Characters: Henry Cavill the Actor, Unnamed Female OFC, OFC Hubs, OFC Agent
Summary: Written in the first person, an unnamed original female character goes to an upscale Hollywood party and is introduced to one of the ‘sexual exceptions’ to her marriage.
Rating: Explicit; NSFW 18+
Warnings: Sexual References, Explicit Language, Sexual Tension
Word Count: 2,759
***
This was it. My big chance at introducing myself to apparently some of the top people in Hollywood. We had flown our way out to Los Angeles for the night for this sole party we got invited to. The kids were old enough where they could stay at home a couple nights and let me and Hubs have some fun. Hubs; that’s what we’ll call my husband for the sake of saving face.
We’ve been married almost fifteen years. Jesus, has it been that long already?
I was nervous, but I had everything right. My hair, my makeup, my dress – everything was perfect. And Hubs, he looked amazing. He was just as happy to be there, along for the ride and to get some eye candy of his own.
We arrive and my self-proclaimed LA ‘agent’ greets us in the lobby, walking us to the elevator in a rush.
“You’re late,” she sneers. I know her better that this, and she’s not really mad.
We apologize and tell her we’ve basically come straight from the fucking airport, dropped our clothes off in our cheap ass Holiday Inn hotel, and we ran like sons of bitches to get to her. She rolls her eyes and smiles.
We’re already in the elevator and she seems a little stressed. I do my best to tell her she means the world to me. “Sweetie, thanks for doing this. I owe you big time. But, where are we going? Who’s place is this? Why are we here and what’s the rush?”
I quickly glance at the buttons inside the elevator. The one that’s entitled ‘White’ is lit up.
“A conference room, booked only for the big boys. Thirty-second floor is called The White Room. This is an elite schmoozing party, so yes you owe me. And we need to see as many people as possible, so we need to get there now. DON’T– leave. I don’t wanna have to come find your ass.”
I giggle and she stares at me. I’m in trouble. “Yeah, sorry. Okay, got it. Thanks babe.”
“Do your best to mingle. There’s a lot of people here that can get you great contacts. And keep smiling. Good luck,” and she’s pulling us into what appears to be a penthouse type floor, with the room starting right off the elevator.
I scour the room, it’s huge and everything is white; the curtains that cover the walls, the paint on the window frames, the carpet, the table cloth, everything.
The room itself is the whole floor, an entire open space. One bed is in the middle of the room, with stairs leading up to it, as if it’s on a pedestal. What the fuck is that? Weird.
There are hundreds of people are all over the place. I see some familiar faces, nothing my nerves I can’t handle. I’m introduced to some of them by my contact who tells them about my work. People seem interested when you say erotica, but no one knows what to do with you. I’m grinding my teeth at this, becoming frustrated easily. No one is taking the bait, selling this shit is hard.
About thirty minutes in, Hubs is pulling my arm in the middle of an intro.
I look at him in frustration and he nods to one corner.
It’s him… Henry fucking Cavill.
You know those spoken truths between long time partners? The ones where you tell your significant other that given the chance, and even though you’re married, you’d have your way with that completely-out-of-reach-holy-fucking-balls-there’s-no-chance-in-hell-they’d-do-it-anyway person if you ever met them? That person is the exception to the rule of marriage? I did that – Hubs and I did that.
I have two exceptions. And one of them is Henry.
When I saw him, time stood still. I don’t know what the fuck happened to me but I lost my shit.
He was in a white button up with a black suit jacket over it. Jeans. He’s in fucking jeans, my fucking weakness. Jesus Christ this man does everything right. And of course not including the attire, he looks beautiful like always.
He looked shorter than I imagined, huge arms. He had grown his black hair out, I could see curls. And he was clean shaven.
I’m already shaking, I’ve been looking at this man for mere seconds and I’m fucking shaking. And I know he’s looking back, but the thought was almost impossible. How and why would he be looking at me. And that’s when I got my first one – the first smile. Have you ever seen Henry Cavill smile? It’s like a national treasure, one of the most beautiful smiles in the world with the row of perfect white teeth, and they’re shining at me.
It knocked me back into reality and I smiled back briefly before turning away in embarrassment. Oh my God he caught me looking at him.
“He’s still looking at you,” the evil torturous male voice beside me says.
I didn’t look at my husband. Instead I bit my lips together and was still smiling at the thought. He’s fucking lying, he’s just trying to embarrass me further. There’s no way Henry Cavill was– oh my God, he was still looking. And he saw me look back at him. I can feel my smile get bigger, and I can’t hold back a small chuckle.
