Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Inside the elevator, Ines punctuated each word by hitting the back of her head against the cold steel of the wall behind her.

She winced and rubbed the spot on her scalp that made contact to the hard surface. It hurt, but she deserved it. She should have called ahead to confirm the appointment. If she had, she wouldn't have just broken into a complete stranger's apartment. Okay so the receptionist did tell her she was expected. But maybe he thought she was someone else.

However that was not the problem. Her concern was Kilborne himself. He now knew her name. What if she ran into him again? As first impressions went, it was a disaster. She did not come off as very professional, and he was a film producer of some renown. What if he let on that she was some crazy woman who barged into people's homes uninvited? She'd be lucky to get a job passing around call sheets.

Her heart sank. There goes my career.

The man at the reception desk averted his eyes when he saw her, and was suddenly very engrossed reading a large binder that was propped open on the desk.

It seemed odd that he didn't have anything to say to her. She half-expected to be questioned by security before they would let her leave. It seemed no one cared.

She hurried outside and waited on the front steps for the valet to return with the car.

Maybe she was making too big a deal out of this. Kilborne was a busy man. In his line of work, he must meet lots of people, most of them famous or important.

Surely he'd have forgotten all about this incident by tomorrow. In fact, he'd probably already forgotten her as soon as he tossed her out of his apartment.

She nodded to herself. Yes, definitely. There was no need to worry about Kilborne. It was best to just put all this behind her.

***

Mason's breath was heavy as he stroked his cock. His left hand fumbled to turn off the shower.

Behind his half-closed eyes, he saw the girl. The evening dress was discarded; she was completely naked. He was still in his gym shorts. They were in the balcony. She was smiling and rubbing up against him like an affectionate kitten.

Mr. Kilborne, she purred. Please take me. Now. Her teeth raked over her lower lip and her eyes looked up at him beseechingly. I want you so much.

He held her by the shoulders and pushed her away gently but firmly. Ms. Andrada, he said, I'm afraid I cannot be with a woman who will only fuck me for money.

She threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. Her breath tickled his throat as she pleaded, I swear, I don't want your money. I only want you. She pushed her firm, creamy breasts against his chest. He could feel her nipples turn hard like little rocks against his bare skin.  The moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew I could never let any other man touch me.

He slid his hands down her backside and cupped her enticingly rounded ass cheeks. What about Michael? And all your other clients?

She kissed his throat. Her tongue darted out to lick his flesh from his neck down his chest. I'd rather starve than let another man have me. Her lips closed on one of his nipples. She let hot wet tongue swirled around it before she began to lick it, running it up and down the flat of her tongue.

Mason's eyes flew open. He found himself staring at the blue and grey marble tiles of the bathroom wall. His breathing grew faster as he jerked his now-fully engorged dick.

Bloody hell, he muttered. He hadn't had a woman in far too long. The mess with Cassandra Thorne two weeks ago had left a bad taste in his mouth; he hadn't seen anyone since then. Was he now so sexually starved he was jacking off to every woman he came in contact with?

He shut his eyes again.

In one she fluid movement she was on her knees, dragging his shorts and boxers down his legs.

How huge! she cried out, staring at his penis in amazement. It stood proud and erect at an angle pointing directly at her face.

Come now, Ms. Andrada. Surely you must have seen many large dicks in your line of work.

I've never seen one as big as this. She looked up at him. Please, let me taste it.

Without waiting for a reply, she grasped his cock with both hands. She stroked it slowly, lovingly once, twice. Then she licked her lips and stuffed the entire length of his member in her mouth.

Grunting furiously, Mason pressed his left hand on the bathroom wall for support. His right hand moved faster up and down his cock. He opened his eyes and stared at the white and gold speckled pattern on the marble, but all he could see was the girl. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him, her lips around his shaft.

He stoodstill, not daring to move. Her head bobbed up and down as her mouth worked upand down his cock.

Oh kitten, he growled. He squeezed his eyes shut and let pleasure of his building orgasm surge through his body. His sharp cry echoed through the bathroom as he came.

Mason opened his eyes and cleared the images of his fantasy from his mind. He took deep breaths as he turned on the shower.

Christ, he needed to get laid.

***

"Nice to see you're back on the saddle," Jamie Kilborne said.

Mason looked away from the women chatting animatedly over lunch three tables away and faced Jamie. He frowned, annoyed at his cousin's knowing smirk. "It's heartening to know my personal life matters so much to you, Jamie," he said.

