Jonah wants to be with me. That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time. It’s the only news that matters.

He kisses me as if he’s never kissed me before. More passion. More lust. It’s the kiss that changes everything. No longer are we two souls searching, we’re two souls joining.

He rolls a condom down his thick length, and my insides tingle. Feeling him inside me again is what I’ve been thinking about since we left Vegas.

He moans my name. I love hearing him say my name. Actually, the man could say anything and I would probably love it.

We kiss, touch, feel.

Our legs tangle into each other, and he pulls away. “Be right back,” he says, jumping off the bed.

Seems like an eternity passes before he steps back in the room, wearing a wicked grin on his face.

“What are you up to?” I ask.

And then I see it... his camera.

“Is this ok?” He holds it up.

“You want to take pictures of me?”

“Yes. If you don’t want to…” his voice trails off.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“No, I swear. Chelsea, no one will ever see these but us. Ok?”

I believe him. “Ok,” I agree.

He sets the camera up on a tripod, positioning it for the bed, and smiles. “Ready?”

“Lights, camera, action and all that jazz,” I say as he flicks the camera on and grabs the remote.

“Get ready for your close up.”

He climbs onto the bed, his rough palms running over my skin, and crashes his lips to mine.

Hands roam everywhere, unable to get close enough. His touch is filled with a raw passion I’ve never experienced before. A passion I want over and over for the rest of my life.

“Smile for the camera, baby,” he whispers in my ear.

I try to forget the camera’s even there, but now I want to look good for it. Slowing my movements, I try to be as sexy as I can.

Desire pours through me as a hazy fog settles over my brain.

Jonah stills, watching me as I play with my breasts for the camera.

“God damn, your tits are tailor-made just for me.”

I savor his words as he licks his full, hungry lips.

“I know you like this,” I say, pinching my nipples between my fingers.

He groans. “I can’t take it anymore. I need to fuck you,” he husks out, grabbing his dick with one hand. The tip glides through my wetness, teasing me, before he pulls back and strokes his cock a little faster.

“On your hands and knees,” he instructs me.

When I get in position he slaps my ass, and then again a little harder. The sensation sends a jolt of electricity dashing through me. A tantrum of lust and energy entwine, raging through me.

I want to feel every inch of him. And it’s a lot of inches I’m begging for.

He grabs a handful of my ass with both hands, and strings together some unintelligible words.

I can’t take much more. He teases my opening for a few seconds, running his length along my heated, wet skin, then slams into me in one fervent motion. His thundering pace has me moaning into the pillow as he continues working my body.

The sensation of him deep inside me, stretching me, is indescribable. He fucks me with abandon.

He doesn’t slow, even for a second.

“I can’t wait to watch this. Watch me fucking you.”

I moan yes, or at least I try to.

“I’ll jerk off everyday to these photos and then come back and fuck you harder.”

As if he could do it any harder. His words egg me on to push my ass against him.

“That’s right, baby, fuck me,” he urges.

His big hands continue with my ass, slapping, rubbing, tugging on each cheek. My orgasm builds low in my belly. My peak nears at a galloping speed.

My control dissolves as his fingers sweep along my curves, making me ache with desire.

I match his movements, biting along the pillow as my body quickly climbs. “Oh God,” I moan.

“You make me so hard all the time. Do you like knowing that I want to fuck you all the time?”

“Yes.” My heart beats so fast, I fear it may rip out of my chest.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. I jerk off thinking about being inside you.”

He reaches his hand around to toy with my clit. My orgasm plows through me like a barrage of bullets. Each shake and pulse sends another sensation kicking my body into overdrive.

I can’t stop the cries that fly from my mouth. I can’t stop the tremors coursing through my body. It’s an outpouring of every emotion I have for him.

Lust, desire, friendship, want, need...maybe even love?

I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, honestly. But, it’s ferocious, clawing its way right smack into the center of my heart and clinging on for dear life.

He thrusts into me a few more times, seizing every part of my body.

It turns me on more knowing he’s so into it. That he wants nothing more than to feel me around him when he reaches his climax. When he comes, it's the sexiest thing ever. His body shaking, his grunts and moans, him calling out my name.

