Viggo and Monica staggered from her truck to his apartment, laughing hysterically. They’d had a lot of fun at the Disney Store, and hadn’t wanted the day to end, so they went for lunch after that; then walking on the beach. They passed a tattoo parlour and Viggo jokingly suggested they stop so she could get one.

‘If you do, I’ll show you mine,’ he teased.

‘I already have one. And after Indian Runner, I think I've already seen all yours!’

‘You do not have one!’

‘Do so. I’ll show you when we get home.’ She stopped suddenly, realising what she said. ‘Err, when we get back to your house, I mean.’ Her face was red with embarrassment.

They headed back to her truck then, Viggo teasing her about her purchase from the Disney Store—a giant stuffed Beast, from Beauty and the Beast. When she carried it into the house, he teased her by making it talk, hence their laughter.

Once the door was shut, Viggo took the doll from her arms, his face serious. Her back was to the door, and he was all but pressed up against her.

‘We’re home,’ he murmured, huskily. ‘I believe, Angel, you were going to show me your tattoo.’

Her breath hitched at the desire in his eyes coupled with the husky timbre of his voice. She stared, mesmerised, into his eyes. Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, which turned out to be his undoing. With a groan, he braced his hands on the door, on either side of her, and dropped his head, pressing his lips to hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth.

Her heart beat an erratic rythm in her chest; her arms went around him of their own volition. After a moment, she dropped her arms, tugging the hem of her shirt up. As he watched, eyes dark and deep with lust, she shrugged out of her shirt. He noticed the tattoo on her upper arm immediately. But his focus was elsewhere—she wasn’t wearing a bra. He looked at her, an unspoken question in his eyes. She understood immediately and nodded her head in a silent ‘yes.’

He slid his hands down her arms—her newly bare arms—before sliding them to her waist. Recapturing her lips, his slowly slid his hands up her waist, stopping just to the sides of her chest. Pulling his head back slightly, he ran his thumbs across her nipples. She dropped her head back and moaned, pleasure washing through her body.

He kissed down her neck, tracing lightly with his tongue. She clutched desperately to him, her legs growing weak. They almost gave out completely when his lips found her nipple, rigid from her desire.

He took her in his arms, carrying her to his bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, covering her body with his. She could feel his erection, long and firm, against her hip, and involuntarily shifted her hips. The moment their groins met, they both gasped. He pulled his head up and looked at her.

‘Baby, we’re getting close to the point of no return. If we’re gonna stop, you need to tell me soon.’

Her response was to reach between them and unfasten his shorts.

‘You know what you’re doing? What you’re letting happen? I don’t want any regrets.’

‘I know. God help me Viggo, but I don’t just want you, I need you.’

He sucked in his breath at her words. He knew the amount of trust she was placing in him. Slowly, he ground his hips against hers, causing a gasp and moan. Pleased with her response, he repeated his actions. This time her hips pushed up against his. They both groaned.

He sat up, unfastened her jeans, and slid them down. He almost lost it when he saw that she wore no panties. Jumping up, he shucked his shorts and shirt, and rummaged through a drawer in his end table for condoms. Finding what he was looking for, he returned to Monica.

He stretched out atop her again, savouring the feel of bare skin on bare skin. He kissed her, hot and deep, before pulling his head up.

‘Last chance to turn back, though God help me, I think I’ll die if you do.’

She pulled his head down to hers, kissing him hotly. ‘Viggo, baby, I need you. Please, Viggo, make love to me.’

He covered himself with the condom, and leaned back down, gently taking her in his arms. He lowered his head and pressed a feather light kiss to her brow. He cupped her cheek with his right hand, gently and tenderly before kissing her again, in the same manner—gentle and tender.

He aligned himself with her, looking deep into her eyes. He braced himself on his forearms, cupping her face with his hands, continuing to look into her eyes, as he slowly pressed against her entrance.

He slid into her slowly, both of them hardly breathing. When he was buried to the hilt, he kissed her and slowly slid out of her. She was so hot and tight that he almost lost it right away. Quickly, they found a rythm; slow and gentle they moved, in a dance as old as time itself.

Too quickly, he felt himself reaching his peak. He could tell by her breathing that she was close. He dropped his head and kissed her, lightly rolling a nipple between his fingers. She moved against him with more urgency now, coming as close as he to the edge. Within moments, they were both at the peak, crying out their pleasure together.