Jamie shrugged. "I'm a married man. You can't blame me for trying to live vicariously through you." He took as sip of his bellini. "Teagan's great — don't get me wrong. And I love my kids. But I rather miss the thrill of the chase sometimes."

Jamie had arrived at the apartment around noon with an entire catering staff for the party. While the staff was busy prepping for the evening, Jamie and Mason decided to have lunch out. They were a very new, very exclusive Italian restaurant in West Hollywood. The food was decent, although not as authentic as Mason would have liked.

"The chase, my dear cousin, is vastly overrated. You're lucky you're not in any danger of sleeping with any of the psychos out there."

"Ah, you mean Cassandra Thorne." Jamie chuckled. "Messy, was it?"

Mason shook his head and took a swig of his beer. "It was a disaster." At Jamie's raised eyebrow, he added, "I'm not talking about it."

"Oh come now. Throw me a bone here."

"Jamie, please. When a woman stoops so low that she steals a man's clothes and—"

"You mean your pants."

"Not talking about it." Mason nodded toward to his left. "Lauren Burke is finally out of rehab, I see."

Jamie turned to look. "Oh yes. Her agent's been hounding me for months, trying to get her a part in YA novel adaptation I'm making."

"You're not interested? She's quite talented — despite her penchant for the occasional blow."

"Hmmm." Jamie grinned as he watched the rather listless young woman in sunglasses sip her latte. "An unfortunate choice of words, Mason."

"Christ, Jamie. She's eighteen."

Jamie raised his hands in surrender. "You brought it up, not me." His eyes darted to his left and he broke out into a wide smile. "Rachel!" he said, pushing his chair back as he stood up.

A tall, svelte brunette in a lose midriff-baring sports shirt, cropped jeans and sunglasses walked up to him and shook his hand. "Jamie," she said, beaming. "So good to see you." Her eyes fell on Mason and she gave him a dimpled smile.

"I didn't know you were in town." Jamie seemed reluctant to let go of her hand. "Weren't you at the Colburn twins' birthday party?"

"I took the red-eye from JFK right after. Had to be at the agency office at nine a.m." She took off her glasses. "Didn't get much sleep. I look like an absolute hag." She stole a glance at Mason, who didn't bother to hide his appraisal.

A model, by the looks of her. Black, straight hair flowed like silk over her shoulders. Her exposed midriff showed sun-kissed model-perfect skin. On her high block heels, she stood at almost the same height as Jamie's six feet frame. From where he sat, Mason couldn't fail to notice spectacular curve of her backside.

"Absolute nonsense," Jamie said. "You're as beautiful as always."

"Thank you." She fluttered her eyelashes shyly. "You're ... having lunch?"

"Yes, we were. Apologies, this is my cousin Mason."

Mason stood up and offered his hand. She took it, and gave him a smile.

"Mason Kilborne," he said.

"Oh my. You're British too," she said, her eyes widening in surprise. "I'm Rachel Amsler. So nice to meet you. I'm here to grab lunch with a couple of girls from work." Her eyes were the color of dark, wet leaves. The way they gazed up at him, there was no mistaking her interest. "Are you in the business too, Mason?"

He grinned. "Unfortunately. Are you an actress, Rachel?"

She laughed. "One day, I hope. Until then I'm just a plain old model."

Jamie cleared his throat. "Are you free tonight?" he said. "I'm throwing Austin Linney a birthday party at Mason's apartment."

"Well," she said, reluctantly turning away from Mason back to Jamie. "I do have a shoot tonight. Some hotel thing. But it would have been so nice to meet Austin, I'm such a huge fan."

"That's too bad, but if you're not—"

"What about tomorrow night?" Mason cut in. "Dinner?"

"I'd love to," she said. "Uhm..." She looked awkwardly back at Jamie.

"Just the two of us," Mason said.

"It's a date then." She flashed her dimple again. "I should give you my number."

Mason unlocked his phone and handed it to her.

"You don't mind, do you?" Mason said after Rachel had left.

"Why would I mind?" Jamie was still staring at her back as she walked toward her table on the far corner of the restaurant. "It's not like I was going to ask her out or anything. It's not that I'm bitter you can seem to get any woman in L.A. with a crook of your finger."

"You shouldn't. Your wife is lovely. Also, I sometimes crook my finger at women outside L.A."

Jamie cocked an eyebrow. "You're lucky I'm shackled, mate. I may be forty-five, but I could still give you a run for your money, pretty boy."

Mason chuckled. "I don't doubt it."

He turned to look at Rachel. She was talking to a friend but she paused when she caught his glance. She smiled back, waving her hand.

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Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks to everyone who voted.