Her thighs press against my ears and it muffles the sound, but I can still hear her panting and moaning. It’s probably been less than a minute before she detonates. She’s got to brace herself against the counter as she shakes, and I move to kiss the inside of her thighs while she trembles with the aftershocks. So hot!
I stand up and step back a couple feet away from her as I take my shirt off slowly. She likes watching me take my clothes off, she’s told me that before, and I want to give her a little show. She bites her bottom lip when I peel down to nothing, and her eyes lock on my dick. You like what you see, Lo? I can tell from the way she licks her lips and exhales that she does, in fact, really like what she sees. It’s really flattering how she always seems impressed with my body. I feel that way about her, but I totally dig that she gets turned on just looking at me too.
I take her hand and lead her to the bathtub. I get in first, and she settles into the suds and leans against me, her back to my chest.
Tonight’s about pampering; it’s sensual and slow, tender and very loving. I sit her up a little and start washing her with the soft sponge I bought especially for this purpose. I’m being extra gentle, slowly spreading the warm water over her. She makes a breathy moan every time I squeeze the sponge. Shit! It’s so awesome how the tiniest things get her going.
Finally, I lay her back against me and let my hands travel over her. Her hips involuntarily rock when I start rubbing my fingers over her nipples. God, I love how quickly she gets turned on! When I slide my right hand between her legs, she starts panting, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I get to hear those sexy whimpers again.
Suddenly, she grabs my hand, stilling my movements.
“Did you hear that?” she asks.
“Hear what, baby?” I whisper against her neck.
“Seriously, wait a sec,” she says, holding her hand up to silence me. “I heard something.”
“What?” I ask her, trying to get my brain out of lust territory and back into the real world.
“A fluttering.”
We both sit perfectly still, listening for any sounds. Then I hear it too. A fluttering sound, like wings.
“See?” she whispers. “What the fuck was that?”
I glance around, trying to find the source of the flapping, when I see a shadow against the wall.
“James!” she gasps. “What the fuck was that?”
I have no idea, and I tell her that, but she’s getting progressively freaked out and she’s clinging to me.
Then I see it. It’s got a furry body and big wings, but it isn’t a moth. It’s a fuckin’ bat! It must have flown in through the skylight.
Lola screams and sinks down in the water like she can submerge herself to escape.
“Get it out! Get it out! Get it out!” she shrieks, only her head above the waterline.
I’m picturing all sorts of scenarios where I get bit and end up with rabies, but I want to be heroic, so I get out of the tub and wrap a towel around my waist as I flick on the lights.
Yep, it’s a bat. It’s clearly just as freaked out as we are because it’s zipping all over the bathroom. I’m guessing Lola’s screeching is fucking up its echolocation or something, because it’s hitting the walls and buzzing dangerously close to the candles.
“Blow out the candles by the tub,” I instruct her as I blow out the ones near the sink. I’d hate to catch the whole fuckin’ house on fire because of a tiny bat.
She’s still screaming for me to “get that thing the fuck out of here” as she blows out the candles and cowers back into the water.
“Lo, calm down! Jesus!” I say, opening the door to the bathroom to see if I can get it to fly out of this small space. The odds of it escaping back out the small skylight are pretty slim, so I’m hoping I can lure it out onto the bedroom patio if I open the doors.
I see her grab a towel out of the corner of my eye as the bat makes its way toward the door, but it makes a sudden U-turn and heads right for her, so she practically dives back into the tub, towel and all, and completely submerges herself under the water. Despite the chaos, it’s super funny and I’m trying not to laugh too hard at the way she’s in full-on panic mode.
The bat changes directions and makes right for me, so I have to hit the floor to avoid it as it passes through the door into the bedroom.
I’m out there in two seconds. My towel has fallen completely off, and I feel like I’m in a goddamn action movie as I scramble for the bed sheet and hold it up so I can toss it over the bat if it buzzes me again.
I don’t notice Lola behind me until I hear her shrill commands again.
