Captured (Vice, Virtue & Video Book 2)

by Bianca Giovanni

  My head snaps to the door when I hear the lock turn. Lola enters with a smile, but it immediately drops from her face when she sees the state I’m in. She drops her purse on the ground and rushes over to me, wrapping her arms around me protectively. I swallow hard and try to stay composed, but I can’t help it—I start crying.

  “Oh, honey,” she says, cradling my head to her chest as I curl into her. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

  She strokes my hair soothingly, and it feels good. It makes me feel safe, like as long as I’m close to her I won’t feel like such a monster. Lola doesn’t see me that way. As far as she knows, I’m kind and gentle. That’s the way I always am with her, so she probably wouldn’t even think I could do some awful shit like I did today.

  Thinking about the contrast from the way I am with Lola to the way I was this afternoon makes me cry harder. I feel like the dam has been blown to smithereens and everything’s coming out. I’m mad at myself. I’m ashamed of what I did. I’m freaked out that thinking about Lola was the only way I could come. I’m confused about the meaning of all this. I’m normally so chilled out, and I’m not used to this flood of negative emotions.

  “What’s the matter, baby?” she says softly, holding me close.

  “I did Eva’s video,” I weakly reply.

  “Oh,” she says with surprise. We’ve discussed this video a lot, and Lola always tells me I need to talk to Rick about my hard limits so I won’t get sucked into shit like this.

  “It was…just…really bad.”

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?” she whispers as she raises my head up and wipes my tears away with her little hands. The touch of her skin is so reassuring that I have to close my eyes as her warmth radiates into me.

  “I can’t tell you.” My voice sounds hoarse and gravelly, and my throat’s all tight.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’ll never talk to me again. The things I did…horrible, reprehensible things…I don’t want you to think less of me. I like the way you are with me so much, and you’ll never want to hang out with me again if I tell you what I did to this girl.”

  “James,” she says, looking right in my eyes so her words will sink in. “I will never think less of you, okay? You are my best friend in the world, and I’m going to love you no matter what. Don’t keep this all inside, all right? Don’t bottle this up.”

  “I was so mean,” I reply, sounding exhausted and broken. “I didn’t know I could be like that. I hurt her; I know I did. I became this total sadist, and I was whipping her and jamming things inside her. This wasn’t like the other times. I was hitting her so hard—harder than I’ve ever done it with anybody before. I was trying to hurt her. I wanted her to scream for me to stop, so I kept doing it harder to see when she’d reach her limit, but she never screamed. She just looked at me with those dead eyes of hers and took it.”

  Lola looks shocked, but I can tell she’s trying to hide it. She thinks I’m a monster; I know she does. She’s right, though.

  “Savannah’s gonna have big welts on her for days and probably big bruises for weeks. She’s gonna look like somebody beat her up, but it was me. I beat her up.” Shit! Here come the tears again. “I’m losing myself, Lo,” I whisper so quietly it’s barely audible.

  She kneels on the couch so she can hold me against her. She’s whispering sweet stuff to me and stroking the back of my neck in this calming way that only she can do. I’m crying hard, and my tears are streaking all down her shirt.

  The only time I’ve cried like this around her was when my parents disowned me. It was during a visit home and everything was going great until all hell broke loose when my dad’s friend emailed him a link to one of my videos and outed me. My dad told me he was ashamed of me, and as far as he was concerned, his youngest son was dead. I stayed at Lola’s house for a couple days after that, and I was so raw with emotions that I tried to come onto her. She rejected me, but in a kind and gentle way, and she stayed up late with me and comforted me with hugs and kind words instead of spread legs and bare skin. She was still in fuckin’ high school, but she was so strong and caring. After that, I went back to California, determined to put it all behind me and pretend it didn’t still hurt.

  Maybe my parents were right, though. Maybe I really am some kind of deviant. I certainly felt like one today. Of course, thinking about my parents right now only makes me feel worse, but she squeezes me tighter, and I close my eyes as I try to block everything out and just think about her and me, alone in my apartment having this big emotional moment.

  “It’s okay, baby,” she whispers to me. “You’re struggling right now because you’ve never been faced with anything like this. You love your job, and this business is all you know, so the thought of it turning on you is frightening to you.” How she can cut to the core of the problem so perfectly is beyond me, but she always does. “You’re right, sweetie. You are losing yourself, and you can’t let that happen, okay?”

  I sniffle and nod my head.

  “This isn’t you, James, and I don’t want you to lose who you are. I care about you so much, and I couldn’t bear it if you became some cold, cynical asshole because of this fucking industry,” she says, her voice giving away her deep concern.

  “Rick’s gonna make me do more films with her. He’s making too much money off it, and I know he’s gonna make me do more.” The horrible, all-encompassing dread of it sinks in, and I wish I could just hit pause until I figure out how the fuck to get out of this.

