Page 89 of Out of the Gold

Melody

Today’s shoot wentwell, with no problems with wardrobe. To my eyes, Charles gave his best performance to date. I like to think I’ve had a hand in that. During the shoot, Judith pulled me and Helene aside to refine wardrobe issues for the extras in tomorrow’s shoot, which we figured out. I like to think my ideas were more innovative than Helene’s. Assuming Judith gets the job on Noble’s next movies, I send up one more prayer that the lead costume designer position becomes mine.

With light footsteps, I skip toward Charles’s trailer. When I enter, it’s filled with people. Jessa is there, sniffing around my man again. Seriously? Plus, Mark and of course, Thomas. I stifle the frustration overcoming me, wanting to be alone with my boyfriend. He’s a big star and has many obligations.

I go to my design suitcase and remove the scissors and other things I need to get Charles out of the costume.

Charles mocks, “Uh-oh, folks, shit’s getting real. The scissors are out.”

I open and close them a few times in rapid succession. Mark claps him on the back, “We’ll leave you to it.” He passes me and stops. I freeze. Has he figured out about Charles and me? He turns his head. “Hey, Chase, want to go out on a yacht tonight? A friend of a friend is in Positano and invited me.”

“Sounds cool, man,” Charles says while looking at me. “Let me get out of this suit and I’ll let you know. I have to go over the lines for tomorrow.”

Mark addresses Thomas. “Want to join me?”

The PA clicks his pen. “Thanks for the invite. I’d love to.”

Mark nods and heads toward the door. On his way, he does a two-step with Jessa, whispering something in her ear that makes her tap his chest. Holding the door handle, he tosses, “Melody, you’re welcome to come as well. Bring your friend, Sophia.”

Jessa appears at Charles’s side, and I snap the scissors harder. When she kisses him, I almost break them into two.

“See ya later,” Charles calls as Jessa walks down the aisle toward the door, his gaze never straying from mine communicating the kiss was an act.Of my own making.

When Thomas takes a seat and pulls out his clipboard, Charles reaches between his legs and unsnaps the bodysuit. I help him get out of it and throw away the soaked undershirt. No matter how breathable we tried to make it for him, the suit still makes him sweat.

Charles sits next to his PA and removes his boots, tossing the socks into the garbage as well. The two men refine the details for tomorrow’s shoot and longer-range plans.

I motion for Charles to stand so I can cut him out of the leggings. Because Thomas is still here, I try to be as quick as possible for my boyfriend. After I free Charles’s left leg, Thomas stands.

“I think I’m good here. Will I see you on the yacht tonight?”

Charles’s knee bounces, the material flapping. “Not sure. I need to finish up a couple of things.”

Thomas clicks his pen, says goodbye to us, and leaves. Finally alone, Charles opens his arms and I fly right into them. My head resting against his chiseled pecs, I let my fingers wander over the muscled expanse of his back.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he murmurs in my ear before kissing me senseless.

Stepping back, I look into his passion-laden eyes. “Let’s get you out of the rest of the costume.” He rolls his hips and I get back to work, which doesn’t take long.

Soon, Charles stands before me in only the black boxer briefs, and his hand goes to his waistband. My mouth waters as he slowly—oh, so slowly—teases me by pulling down one side, and then the other, until he stands naked in front of me.

I place my index finger to my lips and walk around him, examining every square inch of his sculpted body. “Damn, Mr. Wainwright,” I drawl as if from the South, “you’re a mighty fine specimen.”

He throws his head back and laughs, then reaches out and grabs me around my waist. “And you, my dear, are my Aurumite.” His lips descend on mine. I let my hand roam lower, cupping his hard ass. I pinch.

“Did you just goose me?”

“Yep. But it wasn’t satisfying ’cause it’s so hard.”

He rubs against me. “Not the only thing on me that’s getting that way.” He kisses me again.

Hyperaware we shouldn’t be doing this in his unlocked trailer, which seems to have no privacy, I take a step back. “Charles, I’m not feeling safe in here, if you know what I mean.” I cast my eyes toward the door.

His face turns from teasing to understanding. “I get it. Let’s take this back to my hotel.”

“That’s an idea I can get behind.” I slap him on the butt as he selects a pair of workout shorts and puts them on, commando.

I’m fixing up my design suitcase when a knock sounds. “Geez.”

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