He collapsed onto his forearms, resting his forehead against hers, breathing raggedly. He didn’t want to move, but he rolled over and chucked the condom, then rolling back to his side and gathering her up against his chest.

Opening her eyes, she stared up into his, a hint of a smile on her lips. She tipped her head up for a kiss before resting her head on his shoulder, her face in the hollow by his throat. She sighed and closed her eyes. Within moments, she was asleep.

Viggo remained awake, his mind going a hundred miles an hour. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he had just been given. It was crazy—he had known her less than a week and already he couldn’t imagine living without her. This was so unlike him!

Earlier, when she’d slipped and said “when we get home,” he had found himself wishing it was true, that she did live here. He had an idea, but had to wait now until she woke up.

When Monica woke up she stretched languidly before realizing that Viggo wasn’t in the bed. Getting up, she took his bathrobe from a hook on the door and slipped it on. She padded downstairs where she heard him humming and followed the sound to his kitchen. She paused in the doorway, watching him work. He moved with fluid grace, the kind that you either had or didn’t. He clearly had it. He was moving to the beat of the song in his head, the same one he was humming.

When she stepped lightly into the kitchen he turned toward her, smiling. It was amazing what a smile could do to his face she noted, watching 15 years just drop away like they had never happened.

‘Hey, angel.’ He set down the bowl he’d been holding and stepped over to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She relaxed against him, returning his embrace, and sighed.

‘Hey. What time is it?’ she asked, stifling a yawn.

‘Around five pm.’ He lifted her chin and kissed her softly, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. ‘I'm glad you’re up; I wanted to talk to you. I was thinking about what you said earlier, “When we get home,”’ he clarified. Seeing her start to say something, he smiled and shook his head. ‘Wait a second hon. Let me finish.’

He put his arm around her waist and guided her to the sofa in the sitting room. He sat sideways, facing her, left leg tucked under him. ‘I was doing some thinking. This film is going to take at least four months to wrap up. You live so far away that I was wondering if you wanted to maybe stay here until then? We could commute together, save on fuel. And, well, I rather like having you here.’ With that he took her hand in his, stroking his thumb over the back over her hand.

‘Earlier, when you said that, I found myself wishing it was true. I don’t want to pressure you though; you’ve been through enough shit already. So . . . I guess what I'm saying is that you are welcome to stay here,’ he started, carefully avoiding the words move in, ‘while we film. Monica, I really like having you here. There’s just something about you, sweetheart.’

Monica stared at him, not daring believe what he said. She studied his face carefully. It was open and relaxed, and she saw nothing but sincerity. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In two days, this man had gained so much of her trust it was frightening. ‘What if . . . what if things don’t work with us?’

‘You're free to go back to your old apartment if you want, or I have the spare bedroom.’

‘Are you sure? I mean, we just met, and I . . .’ she paused. ‘I'm not used to being treated like this. Other than Shaoey, I don’t think anyone has. I just . . . I’m scared.’

‘Of me?’

‘Not of you, like I'm not afraid you’d hit me . . . I’m afraid of how you make me feel, of what you make me feel, that you're going to get tired of me and my stupid insecurities and . . .’ her voice trailed off as he stood. ‘Great, now I've done it!’ she thought. She was shocked when he knelt in front of her.

‘Angel, don’t be afraid, please. First of all, your insecurities aren't stupid. You learned them over time because of assholes that mistreated you. As for how and what I make you feel, I suspect it’s pretty close to what I feel at this point. I won’t lie—I'm very physically attracted to you and you know that. But there's more to it than that. I’d like to see what can happen. I have never, never, moved so quickly with anyone in my life. I know you just met me, but you can also ask Orlando, or Dominic, or Billy. Hell, you can ask my son or my mother or my ex-wife! I don’t understand it, but I've learned not to question things like this.’

Monica stared, open-mouthed, at Viggo. She sensed he was telling the truth, and what he was saying matched what she had observed of his behaviour since she’d become a fan, reading his interviews and reading about him. She stood, rested her hands lightly on his hips, leaned her forehead on his chest, and whispered, ‘Just please don’t hurt me.’

