We Are Made of Stardust by Mimi Strong

Author:Mimi Strong
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781484968048
Publisher: Mimi Strong
Published: 2013-06-22T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

Dalton sighed from his side of the phone call. “I’d better get back over there. Next time I do this, remind me that there’s no such thing as a simple film.”

“I’m glad you called.”

“You know, you could call me for a change. It would go a long ways to making me feel like I don’t smell like garbage.”

“You smell good, trust me. I can’t wait to smell you again.”

“Really? Even the armpits?” He laughed.

“I hope you’re not ticklish, because I plan to nuzzle your armpits.”

“Fuck me, but that sounds fucking hot. HOT.”

The customer browsing the books showed signs of interest in my conversation, so I covered the receiver with my hand and whispered, “I’m going to do bad things to you.”

“Whatever you do to me, I’m going to serve you back. Double.”

“In that case, there’s going to be a lot of licking.”

He answered with a growl.

“How’s the movie shoot going?” I asked.

“Aren’t you full of questions. You haven’t explained why you ran out on me last night.”

“I got scared.”

“Scared of what? I’m not the big, bad wolf. Not unless you want me to be. Peaches Monroe, do you want me to huff and puff and blow your house down?”

I giggled in response.

There was a long pause, and I heard his muffled voice as he talked to someone else on his side.

“We’re going to be filming late tonight, doing some night scenes,” he said when he came back. “Actually, that’s the bad news. I won’t be able to see you until Saturday at the soonest.”

“So, I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Will you call me baby again?”

“Saturday, baby.”

He groaned. “Your voice. It’s like launch control for my pants, if you know what I mean.”

I cupped my hand over my mouth and the receiver again and whispered, “Am I making you hard, baby? Do you want me to ride your pony?”

He chuckled. “You can ride my pony any time, but you need to get on top.”

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“You will ride me, and you’ll call me Lionheart. I want to feel your fingernails digging into my chest as you throw your head back and ride me senseless, crying out, ‘Faster, Lionheart, you little stud-pony, faster!’"

I fanned my face with my hand. He sure could paint a vivid scene.

A white-curled lady with a coral necklace and matching sunglasses approached the counter with her romance novels. She coughed politely to get my attention.

“Thank you, sir, for the special order,” I said with a professional tone into the mouthpiece. “We’ll have that particular item ready for you Saturday. What time will you be by?”

“I’ll come to your house in the morning. Is ten too early?”

“Not at all,” I breathed. “I look forward to it.”

Someone hip-checked me, nearly knocking me over, wrapped up in the phone cord as I was.

Amy, my employee, was there for her shift, and she’d simply shoved me out of the way so she could ring up the coral-necklace-wearing customer expediently.

After the lady paid and left with her smutty novels, Amy turned to

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