Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 (45 page)

I reached back and unhooked my bra, let it slide down my arms, then I dragged it across Charlie’s face. He looked to be in heaven.

“I want you to show me how you get off,” I said sliding off of his lap and laying on my side facing him, my head propped up under my hand. He looked at me questioningly. Like I’d heard the directors say on set, I said, “Roll camera.”

A slow wicked grin spread on his face. Charlie placed a hand over his ridge under his jeans and rubbed the length a few strokes.

Then I said, “Slate. Marker. Action!” and slapped my hands together, then put my hand back under my head.

“Undo your jeans. Take Little Big Charlie out.”

He laughed. “What did you call him?”

“Little Big Charlie,” I smiled sweetly. “He’s not that little, you know. I don’t know how you even walk around with that thing.”

He growled at me and leaned in to kiss.

“Stop. I’m filming,” I laughed, fully getting into my role as director. “Now fuck your hand.”

“Yes, Madam Director,” he grinned and unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them. He slipped his hand in the waistband and into his boxer briefs. He stroked inside his underwear a few times, until I cleared my throat. He smirked at me and then with both hands shimmied his pants down over his bulge until his cock sprang free.

Charlie glanced at me, but my eyes were trained on that massive piece of meat. I wanted to wrap my hands over it and lick the head. With his right hand, he gripped the shaft of his penis and gave a few pumps. His left hand came up and reached down further, cupping his balls and giving a light squeeze.
Hmm. Good to know.
His grip tightened, his strokes now came up and over the crown, and his breathing picked up with a light groan. I watched as he tightened the grip on his shaft and pre-cum beaded on the head.

With his index finger he smeared it around the tiny slit and circled it all over. His thumb came up next and really worked it in good. His glans gleamed in the coating and it seemed that his dick had gotten even bigger. I looked up at Charlie’s face and his eyes were half closed, his mouth hanging open a bit. When I looked back down his strokes had gone full boat from base to over the crown.

I squeezed my legs together, my own arousal on full blast. I was starting to get light headed as I realized my own breathing had picked up. I brought my free hand up to my breast and started to knead at it, and pinch the nipple. Charlie noticed, and said, “Oh, fuck, that’s hot.” He started to pump his cock harder and faster.

“Slow down,” I breathed, thoroughly enjoying the show, not wanting this to be over before it started.

He groaned painfully. “So hard watching you play with your tits,” he said.

“I can stop,” I said.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He smiled at me and then his eyes dropped to my breasts as I pinched and twisted at my darkened nipples. “Oh, daaaamn.”

He continued to pump his fist on his manhood, slightly twisting when he got to the head, and a squeeze to his balls from time to time. I couldn’t take it, attention to my nipples no longer enough, so I slipped my hand down to my stomach and unbuttoned my jeans. I slid my hand into my panties and instantly my fingers were wetted when I reached my folds. Slick didn’t begin to show how turned on I was. I rubbed my finger over my sensitive nub, never letting my eyes off of Charlie’s hand, which had kept it’s metered pace.

“Okay, you can go faster,” I directed. And on cue, he started to fist faster, gripping tighter. His spongy head now nearly purple. Charlie was groaning and I glanced at his face to see he totally noticed that my hand had left my breast and was now in my jeans, furiously rubbing.

Charlie’s legs started to tremble, and his moaning had turned to grunts. I knew those sounds. He was about to blow. My own finger dipped further down and into my entrance then back up, freshly slicked and worked my clit.

“Let’s go,” I breathed. His eyes, darker than I’ve ever seen them, focused on mine and together, we stroked ourselves into convulsions, and moaning and grunting. Watching as Charlie gripped the base of his cock so tightly as ropy strands of cum shot up and landed on his chest was exhilarating. Spurt after spurt, one landing on my breast, until Charlie’s body started to relax.

I felt slightly cheated that I didn’t get there, but I didn’t have to worry. Charlie rolled over and yanked my jeans down, throwing my hand aside. He dove between my thighs and licked with a wide spread tongue, two or three times. Pointing that tongue now, he circled the clit, while plunging two fingers deeply into my aching pussy. Wiggling them around, he found the spot he was looking for. My free hands went to my breasts, and gripped painfully. Charlie’s mouth clamped onto my clit and he sucked wildly, his fingers firmly and roughly stroking my G-spot. He moaned onto my clit and I lost it. I cried out and my hips bucked off of the bed. I felt a rush of wet warm us both.

Charlie licked and licked until I was clean.

“Best non-acting acting gig I’ve ever had,” he said crawling up to me and pulling me into his arms.

“You’re a fabulous non-actor actor.”

We lay there just breathing and being. Basking in the glory of our mutual session and incredible orgasms.

The rest of Sunday was spent relaxing and getting ready for Monday. I cooked, Charlie studied his lines for the scenes that were being shot tomorrow and Tuesday. I listened intently to his studying and was relieved that there were no lines with kissing. Apparently, the lines he’d used on me, and delivered flawlessly when I recognized them and went off to puke publicly, the director was able to use them and already had them worked into the show.

H
ormonal Phoebe, sexually hormonal Phoebe, sexually-hormonal-and-bossy Phoebe, was my favorite Phoebe ever. She’d been submissive to my raging needs. She’d been an equal to my needs. She’d taken the reins a couple of times in our sexual exploits. But when she got bossy, telling me what she wanted me to do, my dick was a force to be reckoned with. Maybe it was the actor in me. I liked to be told what to do. Not all the time, and I loved being in control of her, but this afternoon was hot. We’d be playing “Director-Actor” again. Soon.