Viggo’s face broke into a grin, and he hugged her tightly. ‘I can't promise I’ll never hurt you, baby, but I can promise that I’ll never hurt you on purpose.’ He pressed his lips to the top of her head, holding her close and savouring the feel of her in his arms. ‘I want to take you out tonight, hon. Do you want to go out?’

‘Well, I’d like to, but I don’t have any clothes, really. I kind of need to get stuff from my place.’

‘Okay, how bout we go to your place, so you can get what you need, and we can do a late dinner after that? Sound okay to you?’

‘Sounds great.’

An hour and a half later, they pulled into a car park behind a quiet restaurant, one of Viggo’s favourites. They were seated on a terrace overlooking the ocean. Gentle strains of music from a string quartet floated out from the main dining room; it was a beautiful night, just a light breeze, enough to tease Monica’s hair into her eyes. She started to brush it away but Viggo beat her to it. He tucked the errant strand behind her ear, letting his touch linger on her cheek.

‘You're so beautiful,’ he murmured. When she blushed and ducked her head, he caught her chin in his hands and lifted it. ‘Get used to hearing that, baby.’ He took her hand and stood. ‘Dance with me?’ Mesmerised by his eyes, she stood, following him. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close and wrapping his arms around her.

She sighed and rested one hand on his neck, the other pressed flat against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart. She heard him murmur in Spanish, but didn’t understand what he said.

‘You’re as beautiful as a flower, and even more delicate. I want to hold you here forever,’ he said when she asked.

She smiled softly. ‘You are so romantic. From anyone else that would sound smarmy, but from you,’ she paused, sighing, ‘it’s amazing.’

‘No, angel, you're amazing. Don’t ever forget that. Other men may not have taken time to see that, but that’s their problem—and their loss. And it’s my gain.’ Cupping the back of her head with one hand, the other around her waist, caressing her back, he kissed her. It was a barely-there kiss, lips hardly meeting. When she sought to deepen it, he pulled back just enough that his lips were barely on hers. She groaned in frustration, making him laugh before he finally deepened the kiss.

Monica could swear she saw sparks, if not fireworks. She ran the tip of her tongue across his lips tentatively, moaning when they parted and his tongue found hers. The server brought their dinners then, delicately clearing his throat as he approached the table. The couple broke apart and laughed quietly.

‘Busted,’ Monica whispered. Viggo laughed.

‘Probably a good thing. I’m not sure I’d have remembered where I was after another minute.’ He kissed her forehead softly, and led her back to their table. They chatted amiably over dinner, really getting to know each other.

After dinner, they walked, hand in hand, to the beach, where they walked in the surf. A large wave caught them unexpectedly, sweeping Monica off her feet. She landed on her bottom, soaking wet and laughing hysterically. Viggo helped her to her feet, smiling. He was pleased with her reaction; too many women he’d been with would have been furious.

Unexpectedly he reached his hand out, plucking something from the wild, wet, tangle of her hair. ‘Seaweed.’

‘Hmmm, I’ll stick with the store-bought kind, for my sushi,’ she said grinning. ‘I bet I look a mess right now huh?’

‘You look beautiful.’ He grinned, then. ‘Although, you are a bit more unkempt than you were ten minutes ago.’ Monica was about to retort, but a sudden breeze, though gentle, made her shiver. ‘Here,’ Viggo said. He shrugged his jacket off and wrapped it around her. She snuggled into it, leaning against Viggo’s chest. ‘Let’s get home, baby. I don’t want you getting sick.’

After he started the truck, he turned the passenger heat on. He knew how chilly it could be, to be soaking wet, even in this temperate climate. Monica sat in the middle of her truck’s bench seat, and snuggled into Viggo, who smiled and covered her hand with his.

Monica leant against Viggo as he led her up the stairs to his bedroom. She was half asleep and still chilled. He turned back the sheets on his side of the bed, and laid her down, pausing to remove her wet clothes. He turned the heat in the waterbed on, and got a heavyweight bedspread to cover her with. As it was already past ten pm and they both had a 5 am set call, he also stripped, and crawled into bed, pulling her chilly body close to his. She sleepily turned over and huddled into his embrace. Before she dropped off to sleep she murmured, ‘Good night, Vig.’