He runs his hand up my back, after his movements have stilled, and whispers, “I love being inside you.”

Tiny bursts of happiness ignite along my skin. He pulls out, and flips me over, cupping my face in his palms. “I really do love everything about being here with you.”

I reach up, running my fingers through his beard. “We click.”

A smile pulls at his lips. “Yeah, I get it.”

See? He's perfect. I didn't even have to say it this time.

After the camera is put away, and we’re ready for bed, he snuggles behind me.

“Sweet dreams, Chelsea,” he whispers by the light of the moon.

“You too.” And I drift off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, I’m out of the house before Jonah even wakes. I shoot him a text, letting him know about my audition. About twenty minutes later, he sends one back telling me I got this.

I’m a nervous wreck. Everyone in this room appears to have more experience than me. But, I can’t let that deter me.

I can do this.

While I run the lines over and over in my head, my confidence wanes a bit listening to my competition’s conversation.

“I did a small part in Oliver Stone’s newest movie,” a blonde, sitting across from me, says.

“Oh really? I think I auditioned for that one. I did a commercial a while back, and I have been swamped with work from it,” the brunette next to her counters, glancing at her phone. She looks up and studies me. “Aren’t you that model from Bunny Hunnies?”

“Uh, yes.” I smile as everyone in the room stares.

“From that Viking spread. Yeah, my boyfriend bought me some maiden outfit after seeing that,” she says, leaning forward a bit to whisper, “Problem is, he went to the costume shop and not the lingerie department.”

“Idiot,” the blonde next to her says, laughing.

“I didn’t know if people were really into that sort of thing,” I say.

“Well, I’m not. It’s why we broke up,” the tall brunette says.

The blonde receptionist narrows her eyes at me when my phone dings with a message. It’s my dad wishing me luck. I send back a thanks, and cross my legs as I wait for my name to be called.

Deep breath. I can do this.

My name’s called after a few more minutes, and I enter the room and stand by the door.

Two smiling men sit in gray chairs behind a small table. One bald. The other with so much hair, Donald Trump would be jealous.

“Come in,” the bald man eyes the clipboard in his hand, “Chelsea Sincock? You don’t have an agency listed here.”

I smile and shake his hand. “I’m currently without representation.”

The two men pass a look. “Very well. This is Frances, he’ll be reading with you.”

They already don’t look very impressed, but I let that feeling roll off my shoulders as I try to get into character. Think deranged. I look over at the lanky blond who will be the object of my affections and smile. And then I lose myself in Gretchen.

We read the lines, and I picture Jonah with me instead of Frances. Jonah is definitely stalkworthy. When the scene is over, there is silence.

“Thank you for your time,” I say, turning to leave.

“Chelsea, please have a seat. Frances can you go tell Arlene at the front we’ve found her.”

“What did you say?” A million happy birds flutter about my insides. My smile is huge. Like my cheeks are becoming a little sore from smiling too much.

“We’d like to offer you the part,” the bald man says. “Oh dear, where are my manners? My name’s Les Weinstein. This is Gary James.”

I shake both their hands with my very jittery one. I’m still in shock.

They go over a few small details and mention an agent who will handle the contract.

“Carol Hale is great,” Gary tells me. “She’ll go over everything the studio expects.”

“I think they’ll want to convey the girl next door image here,” Les says, waving his finger over me.

“Ok.” I nod and keep nodding as they tell me a few things.

Good girl image.

Good reputation.

Single.

“Are you dating anyone?”

“Yes, will that be a problem?” I ask. Now I’m nervous.

Les shakes his head. “No, no. It’s fine. But let’s keep it hush hush for now.”

I nod again.

“Chelsea, any skeletons in your closet?” Gary asks with a little laugh.

“Skeletons?” I ask, blankly. My mind won’t compute. At all. “No. My closet only has clothes.”

He chuckles. “Very good. We’ll contact Carol, and she’ll be in touch.”

I shake their hands again and walk out the door. Scratch that. Float out the door. I did it.

But, it’s all surreal. I don’t know what to do. Who do I call? Jonah, of course. I can’t wait to tell him.

Eeekk.