Crowd Pleaser

by Marie James

  I hate to even ask, but… “Unless what?”

  “You’re a porn star, right?”

  “Obviously.” I resist the urge to pop my hip out and cross my arms over my chest again, both defense mechanisms when someone talks about my job. I have no idea how they’re going to use the information, but nine times out of ten it’s not to congratulate me on making positive life choices.

  “Who sets up your—” He taps his finger against his lip as if he’s contemplating a way to get his point across without pissing me off. “Appointments.”

  “You want to know who schedules the guys I’m going to fuck?”

  He nods, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. I want to slap it right off his face because that little twitch means he knows something or has plans that I’m not privileged to, and it fucking pisses me off.

  “Vic,” I state simply. “Why does it matter?”

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  “Nope.” I turn to walk away.

  “You won’t even hear me out?”

  I turn back and glare at him.

  “I’ll sign the damn permission form, but on one condition.”

  Now, my arms cross over my chest, but rather than getting hopeful, I wait for him to continue.

  “I want you to fuck no one but me.”

  The huff that escapes my lips is the most unladylike sound I’ve ever heard. Without another word, I turn back to the door, but he stops me, hand on my arm before I can turn the lock.

  “Let me go,” I seethe.

  “First, tell me why it’s such a hardship?” If looks could kill, he’d be dead on the floor. “You came harder than anyone ever has on my cock, so don’t tell me it’s because I’m a bad lay.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing out the memories and the soreness his thrusts left behind.

  “Why?” I ask, finally opening my eyes to look into his.

  Big mistake.

  The cocky grin is back, and with his proximity, my body is begging to give in, but all of that would be pointless.

  “Why do I want to keep fucking the girl who made the world disappear until all I could feel was the clench of her cunt on my cock?” He tilts his head. “Isn’t the reason obvious?”

  “There’s no point in even having this conversation. If that’s your one condition, the answer is no. It’s not even an option.”

  I reach for the door lock again.

  “Sure it is,” he argues, hand against the door preventing me from opening it.

  I’m not scared. He’s not the type to take something that isn’t offered, but there’s a magnetism circling around us that’s more dangerous than a perceived threat to my safety.

  “As you stated earlier, I’m a porn star. I get paid to fuck. If I’m not fucking other people, I don’t get paid. The only reason I came here to get you to sign the waiver is because my job is on the line.” I turn back in his direction, hoping to plead with him to change his mind. His tongue licks his lower lip, and I realize it was a mistake.

  “I watched your other videos,” he says out of nowhere.

  “Lots of people watch those videos.” I wince, realizing that probably isn’t the best thing to say if I want him to agree. I should play down the popularity of Sorority Crowd Pleaser.

  “None of those other guys fuck you like I do.”

  Very true.

  “A lot of guys fuck me.”

  He stiffens, and I immediately want to tell him I’m lying. I’m no saint, but six guys total, including him and the other three guys I was paid to fuck at parties, isn’t an exorbitant amount. I had friends in high school that hit that number before walking across the stage for their diploma.

  My words do exactly what I thought they would. He removes his hand from the door and puts distance between our bodies. Of their own free will, my shoulders slump at the loss of his body heat. Before I can pull the door open all the way, he’s beside me again, black sharpie in hand.

  “When you change your mind, call me.” I watch, stunned as he scribbles his phone number on the open pages of the book tattooed on my forearm.

  I open my mouth to tell him not to hold his breath, that the call will never come, but before I can push a sound out of my lungs, his mouth is covering mine.

  I whimper, taken aback by the kiss, but rather than push him away like I did earlier, I clutch him to my chest. This time, it’s Jake who pushes against my body to break our connection. My heart is pounding in my ears, the only sound to be heard is my own erratic breathing. I don’t remember ever responding to a kiss like that before.

  “Don’t take too long, Cici,” he purrs, nose trailing down the sensitive column of my neck.

  He opens the door wider so I can step through. I hightail it out of there, on the verge of agreeing to fuck only him. Even though it would leave me homeless, without a car, and unemployed, I’m turned on beyond measure at the thought of sleeping with him again.

  When I get home, instead of texting Vic to admit my failure, I jump in the shower. The cold water does nothing to alleviate the heat Jake left on my skin.

  Jake. What kind of damn name is that anyway?

  “Fun-loving, good-time fucking name,” I mutter as I rinse the conditioner from my hair.

  I don’t bother with the blow dryer after toweling off. Deciding to just get the shit over with, I pull out my phone and text Vic.

  Cici: No dice on the contract. He refuses to sign it unless I only fuck him.

  The three little dots show up and disappear multiple times before they disappear altogether. The first sight of them had given me hope, as if he’d been bluffing about firing me. I could even handle not getting paid for last night, but unemployment is daunting. There aren’t many places that will accept porn star on a resume, and the other companies aren’t very reputable, and I’m not taking a chance with my safety or my health. SCP is the only game in town that I’d consider.

  I dress in a ratty t-shirt and yoga pants. No intention of leaving the house means dressing like a hobo and not caring.

  Rather than hitting the freezer for the two pints of ice cream I grabbed at the gas station on the way back from the frat house, I turn and head into my spare bedroom.