Viggo woke at 3.30 am, 15 minutes before his alarm. He smiled at the sleeping figure in his arms, and thought about how lucky he was to have met her. He shut the alarm off before it could go off, and stroked Monica’s face and back gently. He smiled when she grumbled in her sleep and burrowed deeper under the covers. He had a feeling this would be a daily occurrence. Grinning, he dived under the covers after her, and kissed her lips softly.

‘Monica,’ he crooned, drawing out her name. ‘It’s morning.’

‘Thank you Captain fucking Obvious,’ she muttered, drawing a laugh.

‘Coffee grouch.’ Viggo grinned, not taking her griping seriously. His son was a morning grouch, as was Dom—and when they were in New Zealand, Dom routinely stayed out late and woke up less than cheerful. ‘Get up and we can hit a coffee shop on the way in. I’m guessing a double espresso sweet and black.’

‘Or a s’mores cappuccino. Damn you're good.’

‘Not really. You mentioned horrid American coffee. The next logical guess for an American is Italian coffee. Being that espresso is stronger, I went that way.’

‘Ungh,’ she groaned. ‘Too much thinking. Too early.’

Viggo grinned again. ‘C’mon sleepy-head. Shower time. We can shower together if you want.’

‘That works. You’re learning; I just need the right incentive,’ she replied, with a half-smile, still more asleep than awake. Viggo smiled, kissing her again. He left the bedroom to start the shower, and when he came back, to his surprise, Monica was sitting up, though her head was buried in her hands and she looked as though she might be asleep. She looked up when he came back in though, and struggled to her feet and to the shower.

Half an hour later, after minimal prep time, the couple left the apartment and headed for Monica’s truck. Viggo headed for the passenger door, opening it and helping her in. She unlocked his door and fastened her seat belt before resting her head back and closing her eyes. Viggo let her sleep, knowing she must be drained, and headed for a café he knew of that served real espresso. He never had been a Starbucks fan, preferring instead to support smaller, ‘mom-n-pop’ type establishments. He left her in the truck and ran in to get their coffees. Within minutes he was back and they were back on the road.

He pulled into the car park just behind Shaohannah and . . . Orlando?! Clearly he had missed something!

‘Moni? Honey, we’re here.’ He gently shook her. When she turned her head and opened her eyes, he handed her the coffee. ‘Wanna sit here for a few?’ he asked, already knowing the answer. She lifted the cup and drank from it before answering.

‘Wow! That’s some real espresso! I haven't had any that good since I spent a week with an exes family—they made real espresso for every meal. And yeah, I’d like to sit here.’ She unfastened her seatbelt and scooted toward him and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Thank you. For the coffee. It’s just what I needed.’

He smiled. ‘No problem baby. You’re worth it,’ he added, grinning. She lifted her face to look at him, her eyes still half-lidded with sleep. Unable to resist, he leant forward and brushed his lips across hers.

‘Mmmmm,’ she moaned before pulling back. ‘I guess we’d better go over and get signed in,’ she said with a sigh. Viggo nodded and echoed her sigh. He opened the door and slid out, helping Monica down. They turned to find Shaoey and Orlando watching them with a gleam of interest in their eyes. Orlando had his arm wrapped around Shaoey’s waist, Viggo noted.

‘Hey Shao, Orlando,’ Monica murmured, after draining the rest of her cup of coffee. Viggo took her cup and handed her the keys so that she could get her supplies from her lockbox.

The four of them walked to the set together, the two girls chatting quietly on the way. Once through security and signed in, the men headed to makeup and the girls to the staging area. The director met them there with a sheaf of papers—that day’s scenes. They reviewed them and Shaoey filled Monica in on yesterday whilst Monica restocked her bags with the supplies her employer had sent to replace what she’d used that first day.

When she was done, she sat next to Shaoey as only the main set was being used today. The crew and cast were further down on the set blocking the scene, so the girls were free to chat. Her eyes automatically searched the set for Viggo; when they found him she sighed. Shaoey missed none of this; her sharp eyes watched her friend’s reaction.

‘So, how’d it go with you two then? I was surprised that you two were still together; I thought you went home yesterday.’

‘No, we . . . we spent the day together yesterday,’ she said a slight flush to her cheeks.

‘And the night too, apparently.’

‘Yeah. He, uh . . . we talked about . . . well. . . I’m going to be staying with him from now on. While the film is still going I mean.’

