Regret Not a Moment
““That lousy bastard!” she spat.
“Which one, sweetheart, your director or your wardrobe designer?” asked Whitney Ross sleepily, reaching for Loretta’s soft white arm and pulling her down to where he lay among her pink satin pillows. But Loretta shook him off. Whitney sighed lazily and rolled away from her. Although their affair was only a month old, he was already used to her rantings. She was always complaining about her co-stars, or her script, or a myriad of other daily annoyances that he... had quickly learned to tune out in order to better concentrate on the sexual satisfaction he invariably derived from her perfect body.
He squinted at the clock on the mantel. It was four o’clock in the morning. That was the problem with having an affair with an actress. One didn’t have supper until at least midnight. That meant no bed until one, which left only a few hours until dawn. Whitney Ross was very strict about reappearing at home by dawn.MoreLess
“Which one, sweetheart, your director or your wardrobe designer?” asked Whitney Ross sleepily, reaching for Loretta’s soft white arm and pulling her down to where he lay among her pink satin pillows. But Loretta shook him off. Whitney sighed lazily and rolled away from her. Although their affair was only a month old, he was already used to her rantings. She was always complaining about her co-stars, or her script, or a myriad of other daily annoyances that he... had quickly learned to tune out in order to better concentrate on the sexual satisfaction he invariably derived from her perfect body.
He squinted at the clock on the mantel. It was four o’clock in the morning. That was the problem with having an affair with an actress. One didn’t have supper until at least midnight. That meant no bed until one, which left only a few hours until dawn. Whitney Ross was very strict about reappearing at home by dawn.MoreLess
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