Dirty Thoughts // Chloe Adams

I trudge into my hotel suite and drop onto the couch. Wasted. Not wasted in the fucking fun way. Wasted in the I-can't-do-one-more-thing-today way. Done.

We filmed our first action scene today, weeks after starting this movie. I haven't had time to keep up my full workouts around the shooting schedule. Zack kicked my ass for months to get me into shape but holy shit I've gone soft. Today wore me out.

I'm weak. I'll fully admit it to anyone who asks. I've got no stamina. Well, I have the stamina that counts. Although I haven't been able to put that to good use for far too fucking long.

I miss Char. I miss touching her, hearing the sexy sounds she makes, yeah. But it's so much deeper than that. I miss talking to her. I miss reading her moods. I miss sitting next to her even if we're saying nothing. I miss looking into her eyes and seeing the same feelings reflected in her gaze.

The interactions we've had aren't enough. Calls, texts, video chats that turn a little spicy...it all helps. But it's a tease more than anything. Not fully satisfying.

I need some face to face time with her. When I have a little more brain capacity, I'll take a closer look at our shooting schedule, see if I can find a couple days to be able to take off and see her. Hell, at this point I'll take a couple of hours. Just enough to get off a plane, get her off and head back here.

I close my eyes at the thought, simultaneous feelings of desire and shame warring with each other. Yes, I need to touch her but that shouldn't be my sole purpose of visiting her. And it wouldn't be. I'd honestly be absolutely fine to sit on the couch with my arms around her and feel her breathing. Watch her eat. Listen to her talk. Any fucking thing I can get.

It's not that hard.

I glance down at my lap and laugh. It actually is that hard and practically poking out of my pants, but that's biology. I can't stop my physical reaction to the memories of having her in my arms or hearing her moan any more than I can stop breathing. Instead, I change the focus of my thoughts, running over the next action sequence we'll be filming. A car chase through downtown L.A.

Our director is the new hot name in town so whatever he wants, he gets. Including a full police roadblock to shut down a major intersection for tomorrow's scene. The pressure I'm feeling is way outside the realm of anything I ever expected to have on my shoulders. I'm still an unknown. TMZ hasn't started stalking my hotel. But my gut is telling me that tomorrow's filming will be a game changer. It's out in public, for one thing. Not on a sound stage. Plus, Emily is a known celebrity and she'll be the other principal on set. She'll draw attention more than the fact that the intersection will be closed, and all foot traffic is being rerouted. Passersby will stop and gape. Tourists will film us on their phones and load it onto social media.

Shit. I started thinking about this to get my boner under control and now I'm about to hyperventilate.

I push myself off the couch. Maybe food will help. I'm a lucky sonofabitch to have a major studio putting me up in this suite, complete with a living area, full kitchen and separate bedroom. Doesn't even feel like I'm living in a hotel. This place is more like a condo with a cool view of the city from the twenty-fifth floor. I can even spy the Hollywood sign on the other side of the valley. Small, but definitely there. This place is better than my shitty apartment, that's for sure. Luxury I never had growing up. I know it's not forever so I'm enjoying it while I can.

Heading into the kitchen, I grab some almonds and a coconut water. I scoff, realizing Zack has trained me well. High protein, zero carb snacks for the win. I guzzle and munch while leaning over the high countertop. Lights from the city shine through the room, casting a glow on the walls. What is life that I'm living it like this?

And the girl of my dreams, who no longer hates me, isn't here to share it with me.

It fucking sucks to be away from her when everything else in my life is exactly what I always wanted. I hate it. I had no idea I'd be an all-in kind of guy, but the second Char opened up to the idea of us, I was. I am. And I'm dying to experience this life altering opportunity with her by my side.

Missing her so deep it's a physical ache, I reach for the pile of letters she's sent me. Once I sent her the god-awful love poem I wrote, she sent me one in return. I slept with the damn thing like a whipped sucker and I'm not even mad about it. I'd yell it to the world proudly. But having her words in my hands prompted me to write her a letter snail mail style. Then she did the same. Ever since, we've added paper/pencil letters to our calls and texts. It still doesn't fill in the holes of not having her here but at least it's something of her I can hold onto. I keep the poem in the pocket of my pants at all times.

I pick up the last letter she wrote me and sink into her words.

Jacob,

Do you know why I refused to call you by your given name for so long? I knew that once I gave in and saw the look on your face at hearing me say it, one of two things would happen. I'd either be convinced that you were a smug asshole, or I'd be a puddle of hot, melted woman at your feet.

Do you know which one it was? Do you even remember hearing me say it for the first time? Because I do. The answer is: massive melted puddle.

I wasn't miserable to be that puddle. I was so damn happy you proved me wrong about being smug and a jerk. I was so damn excited that you turned molted at hearing me say Jacob for the first time, I almost...almost...attacked you. I almost ripped your shirt right off so I could run my hands along your abs and lick my way up your chest. You had so much more restraint than I did and I'm grateful you made me wait.

