Page 42 of The Starlet

“Do you have a washer and dryer? I’d love to be able to get this done, especially because I’m on my last pair of clean panties.” She blushes and laughs as she says it.

“You mean I have the chance to have you go commando, and you’re going to deny me?”

“I can do that anyway.” She slips her hands under the hem of her skirt and pulls her panties down her legs, bending to pick them up from the floor.

I reach out to grab her, and she steps back.If she wants to play, I’ll play.I advance on her. As I take a step forward, she takes one back. We’re moving in sync with each other until her back hits the wall. Smiling, I lick my lips, then take her tiny wrists in my hands and hold them above her head. Leaning my head toward hers, my lips have just grazed hers when the doorbell rings.

I growl in frustration and step back from her. “Stay here.”

I open the front door, but no one is there; however, there’s a package sitting on the front porch. I look down the road to see the back of a UPS truck driving away.

Elena’s name is on the box with my address, and I smile. I want her to move in with me, but I doubt she’ll want that. Her house is bigger than mine and in a nicer part of town. I don’t live in the ghetto, by any means, but there are more families here. It’s less of a party crowd.

I picture Elena with a round belly, and my pants feel too tight. Why is that thought such a turn on? I can see her looking beautiful on the red carpet, her dress tight around her growing bump, and the pregnancy glow everyone always talks about. I shake my head to rid the images from it.We’ve been dating about a month. Now’s not the time to think about knocking her up, Brad!

“Elena, come out here. It looks like you have a box.”

“Open it, see what I ordered. I’ll be right there,” she calls from down the hall.

I run a knife over the tape to cut it loose and pull back the flaps. A small video camera, tripod, and memory card are inside. I suck in a deep breath as she comes into view wearing a sexy bra, barely-there panties, and stockings. I hold the items up and silently question her.

“I liked being filmed. I don’t like that it’s out there for everyone to see because that’s such a private thing, but it was freeing in the moment.”

Jesus Christ, this woman is going to kill me.

* * *

We lie naked in bed,watching everything we just filmed. The way she arches her back and thrusts her ass out is perfection.

“You know, if your Hollywood career doesn’t pan out, you’re a natural at porn. This is fucking hot.”

Her moans of pleasure mixed with the sounds of our bodies are making me hard again. We watch it all the way through and have sex one more time before she collapses next to me and asks for food.

“Your wish is my command. Go shower. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” She crawls off the bed, and I give her ass a smack as she runs away from me.

I order some take-out and join her while I wait for it to arrive. I wash her hair and massage her back as we enjoy each other. We get out, dry off, and toss on some clothes. I pop open a bottle of wine for us as she takes glasses out of the cabinet. She looks so good standing in my kitchen. The hot pink on her toenails adds a pop of color to my boring white and stainless kitchen.

The doorbell rings, and the guy standing at my door has to be in his late teens. He looks up at me, and his eyes light up.

“Yo, you’re that guy that was fucking Elena Conners, right?”

I glare at him and rip the receipt out of his hand to sign it.

“Was she good? I bet she was good, right? Damn, that girl is fine.”This guy doesn’t know when to quit.

The noise that radiates from my chest is animalistic. “If you want to keep your job, I suggest you stop talking and leave,” I manage to bite out between clenched teeth.

He looks at the slip. “Seriously? That’s it for a tip?”

“You’re lucky I gave you anything. Plus, I’ll let you keep your job by not filing a formal complaint with your boss.” I slam the door in his face and return to the kitchen.

She’s leaning with one hip against the counter, one arm crossed over her chest, and a glass of wine in her other hand.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

I put the food down and gather her to my chest. I wrap my arms tight around her and weave my fingers into her hair. I kiss the top of her head as she grips the back of my shirt, and when her body starts shaking, I know she’s crying.

“Shh, babe. It’s going to be all right,” I soothe.