“The Talent—that’s you—is required to complete no less than thirteen episodes a season until such a time as the network decides the show is no longer viable for their purposes or ten years, whichever comes first.”
Fuck me. Why had I agreed to a ten-year contract? Because it is ten years in a field where people are lucky to get ten months.
“Thanks.”
“You gonna tell me what this is all about?” I heard the laptop close. “I can listen, you know. As a friend, not as your manager slash producer slash agent slash whatever the heck I am now.”
“A lot of things.”
He nodded for me to continue.
“I’m ready to not be travelling anymore.” Might as well give him something. He really was a good friend. “Ever want to just stop and grow some roots—not feel like a guest even in your own home?”
“Honestly? Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to—don’t think I’m weird, okay?” I gave him the thumbs-up he always gave me on set and he cracked a smile. “Sometimes I wonder how life would be if I had an office job. Maybe I’d have a picket fence and two-point-five kids and a dog named Sushi.”
“Sushi is a good name for a dog.”
“It is. Let me see what I can do. No promises.”
“Thank you. And if we can’t figure it out...maybe we can do the Route 66 thing but over the course of a few seasons.” Travel was travel, and if I had to do it, might as well do it in a way that would make Glenn happy.
“Why do you have to be like that?” He turned off his camera.
“Like what?”
“Making me all want to help you for real and stuff. Damn you. Now I have to try my hardest because you are so stupid nice.” He sniffled, explaining the quick camera diversion.
“You’d rather I be an asshat?” I chuckled.
“Naw. You’re pretty awesome the way you are. Just to be clear, though—this may fuck up future projects.”
“I’m aware, and I’m sorry because I know this impacts you as much as it does me.”
“And there you go again. I’m hanging up now.” And he did, leaving me with hope for the first time since I heard about the baby—hope that things would work out the way our child deserved and maybe—just maybe—I could get the happily ever after I never dared dream of.
Twenty-One
Stan
“I really like it here,” Chet told me as we walked home after a picnic lunch in the park.
He reminded me of someone on holiday saying they’d love to live in the vacation spot. But the truth was, any place where you’re not doing the daily work grind was a paradise. I didn’t take him seriously. “Me too. But you’d be bored if you spent a lot of time here. Life’s slower than in a city, and especially for someone who’s used to constant traveling.”
“I could adjust.” He grabbed my hand, and I instinctively pulled away.
Chet peered around and dragged me behind a bush. “Are we hiding our relationship in case the town gossips don’t approve?” He poked his head about the hedge and glanced left and right. “The coast is clear.”
While it was true, I didn’t want to become gossip fodder, I had to sort out my emotions and what exactly Chet and I were to one another before announcing it to the world. I needed the Is dotted and the Ts crossed and a name to our relationship, while Chet—at least on the surface—was a more go-with-the-flow kinda guy.
“We fucked once and now I’m pregnant,” I announced.
“Excuse me. You’re forgetting the blow job.”
“Fine,” I huffed. “Twice. You blew me off and then your dick was inside me. But I want more.” From the corner of my eye, I noted heads bobbing. Great. Two of my regulars who met at the café every day. “Afternoon,” I waved.
“More, you say?” Chet took my hand and hustled me past my customers and along the street toward home. Once inside, he held both my hands and walked backward into the bedroom. Those hips were swaying and his eyes were molten lust. His scent curled around us drawing me close.
“Wait! We’re having sex. Don’t I get a say?”
Chet’s shoulders slumped. “Of course. I’m sorry, I…”
“I do.”
“Want to have sex?” His puzzled expression had me giggling on the inside.
“Mmmm.” I ground my hips over his, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Wow! My secret weapon!
“With me?” he asked as one brow went up.
“No, with the milkman. Of course with you.”
“I’ve never done it with a pregnant guy.” He rubbed his hands over my midsection.
“Well, if you don’t hurry up and get your gear off, the baby will be here.” I stepped back.
“I’d prefer to get you naked first.” He tore off my shirt. “And kiss every inch of you.”
My knees wobbled as I pictured Chet’s mouth on my flesh. He hooked a finger in my jeans and pulled me close. “Here,” he mumbled, his lips on my shoulder. His tongue slid lower and I groaned as he left a trail of wetness leading to one nipple.
Pressing my fingers into his skin, I arched my back and offered him my body. He lapped at and teased the tiny bud until it hardened. And he replaced his tongue with his teeth.
“Chet,” I whimpered. “My cock is so hard right now.”
“Slow down, babe,” he mumbled. Babe? His lips slid lower and he got to his knees. “I’m going to worship you.” His tongue was in my belly button which had my knees trembling. I raked my nails over his scalp and he grunted, “So good. Your taste reminds me of honey and limes. Sweet and sour. Drawing me in with your tenderness and then overwhelming me and whacking me about the head.”
“That’s me,” I gasped as his fingers fumbled at my waistband. “My witchy ways’ll snare you when you’re not looking.”
“Gods, I hope so.” My pants were yanked down, and Chet’s mouth was on my briefs and one hand rubbed my balls while the other squeezed my ass. I gulped huge mouthfuls of air trying to get more oxygen into my lungs. He slapped my butt gently and I yelped. “One day, Stan, after the baby’s born. I’m going to spank you. Hard. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” I squeaked, barely able to get the word out.
One of his hands sank inside my briefs and fondled my cock. I shoved my hips forward as his fingers worked their way along the shaft. I’d had enough of this, and I pulled away. Chet’s mouth gaped, and he froze as I peeled off my jeans and underwear.
Gripping my arousal, I tugged twice, and his eyes widened. He licked around his mouth and shuffled forward on his knees. He swiped his tongue over my cock, and every nerve ending in my body was on fire.
Looking at Chet squatting at my feet, his mouth worshipping my dick, I outstretched my hand and yanked him up. I was so turned on but my legs weren’t going to hold me up and floor sex was not my thing. “Bed. Much more comfortable.” My voice was thick, and I could hardly get the words out as lust tangled my thoughts, and I sank onto the mattress.
Chet shed his clothes in record time and sat beside me. “I didn’t finish.”