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One Week Later
I just got off the phone with my new agent, Thad Bellamy from CAA. So much good news.
My show just scored a prime Thanksgiving weekend release date. It shows the Netflix executives have tremendous faith in Kris and Ronni. There’s no doubt the jury’s out on me as a lead, but hopefully I’ll change their minds. According to the trades, the series is poised to sit at the top of the charts throughout the holiday weekend.
Thad thinks the second season will be greenlit too. No official word—yet. Hopefully in the next few days.
Most everything that’s happening in my career is already in motion. I’m hoping Thad can take things up a notch. He’s presented me with a few projects, which I’m supposed to consider. So far, nothing makes me overly excited. I’d rather wait until the series drops. Why commit to something now when I’ll have better opportunities to choose from later?
If Thad’s worth his salt that is. He’ll be able to negotiate more favorable terms when I’m in demand.
Even though I was technically retired from show business for a decade, I’m a lot savvier now than I used to be.
The doorbell rings. I’m not expecting anyone yet. All I can see through the peephole are flowers. Bright, colorful, exotic flowers. When I set them on the table in the foyer, I open the card.
Be there soon. XO JJ
It’s been a week since we laid things out on the table. It released a pressure valve for me. We’ve FaceTimed for hours before he goes to sleep. Kept things as low-key as possible. The time together—even though we’re two thousand miles apart—helped me relax my fears a bit.
Now that I’m paying closer attention, I’ve been surprised at how naturally lighthearted and fun we are together. Oh, and still sexy. Very, very sexy.
At the same time, it occurs to me that not much has actually changed. This is how we’ve always been together.
In the elevator. On the hate date. In our sex bubble.
It’s our default.
The difference is, I’m not in my own head second-guessing everything. I’m not going to put that kind of pressure on myself again. I just want to see him. Kiss him.
Fuck him.
It won’t be long now, Joar’s jet lands any minute.
As if he’s reading my mind, my phone buzzes from where it’s plugged in beside me. “Hi.”
“I’m on the ground. Should be there in a half hour.” He sounds out of breath.
Hearing his gravelly voice when I know he’s in the same city makes me feel a certain kind of way. “Okay.”
“You know I’d have been there a week ago if I had my way,” he grumbles. “Now, I know there are conversations to be had. But, it’s been nearly four weeks since I’ve been inside you. I will not be able to wait. Get ready, because I’m not going to be gentle.”
My pussy contracts at the thought. I hiss, “Joar… If I wasn’t horny enough, I sure am now.”
“JJ…“ he guts out.
“I’ll text you the gate code. The key’s under the mat. Come find me in my room. I’ll be waiting.” I giggle, determined to keep things playful.
At least for tonight.
He groans. “Naked?”
“Do you want me to be?” I tease.
“Oh, I want more than that.” His voice grows even more serious. “Put on those pink pumps from the elevator. Only wear the shoes and your pink bra. While you’re waiting for me to arrive, take out that dildo you used on yourself when we finally had video sex last night. Get yourself stretched. Ready for me.”
Now it’s my turn to moan. I made him wait all week, and why exactly? God, he turns me on so easily, it’s insane. “JJ….”
“Do not allow yourself come,“ he demands.
