapter Eleven
Carter
I tossed and turned all night, having almost wet dreams thinking about her. I never, ever told anyone any stories about my parents except Jeff. She sat next to me, and she just listened, and when I looked in her eyes, they didn’t have pity in them, and they didn’t have sadness. In fact, it looked like she was angry.
I woke up at two thirty and stayed in the bed until ten to three, then got up and made coffee. Actually, I stayed in bed, squeezing my hard cock until he went down. Then when I heard her voice, my cock stirred, and I had to talk it down. I was on edge. I needed to get laid soon, or my cock was going to self-combust. I had to google that to make sure it wasn’t actually a thing, and then when I went to get her, she walked out of her closet, and I swear the only thing I thought about was sinking my cock into her. She oozes sex appeal, and she is so oblivious to it that it’s even fucking sexier.
Then she put her jacket on, and I swear to God, I thought I was going to come in my pants. I got in the car, and all I could do was think of her with her hair up and glasses on bent over. Fuck, I needed to fuck period. She said nothing to me on the whole ride to the set, and I have to admit it was better because had she said something or sassed me, I wouldn’t have stopped myself from taking her. Even while the driver watched. Okay, I would have covered her so no one could see, but I still would have taken her. I would have