‘You WHAT?’ Shaoey gasped.

‘Shhh! Chill out. It’s not like that! Well not totally. . . I mean, I like him, and he likes me. He asked me to date him, so. . . so I guess he’s my boyfriend? And well, I wanna see where it goes. He’s not a total stranger! He’s a public figure; granted there’s the chance that some of what he shows is BS, but you KNOW how long I’ve followed him, and how much I learnt about him. Shao, he’s special, I just know it. I don’t have any of the reservations I had with my ex.’

Shaoey’s eyes softened. ‘You’re in love with him.’ Monica looked at her. ‘You are! You’re in love with him!’

‘Not totally. I care about him though. I can't say those words yet, but I really care about him.’ Suddenly her memory kicked in. ‘Hey! You got here with Orlando this morning! And he had his arm around you! What’s up with that?’ Shaoey blushed. ‘Oh my god!’ Monica lowered her voice. ‘You slept with him.’

Shaoey nodded. ‘He’s stayed two nights at my house. The first night his car wouldn’t start. He actually wasn’t just giving me a line on that either; he had to call a garage yesterday on lunch. I offered to let him stay the night. When we were talking I he mentioned how Viggo likes you and I said you were staying with him, but not like that and Orlando asked if his staying over was like that or not. When I asked if he wanted it to be, he kissed me.’

‘Oh. My. God.’ Monica whispered. She was about to say something else but the director called for quiet on the set.

The filming broke for lunch around noon, and Viggo found Monica at the staging area. ‘Come with me?’ he asked her. Smiling she nodded. He loved how free she’d become. He could still see the shyness and fear, especially when others were around, but she was a lot freer with him than she’d been. When they were alone amongst the trees along the beach, he turned. ‘I missed you this morning.’ He kissed her hungrily, and she responded in kind. Her arms went around his pulling him closer to her. They broke apart gasping. ‘God I missed you!’ he said before nuzzling her neck drawing a moan.

Knowing they weren’t free to do as they wanted, Monica took his hand and drew him with her to the beach. They sat in the beach and cuddled for an hour, exchanging kisses and talking softly, until Viggo’s watch chimed the hour. He groaned. ‘I've got to get back baby; we break early tonight so it’s only an hour lunch. I should be cut loose at four or five though. She stood and rested against him for a moment, and then they walked back up to the set together. They shared one last kiss before parting ways, unaware that they were being observed.

Billy Boyd turned from the trees and headed for the trailer he and Dom were sharing. He hadn't deliberately spied on the couple; he had been walking past when he heard their voices. When he looked up they were kissing. A blind man could tell how much those two liked each other, and he was torn; he knew Dom, his best friend since they met in New Zealand, liked Monica, but he also knew that Viggo was more her type. He sighed.

‘Hey Billy.’ He turned.

‘Orlando,’ he greeted.

‘What’s wrong, man? I called twice before you heard me.’ Billy sighed; he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell anyone what he’d seen before he talked to Dom, but it was apparent that Viggo and Monica were open about their relationship. Slowly, he filled Orlando in on what he’d seen, then about how Dom felt about Monica.

‘Ouch,’ Orlando commented when the Scot finished. ‘Maybe you’d better fill Dom in on this tonight. He comes back to work tomorrow, and they're both on the schedule.’

‘I know. I am not looking forward to this conversation.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m going home. My afternoon scenes were cancelled since Dom’s still out. I guess I better go tell him.’

‘Call if you need me.’

Billy acknowledged his friend’s offer with a wave, without turning around. He headed for his car, hurrying along the way.

When he got home, he walked through the house looking for Dom. He found him curled up on the settee, eyes closed.

‘You awake, Dommeh?’ he asked, his Scottish brogue thick as ever. Dom raised his head.

‘What’s wrong, Bill?’ Bill’s accent—though always present— wasn’t usually so thick unless he was bothered by something.

‘Look mate, I wanted you to hear it from me, and before you get back on set. I’m not sure exactly what you think about Monica, but,’ he paused, ‘she, ah, she’s apparently with Viggo.’

Dom closed his eyes. He had mixed emotions. He was glad it was nothing serious and also glad for his mate Viggo, but he was also stung, because he had been attracted to Monica. He couldn’t be upset with either of them, however. He sighed.