I was nervous about tomorrow though. Being back on set. I’d gone AWOL from a job before and gone back on, and the director was an ass to me, and I was a dick to him, he’d call Michael and I got an earful. I was carefully planning my return to
Cops Undercover
. I was going to be awesome. Not just to be different. But I was going to be Charlie. I was going to be the man Phoebe helped me be. Somewhere along the way, she’d had me drop all my self-made rules, and my cocky personality. She had me behaving like someone to be admired, and I liked that feeling very much. Especially when she admired me.

M
onday, Charlie and I showed up on set at three-ungodly-thirty in the morning. We reported to the Hair and Makeup trailer and they were as bleary eyed as we were. Charlie made a point to wear his “I Wear Pink for My Mom” t-shirt, hoping to soften the blow of the extra work his impulsive head-shaving had caused. The hairdresser was actually very gracious about the whole thing, saying she was impressed that he’d done such a thing to support his mother. Sitting on the make-up counter was a mannequin head with a wig the same color of hair that Charlie’s hair was, minus the highlights. The hairdresser put the wig on Chase’s head, glued it into place, and then started coloring it, using foils, to achieve the natural highlights his hair featured. He looked ridiculous and I took a couple of photos with my phone for posterity. After the highlights were put in, the hairdresser set about cutting it, while comparing photos from the shoot more than a week ago. It was amazing. In about two and half hours, time had been undone, and Charlie had the long locks he used to have. I longed to dive my fingers into the shag, but I was afraid of messing things up.

By eight, the cast and crew arrived on set, and everyone got busy, wasting no time whatsoever. Charlie was spot-on with his lines and the director asked him why he hadn’t been so on point two weeks ago. Charlie didn’t let it get to him. He just smiled good-naturedly and thanked the director for his patience while he dealt with his family emergency. Monday night I was exhausted and didn’t feel like cooking. We holed ourselves up in his hotel and ordered room service.

Tuesday was a repeat of Monday, only with a later call time since Hair didn’t have to recut the wig. It was funny watching Charlie go from nearly bald to luscious locks and back to the micro-buzz all in a day. Wednesday, Charlie had sound booth voice-over work, and when he had to fly back to L.A. late Wednesday, my heart broke.

I was vaguely aware of paparazzi snapping photos of our tearful goodbye at the limo, but I didn’t care anymore. I would have to get used to them if I was going to be with Charlie. And I was definitely going to be with Charlie. Even if he was Chase to everyone else, and still a little cocky for the public, and slightly full of himself, it was all with a kinder, more thoughtful edge. No longer signing girls’ chests, or flirting with them.

Wednesday night was horrible. My bed was so empty without Charlie there. I called him and he talked me to sleep. Tomorrow he had three interviews to do, and I promised to DVR him on the
Ellen Degeneres Show, Access Hollywood,
and
The Tonight Show with Jay Leno.
I wasn’t sure I would have the energy to stay up for Jay Leno, but I would watch after work on Thursday.

Thursday I went back to my
original
internship. Valerie and I spent a good hour reviewing how things had gone with my being a P.A. for Chase, and if I was ever called into the position again, some guidelines, since it was a big part of Public Relations. Certainly, I’d never be sleeping with another talent I might be assigned to, but there were many things I hadn’t done because I was thrust into the role mid-assignment. We reviewed the projects and files I’d started on during the week I
had
been doing the job I was supposed to do, and what I would be doing with them in the coming weeks.

“Now, Friday,” she said with a big sigh.

“I’ll understand if I can’t go. Clearly we have a lot of work to do,” I said, holding up the stack of files we’d just reviewed.

“Oh, but you’re going,” she said. “Nothing like understanding Public Relations than from the point of view of standing on the red carpet. And post-parties.”

I was stunned. I was going to be flown to L.A. to wear the morning glory purple, beaded dress. To go to a premiere. And post-parties.

“And it seems you’re going to need your rest?” she asked, glancing at me cautiously.

I ducked my head, hot tears jumping from my eyes. Would the shame ever ease up? And why I thought Valerie might have missed those paparazzi photos of Charlie and I going to Dr. Mora’s, I don’t know. I was going to chalk it up to the ‘pregnancy brain’ that the good doctor said tends to happen to pregnant women.

“Ms. Cocozza. I—”

“Hey, it happens,” she said, leaning forward and taking my hand. “And please, I think at this point you can call me, Valerie.” I looked at her for a moment. She wasn’t the hard edged corporate-minded woman I knew. Suddenly, this wasn’t a business conversation, at least not entirely. “Clearly it’s not Charlie’s, and truthfully, not my business or important. As for the paparazzi, Michael and I have talked, and we recommend that you and Charlie neither confirm nor deny the photos. Charlie knows the buzz will die out as soon as there’s another juicy headline.” She sat back and took a breath. “So, what are your plans?”

“Adoption,” I whispered.

“Smart girl. I wish I’d been that strong and smart back in my day,” she said and looked out the window. I looked at her carefully. Her eyes were glassy and she was more than pensive. What was she saying? “Yes, I was in your position once. I took the ‘easy way’ out,” she said, using air-quotes. “But it’s been anything but easy. I have been haunted by that decision every day for the past nine and a half years.”

I couldn’t help it. I was stunned. My jaw literally dropped. Had she really been caught by a surprise pregnancy and terminated it? “You…?” I said quietly.