The wait was worth it.

Because not only are you the hottest guy I've met, you've got the biggest heart, the best intentions, and the most perfect lips I've ever kissed.

I'm so proud of you. I'm so excited for you. And I miss you so deeply I can hardly take a breath. I'm counting the days until I see you again.

Your Char

Mine. She declared it on paper, 'your Char' and I inhaled it. Essential to life, this claim she has over me.

I pull another letter out from under this one. Sometimes our letters are deep and meaningful, thoughts we have about what we mean to each other. But this one, the next one I've grabbed, is fucking hot. She must have written it right after one of our sexy video chats because, damn. The things she wants to do to me...

My lips trail down your neck, your chest, past your stomach, following the happy trail of dark hair leading right.where.I.need.to.be

My mouth waters. I close my eyes at the silky heat. My lips tingle as I wrap them-

I have to stop reading. The dirty thoughts of her I'm having now are too much. I miss her too damn much. I love the desire she has for me but it's killing me to not have her in my arms. Either I think about her and burn with need or I think about filming and freak the fuck out with pressure. Something's got to give.

I'm exhausted and yet restless. Running a hand through my hair, sticky with product and needing a good scrub, I move back to the living room to grab my schedule for the next couple of weeks. I insisted that I have a paper copy rather than just the digital calendar my assistant made me. I need to be able to check things off and cross things out. Right now, the calendar glares back at me. I don't have a decent break for the foreseeable future. Sure, I'll get a day here and there, but we're in the thick of filming with millions of dollars on the line and an unknown actor headlining. I'm not getting a pass before I prove myself. It's also true that the schedule fluctuates depending on how filming is going so things could change. But not likely. One day is not enough time to fly to wherever Char is on the tour, spend decent time with her, and get back. I mean, I could. But I'd be a zombie after the fact. That wouldn't do any good for my reputation, either. A no-name actor zips across the country to bag a girl?

Yeah, I'd be on a blacklist sooner than you can say...shit I guess I don't have an example. Probably never heard of the guy who got sunk because he needed pussy.

I take a deep breath, holding it before I sag with its release. I'm a tense ball of nerves. Maybe I should get some sleep. Although I'm exhausted, I'm also wired. Maybe I should get out of here, go hang out somewhere. Eat sushi at my old restaurant. Sit at a table for once instead of clearing the dirty dishes.

The thought of being out with people zaps the desire to calm my anxious energy completely out. Fuck it.

I start to pull out my phone, knowing that Char's long since asleep in her time zone but I'm desperate. I hit the call button at the exact moment a knock sounds at the door.

Phone to my ear, I take a few steps over to open up for what's probably the hotel staff dropping off the latest script revisions, a near nightly occurrence. I hear the call ringing as I grab the doorknob, but then its echo sounds in the hallway.

What? That's weird.

I'm pulling the door open when the same thing happens again. Ringing in my ear echoes out in the hall, only louder with the door open.

And I'm struck silent when I see it's Char standing at my door, in my hotel. In Hollywood. Her eyes are shining, and my jaw is dropped.

"What...what are you doing here?" I look her up and down, something different about her catching me off guard. Her hair is in its natural waves. She's wearing loose fitting overalls, dark green, with a tiny white top underneath. She's the girl I remember meeting, not the laced up corporate mogul she's been lately.

Stupidly my phone is still at my ear, ringing, and echoing in her hand. I pull the phone down and end the call as my arms wrap around my girl.

"Good surprise or bad surprise?" she says as I crush her to me.

"Good. So damn good you have no idea." I hold her close. Char's arms are around my waist.

"I think I have some idea."

"Baby, I was just going out of my mind missing you. I couldn't sit still. I was trying to figure out when I could fly to you for even a day but couldn't seem to make it work." I pull back to look at her, kiss her lips and her face, her neck. "And here you are. Just damn."

"I realized I didn't need to be at Brianna's beck and call. Her producer is with her for the next few shows. I decided I needed to be here."

I pull her fully into the room, closing the door and dropping my lips to hers. Branding her with a kiss that says everything I can't.

I need you.

I missed you.

Thank God you're here.

Her kiss says the same. I've never had this. Never knew it was possible. As I walk us to the bedroom, my lips never leaving hers, I know I can't ever let her go.

I need her to be mine for the long haul. For the rest of it. Forever.

I wasn't sure what to call this one, but while writing it I had this tiktok sound in my head from a year or so ago. I looked it up on YouTube and when I saw there was a video, immediately added it to the playlist.

These aren't the dirtiest thoughts but Jacob and Char are a little more spicy than my usual MC's so the title works. Also, if I do ever publish these on Amazon (which is a possibility) I'll probably bump up the spice level so be warned!

https://youtu.be/gEK7Vt5X7CU

PS Charmer has a few days left on Wattpad before I move it over to the Vella platform on Amazon. This is your last chance to read it free!