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“Jesus, they’re intense,” Z mutters.
I grunt in response.
The porn stars move on to the anal portion of the program and so help me, but Z wanders closer. He gets so absorbed in the action, the cameraman has to remind him to get the fuck out of the shot.
Seriously.
He wanders back a lot less embarrassed than he should be. “You miss this?” he asks.
“Miss what? Sex in a hotel room with a group of strangers evaluating my performance and filming every thrust?”
“You know what I mean.” He gestures toward the bed. “There’s no way your wife’s letting you do that to her.”
I snort, because I haven’t found anything Hope won’t explore with me yet. Despite our earlier touchy-feely conversation, there’s no way I’ll explain something that personal to Z.
“Don’t worry about what I do with my wife, jackass.” I tilt my head. “You have a really warped idea of what marriage is and isn’t.”
“Aw.” He places his hands over his heart and stares up at the ceiling. “You two are living the dream.”
“You’re an asshole,” I growl.
A few orgasms later, Z pipes up again, but this time he seems more serious. “You’re really not… I don’t know, any less interested now that she’s…” He curves his hand in the air in a way that I guess I’m supposed to interpret as pregnant. “Bigger?” he finishes.
I must be getting soft in my old age, because somehow I refrain from ripping off his damn head. But there’s no hint of laughter in his tone or expression. I don’t sense he’s asking the question to be disrespectful.
No, more like he genuinely wants to understand.
Since things seem “chill,” Z and I step outside the bedroom.
“You really want to hear the truth?” I cock my head to indicate I’m willing to answer his obnoxious question.
He shrugs, but for the first time today, he’s focused on me instead of the noises coming out of the bedroom.
How do I explain? “Hope and I made this… life together. I don’t see her getting bigger. My daughter is. All those changes that drive her nuts turn me on because that’s my kid she’s growing.”
“So you’re still attracted to her as much as before?”
Attracted? That doesn’t even come close. “My attraction, infatuation, obsession, whatever you want to call it, burns hotter than ever.”
He nods slowly and doesn’t crack any jokes about my confession. Not that I’d give a fuck if he did. “Damn, brother.”
A shriek comes from the bedroom, and we both turn to check it out.
“We’re only supposed to break it up if she screams ‘puppies,’ right?” Z asks.
“That’s what she said.”
He moves closer to the door and watches the action for a few minutes before roaming to my side of the room.
“Christ, my balls fuckin’ hurt watching that. Who knew the dude had to stay hard for so fucking long?”
“Yes, my whole life I’ve been dying to know.”
He snorts.
Finally, they wrap it up, and Garrett emerges from Stella’s lair.
“That was a lot of pussy-licking, bro,” Z says. I’m not sure if he’s congratulating the guy or trying to butter him up for oral tips.
Garrett chuckles. “A girl gives up the ass, you gotta make the rest of it all about her, right?” he jokes, not at all insulted or bothered by Z’s annoyingness. After a quick glance over his shoulder, he drops the grin and leans toward us. “I’m glad you two are here. You seem to take this job seriously. Please keep a close eye on her later. I hate these randoms she films. I’m worried she’s gonna pick up a psycho one day.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” I assure him.
“Usually I’ll stick around and make sure she’s okay, but I have to catch a flight. We kind of scheduled this last minute.”
“We’ll be here ’til the end,” Z says.
“Cool. Thanks.” He gives each of us a quick handshake before heading out.
Stella saunters out of the bedroom with a satisfied smile on her face.
“Successful morning?” Z asks.
I shoot him a shut-the-fuck-up look, which he ignores.
“It went well.” She prowls a little closer. “You know, we have this hotel room for two more days. I find biker culture fascinating.”
She stares at me as if I’m supposed to be impressed that my life is some sort of entertainment for her.
When I don’t respond, she continues, “I’ve wanted to do a series of biker films for a while now,” she purrs, letting the invitation hang in the air. Her gaze slides to the patch on my cut, and she trails her fingers down my arm. “President would be a good place to start.”
