Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46914 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46914 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
She’s wearing black pants today, with a similar white shirt from before, the one that hugs those delicious breasts.
Already, my manhood is getting hard, tension flooding my length as I think about charging in there, moving up behind her, driving my rock-hard dick against her ass, and wrapping my arms around her.
I’ll massage her breasts over the shirt, then tear at the buttons, slipping my hands into her bra.
Finding her nipples, massaging them, and listening to how she moans for me.
You belong to me, I’ll growl in her ear. Only me.
She sits at her desk, looking around, her shoulders heaving in a sigh.
It makes me want to fix whatever problem she’s experiencing.
After another look around, she takes out her phone and stares at it for a few moments. I wonder if she’s looking at our text thread, wondering why I didn’t respond.
Then she starts typing quickly.
My phone sounds a text alert.
I’m starting work now. I guess I’m not going to get an answer to my question.
I squeeze my phone in my hand, then look through the small glass pane at her, knowing this is some real stalker-ish stuff I’m engaging in.
But I can’t stop, can’t even think about it, not when I’m able to feast on her beauty, to devour every inch of her.
Her hand moves through her wavy brown hair, making my palm tingle as I imagine mine there instead, as I imagine forcing myself to be gentle even as I want to grip her hair, lightly, and guide her lips to mine.
It’s difficult to explain, I respond, knowing this is lame, but I’m unable to fully explain until I know….
Until I know what?
That she feels the same as me?
The chances of that are almost zero.
No, not almost.
They are zero.
And even if she says she does, there’s no way for me to know if she’s genuine or if she wants my money, my fame, and all extras that come with my acting.
She looks around again, probably making sure her supervisor isn’t going to catch her texting.
It’s fine, her reply reads. You don’t know me. You don’t have to tell me anything.
It’s similar to what she said earlier about us not knowing each other. It’s not like she wants to confirm it again and again.
But why?
Does she not want me to know who she is?
I know you, Miss Mystery….
Her smile twitches as she reads the message. Her hand keeps caressing her hair cutely, making me instantly addicted to her quirks and to every gesture she offers.
There’s something so gorgeously womanly about how she plays with her hair.
Oh yeah? How’s that?
I almost text that I know her name. I know how beautiful she is. I know there’s nobody in the world I’d rather be with.
“Weston?”
I turn to find Aurora standing at the top of the first flight of stairs, a cigarette in her hand.
Taking off my sunglasses, I try for a smirk, but I can feel the shakiness.
“Is everything okay?” She descends the stairs, gesturing with her unlit cigarette. “You’re not going to tell George that I sneak down here every so often for a cancer stick, are you?”
I chuckle, shaking my head, but the laughter sounds more like a growl. It sounds like all the tension I feel for Alice is bursting through me.
“No,” I tell her.
“Then why are you hanging around the stair…,” she trails off, her gaze moving to the door, to the pane of glass in it. “Ah, I see. This is quite the development.”
“What do you see?” I say gruffly.
Aurora tilts her head with a pout. “Don’t get mad at me. I’m not the one spying.”
I shrug. “I’m not mad. I just….”
“You just wanted to see Alice again.”
There’s no point denying it. It’s not as though Aurora has to know the full extent of my want.
“I know it’s strange, showing up like this, but you’re right. I wanted to see her.”
“Why?” she asks.
There’s no way for me to put this into words. For many of the movies I work on, I contribute to the script, finding ways to improve the dialogue, but there’s no dialogue I can offer here that would make sense.
Unless I use the age-old explanation that, as a rich and powerful man, I want to use Alice for sex and then discard her.
But I’d never say that.
The thought of it makes my soul ache.
“She’s beautiful,” I say after a pause.
Aurora nods, smiling. “Yes, she is. You should’ve seen her smile when I offered her this job. I thought she was going to fall to her knees in gratitude. She’s a lovely young woman. But I’ve never known you to….”
“To target women. To use my position to get them into bed. It’s okay. You can say it.”
Aurora inclines her head. “It’s the truth. I’ve never known you to do any of that.”
“We’ve been texting,” I say.