“Don’t kill it!” she wails. “But get it out of here!”
“I’m not gonna kill it, but I don’t want it to bite us.”
“Jesus Christ!” she shrieks. “We’re gonna get rabies! I’m pretty sure you can die from that!”
At exactly that moment, the bat dive-bombs us and I try to throw the sheet over it, but I miss and it heads toward Lola.
She screams like Jeffrey fuckin’ Dahmer is after her, and she’s a blur of motion as she runs into the closet and slams the door.
“Get it out!” she screams.
I try to get my shit together and figure out how I’m going to get this possibly rabid bat out of our house. I have to get it to fly outside somehow. I really don’t want to hurt it; it’s not the bat’s fault that it flew in here by mistake, but I need to find some way of encouraging it to get the fuck out of here.
Unfortunately, we have only the bare minimum in the house and there’s nothing to swat at it with, so I take my towel from the ground and roll it so it’s like a rope. I’m going to Indiana Jones this thing out of here.
It’s flapping around the ceiling, and I’m flicking the towel at it to try to direct it toward the door. Lola’s still freaking the fuck out in the closet, and I can’t help but start laughing.
“James! Jesus Christ, get that thing out of here!” she screams—mind you, she’s totally safe behind a door right now.
“I’m trying, Lo! Do you want to help me?”
“No! You’re supposed to be the tough man! Be the man and take care of it!”
I laugh even harder. Apparently Miss Independent Woman becomes Miss Damsel In Distress when little flying mammals that might have rabies are in the mix.
I manage to tap it with the towel, and it starts moving toward the door.
“Get it out!” she’s screeching from her shelter in the closet.
I smack at it again and it circles a little closer.
“Get it the fuck out of here!” she shrieks, unable to see that I’m making a little progress here.
Another smack and it moves down the vaulted ceiling on the side toward the door.
“James, get that bat out of this house!”
Flick. Smack. Swat. It’s inching nearer to the door.
I can’t stop myself from cracking the hell up. She’s safely locked away in the closet, but she’s screaming like she’s being murdered. I can only imagine what the neighbors will think if they can hear all this commotion.
Finally, I get the fucker to fly outside, and I close the door, throwing the lock like bats are velociraptors and they can figure out how to turn knobs and shit.
I rush to close the skylight, and I throw open the closet door.
Lola screams bloody murder, and I grab her shoulders tightly.
“Lo, shut the fuck up!” I say through uncontrollable laughter. “It flew out the goddamn door. Stop fuckin’ screaming!”
She quiets down and then takes a tentative step into the bedroom. She takes one look around, and I can see the humor spread over her face.
I’m butt naked, soaking wet, and panting. There’s water all over the floor, a rolled-up towel on the ground near the stripped air mattress. The bathroom is in no better condition. There’s wax all over the counter from where a couple candles were knocked over, and there’s even a candle floating in the bathtub. She standing there in a s
oaking wet towel with pieces of her hair all wet and stuck to her neck, making her bun look like it’s had a run-in with a hurricane.
She completely loses it, laughing hysterically and holding her stomach. She actually drops to her knees and gasps as she keeps cackling.
It’s pretty goddamn funny, and soon I’m cracking up along with her.
“So much for the romantic first night in the house,” she says between gasps of laughter.
I put my arm around her, and we both laugh until our stomachs hurt.
“Let’s get this shit cleaned up and go the fuck to bed.” I snicker when we finally stand up.
It takes about a half hour to get the candles put away. We don’t even bother trying to scrape the wax off the counter. We’ll do that tomorrow, and there are no extra towels to mop up the water, so we figure we’ll have to let it air dry.
Lola absolutely will not use the “bat sheet” because she claims we’ll get some kind of deadly disease like in Contagion, so we wrap the blanket around us as best we can and crawl into bed naked, knowing that the overnight bag we had got pretty soaked in the commotion.
She’s still laughing when I throw my arm over her waist and pull her into me.