Bill laughed, humourlessly. ‘Yeah, there's been a lot of that since I saw them, mate.’

‘So, what did you see? I mean, how do you know they’re together?’

Billy shook his head. ‘I only saw them kissing, at the end of lunch, but they were together quite a bit after you went out sick the first day, and apparently have been together since.’

‘How do you figure?’

‘They arrived together this morning. Viggo’s car was there yesterday though he’d been cancelled for the day. Apparently they left together Monday night. So either she dropped him off then and picked him up today or. . .’

‘Yeah, I get it now,’ Dom interrupted. ‘Thanks for letting me know. I appreciate it. I guess I can’t be too upset; she didn’t really seem interested in me. And Viggo is a good guy; I know he won’t fuck her over.’ He sighed. ‘Oh well, maybe one of the extras will take a liking to me.’

‘Dom, can I ask something? You don’t have to answer, but whatever happened to Evangeline?’

‘Just wasn’t working. She’s great, we still talk and all, but it just wasn’t there.’

Billy nodded. He understood that and was grateful that Ali tolerated his schedule as well as she did. He’d been with her since before even auditioning for Lord of the Rings, and was grateful to have someone so loving and patient in his life.

Back on set, Monica was gathering up her equipment and heading to fight training area. Orlando and Viggo were running though a scene when she approached but the fight and stunt coordinator wasn’t present. They stopped when Monica arrived preferring to chat with her.

‘Monica!’ Orlando cried, running toward her full tilt. He grabbed her in a hug.

‘Orlando!’ Monica cried back, tickling him instead of returning the hug.

‘Oi! That’s not fair! I was being all nice and loving and you tickled me,’ he pouted.

‘Awwww,’ she teased.

‘Hey, sweetheart,’ Viggo whispered kissing her cheek. Orlando watched curiously. It appeared Billy had been spot on.

‘So, are you two together, then?’ he asked bluntly.

Viggo looked at Monica who shrugged and nodded.

‘Yeah, Orlando, we’re dating,’ Viggo replied quietly. Orlando nodded.

‘Just wondered,’ Orlando added. ‘You two seem good together.’ The stunt coordinator showed up then, ending further conversation.

Jon, the coordinator, walked them through the scene slowly. Monica watched closely, looking for the greatest potentials for injury. Unlike Dan, the choreographer who had been running the rehearsal at which Dom had collapsed, Jon understood the need for caution. Although it was more than 20° cooler than Monday, when Dom had collapsed, Jon insisted on rehydration and vital sign checks every 30 minutes.

The two men rehearsed the sequence for the remainder of the afternoon, breaking a few minutes before five. Monica sighed. A full day without her having to treat an injury was the kind of day she preferred. Viggo joined her and shouldered two of her bags, and they walked to the staging area together.

‘Let me see if the director or producer needs me for anything, honey. If not we’re outta here.’

He was back quickly, having been cut loose for the day. When they got to her truck, he handed her the keys. ‘I need to drive my car back tonight. Remember how to get to my place?’ Monica nodded taking her keys. ‘I’ll see you in a few minutes then.’ He kissed her before heading off towards his car.

Monica sighed and climbed into her truck. She started the truck and buckled in, thanking god that the drive was a short one. Sighing once again, she headed out of the car park and toward Rancho Palos Verdes.

Shortly after Monica and Viggo left, Orlando and Shaoey met in the car park.

‘Hey, Shao!’ Orlando called.

‘Orlando, hi,’ Shao said with a smile.

‘I was wondering if you’d want to come over tonight; I live in Lomita. We can get takeaway and watch movies or,’ he paused smiling with a wicked gleam in his eye, ‘we could shag again.’ He pressed in against her and gave her a mind-blowing kiss, letting her know exactly what his thoughts were.

‘Oh. My. That kiss should be a registered lethal weapon! Um,’ she paused trying to collect her wits. ‘I can follow you out to your place if you want.’

‘I want.’ His voice was rough with desire. ‘I very much want. I’ll keep a watch for you in my mirror and you can follow me.’ He gave her another searing kiss and she could feel his already engorged cock pressing against her belly when he pressed against her. She started her car, mind racing. She was so fucking horny already; another one of those kisses might do her in. She sighted him ahead of her, waiting at the turn to the road and shifted into gear.

