Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

celebrities before. Most of them, he'd be happy never to talk to again. No, he decided, it wasn't Len's celebrity that made him so ill at ease—it was Len himself.
    He seems so… real.
    Part of Ted knew that's what actors did —make people believe things about them that were simply fantasy. But there was something different about Len, and Ted knew his instincts were good. Why didn't he trust himself?
    He felt Len's lips on his skin at the juncture of where his shoulder met his neck. He shivered. All during dinner, he'd managed to ignore the low thrum of desire that Len had aroused in him. But after three glasses of wine and a delicious meal, his self-control was just about gone and the thought of sex with Len buzzed in his brain. He shifted in his seat to accommodate his hardening cock.
    "Come upstairs?" Len asked as he licked a line up to Ted's ear.
    "Sure."
    As if he'd say no! The bathroom had been hot, maybe the hottest sex Ted had ever had. Okay, it was without doubt the hottest sex he'd ever had. But the thought of taking it slowly, of exploring Len's amazing body, of Len's lips and tongue exploring his body… that was so much hotter.
    He took the hand Len offered him and they climbed the stairs of the cottage. Ted couldn't help but notice the small watercolor paintings on either side of the staircase: paintings of the ocean and the shore.
    "These are lovely," Ted said as he stopped for a moment to admire the art. "Where did you find them?"
    "My mom painted them. That's Port Jefferson Harbor, not far from my house. And this one," he gestured to a harbor view with a hundred tiny sailboats, "that was a regatta my dad sailed in."
    "I've never been on a boat." Ted was almost ashamed to admit it since he'd grown up about twenty minutes from the ocean.
    "I'd love to take you sailing. I've got a small sailboat I keep a few miles down the road. I haven't used it much, though."
    "Too busy?"
    "Nah. I just haven't found anyone I've wanted to sail her with."
    Len pinned Ted against the wall and nipped at his ear, then slipped his tongue between his lips. Ted moaned.
    "Come on," Len grinned as he put his arm around Ted's waist and guided him up to the bedroom.
    "Nice," Ted said appreciatively as Len flicked on the light.
    The bedroom was, like most of the cottage, simply decorated in the muted greens and blues of the ocean. The king size bed took up most of the space, but French doors led out onto a small balcony overlooking the beach. The drapes and the doors were open at the moment, allowing a cool breeze to blow in, bringing with it the scent of the salt spray.
    Len sat down on the hand-stitched modern quilt that covered the bed, and patted the spot next to him. Ted exhaled slowly before joining Len there.
    "I love this place," Ted said. "It's so… peaceful."
    "Thanks. I decorated it myself." Len must have seen Ted's surprise, because he added, "I used a decorator for my LA apartment. I hate that place, but I didn't want the press coming here for interviews and stuff. Only my agent and Margie know about this cottage." Len put an arm around Ted's shoulder and leaned in to him. "I'm really glad you came tonight."
    "I am, too."
    Len's expression was hard to read as his hands reached for the top button of Ted's shirt. Ted couldn't help but close his eyes while Len's fingers brushed his skin every time he undid a button to reveal an inch or so more of it. When he had finished, Len pushed Ted gently back onto the bed, kissing his abdomen and rolling Ted's nipples around in his fingers.
    "Good?" he asked. Ted could only nod. "I know not every guy likes that."
    Len pulled his t-shirt off, inviting Ted to reach out and touch his satiny skin. He lay down on his side and this time it was Ted who pushed Len onto his back, straddling him.
    Ted ghosted his fingers over the actor's skin. Without the release cream or the putty, it felt different. Smooth to the touch. The contrast of wonderful softness over solid muscle was a thing of beauty. It made Ted long for his clay once more; he could imagine sculpting this man's body, recreating the memory of this touch.
    He unbuttoned Len's jeans. As tempting as it was just to admire the pure physical beauty of his torso, Ted needed to see all of Len's body. He had only caught glimpses of Len's cock in the bathroom and he wanted to touch it, taste it, revel in it.
    It only took a few seconds for him to pull Len's jeans and boxers down. Len kicked them off without looking away and Ted