“Welcome home, huh?” she says, snickering.
“Yeah, welcome the fuck home,” I reply with a laugh and kiss her head.
Our adrenaline gives out pretty soon after that, and we both crash pretty hard, falling asleep quickly and sleeping through the entire night.
Chapter 12
Lola
IT’S WEEK TWO IN THE HOUSE and I feel like our lives have this new momentum. We got new furniture—including a king-sized bed, which we’ve put to very good use. We had a little housewarming for our friends. We even locked down a venue for the wedding. Now we’re at the invitation phase, and I’m making a giant list of who to include. My old friend, Naveen, might be on assignment, but we still need to send one to him. I suppose we’ll have to invite smart-ass Joey Corsentino, since he and James are still close. We’ve gone through both of our Facebook lists and picked out the cream of the crop, so we’ve pretty much got all our friends covered, but now we’re on the family category. James has a zillion cousins, most of whom I met when I was little, and we’re talking about where everyone will sit when he brings up the issue I wanted to bypass altogether.
“What about your dad?” he cautiously asks.
I haven’t talked to my dad in over a year. He’s been such a negative force in my life that I thought it was best to cut him off completely. It’s not like there was any kind of formal declaration or a fight of any kind, I just didn’t call him anymore and—big surprise—he didn’t call me either. Unless I’m right in front of him, I don’t think I’m in his thoughts at all.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m not inviting him.”
“Lola,” James says in a reprimanding tone.
“What? I don’t want him there, so I’m not sending an invite.”
“Dude, that’s really harsh.”
“I don’t think he even knows we’re together, James. Why would I invite him into my life when I’m totally happy, just so he could bring me down?”
“You don’t know that he’s going to do that. Shit, my dad will probably be the biggest asshole there.”
“Oh, please!” I say, rolling my eyes. “Your dad looks like Mr. Rogers compared to my father. Your dad used to get mad at you and yell at you. That’s a lot better than ignoring you altogether for your entire childhood. Indifference sucks more than just plain being a dick.”
“So this is what we’re doing now?” He grins, raising an eyebrow. “We’re having a ‘whose dad is the bigger asshole’ competition?”
“Yes, and I win,” I say, crossing my arms in frustration.
“He’s a dick, Lola,” James softly replies, “but he’s your dad. I’m inviting my dad, and he fuckin’ hates me.”
“James, I really don’t want him there,” I whine. “He’s already got a negative opinion of everything I like, and I don’t even want to think about what he’ll have to say when he finds out I’m married to a fucking porn star. Jesus Christ! That’ll fuel him like enriched uranium.”
James snickers and puts his arm around me.
“Seriously,” I plead, “he’s just going to be awful about it. The snotty comments will be endless, and he’ll be so rude to you and your family. Your parents are finally starting to accept you again, and I don’t want him poisoning the well.”
“I love that you’re worried about it for me,” he says, kissing my head. “I can handle it, babe. Your dad being a dick to me isn’t a factor.”
“But I hate when people are dicks to you.”
“I know, and I love that about you. I feel the same way. Believe me, I’ve wanted to exchange some words with your dad a few times, but he is still your dad. I’m sure he’ll want to walk you down the aisle and stuff.”
“That’s out of the question!” I wave my hand, ruling it out.
“It’s traditional.” His smile is sympathetic, but also a little amused.
“It’s also traditional for the bride and groom to refrain from fucking like wildebeests before they’re hitched,” I counter. “So don’t sit here and act like you’re Mr. Traditional all of a sudden.”
He laughs and gives me a shrug. I’ve got a point, and he knows it.
“I don’t want my father anywhere near this shindig,” I continue, stating my case. “He wasn’t there for me growing up, so he doesn’t get to be a part of this big event in my life.”
He can tell I’m getting a little pissed off, so he holds up his hands in surrender. “Don’t get pissed at me. I’m just playing devil’s advocate here.”
“Literally, because he is the fucking devil.” I pout.
