(Good in the Zak Series Book 2) Better in the Zak: - MFF Romance by Jess Savage

Author:Jess Savage [Savage, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

As soon as the photos started circulating online, I sent them to Chance.

Me: These should warm you up.

I left my phone on the bed and hit the shower. I was so twisted up, I should've called Audrey. Seeing the chemistry between Minnie and me caught on film? Knowing Chance was looking at them? It got me going in the worst way.

What was Chance doing to himself as he looked at those images? I ran it over and over in my head: sometimes he was a hundred percent into it, on my side, wanting us both.

Sometimes he was hard and taking himself in hand, even as he gritted his teeth with jealousy. That was even better. If I was missing him, I needed him to ache to be close to me.

If I texted Audrey, she'd be at the front door in two minutes, but I didn't I want that. Or more honestly, I didn't want Minnie to hear us.

The thing about good girls was they had lots of pain-in-the-ass Victorian Era rules about sex. But still… I thought if I played my cards right, I might get Minnie to get a little more affectionate with me.

Groaning with frustration, I stepped out of the shower, wrapping myself in a towel. The terrycloth scratched my oversensitive skin, aggravating and unpleasant.

That's when the stress of the whole trip caught up with me. The strange hours, the unfamiliar faces, the pressure of filming.

Still damp, I grabbed my favorite lotion and headed back into the master bedroom. Each scissor of my bare legs against each other agitating me a little, inflaming that little bud of nerves burning a low fever. Texts from Chance awaited me.

Chance: Wow

Chance: You win. I AM totally crying. DAMN. Looks like you and Minnie are getting along.

Chance: I miss you.

Chance: Tell that swimsuit I said hi and I want to see it again real soon.

Me: What are you doing right now?

Me: To yourself.

He didn't answer. I figured he'd gone before getting my messages, was doing a scene, perhaps out to dinner or even taking a quick nap.

I lay on the bed, replaying the night we'd had together in my mind, waiting for him to respond. After a few minutes, I stood in front of the mirror, studying my face as I thought about him in bed, noticing which expressions were the most attractive or compelling so I could roll these memories into my acting.

If I didn't come, I could think about him all night and blame my aching desire for him. If I did, and my thoughts cleared, and I still missed him? I might have to worry. It was one thing to be hard up and flirtatious, wanting someone so badly you couldn't think of anything else. It was another, much more pitiful thing, to be lonesome for someone, to need them around just to feel right.

It might start to feel like the La Brea Tar Pits, where you might believe you could pull yourself to safety, but an eon of history knew girls like you would only get more trapped the more you struggle.

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