“Fine with me.” Cameron happily stared at Walker’s tight ass and broad back as he pulled the necessary supplies from high up in the closet. Even just being away from him for these few seconds was making Cameron go into withdrawal. He didn’t know how he made it two days. And then he wondered how he was going to make it once he moved to LA.
The thought was shuffled away as soon as Walker tugged Cameron to the edge of the bed and threw his legs over one shoulder. Cameron exhaled as Walker’s thick cock slid inside him. Lust filled Walker’s eyes, and it sure as hell filled Cameron’s, too. His bicep bulged against Cameron’s legs as he squeezed them harder and rammed into Cameron’s opening.
And then they did something that Cameron had never done with anyone else during sex. They locked eyes, really locked eyes. Cameron could hear the clink of the lock locking and being unable to tear himself away. He didn’t want to.
“Fuck!” Walker was getting close, Cameron could tell. And that made him get close. And it seemed like Walker could sense that he was getting close which made him get even closer.
“Fuck!” Cameron yelled. “Don’t stop!”
Walker didn’t. He spread Cameron’s legs and plunged in even deeper, sending Cameron’s back arching up in pleasure.
Cameron heaved in air but couldn’t catch his breath. His heart raced as he hurtled toward an orgasm. Walker pulled out and stroked their cocks together, and they both emptied out across Cameron’s chest.
Walker covered Cameron again, giving him warmth. Cameron kissed him softly, lips only. He ran a hand through Walker’s beard. Words hung on his tongue. Big words.
But he wouldn’t let himself say them. That was the orgasm talking, he thought.
Φ
Cameron’s stomach rumbled with hunger as he showered. He hoped the pot roast and mashed potatoes didn’t get too cold. They sounded so good right now.
“Your phone’s been buzzing like crazy,” Walker said as Cameron changed.
“Must be all my other boyfriends wondering where I am.”
“Tell them to come over. I made way too much food.”
Cameron pulled on his jeans and dug out his phone from the pocket. Two missed calls from a 310 area code. “That’s Los Angeles,” he said.
He dialed back the number.
“Arthur Brandt’s office,” an assistant said.
Cameron mouth went dry. He made sure he was dressed before continuing. “Hi. This is Cameron Buckley. I saw two missed calls—”
“One moment. I’ll put you through. Arthur? You have Cameron Buckley.”
“Cameron!” Arthur said. “What’s up?”
“Not much. Just doing my thing, I guess.” He didn’t know how he should’ve answered that. He needed to be on.
“I have good news. TheMakeshift Corianderscript is close to being greenlit. We’re going to make offers to some top actresses, one of whom was recently nominated for an Oscar.”
“That’s awesome!”
“Hopefully you’ll be here as we put the movie into production.”
“What?”
“I want you to be my new assistant.”
Cameron sat on the bed. Wait, he was already sitting on the bed. His heart might have stopped beating. Nope, still ticking away.
“My old assistant got promoted to manager, and the two assistants I’ve had to replace him have been total shit. Millennials. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“Listen, I know you’re super green, but I could tell by talking to you that you’re smart, you’re passionate, and you know your shit.”