“Okay, how about this,” he proposes. “What if we sent his invite, but we sent it really late? That way we could still be like, ‘Yeah, we sent it to you,’ but it’ll be such short notice that he totally won’t rearrange his schedule to come down. We’ll be assholes, but we won’t look like we’re being total assholes.”
I give him a wide smile. “I like that idea.”
“And if he shows up, and he’s a dick, I’m sure your Uncle Pauly will have no problem with escorting him off the premises,” he says, grinning.
My mom’s brother, Pauly, is a total hotheaded, Italian alpha male, and he does not care for my dad. He likes James, of course, and he even called to congratulate us when my mom told him we eloped in Vegas. Most of my family members don’t judge James on his career, only on how he treats me—which happens to be like a goddess—so they’ve accepted him, though I’m not sure my Nana really knows what kind of movies James used to make.
“Don’t worry about this shit,” James says, motioning to the list as he plants a big smooch on my cheek. “The only thing I’m going to be thinking about on that day is you, so family drama, asshole dads, all the rest of it isn’t going to matter to me.”
“Then I’m going to try to do the same.” I nod and give him a kiss.
Chapter 13
James
I CAN HEAR FEMALE VOICES chatting away as I round the hallway at the Electric Lady offices. Shawnna invited me to a lunch meeting with her and the team, and the topic of the day is the toy line. So far, it’s going gangbusters and we’re beating all kinds of sales goals. Today, she said she wants to talk diversifying, and she’s got some ideas she wants to pitch me. Naturally, I agreed and I managed to squeeze this meeting into my otherwise busy day of lounging around the pool waiting for Lola to get back from yoga.
“Hello¸ ladies,” I say with a charming grin as I round the corner and stop in the doorway.
There’s high-pitched greetings and chatter as I go around and hug them all. First is the lovely, raven-haired Veronica Kane, who is basically Shawnna’s right-hand woman. Next around the big boardroom table is Nikki Foxx, a blonde who used to be famous for her interracial videos in the nineteen-nineties. After Nikki, I make my way aroun
d the table to Jessica Rose, a slender redhead who was, for a period of time, the undisputed queen of blowjobs. Last but not least is Shawnna, who throws her arms over my shoulders and squeezes me tight.
“Look at you, handsome, with your sexy beard,” she remarks, giving my butt a little smack. “Married life agrees with you, James.”
“Thanks, Shawnna.”
They’ve got plates in front of them, and Nikki points to the box of gourmet sandwiches on the side table and tells me to take one. I’ve heard of the deli where they got them, but I haven’t had the chance to try it before.
“Is this turkey avocado?” I ask, peeking at one.
“Yes,” Shawnna replies, sipping a Coke. “It’s delicious. I’m on my second one today—in other words, I’ll be hitting the treadmill pretty hard after work.”
I laugh as I grab one and take a seat next to Veronica, who hands me a Fiji water and pats my knee.
Out of the four founders of Electric Lady, I’ve only worked with Shawnna—though I did make out with Veronica at a party once. I was always a fan of both Nikki and Jessica, but they both retired before I ever got the chance to shoot scenes with them.
“Well, darling, I’m thrilled that you could come meet with us today because we have some really exciting stuff for you,” Shawnna begins.
The ladies unlock their iPads as Shawnna slides me a three-ring binder.
“Diversity is the spice of life, my friend,” she says. “That big-ass binder you hold in your hands contains every single sex toy we can manufacture cost-effectively, and I’d like to expand your range.”
“Sweet!” I say, opening up the book.
“There’s a huge market right now for toys couples can use together,” Veronica chimes in. “We thought it would be great to get some of those into the James Langdon line. Women already love your custom molded stuff, but men can be a little intimidated by it.”
I laugh as Shawnna gives me a wink.
“We were thinking we could cash in on the existing brand recognition and go with something a little kinkier than just dildos and vibrators,” Veronica summarizes.
Vice, Virtue & Video: Devoted Page 14
