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If Sam only knew. If word of this got out…
I glanced at my reflection again.
I had Aspen’s wet thong in my hand and my balls were aching with the need to be emptied. Gripping the base of my dick, I stroked it from root to tip, rubbing my thumb over the head. I hissed, began stroking faster thinking of Aspen and how she’d looked when I sank into her the other night. How her eyes had widened as she took all of me. As she clenched as she came. As she–
“Fuck!” I whisper-groaned, using Aspen’s panties to catch my cum as it spurted from me.
14
LUKE
* * *
I spent the night on Aspen’s too small couch. At dawn, I’d given up on getting any decent sleep, so I left and went back to the hotel, took a shower, and changed clothes.
I was in line at the coffee shop when Sam texted.
Your screen test is Tuesday at 10 but they said not to show if you’re in rehab.
His accompanying screen shots–even more of them–from the gossip sites about were equal parts thrilling and fucking infuriating. I’d worked my ass off in my career doing all the right things. Showing up on time, knowing my lines, not fucking any of my co-workers–or their spouses. I met my contract obligations with a fucking smile. Like my parents had raised me, I put in a hard day’s work for my pay. Sure, I made millions, but I didn’t make trouble, either. My mother texted me yesterday, seeing the latest about me. She’d laughed off the Polynesian dancer marriage and the pet python story because she knew I hated snakes. But rehab? She didn’t like people talking shit about me. My momma was fierce when it came to her kids.
Kinda like someone else I knew.
I texted Sam back.
If I show up to prove I’m not in rehab, will they believe me? With what Lacey’s saying…
I’ll find you a new girlfriend. Be seen with her. Prove you’re not in rehab and Lacey’s wrong.
Find a new girlfriend. As if that was easy and there was no way in hell I was having Sam find one for me. I hadn’t dated anyone in years. Fine, dates, yes, but nothing more than a night out. Or in. But a relationship? No. I didn’t trust a woman to want me for me because they couldn’t separate fact from fiction. To not have some kind of agenda of their own which included me and my fame, especially one Sam found. Who only wanted me for–
Wait. There was one person who had no clue I was a star. Who wanted me–and my dick–for sex and sex alone. She had no agenda other than me getting her off. The one who’d had zero expectations or intentions of ever seeing me again. Not even on TV.
Aspen.
15
ASPEN
* * *
I rolled over. Groaned. God, what time was it? I opened my eyes. Winced. It was too bright.
“Morning, tiger. The night we met, when you said you shouldn’t have more than one glass of wine, you weren’t kidding.”
A face loomed over the bed. I blinked.
Luke.
I groaned again, covering my face with my hand because I could have sworn he was smiling.
“Here. Take these.”
When I didn’t move, he tried again. “Be a good girl and take the pills.”
I frowned, then pushed myself up to sitting, then realized I was naked when the blankets slipped to my waist. I tugged them up and my eyes opened. Why was I naked?
Luke winked. Grinned.
