Page 13 of Hollywood Crush

And I knew then that I liked him. The man was gorgeous, of course, but to see him here in his element and sharing his love for something just unlocked a deep want inside of me. I leaned in and kissed him, wine stained lips and all.

He pulled back and looked at me, as if confused. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to-”

But he cut me off with a kiss, hesitant at first but then more confident. I felt a little wine slosh out of the glass and on to my hand as he kissed me harder, his free hand winding itself into the top of my shirtbuttons and keeping me close to him.

“We…shouldn’t….be…doing…this…” I muttered between kisses halfheartedly. I knew we shouldn’t. But I had wanted Tudor since the second I clapped eyes on him.

Tudor pulled back. His eyes were glassy with desire but also as he had drank just as much wine as I had. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, then seemed to answer himself. “I should stop.”

So I did the only thing my brain would have called logical in that moment. I grabbed him by the wait and pulled him into me.

Just as my lips pressed into his, we were interrupted by the sound of glass smashing. Somehow in my eagerness and tipsiness I had completely forgotten about the wine glass I was holding. Red stained the concrete floor and there were shards everywhere.

“Shit, sorry.” I leaned down to pick up the pieces but Tudor took my hands in his. “Come on,” he said. “That’s my job tomorrow.” Tudor put his own glass of wine down on the floor.

Tudor led me out of the room and down the hallway towards his bedroom. He unlocked the door. The room reminded me of the foyer and dining room, much more dated and cluttered compared to the ultra chic rooms in the cast corridor but much more homely. The bed in the centre of the room looked comfortable, a big four-postered mahogany thing. Instead of leading methere, Tudor pulled me into the bathroom. He turned on the shower.

“Come on, let’s get you out of those clothes before it stains your skin.” Tudor pulled his own shirt up over his head in one smooth motion, and I had a little trouble focusing for a second. His body was gorgeous, as I’d noticed in the gym, with a smattering of dark blonde chest hair and a happy trail that promised things running from bellybutton down past his waistline.

I looked up into Tudor’s eyes and he just nodded down at my chest with a wry smile. When I looked down I realised in shock that I had red wine all over my clothes. They might have been casual, but they were expensive enough designer brands. I ripped off my t-shirt and trousers as quickly as I could. “Fuck them,” I said. Tudor leaned over to turn on the shower.

“Joining me?” he asked. He turned away from me and pulled down his trousers and boxers. His back was a smooth plane of muscle from working out, and his arse, like his chest, had a little blonde peach fuzz that got darker closer to the centre.

Without waiting for a reply he stepped into the shower, scrubbing idly at himself but resolutely facing away from me. He was giving me a chance to back away now that the initial frenzy of passion had faded. Rivulets of water ran down his back and over an arse I wanted to touch. I pulled down my own briefs and left them on the tiled floor, andstepped into the shower with him.

I was shorter than Tudor, so kissed his back at first. He tilted his head back so that his lips touched mine. I allowed my hands to roam down his back and to cup his arse. I teased fingers over his hips as he continued to kiss me under the spray and moved my hands forward towards his cock. It felt big in my hands, and I lazily stroked backwards and forwards. I was already hard, and my cock brushed up against his arse as we kissed slowly and passionately. The water was hot, but I felt like I was on fire when he kissed me. Like we were somehow burning up.

“No,” Tudor muttered.

“No?” Was I doing something wrong?

“Let me…” Tudor turned to face me under the spray and took my face in his hands. “Let me take control.” Tudor pushed me up against the cold tiles and deepened the kiss, both hands exploring my body before bringing his hand to hold both of our cocks at once. He stroked us together and made me groan. Between kisses he gently nipped at my lip, occasionally exploring with his mouth and biting gently at my neck or collarbones. When I moved to do the same to me, his free hand came up to hold me against the wall by my neck. He was gentle enough that I knew I could break out or ask him to stop, but I knew he wanted to be in control. And I was good with that.

His hand tightened on my neck as he stroked usfaster, drawing moans and noises from me I didn’t even know I could make. “I want you to come for me,” he said, low and deep. He forced my head upwards with the hand on my neck and kissed me, totally controlling the situation and sending me completely over the edge. I came just seconds before he did, both of us spilling all over his hand and dripping onto the floor. He kissed me once more before removing his hand from both of our cocks and the other from my throat.

‘Let me take care of you,” said Tudor. Gently, he rubbed away any sticky residue and moved his hands gently up my chest and over my shoulders. “Are you OK?” he asked. I nodded. I could feel my mouth pulling up at the corners. “Just, the thing is…I tend to take control too much sometimes. And I know that can scare some people, and-”

I cut him off with a quick kiss under the shower spray. “It was good,” I reassured him. “Great, even. Turn around.”

He did, and I lathered shower gel on my hands before washing him down too, cupping his arse in my hands before moving round to the front to run my fingers over his chest, hair parting beneath my fingers. I realised suddenly how lonely I had been feeling on set, how it felt nice not just to have sex, but to be intimate with someone. I kissed at his neck again, not getting hard or horny particularly, just enjoying what we had in the moment.

“Can I stay here tonight?” I asked, almostsurprising myself.

“You already do,” Tudor muttered in response.

“No, I mean…here. With you.”

“Of course, come on,” said Tudor. He shut off the water, took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom.

Chapter Six

Tudor

I awoke, as usual in the summer, to a demanding alarm and to sunshine finding its way through moth-bitten curtains that were slowly falling apart.

I stretched out, feeling particularly content and rested for the first time in a while. I had shown someone my secret sanctuary, shared my plans for the future, and…oh, fuck.

My leg had come to rest against another in the bed and I knew in that moment that I had completely and utterly fucked up. I looked over at Daniel, gorgeous tussled Hollywood hair and relaxed face even in sleep, and I started to panic a little bit. Why had I let things go as far as they had last night? And why had I pushed so hard for it?

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