The Director (Hollywood Nights) by Cara North

clothed.
Desperately, passionately, they moved in awkward and rough motions until he
came. He pushed hard into her and held tight. His lips pressed to hers pinning
her to the wall with every bit of his body he could. She could not remember
feeling so possessed by someone. Jed didn’t just fuck her, like a savage, he
claimed her.
                By infinitesimal increments he
slowly let her go until they stood there facing each other, breathless,
bewildered. He blinked a few times and then said with a sheepish grin, “I
really just wanted to have coffee with you. But you were in those horrible
shorts and I kinda…lost control.”
                She laughed and leaned into his kiss
as he wrapped her into his arms. They should not be so comfortable with each
other, she thought. They didn’t know one another well enough for this, but it
was undeniable that when it came to sexual chemistry they were explosive.
                “I think I can handle that shower
now.” He circled his nose around hers and then placed a gentle kiss on her
lips.

 
    ***
               
                Jed was officially losing his mind.
He had spent the past week fighting with himself and the situation. He tried to
convince himself that he was just a little lonely and that is why he was going
so crazy. He smoked more on days he was trying to give up the idea of her and
less on days he thought she wouldn’t approve of him smoking. He was mad at
himself for even worrying about what she did or did not approve of.
    He tried to go out with a girl
Janice had set him up with. He felt like he was cheating on Shay the entire
time. It was weird. He didn’t love her, he could not possibly love someone he
did not know, but he was obsessed with her. Infatuated beyond reasonable
control and instead of throwing lukewarm coffee in his face, she had let him
inside.
                His intentions to talk to her went
out the window, and the next thing he knew he had her pinned against a wall.
Now, he followed her up the stairs of the modest home to her bedroom and the
bathroom located there. He looked around the room. He suspected the couple
hanging on the wall was her father’s parents. He decided she had several of her
grandmother’s features. The woman looked familiar to him, but he didn’t know
why. He was then distracted by the abundance of items placed in an organized fashion
in a room too small to properly hold them.
                The bed was covered with handbags
and shoes. They seemed to be set up in what he imagined was a pattern for
mixing and matching easily. Nothing cheap about anything she owned. He wasn’t
sure how much extras made these days, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t enough
to cover the cost of all this.
                “Where do you sleep?” he couldn’t
help but ask.
                “In what I suppose could be
considered the guest room. It has a twin bed. It used to be my bedroom when I
visited so I’m used to it. It’s just easier for me to keep my closet close to
the bathroom lately.” She untied the running shoes and then tugged them off
followed by her socks. He looked around the place again as she finished, and he
started to undress. She noticed him looking and said, “It’s weird right? I know
it is, but I won’t get rid of it since I haven’t worn half of it, and can’t
afford a bigger place. This one was left to me by my grandma. I just pay taxes
and utilities. I own it.”
                He looked without really looking at
the labels on some of the items as he placed his clothes over the arm of a
chair that was already home to an assortment of name brand sunglasses and
wondered how she didn’t see how much money she had spent on these things. He
didn’t say anything. He was treading on thin ice as it was and he wanted to
eventually know why her bedroom looked like an extravagant display of excess,
rather than a place she