  The makeup lining the tables and dressers usually brings me a sense of peace. The foundations, eyeshadows, and lipsticks customarily make my pulse spike with possibility. Tonight they only serve as a reminder of my failed attempt at doing what I actually love. There are a plethora of potential jobs in the Dallas/Fort Worth area for people with degrees and experience as make-up artists.

  The only problem is, I have a love of design, but formal education isn’t something I possess. My only experience has been for myself and for Jas and Ellis when they need me. Neither of which held any weight for real opportunity.

  Sighing, I flip the light right back off and head toward the freezer. I smile, seeing Havoc asleep in his kennel.

  “At least one of our lives doesn’t suck,” I mutter as I reach the freezer.

  My phone chimes a text, and I almost ignore it. I almost reach into the freezer and pull out the only thing that will bring me solace right now. It will also upset my stomach tonight and make me run forever tomorrow. Both worth it right now. Instead, I turn back and scoop my phone off of the coffee table.

  Vic: That’s a perfect idea.

  It vibrates in my hand as I’m staring down, shocked at the message.

  Vic: I’ll email you all of the necessary forms.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  Chapter 6

  Jake

  I’m still watching the bedroom door, hoping she wouldn’t even make it outside before changing her mind and coming back up here to tell me the good news.

  She doesn’t.

  The hallway remains empty, even though my cock is still standing at attention with her honey scent lingering in the air. The shrill ring of my cell phone agitates me, if only because I know who’s calling, and I’m going to have to deal with it eventually. Waiting any longer t
o respond only ensures that my father or someone that works for him will be on my doorstep by tomorrow morning.

  Grabbing my cell from the charger, I take a fortifying breath before putting it to my ear.

  “Cynthia,” I say merrily into the phone as if I’m not about to get my ass ripped.

  “Why do you have to make my job so damn difficult?” So much for pleasantries. The flustered tone of Cynthia’s voice is nothing new to me. Cynthia Vasquez has been my dad’s press secretary for as long as I can remember, and with all of the trouble I’ve been getting into since I could leave the house alone, she’s been a staple in my life.

  “I didn’t mean to?” I smile at the long, controlled breath she releases.

  “Were you intoxicated?”

  “I’d been drinking.”

  “Drugs?”

  I frown. “You know I don’t mess with that shit.”

  “Is it possible someone drugged you?”

  I chuckle at the hope in her voice. “Why does it sound like you wanted someone to drug me?”

  “Seriously, Jacob?” She huffs so loud I have to pull my phone from my ear. “It would mean you weren’t responsible for your dick being all over the internet.”

  “Not just the internet,” I correct. “Someone sent me a preview for E! Seems my cock will make a prime-time appearance this evening.”

  “We already put a stop to that.”

  “How?”

  “We explained you were under duress. No one wants to face the fire of advertising a rape video.” I hear her say something to someone else in the room with her. “We’ve contacted local authorities to have that young woman arrested for sexual assault.”

  “I wasn’t raped,” I seethe into the phone.

  “Well, be that as it may, but it sure beats the alternative. I’ve emailed you the statement you’re to make at the press conference tomorrow afternoon. If you could squeeze out a few tears, that’d be great.”

  “I won’t do it. I was a willing participant.”

  “Jacob, now is not the time to pick your battles.”

  I squeeze my phone until I hear it groan under the strain. “Let dear old dad know that I signed a waiver for the professional video to be uploaded.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I wasn’t raped. I’m a porn star. The world is fixing to see a lot more of my dick.”

  I’m met with thick silence on the other end of the line, but I know she’s one to always have the last word.

  “He’ll disown you for good,” she warns.

  “Best news I’ve heard all day.” I hang up the phone with a flourish and toss it on my bed.

  I know they will insist the investigation be pulled by the local authorities. My dick on TV isn’t as bad as a witch hunt for a woman who willingly had sex. Accusing someone of rape when there isn’t someone there to corroborate that story is career suicide, and if there’s anything my dad isn’t willing to do, its ruin his career.

  “Want to tell me why that sexy little thing ran out of here like her ass was on fire.”

  Forgetting the conversation I just had with Cynthia, I grin down at my best friend as he makes himself comfortable on top of my unmade bed.

  “It’s a seriously nice ass,” I lament as I fall into the armchair.

  “You fuck her again?”

  “Man,” I begin running my hand over the top of my head. “I fucking wish.”

  “You actually want to?” He seems confused.

  “She’s the best I’ve ever had.”

  “Of course she is. She’s a professional.” I scowl. “She literally fucks like it’s her job because it is.”

  The three videos I watched this morning come to mind.

  “The videos,” I mutter as if saying it out loud is the only thing that makes them real.

  “It was only three,” Hunter says.

  “Isn’t that enough?” The realization of exactly what her job means begins to sink in, and I hate the way it sits in my gut like rotten meat.

  “Really?” Hunter sits up on the bed. “You fucked twice that many girls in the last two weeks.”

  I shake my head more than a little confused by him.

  “One minute you’re surprised I want to hook up with her again, and the next you’re upset that I point out she’s a porn star. Make up your fucking mind, because it’s making my head spin.”

