“Aura, I’m going to come.”
She moans, head thrown back as she touches herself. “Not yet. Hold it.”
“I can’t.” It’s too much, I can’t hold it in any longer. I’m breathing so hard I think I’m going to pass out. My headis fuzzy and I can feel it coming. It takes everything in me to keep it in.
And then she arches her back. “Now,” she cries out as she comes a second time.
And that’s all it takes. As her channel spasms around me, I let go, the built-up pleasure exploding out of me. My body goes rigid and my vision fuzzy as I come harder than I ever have. My dick pulses again and again as I shatter beneath her. I shudder, feeling like my soul has escaped my body.
When the spasms finally ease, I fall back, wincing as she lifts herself off me, collapsing under the crook of my arm. Her hair is damp on my shoulder, one leg tossed over mine.
“Fuck, I…” My barely conscious brain stops me before I say the words. The ones I’m desperate to say, that I know she doesn’t want to hear.
I’m spent. Her hand strokes my chest lazily, like I’m her pet.
The moment is almost perfect. I wrap an arm around her, hugging her close because it’s the closest she’s let me get to her. I want more. I want everything with her, but I’ll settle for this quiet intimacy.
For now.
Chapter 20
Aura
Theranchwasalreadybustling with activity when I slipped out. Somehow the couple of photographers hanging around the gates didn’t even notice me driving Shayla’s truck, swimming in one of Quint’s Hollow Hills polo shirts with my hair pulled back, a baseball hat and cheap plastic sunglasses hiding my face. It’s amazing how easy it is to slip under the radar when you subvert expectations.
She’s still not a fan of the arrangement between me and her brother. But we’ve fallen into something of an easy peace. I’m going to do my best to get to know her better, because I get the feeling she could use a friend. Her brothers are great and all, and I can tell how much they love her, but they are men. And she’s their sister.
“Aurelia!”
Maggie Young has broken so much ground for women in Hollywood. Creating her own production company when nobody was willing to adapt a bestselling romance novel into a movie, then turning that adaptation into a major box office hit. Standing up for the rights of her female actors and ensuring equal pay for them. Supporting BIPOC and LGBTQ+ actors, producers, and screenwriters. She’s an icon.
And that icon is currently sitting in Leonora’s little coffee shop in Balsam Grove wearing a pair of mom jeans and a yellow short-sleeved button-up shirt, with her hair piled on top of her head in a chaotic bun. I love everything about this woman.
“Maggie.”
She holds out her arms for a hug. “I’m so happy to see you. Let me get you a coffee, what do you drink?”
I shake my head. “I can get my own coffee.”
“I insist. I already told the lovely lady behind the counter to heat you up one of those amazing cranberry orange muffins for you when you got here. I’ll just pop over to pick it up and grab your coffee.”
“Thanks. I’ll take a matcha tea latte please. Nonfat. Unsweetened.”
She’s halfway across the restaurant before my butt has landed in the slightly scratched wooden chair. Being in this place feels like going over to a friend’s house after school back in the day. It’s homey and warm, not like the trendy coffee shops in LA with their overly styled furniture. I’d forgotten what this kind of place could feel like.
I nod to Leonora at the counter, scanning the restaurant to see if I recognize anyone else. But no. It’s a pretty small town, but it’s not like I’ve been getting out and about too much.
I was in shock when I got the message from Clara telling me to call Maggie. I was half expecting this to be some kind of group cast meeting. I’ve been seeing posts on social while creeping the people I’ll be working with for the foreseeable future., so I know some of them arrived last night.
I’m drumming my fingers on the table, deep in thought, when Maggie comes back. The steaming cup she hands me smells fresh and crisp. Matcha’s not even my favorite, but there’s some connection to it that always leaves me feeling reassured, warm. It’s what I gravitate toward to calm my anxiety, in spite of the caffeine.
“She is an absolute delight. You know she started this coffee shop after she lost her husband? A single mother in her twenties, two babies at home, and she built this herself. Remarkable.”
“Leonora?” I glance over to see the woman behind the counter rearranging the pastries in the glass case. How did Maggie find all that out in the brief time she spent waiting for drinks?
“Yes! I just love hearing people’s stories. Especially women.” She taps an unpolished nail on her temple. “I’ve got thousands stored up here, just waiting their turn. Pieces of them end up in my characters. So, Aura. Is it alright if I call you Aura? Tell me your story.” She leans in closer, waiting.
“Of course.” As if I’d say no to her. The woman who currently holds my future of my career in her hands. “Umm, I was born in Michigan.”
