Find Me Alastar(115)

I put some crackers and cheese into my mouth as I listen. “What were you watching?” I ask.

“Total Recall.”

“Love that movie,” I mumble with my mouth full.

“Classic,” she mutters into her glass. “Anyway, he sits down at my feet on the sofa and pulls the blanket over his thighs and picks up my feet to put them onto his lap under the blanket.”

I frown.

Alastar comes into the kitchen and opens the cupboards under the sink. He rattles around in a box.

Brielle hesitates and points at Alastar’s back with her glass. She obviously doesn’t want him to hear this conversation. It has taken a lot of begging from me for her to give Alastar a second chance, and thankfully, she is putting my feelings before hers and making peace with him. I need them to get along.

What is he doing there? “What’s wrong?” I ask him. He never loses anything. It’s a huge perk of being organized.

“Have you seen my leather gloves?” He frowns as he puts his hands on his hips in thought.

I frown as I try to think. “Last time I saw them you put them in your briefcase for work yesterday.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath.

“What do you need gloves for?” Brielle asks.

“The lights and equipment get hot,” Alastar replies.

“Where are you going again?” Brielle asks.

“Shooting a cover,” he replies, distracted.

“Oh, can we come?” she asks excitedly.

Alastar puts his arm around me casually. “Next time you can. This is a closed set tonight.”

“Why?” I frown as I crunch on a cracker.

“The models are going to be naked.”

My mouth drops open in horror. “Are… are you kidding me?” I stammer.

He pulls my head back and kisses me. “Yes. Were you jealous?”

I narrow my eyes at him. Brielle laughs and holds her glass up to him in approval.

Alastar kisses me quickly again and leaves the room in search for his missing gloves.

Brielle smiles broadly. “You two do seem very cozy.”

I smile as I grab her hand. “I have so much to tell you at dinner. Cozy doesn’t even come close.”

“Mr. Masters,” I reply to guide the conversation back to her.

Her eyes widen. “Anyway, so he is sitting on the lounge with my feet on his lap and he starts to run his hand up and down my foot.”

“Oh shit,” I whisper. “Aren’t you ticklish?” I couldn’t handle that shit, “Chinese torture chamber shit,” I murmur around my crackers.

She shakes her head at my stupid question.

“What did you do?” I frown.

She shrugs and drains her glass. “I sat and pretended to watch stupid f*cking Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

“Oh.” My eyes widen as I refill our glasses. I pass hers to her. “So… he had your foot and was rubbing it with his hand.”

“We will leave in ten, girls,” Alastar calls from the lounge.”

“Okay,” I reply. He is dropping us at the restaurant on his way.

She leans in so Alastar can’t hear her and I instinctively do the same. “He moved my foot so I could feel his erection in his pants.”

“What?” I whisper, wide-eyed. Holy crap. “I don’t believe this!”

“I know, right?” She sculls her wine.

“What did you do?”

“I laid there and let him rub himself up with my foot.”

I choke on my wine. “W-w-what?” I stammer.

“He rubbed my foot back and forth over his erection, Em.”

My mouth drops open in shock.

She shakes her head and drains her glass. I burst out laughing and put my hand over my mouth. “This guy is a f*cking deviant.” I murmur.

“Tell me about it,” she replies dryly.

“What happened?” I whisper. “God, I love these stories.” I hold up my glass and she clinks it with hers.

She shrugs. “I think he came.”

My eyes widen. “What?” I gasp.

“Who came?” Alastar replies casually as he walks into the room.

Oh shit, he heard us. My guilty eyes land on Brielle.

“Bianca’s boyfriend arrived today,” she blurts.

Alastar checks back under the sink. “Who is Bianca?” he asks without looking up.

My eyes widen and I shake my head. God, I wish I could think fast on my feet like her.

“Our friend from Australia,” Brielle replies casually. “Her boyfriend arrived today.” She widens her eyes and shrugs her shoulders and I drop my head to hide my smile at her easy bullshitting ways.

I turn to Alastar who is openly stressed out. “Can you still not find your gloves?” I ask.

“No and it’s f*cking pissing me off.” He pulls out the third drawer in a rush. “I saw another old pair here the other day, but I can’t recall where.” He murmurs deep in thought.

I think for a moment. I did see a pair somewhere. “Oh, they are in the laundry underneath the sink. I saw them there yesterday when I was doing the laundry.”

He winks sexily and disappears into the laundry.

“So, what happened then?” I whisper.