  His smile grows. “I’m merely pointing out that slut-shaming just because she’s female is ridiculous. So she fucks for money? Sounds like a smart plan considering all of us do it for free.”

  “Good point,” I agree.

  Silence fills the room, each of us waiting for the other to either delve deeper into the conversation or make the decision to move on.

  I cave first. “She was here to get me to sign a waiver. Apparently, the videos that were uploaded weren’t the professional ones.”

  His head tilts. “I’m confused.”

  “I fit the description of the guy she was supposed to meet last night.” He still looks confused. “The other porn star?”

  “It’s not random guys hooking up at a party?” He sounds shocked and mildly betrayed.

  “I guess not. They can’t use the video unless I sign the paperwork allowing them to use it.”

  “And?” He leans closer.

  “I told her the only way I’ll sign is if she only fucks me from now on.”

  His face falls. “That’s ridiculous. Are you slow? The whole point of being a porn star is sleeping with guys in videos. You can’t dictate who she sleeps with.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, hating that he’s pointing out the flaws in my perfect plan. “That was the deal.”

  “And if she doesn’t agree?”

  “If I don’t sign, she’ll lose her job, which means she won’t be fucking anyone else anyway.”

  Hunter sighs and falls back on my bed. “You’re an idiot.”

  “The plan is foolproof. Either she fucks me, or she fucks no one.”

  “Maybe she’ll lose that job, but that doesn’t mean she won’t find another. She’s gorgeous, with a body hetero men would sell their left nut for. If you think she’ll be unemployed for long, you’re dumber than I thought.”

  “She’ll agree,” I say out loud, praying that I’m right.

  “She was all but spitting nails when she came downstairs.” He sighs. “I think you’re overestimating that gorgeous dick of yours.”

  “Hunter,” I warn.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he says sitting up and climbing off of my bed. “Don’t say dirty shit about your dick. It makes you uncomfortable.”

  Turning back to face me before he leaves my room, he studies my face. “Why?”

  “Why what?” I ask.

  “Why do you want to sleep with her again? There are tons of women who are willing to jump on your cock. Are you trying to give your old man a stroke?”

  I shrug. “She’s the best I’ve ever had.”

  The answer is exactly what it was at the beginning of the conversation, and it seems like the perfect response to a very scientific question.

  When things feel good, keep doing them. When it hurts, stop.

  “But it will,” Hunter says.

  “Will what?”

  “Give your dad a stroke.”

  I shrug. If I actually thought physical harm would come to my dad I might actually reconsider my actions, but I know he sold his soul to the Devil a long time ago, and there’s nothing I can do to hurt him anymore. His political career on the other hand? Well, that may suffer a little after my latest stunt.

  “He’ll cut you off.”

  “Cynthia said the same thing, but what both of you are forgetting is that my mother was the one with money. My father doesn’t support me. It’s the trust she created that sustains my way of life.”

  “So that means—”

  “My father ruined my mom, so my life goal is to ruin him.”

  Hunter’s laugh follows him out of the roo
m. He’s well aware of the depraved things my father is capable of, and I know in a pinch he’s always on my side, even if my choices aren’t the best.

  Chapter 7

  Randi

  “This is it,” I mutter as Joey hands me a double shot of tequila. “This is proof Vic hates me.”

  “He doesn’t,” Joey assures me, taking the empty glass as I try to breathe around the fire rolling down my throat.

  “If he doesn’t, why am I back at Lambda Phi Gamma?”

  Joey smiles, the whites of his eyes disappearing, hidden behind his chubby cheeks. “You’re the one who lied and told him that Jake was out of town until this weekend.”

  “I had to do something,” I hiss. “He was going to fire me.”

  “Well,” Joey says grabbing my shoulders and turning me to face the same couch I fucked Jake on last weekend. “While you wait for him to show up so you can agree to sleep with only him, you need to go fuck Wallace.”

  I sneer at him.

  “Go on,” he urges with a slap to my ass. “Enjoy it, because you’ll be getting the same old dick from now on if Jake is willing to actually follow through.”

  As I make my way across the room, I eye the guy who confronted me on the front porch. Wallace. He’s the one I was supposed to hook up with instead of Jake.

  Last weekend seems like a lifetime ago, and Wallace, a man I would’ve found attractive in the past, pales in comparison to Jake.

  He may have on ripped jeans and tattoos down one arm. He may have features that confused me last time and made me mistake this man for the one I’ve already had, but taking a long look now, I know he’s a generic Jake. His tattoos are dull and cheap. The cocky grin on his face makes him look like a douchebag because it has nothing on the look I remember on Jake’s face. He looked at me like he was so sure I’d ride his cock, but at the same time, he was grateful for the opportunity.

  This guy doesn’t have shit on Jake, but work is work.

  “Oh, honey. Please tell me this doesn’t mean what I think it means.” I look over at the man talking to me as he pulls out his phone. His fingers go to work tapping out a message.

  “Your makeup is absolute perfection.” What else can I say? Stunning, perfectly constructed peacock feathers cover the lids of both of his eyes.