Twenty minutes after their last kiss she was once again pressed up against a door, kissing Orlando hotly. He tore his lips from hers, eyes blazing passion. ‘Tour later; the only room I think I need to show you is the bedroom.’ He lifted her up and carried her toward the bedroom. She could feel his manhood, swollen and hot, pressing against her, when she wrapped her legs around his waist. With one foot he kicked the door shut behind him and carried her to the bed.

She unwrapped her legs and, once she’d regained her footing, tugged his shirt off. She kissed along his collarbone, running her tongue along the ridge. With her fingertips, she traced down his chest, feeling his hard abdominal muscles contract when they passed over them. Looking up into his brown eyes, she tugged his shorts down over his lean hips, then over his cock. Without breaking eye contact, she took him in her hand, savouring the feel of him; his breath was coming in short gasps and he grabbed her hand.

‘Not gonna last if you do that baby,’ he gasped. Following her lead, he yanked her t-shirt over her head, dipped his head, and ran his tongue in a wet line down her neck. He unclasped her bra and tossed it to the floor. Before laying her down, he slid her shorts down; once she was lying on his bed, he pulled them off.

Stretching himself out on top of her, his hardness pressing insistently against her thigh, he kissed her with a growing urgency. Grabbing a condom from the headboard, he sheathed himself and looked at her.

‘Please . . .’ she moaned. ‘Please fuck me!’ That apparently was what he’d been waiting for. He slid into her with a feral moan.

‘Oh! Fuck!’ he cried out. He thrust into her deeply, groaning with each thrust. She clutched his back, fingernails digging into the skin, feeling as though she was going to fly apart.

‘Oh god! Shaoey!’ With one final thrust Orlando went over the edge, crying out his orgasm. Seconds later, Shaoey followed him over the brink, wrapping her arms around his muscular back and pulling him to her.

Ten miles away, Monica and Viggo were debating the merits of takeaway or delivery versus going out for dinner. Both were tired, and both wanted to be alone with the other so the debate was settled rather quickly. Or rather, that debate was.

‘Now, what are we going to eat?’ Viggo asked. Monica groaned dropping her head onto her arms. Viggo laughed. ‘Does that mean you don’t care?’ A muffled ‘uh-huh’ was his reply. ‘Okay, Spanish then. I have a friend from Argentina that runs a restaurant here. The only place I have found where I can get real South American food.’

‘Cool, a new food experience. As long as I don’t have to use chopsticks, I think I can handle it.’

Viggo laughed. ‘No chopsticks huh?’

Monica held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘I tried. I really did. And as long as I can take five hours to eat, I do okay!’

Viggo called in the order and forty five minutes later, he left to pick it up. Monica begged off and stretched out on the sofa. When he got back, she was asleep. He smiled; he liked having someone to come back to, even if that someone was asleep. He brought plates and utensils into the sitting room, and when everything was ready, he set about waking Monica up. Five minutes, and several kisses, later, Monica was cuddled up to his side.

Viggo had ordered carbonada criolla, a beef recipe with peppers, corn, pumpkin, and potatoes, calamares en salsa verde, a South American version of calamari—fried squid, and empanadas, a sweet apple pastry.

‘How hot is the salsa verde? And I mean by a spice wimp’s standards,’ Monica asked laughing.

‘Mmmm, it’s pretty spicy. I don’t know if I’d call it hot though.’

‘Okay, better safe than sorry. I’ll be right back.’ She returned moments later with a glass of milk and some bread. Viggo looked at her questioningly. ‘Both milk and bread absorb oils that cause spicy food to burn. If I try it and it’s too hot, I’m okay.’

‘Smart girl. Of course, I knew that—after all you’re with me,’ he said with a teasing grin. She smiled back sweetly and stuck her tongue out. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘That’s not very nice.’ He added a mock pout to make her feel bad.

‘Awwww, poor baby.’

Viggo retaliated by tickling her. She squealed and tried to scoot back. Her legs were crossed though, so she fell back onto the sofa.

‘Mmmm, you always seem to wind up on your back when I tickle you; not that I’m complaining,’ he said with a wicked grin. Monica laughed and sat up.

