So maybe your life is in shambles and you run away to London to get your head straight. Sure, you don't really have a plan but the Universe does, and before you know it, some kid from Kingston has completely turned your world upside and your body i...
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"And then I absolutely ate shit and broke my nose," Tom laughed, shaking his head, "It was not cool."
The feast had moved to the rug on the floor. You still had no furniture but with the help of some pillows, you were able to enjoy the bounty, Bedouin style.
"What were you doing in Colombia?" you asked, reaching for a crisp. You'd eaten half the bag already.
Tom slipped off his blue cap and ran his fingers through his hair. That's better, you thought, let me see that hair. A memory flashed of you tugging that hair. You looked down, trying to hide a smile. That was only last night. Now he's in your flat, on your floor, in a very tight tee shirt. Very tight indeed.
"I was um... working," he said picking at some stray thread on the rug, not looking at you.
"What kind of work takes you to Colombia?" you asked.
"The acting kind," he said, folding his arms in front of him and throwing a slightly concerned look your way.
"No shit? What, were you with some tour company of 'Cats' or something?"
He laughed, "Not exactly."
"I'd bet you look good in a fur-lined leotard," you winked.
"I bet you would too!" He hissed and threw his hands up like claws.
You leaned back onto the floor laughing, "I bet you were purrrrfect during your solo."
"There was a CLAWS in my contract that said no nudity," he chuckled.
You laughed harder and rolled over to face him, "That was awful."
"Yeah, that was pretty bad," he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck still smiling.
You looked at him and thought, Jesus, he brings me food, makes me laugh, and turns me on. Lord, do not fall in love with this boy, Y/N, your brain warned yourself. Under no circumstances. You barely know the guy. You don't even remember his last name. Something Dutch. Just, you know, keep him at arms length. You didn't come here to get wrapped up in some guy. You patted a spot next to you on the rug and beckoned him over.
"You wanna ACT your way over here and pick up where we left off last night?" you threw him your most lustful smile.
Really, Y/N? Did we not just talk about this? Your brain scolded you.
Tom broke out into a huge grin and crawled over to you, leaning on his elbow.
"Now, director, can you please tell me what my motivation is in this scene?" he asked placing his hand on his chin, thoughtfully.
"Your motivation is to get into my pants," you replied matter-of-factly.
He closed his eyes tight and nodded, "Hmm, yes I think I can work with that."
You grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a ferocious kiss. He returned it with the same intensity, rolling on top of you and running his hand from breast to thigh. All the while your brain protested but it looked like your body was going to win this match tonight.