Hubs is watching me as I finish flirting with Cavill. Not wanting to look back, thoughts race through my mind of how beautiful he looks. DAMN.
My attention is taken away quickly by my ‘agent’ who has now introduced us to the hundredth person we’ve met tonight, but my thoughts almost instantly travel back to Henry and how good he looks… and what my fingers would feel like in his hair, and my mouth on his abs, and sucking on his…
Clear your thoughts. Breathe.
I look back gracefully to see he’s involved in conversation. Carefully taking another once over, I thank my lucky fucking stars he’s here. Now I’m praying my ‘agent’ can organically introduce us to him. And hey, if not, at least I have some eye candy. DAMN.
My first drink came shortly after that. One glass of champagne has made me feel the effects. Not having time to eat after your flight, and being nervous as hell doesn’t help the alcohol effect.
Over the next hour or so, I find myself eying him and looking him over while he’s looking away. Then going back to indulging in a difficult sell of my sex creations with the people she’s introduced me to.
Some laughter and another drink even further into the party, and we finally arrive at my destination – Henry Cavill.
“Guys, I’m sure you’ve heard of Henry Cavill, one of the most respected actors in Hollywood.”
“Thank you, but that’s not entirely accurate. Actor will do.”
My agent points us out and says our names. Hubs is waiting for me to say hello first, as usual. Probably trying to hold back his laughter at my expense. I go ahead and reach for his hand.
“Nice to meet you,” and a physical touch has been made.
It’s warm, large, and he’s gentle. His eye contact is good. This means he’s confident. He’s got a smirk to his face but not overbearing. I’m nervous as fuck, but still relaxed thanks to the champagne.
“Likewise,” he says.
My agent proceeds to tell him why I’m there, and his response follows.
“Erotica; that’s interesting. Hoping to get a movie script into production I assume?”
My smile isn’t from the topic of our conversation, it’s from his honest intrigue, and that tiny smirk he has while he speaks to me. Referencing sex with Henry Cavill has made me a little embarrassed and I feel warmth come over my face. “Yes, that’s the plan.”
I can feel my eyes have glossed and I’ve become a little more sober all of a sudden. I watch him as he takes a drink of his beer. And then I realize it’s creepy and turn.
My agent revises some plans with his present company of entourage, while Hubs, Henry and I stand in a row, in silence, listening.
I look at Hubs and he winks – the bastard knows all my secrets to fuck Cavill stupid if I had ever gotten the chance. And here he is, right next to me.
Henry is called to the other side of the room. “Excuse me,” and then he looks straight into my eyes. “My apologies.”
And that little stunt just lit up my night. I’m smiling back at him – again.
And off he goes. Well fuck.
Now that he’s gone, I breathe.
I run my fingers through my hair and look at Hubs while he lifts his eyebrow. “Not exactly the encounter you were looking for, was it?”
“Shut up,” and I playfully hit him while still in the clouds from what’s just happened. My agent realizes exactly what he means. “Henry Cavill is on your list? Good choice,” and she smiles.
“Okay, can we get over this now? He’s still in the fucking room.”
They laugh, “I’ll make sure to give you space next time you’re close,” she adds.
“Right. Like that would ever happen. Okay, who you got next? I’m here for a reason, and it isn’t to fuck Henry Cavill–”
“Or is it?” Hubs adds.
I joke back, “Keep it up and you’re not getting any tonight,” secretly hoping Henry heard me and wants to jump on the chance.
***
The night passes, and I’ve had another couple drinks bringing me back to my buzz. More comfortable with Henry in the room, and my agent in deep conversation with other agents, I venture away from Hubs and start to look at the wicked textured art on the walls, all of which are white. I should be talking, I should be using this time wisely, but I need a break.
I start to fantasize about a certain man. What he kisses like, or how he would handle me, or what he would do to me if I was tied up to a bed.
Out of the corner of my eye I see a figure. White shirt under a black blazer… in jeans. My face lights up. I am a dork.
“Hey, you have me to yourself now,” he says. “We can talk.”
You feel that? My smile just got bigger. ‘I have him‘. Fuck, me.
Before I have a chance to respond, the man comes against my side, and it’s as though he has no personal boundary. His arm is against me, which is thick, and he’s warm.
I realize then just how rich his long curly hair is. His clean shaven face and skin are beautiful. What does this man do for a skin routine??
