Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

M orning light spilled through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the loft's open kitchen. Angela tucked a strand of her long, dark hair behind her ear as she perched on a stool at the kitchen island. Her limbs were still languid from their night together. Holden moved around the kitchen with a surprising grace for a man of his muscular stature, the scent of sizzling bacon mingling with the fresh aroma of coffee.

"Hope you like your eggs scrambled," he said over his shoulder, his voice low and slightly rough from sleep.

The sight of him, bare-chested with a pair of well-worn jeans hanging low on his hips, was enough to reignite the embers of desire within her. "Only if they're made by a man whose hands are as skilled at cooking as they are at... other things."

Holden leaned over the counter. He offered his lips instead of taking hers. Angela met him more than halfway. The kiss was sweet, like they'd been doing it for years, not hours. She knew better than to get her heart involved in this tryst, but it was beating loudly as his lips left her mouth to plant another sweet kiss on her nose.

He had never done that in any of his films. Could that have been something special just for her?

"You'll find I'm a man of many talents, Dr. Prescott."

She wanted to tell him to call him Angela. But she liked the way he said her last name. It was kinda like a nickname he'd given her. Another sweet moment between the two of them.

As Holden plated the eggs and set them before her, the intimacy of the moment wrapped around Angela like a warm blanket. They sat across from each other, a feast of morning-after comfort food between them, but it wasn't just physical sustenance that was shared.

"I've been thinking a lot lately about where my life is heading." Holden's voice was vulnerable as he talked, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "The adult film industry... it's given me a lot, but there's this gnawing feeling that I'm meant for something more... real ."

It was a side of Holden few got to see—the man behind the mythic persona. She reached out, her fingertips brushing against his wrist. "What kind of real are you looking for?"

He leaned back, running a hand through his tousled hair—an unguarded gesture that spoke volumes. "Connections that go beyond the physical, you know? The kind where you can actually feel something genuine. It's like I'm craving experiences that don't end when the director yells cut . I want to explore depths that aren't just about flesh and fantasy. I want to touch souls, not just bodies."

Here was a man who could have rested on his laurels, content with superficial encounters, yet he yearned for something deeper, something meaningful. It was a yearning she understood all too well, and in that moment, their connection became something far more profound than either had anticipated.

"I want to create a space where intimacy is genuine, where there's more heat in a glance than in a gratuitous close-up."

"Like what we did last night?"

He glanced up at her, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Exactly like what we did last night. But that was just for us. Our… genuine intimacy."

"It was that; intimate and genuine," Angela echoed, the words rolling off her tongue like a secret promise. Her body hummed with an awareness that went beyond the physical draw she felt for him. There was a depth to Holden she hadn't expected that drew her in as surely as his sexual prowess had the night before.

Angela traced the rim of her coffee cup, gathering the courage to let Holden see a part of her she'd kept concealed. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything," Holden replied without missing a beat, turning to face her with eyes that held no judgment, only interest.

"My parents..." She swallowed, feeling the weight of their disapproval like a shackle around her ankles. "They don't exactly brag about what I do for a living. “ Oh, our daughter? She makes... adult playthings ." Angela's attempt at humor fell flat, her smile wobbling as she gazed down into the black abyss of her coffee.

"Angela, look at me." Holden tilted her chin up gently, urging her to meet his gaze. "You are brilliant—do you know that? Your work is revolutionary. You're exploring uncharted territories of pleasure, breaking taboos. That's something to be proud of."

Angela's heart thrummed a wild rhythm against her ribs as he spoke. His reassurances wrapped around her, soothing the sting of years of doubt.

"Your toys... they bring joy, release, and comfort to people. That's important. Hell, it's essential," he continued, his voice deep and fervent. "And if your parents can't see that, then they're the ones missing out on how extraordinary their daughter truly is."

The glint in his eye sparked a desire in Angela that went beyond physical; it was an intimacy of the mind, a connection that danced along her nerves like fingertips on bare skin. She felt seen—truly seen—and not just for the curves of her body or the ideas in her head, but for the complex, imperfect, passionate woman she was.

"Thank you, Holden," she said, her voice steady now, emboldened by his belief in her. "That means more to me than you know."

"Anytime," he replied, leaning in close enough that she could feel the heat of his body. "Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold. You're going to need your strength for what I plan to do to you before lunch."

His directive was laced with a hint of command that sent a thrill straight to her core. As Angela took a bite of the fluffy pancake, she couldn't help but wonder how many other commands she'd gladly follow if they came from Holden Tighe's lips.

The sudden banging against the door jarred Angela from her reverie, the remains of pancake halfway to her mouth. She turned just in time to see a blonde tornado whirl into the room, her sharp blue gaze locking on to Angela with an intensity that could curdle milk.

"Didn't know you started bringing your work home with you, Tighe."

"What are you doing here, Kendra?"

"Here for my last box," Kendra announced, tossing her hair over her shoulder in a practiced move that spoke volumes of her self-assuredness.

"Bedroom," Holden replied curtly, jerking his head toward the hallway.

As Kendra sauntered off, hips swaying with a confidence that felt almost confrontational, Angela's curiosity couldn't be contained. "Friend of yours?"

"Former co-star," Holden corrected. "And I emphasize former because I'm done with being a porn star. She kept some stuff here. She didn't live here."

"It's not my business."

"It is your business. She's a past sexual partner. Since you're my current and only partner, it is your business. Just know that fucking her was only ever business. And now I'm out."

Angela's eyebrows rose, intrigued by the finality in his voice. She watched as he set the plate down, his muscular form moving with a grace that seemed almost incongruous with his declaration. "You're serious about this?"

"Dead serious." There was a fire in his eyes now, something passionate and raw that drew her in. "I want to start directing—films that focus on women's pleasure, on empowerment."

"I meant about me being your current only partner. But directing sounds good too."

There was a flash in his gaze—a yearning for validation that mirrored her own insecurities. "You think I can do it?"

"Absolutely," Angela affirmed. "You've got the vision and the drive. You're going to change the game."

Holden rounded the corner. He came to stand between her legs as she sat on the stool. He bent to take her lips. It was another of those sweet kisses that had no business on a porn set.

"Good luck with your little project, Tighe," Kendra snorted. She took another look at Angela but just as quickly dismissed her. With a toss of her hair over her shoulder and a laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes, she was gone.

Holden exhaled, a long, slow release of breath that took the weight of the world with it. "I won't miss that industry one bit."

Angela believed him.