Next to me, Z coughs and shifts. I barely restrain myself from punching him.
Instead, I carefully remove her hand from my arm. “Not. Interested.”
She raises an eyebrow as if it’s the first time anyone’s ever turned her down. Hell, maybe it is. I couldn’t care less. I can’t stand women who aren’t my wife touching me. And nothing I saw earlier gave me the urge to get into the porn business.
My patience is stretched way too thin for this bullshit. “I’m sure Sway would be happy to indulge your fascination.”
She flinches but doesn’t give up. Nope, she rakes her gaze over both of us like a female octopus, on the hunt to mate and consume one of us as her extra nourishment for the day. “You’re both much better suited to the camera.” She reaches up to touch my cheek, and I block her hand with my arm, stopping to flash my wedding ring in her face.
“Married.”
“Oh.” She takes a step back, dialing down the predatory expression on her face. “That wouldn’t stop most guys.”
Z finally decides to have some mercy on me. “He’s still in the obsession stage of marriage. She’s pregnant out to here, and he can’t keep his hands off her.”
A simple, “pick me! pick me!” would’ve been sufficient.
Z drops his grin when he notices my death glare. Fucker is well aware of how much I hate having any information about Hope or my personal life shared with strangers.
Stella drops her come-hither attitude. “That’s actually really sweet.”
Relieved we seem to have moved past the awkwardness, and she won’t attempt to touch me again, I smile back. “She’s a big fan of yours.”
Too late, I realize that probably sounded like some weird three-way invite.
“You could have brought her today,” Stella says. “I wouldn’t have minded.”
“That’s okay.” Hope’s more open-minded that some might think, but there’s still no way I’d expose her to this scene.
Z’s giving me the strangest look, so I feel like I should clarify. “I mean, she’s a fan of the column you write.”
Her eyes widen, and she actually clasps her hands over her chest. “That’s wonderful.” She gestures at the scene behind her. “I love making films, but writing’s my real passion. I’m so happy someone actually reads my column.”
After that, the day only gets weirder. Stella returns to the bedroom to rearrange things for the next scene. Apparently that includes a change of sheets and a few other decorative touches.
I use the time to text Hope.
Miss you.
Miss you too! She writes back immediately, adding a couple hearts
A few short words from my wife help wash away my lingering irritation.
Unfortunately, the next buzz of my phone is from Sway.
How’s it going?
Fine.
She talk to you about her biker series?
That motherfucking piece of shit.
I should’ve known there was a reason he was so insistent I had to be on set today.
I call Z over and show him Sway’s message. “Did you know about that?”
“Fuck no.”
“What a fucking asshole.”
“Prez, I think you just confuse him.” His
dark blue eyes gleam with mischief. “He can’t comprehend there’s one biker in the world who doesn’t want to cheat on his wife.”
I glare at him. “I hate you.”
He claps my shoulder and leans on me. “No you don’t.”
I growl in response and he laughs even harder.
“Come on. We don’t know many brothers who’d say no to her. Married or not you gotta admit she’s hot.”
“I’ll admit that you seem to worry about where your brothers park their dicks a lot more than I do.”
He doubles over with laughter and turns away for a second. “Guess I had that coming,” he finally sputters.
“Ya think?”
“She could use more padding.” He actually stops and pats his stomach and thighs, in case the meaning of padding was lost on me. “But you really don’t think she’s attractive?”
I stare at the ceiling and count to ten. Don’t strangle Z today.
When I’m confident I won’t choke him, I glance at Stella who appears to be preparing for some solo footage to be shot of her rolling around on the bed giggling and flashing her pussy. Creamy skin, pin-straight dark hair—that’s apparently her natural color—and pouty red lips. She has a pin-up, Goth girl sort of vibe to her. Her breasts are almost non-existent, so they’re probably real, something that’s unusual in the porn world, so kudos to her for not caving to industry pressure. But as Z so adorably mentioned, she’s almost painfully thin. Much thinner than has ever appealed to me. But overall, she’s pretty. Graceful in the way she moves, which suggests she might have dance training.
