Hot Set (Art of Love #2)

Chapter Twenty Alex

T his was it. There were very few times in my life that I felt I was making a truly life-altering, permanent decision, but this was one of them. I hated airports for all the same reasons that I liked the movie studio. Both were loud and bustling, overflowing with too many people in too crammed a space. From experience, I knew that TSA would be a nightmare. At least this would be a short flight. One way too.

My toes curled inside my sneakers. One way.

I was going away from my mom, from the movie set, from everyone. From Brandon .

And Brandon loved me.

He’d been willing to try a long-distance relationship, even. A lump formed in my throat, making it hard to breathe. This should be the most thrilling moment of my entire life, planning to go off and work for the FBI. This was my dream, everything that all my years of academic work had built up to. I would be a fool to waste it all now, here on the verge of getting what I’d always wanted.

But Brandon.

He was the one thing keeping me from my dream, but he was a big thing. As I gazed over the expanse of the airport, I pictured his shining blue eyes and his gold hair. I imagined his smile, always so soft and so patient. And a warm feeling spread through me. I just wanted to sink into it. Around me, everything seemed to fade away as if into another world.

I curled my fingers so tightly around my suitcase that they hurt. Slowly, my feet seemed to move of their own accord, drifting backward and away from all the trouble and traffic of the airport. Back to the set, back to everyone, but above all else, back to Brandon. All my worries seemed to melt away, the further I got from the airport. Brandon and I could figure it out. We would figure it out. Any problems that arose, we’d figure them out. It could really be that simple. It would be that simple.

My mind suddenly broke free from the daze it had been in, and the world was thrust into sharp, glass-like clarity. Brandon.

I took off running, my feet pounding on the tiles as they took me further and further from the airport, away from my flight, and away from the FBI. Everything seemed insignificant beside the thought of seeing Brandon again. By the time I’d reached the parking lot, I was out of breath. My chest ached, and I gasped for air as I flagged down a taxi.

As I slipped into the back seat, my blood roared in my ears.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Bluehaven,” I said, hastily rambling out the movie studio’s address.

Brandon would be there. An excited shiver trailed down my spine. He wouldn’t expect me. This would catch him completely off-guard, but the thought of seeing him again and breathing in the spicy, forested scent of his cologne was too glorious, too compelling to ignore. I let out a sharp breath of air and watched the buildings pass in a blur. This taxi ride was going to feel like an eternity.

The taxi dropped me off outside the studio with my suitcase and my carry-on luggage. My heart pounded so loudly I heard its beat reverberating in my skull, a steady thump. As I pushed the door open, my hand shook. A burst of warmth and sound rushed over me. The set looked just like when I’d left, but somehow, impossibly, I’d expected there to be some monumental change.

I drifted in, my heart racing. It felt as though I’d suddenly arrived in a movie, and I drifted across the set, rolling my suitcase behind me. I could imagine how it would all play out on camera. I’d look across the crowds of people, all lost in their work, and I’d see Brandon.

“Aren’t you supposed to be catching a flight?”

My fantasies fell apart. I shivered and spun around to face the owner of that warm, wonderful voice. “Brandon,” I said, all other words falling away.

Just his name. Maybe that was enough.

My heart pounded so loudly that I heard it echoing in my head. I sucked in a sharp breath of air along with the smell of Brandon’s cologne and acrylic paint. And somewhere along the way, I had forgotten how to think.

When I moved forward and pressed my lips to Brandon’s, it was as if I existed outside my own body, just for an instant. Then, the world shifted into brilliant clarity. Brandon twirled his fingers in my hair and pulled himself against me. His lips were soft and hot, and my thoughts grew heady at the heat between us. I pushed myself against him and dug my fingers into the fabric of his shirt. I kissed him again and again, savoring the feel of his lips against mine and the scent of him and the warmth from his skin. A low groan tore from me, and with a sharp suddenness, Brandon pulled back. His lips remained slightly parted, as he breathed in. I drank in greedy gulps of air, torn between steadying myself and pushing myself toward him once again.

“Alex, why are you here?” Brandon asked, his brow furrowing. “I thought you were supposed to go—”

“I was,” I said, nervous energy coursing through me, “But I couldn’t do it. Not when I thought about you.”

Brandon looked around. Our display hadn’t gone unnoticed. A few of the extras stared at us. Seth’s loud wolf-whistle split the air. Heat rushed to my face as Brandon’s gaze snapped back to me. Nervous energy flitted through me, like lightning across a summer sky. I thought of kissing him again, despite the people watching.

But that was getting ahead of myself.

“When I thought about us,” I added. “Could we go… somewhere more private? To your office or something?”

Brandon nodded, and we crossed the set and crammed into his office. It wasn’t much, and Brandon, who preferred working on the set, rarely used the room. Instead, it was a dumping ground for props, make-up, and lost items. Brandon locked the door behind us, before giving me a tentative look. Then, he moved aside a pile of fabric, freeing up a chair. Seeing there were no other seats, he climbed onto the broad, flat surface of his desk and sat there. “So, you…you’re here,” Brandon said, letting out a small laugh. “That’s—”

“A bad choice?” I asked. “No, not that. An illogical choice. But Brandon, I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I think—no, I know—that if I have to choose between the FBI and you, it’s you.”

“But why can’t you have both?” Brandon asked quietly.