“How are you?”
“Good thanks, and you?”
Really, that’s all you can think of? Good?
“Yes, I am actually. I hear you’re headed home tomorrow. Long flight?”
But wha– how did he know?
I proceed to tell him I’m not looking forward to it.
“Enjoying yourself here?” He adds, looking down on me as I try not to stare. I’m swaying, visibly nervous.
“Yeah, just needed a break.”
And then it happened. That long period of silence. And it lingered. And with every fucking millisecond, the tension rose and rose and rose. And I couldn’t stop smiling. But he didn’t say anything either. He just looked to the crowd in front of us. And I tried to search my brain for something intelligent to say, but all I could think of was sex with this beautiful man next to me. Oh my God did he ever look good. DAMN.
Looking down at me with his drink in his hand, he smiled at my smile, and immediately looked away. He quickly gathered his composure and asked, “Would you like to see the stars and step outside with me?”
“Sure.”
I was quick to answer, but for the love of Christ, what did I just say? Now I’m going to be completely alone with him. My ridiculous silence will be even more so ridiculous.
We turn behind us and take a few steps to the door that’s already open. A wide balcony awaits us and people linger all the way around the building.
Both of us come against the railing and face outwards. His hand grips the railing and his body is turned towards mine. I take a deep breath of the fresh air (for what it’s worth) in the Los Angeles night.
He’s come in closer and I feel his arm against mine again. This guy doesn’t know personal space when he wants something! I wike it!
I look to him and he looks back smiling. I see that beautiful sharp cuspid tooth. I have to look away again, and we both snicker together. I shame myself for not having more balls.
He points to the cityscape in front of us. “You see that over there?”
I lean in to see what he’s looking at by naturally getting closer, but I don’t know what he’s pointing at and I’m paying no attention to what he’s saying because I’m an inch from his face. His smell is incredible. He definitely has some sort of cologne on. I can’t get over how large this man is, and how close we are, and how turned on I am right now. And he’s still talking and he’s now pointing in the other direction, and I haven’t stopped smiling.
And then he stopped.
Fuck! Was I suppose to be answering a question!? In a panic, my smile fades.
He turns to me, and I turn to him.
“Is this too close,” he asks, meaning his face to mine, and how close our bodies are. I can’t help myself and I look down at his lips, and I see that tiny beauty mark clear as day. So fucking sexy.
“No,” I whisper back.
I’m barely breathing.
“Are you sure? Aren’t you married?”
“Don’t worry about that.”
He snickers and says okay. He looks down and back up, looking me over again before speaking.
“Why haven’t you been chatty with me? You’ve been with everyone else…”
Oh shit. What am I suppose to say now. Speak what’s on your mind I guess, cause I have no excuses. I try to find how to say it quickly, not to make a mess of myself. And I just blurt it out.
“Because I’m nervous around you.”
“Why? There’s nothing to be nervous about. Is it because of who I am?”
Oh God he is adorable. Trying to make me comfortable. A gentleman. Fuck. You’re done, just say it.
“You know why.”
My tone was more than convincing, and with my added expression, it’s obvious.
For a few seconds, we keep eye contact as he realizes what I’ve just said. I watch him with all my might for any kind of indication he feels the same way.
“Hm,” he says in return.
Holy bejezus do I ever want this man to kiss me right now.
I hear a voice call my name behind me.
“Sorry, I’m really sorry but I need you.” It’s my contact and she needs me. FUCK! I close my eyes in disappointment and realize the entirety of the situation. Right, I need to focus. I didn’t come here to have sex with Henry Cavill, I came here to work.
I turn back disappointed, “Sorry, I’m so sorry–”
He laughs, “It’s quite alright, go. I understand.”
Fucking fuck! He’s so beautiful and I have to leave him NOW?!
“Thank you, excuse me.”
I give him puppy dog eyes, as he knows how close I just came to fully admitting I wanted him and now am regrettably leaving. Who knows where the conversation would have gone after that comment.
You had the balls and now you have to walk away.
He looks me over too, and even though I appreciate it, I turn away.
I give my contact the evil eye and she whispers her apologies to me and drags me over to a man in a business suit, who’s name I’ve already forgotten. She hands me another glass of champagne and I lift my head, taking a deep breath and trying to focus, not taking the time to look back at Henry out on the balcony.
“Nice to meet you.” I shake his hand and drink half the glass, because all of a sudden, I’m extremely thirsty.
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