They stopped teasing, and started eating dinner. The salsa verde was spicy as predicted, but not terribly so. The calamares was not too different from its Italian cousin, which Monica liked.

‘Pumpkin with beef is . . . odd to me. I’m used to sweetened pumpkin desserts. It’s good though.’

Viggo smiled. ‘So your first contact with Argentinean food is a good one then.’ Monica smiled around her empanada and nodded. ‘Good, I'm glad. You know, I'm impressed. Most women I know aren't willing to try new things.’

‘My mum always told me I had to try something before I could say I didn’t like it. Now, I won’t lie; there are some things I do flat out refuse to try, raw fish, for one. Anything that still has eyes when it gets put on my plate. . .’

Viggo laughed. ‘Yeah, I can understand that.’ He stood and started clearing away the dishes; Monica stood to help. ‘You don’t have to help, baby.’

‘Well, if I'm going to be staying here then I'm not exactly a guest, so yes- I do.’ She took the plates from his hands, so he picked up the food containers. The couple made short work of the cleanup. Just as Monica finished washing the dishes, a clap of thunder shook the house.

‘Thunder!’ She dropped the sponge and ran for the stairs. Surprised, Viggo followed. When he got to the third floor, he stopped, listening.

‘Moni?’

‘Out here!’ she called. As he started toward where he heard her, he heard her squeal. When he found her he started laughing. She wasn’t frightened, as he’d thought; she was sitting on the veranda, a grin on her face. When a bright bolt of lightening flashed to the earth, she squealed happily.

Viggo smiled and sat down on the chaise lounge behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. ‘You are so amazing, baby. I'm glad I found you.’ Monica smiled and snuggled back against him, enjoying his embrace.

The storm, which had been going for over an hour, was almost over when the phone rang. Viggo glanced at his watch. ‘Henry,’ he said. ‘He usually calls around this time.’ He answered the phone and brought it back out onto the veranda. He settled in behind Monica again, one arm wrapped around her, the other holding the phone.

‘What, now? Hang on a sec, son.’ He covered the mouthpiece and spoke to Monica: ‘Henry wants to come over. Would you mind?’

‘Well, no. He might be though. I mean, I knew about him, but he doesn’t know about me, does he?’ Viggo appeared to consider that. After a moment he uncovered the mouthpiece.

‘Well, before you come over son, there is something I need to tell you . . . yes, there's someone here . . . yes it’s a woman. No, not like that. Well, kinda like that, but more serious than that. No not that serious!’ he chuckled. ‘Okay son. We’ll see you in a bit. Drive safe.’

He hung up and looked at Monica. ‘Sometimes I have a hard time getting used to having an adult child. Wouldn’t trade it for the world, though.’ He sighed. ‘God I feel old tonight.’

‘Trust me, you're not old. If you behave, I’ll prove it later, if we have the uh, opportunity.’

His eyes darkened. ‘We will. I’ll make sure of it.’ He kissed her hard.

The doorbell rang.

‘Henry’s here. He rings before he comes in so that he doesn’t startle me.’ He stood and took Monica’s hand helping her up. He led her downstairs where they found Henry; he took in his father and Monica with quiet assessing eyes. Then he smiled.

‘Hi, I’m Henry,’ he said still smiling.

‘Hi, Henry; Monica,’ she said, taking the hand he offered.

Viggo smiled too. ‘Let’s go sit on the veranda; Monica has a thing for electrical storms.’

‘Cool; that one was pretty wild huh? Lightening started a fire a couple miles from Mom’s but the OCFA and LAFD had it out pretty quick. Glad it hasn’t been as dry as last year.

‘So what’s up with you two?’ Looking at Monica, he apologised, ‘Sorry, I'm usually pretty blunt with Dad.’

‘It’s fine Henry. Knowing your dad, I wouldn’t expect anything less,’ she replied smiling.

‘Well, son, Monica and I are dating, so I guess she’s my girlfriend. We haven’t really talked about it.’

‘How’d you meet?’

‘I’m a set medic on your dad’s new movie.’

‘Cool. But,’ he looked at his dad, ‘you’ve only been filming since Monday.’ Viggo nodded. ‘Wow! You usually don’t call a girl you’ve known this long! You must really like her.’

‘Yep; I think you will too.’

Father and son chatted and Monica relaxed in Viggo’s arms.

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