“Because I don’t want to have a long-distance relationship with you. That isn’t enough for me. I want to see you and talk to you and touch you.” I paused. “And have sex with you. Because that was pretty great, even though I acted so awkwardly about it.”

“You had a lot to figure out,” Brandon said.

“I know. I’m only sorry it took me so long.”

Brandon let out an audible breath of air. “I didn’t think it took you all that long.”

“So, what happens now?” I asked.

“Whatever you want,” Brandon said.

I gathered my courage and stood. Slowly, I leaned forward, Brandon’s knees pressing against my thighs, and kissed him. His lips were as soft as I remembered; he smelled like I remembered. I shivered as Brandon’s hands found the small of my back and pulled me close against him. I swallowed hard and kept kissing him, as if the world were ending tomorrow and kissing Brandon might be the only way to save it.

Brandon’s hands were on my hips, and he broke our kiss, his eyes questioning. I bit my lip, as desire curled in my belly. The room seemed too warm with just the two of us in here. “Can anyone hear us?” I asked.

“Not in here,” Brandon said. “Soundproof.”

“Any chance you’ll be missed?” This was bolder than I usually was, and I decided I liked that, this new, bolder version of myself.

“So, we could…?” I trailed off and arched an eyebrow.

Brandon grinned. His hands went to the zipper of my pants and pulled it down. The sound seemed disproportionately loud in the room. I pulled my pants and boxers down in quick succession, drawing a laugh from Brandon. “Eager, aren’t you?” he asked.

“If you aren’t—” I began.

Brandon kissed my collarbone and trailed kisses down my chest, while his hands coaxed apart my thighs. Every touch felt like lightning coursing through me. Brandon tilted his head. “On the desk,” he said.

We switched positions, and Brandon dropped to his knees before me. “I hope you don’t think I’ve gotten miraculously better at this,” I said.

Brandon grasped my hips and shifted his weight forward. “That’s why we’ll have to practice,” he said, his eyes bright with mischief.

I propped myself up on my forearms and watched as Brandon took my tip in his mouth. I was already half-hard. Brandon wouldn’t have to do much. I watched, fascinated, as he took me fully in his mouth. His tongue swirled around my shaft, sending warm jolts through me. I gasped and tipped my head back as heat rushed through me. My legs trembled, and my toes curled. Every movement of Brandon’s tongue made my cock twitch. My hips shifted, seemingly of their own accord.

Heat rushed to my face. I curled my nails into the palms of my hands. Already, I felt the start of an orgasm curling in my belly. “God, you are good at this,” I said.

Brandon tipped his head back and put his hands where his mouth had been. I drew in a sharp breath of air as Brandon’s hands curled around my shaft, moving quickly up and down. “I’ve had practice,” Brandon said, grinning.

“Since me?” I asked.

“No, but I haven’t lost all my old skills,” Brandon said.

I was so heady from his touch and from the pressure building inside me, curling in my muscles, that I couldn’t think of a witty reply. I couldn’t think of much at all, actually. Then, the world turned soft and white, and time stood still. After I came, my body felt boneless against the desk. I laughed from the exhilaration of the feeling, while Brandon still hovered over me.

“Your turn, huh?” I asked.

“If you’re offering, of course.”

I climbed to my feet and pulled my pants back up. Brandon took my now-vacant place on the desk and gave me a “ come hither” look. I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and tugged on the denim. When they didn’t come off, Brandon smirked. “Lift your hips, you jerk,” I said, swatting at his thigh.

Brandon arched his back and lifted his hips off the table. I tugged down his jeans and boxers, pulling them past his knees. I took a deep breath and leaned forward, stroking the insides of his thighs. He was hard already. I took him into my mouth. He tasted and smelled of salt. I pressed my lips around his shaft and twisted my tongue around, licking and sucking. My movements were sloppy and frantic, the furthest thing from Brandon’s practiced movements. But he tensed beneath me, his muscles pulling taut and spurring on my every movement. I tried my best to copy what Brandon had done, but despite my enthusiasm, I felt as if I was missing all the beats. Practice, indeed.

But it would be wonderful practice. Brandon came, the taste familiar and thick. I swallowed and slowly tilted my head back. I licked the rest of him from my lips, the taste thick and salty. It really wasn’t that special a taste, but it was Brandon’s. I let out a contented sigh, as all my worries from the past weeks and months melted away into nothingness.

Brandon looked at me, his blue eyes dark and hazy.

“I love you,” I said. “I really do. More than anything. At the risk of sounding really sappy.”

Brandon laughed. “I don’t think it’s sappy.”

He twisted around the desk and grinning victoriously, pulled out a box of tissues. “Really,” he said. “I don’t think this is a bad way to spend a life. Making movies and having great sex. It’s kind of glamorous if you think about it.”

I smiled and wiped my chin and face with the tissue. “Yeah,” I said. “It kind of is.”

The End.

I hope you loved this book and ready for more! Have you read one of my opposites attract, enemies to lovers M/M romance… Letting Him In ? Read this one next.

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Part of me was glad he was dead. He robbed me of who I am, and when compared to each other, he was always the favored one.

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Come to find out, his loyal friend—one who I was quickly becoming attached to—plays more of a role than I thought.

Letting Him In is an opposites attract, enemies to lovers, small town M/M adult romance story with some steamy moments. This standalone novel takes place in Autumn and has a HEA.

Start reading Letting Him In right now!