  “Can Rick do that? Can he make you do something you don’t want to do?”

  “He owns every piece of work I’ve ever done and everything I will do for the next five years. He owns my life in this business; I signed a contract with him. I’m trapped. I’ve always trusted Rick. Always could. He’s greedy, but he’s been good to me. He’ll make a deal with Eva and it’ll be fine, but then Eva will take charge on the set and order me to do all this fucked-up shit.” I sniffle and grab a tissue from the end table.

  “How can this even be legal? Eva can’t force you to have sex, and she definitely can’t force you to hurt someone!”

  “Our contracts are about sex, Lo. We all have a list of our limits and stuff, but things can change on the set. Think about all the times the girls have bent the rules for me and done shit that wasn’t on the rundown for the day. You can get caught up in the moment—usually it’s in a good way, but now I know that shit can backfire. Now I’m gonna be stuck there with Eva yelling orders and making me hurt that girl…and there’s no way out.”

  “Christ! This is like a horror movie.” She sighs in exasperation. “What can we do? How can we stop this?”

  We? She said how can we stop this. She’s right here with me, and she’s got my back just like she did that horrible day my family disowned me.

  “I don’t know. I’m scared to cross Eva in any way. I’ve heard she’s had people bludgeoned and shit for refusing her.”

  “Fuck!” Lola sighs. “Look, let me talk to Eric. He’s a lawyer, maybe he can figure out how we can get you out of this contract.”

  I feel a glimmer of hope, albeit a dim one. Maybe there’s some use for that douchey Norseman after all.

  “Come on,” she says, rising off the couch and extending her hand. “I want you to stay with me tonight. I don’t want you to be by yourself.”

  I can feel a wave of relief spreading out from deep down in my heart. I grab some overnight stuff and follow her to her place. I feel a lot better after we eat some leftovers and I have a hot shower.

  I flop down on the couch to crash, but she comes over and stands in front of me. Her legs look so long and sexy in her pajama shorts, and I can practically see all the way up her thighs from this angle. No, no. I refuse to let myself think of her like that. This is exactly what happened the last time I got really depressed, and I ended up on top of her, trying to stick my hand down her pants.

  “Sleep in my bed.” She nods toward her bedroom.

&nbs
p; “Really?” I can’t hide my huge smile.

  “Yeah, come on,” she says, taking my hand and leading me into her bedroom.

  The very first time I slept with Lola was on camping trip when we were little kids. Me and my cousins were going up to the mountains, and Lola’s mom said she could come along. My cousins were teenagers and I was only eleven, so they made me sleep in a separate “little kids” tent with her while they all made out with their girlfriends and boyfriends. Lola got scared in the middle of the night—she was only eight, after all—and I told her to crawl into my sleeping bag because I’d protect her from bears and mountain lions. Comforting her like that made me feel so grown-up and, though I wasn’t too aware of sexual shit at that age, I liked holding a girl in my arms.

  I’ve shared a bed with her a few times since then, including the night I made her come, and I still get a happy feeling from being super close to her. Tonight, I feel this weird rush of warmth and a fluttering sensation in my chest as I get under the covers with her.

  I lie down on my back, and she props herself up on her elbow so she can look at me. She puts her hand on my heart and kisses my cheek.

  “You’re a good guy, James Laird,” she says softly. “Please don’t let anyone or anything change that.”

  She gives me another sweet, caring little kiss on the cheek and turns out the light. She cuddles up to me, and just the feeling of holding her in my arms makes me think that everything’s going to be okay.

  I close my eyes and try to go to sleep, but waking nightmares of Savannah flash through my brain. I try to focus my concentration to take my mind off of things. My most vivid memories are usually of sex, and I think about the way Amy Montgomery’s ankles were clamped together around my back when I took her up against the wall in the boys’ locker room sophomore year. I picture Angie Gutierrez’s huge tits heaving up and down when I went down on her in the back of her brother’s Montero junior year. I smile when I remember how Vanessa Everleigh screamed out my name so loud that I thought her dad might come downstairs with a gun the time I fucked her in the home theater room at her house.

  Those memories make me happy because I made those girls so happy. We both had an awesome time having awesome sex, and when we parted ways, everything was cool and cordial. Nobody got hurt and both of us enjoyed ourselves. Sex was so easy before. Whenever I was feeling down, there was always a girl who wanted to fuck me and everything felt okay. It was the universal problem-solver. Fun, intimate, and abundant.

  I look over at Lola, and I feel kind of weird. I’m lying here in bed with a gorgeous girl I really care about who also really cares about me. Normally, I’d seek a little relief between her thighs, but tonight I don’t have that urge to bury myself inside her and screw my problems away. It’s a new feeling, and it’s confusing, but pleasantly confusing. She’s sleeping so serenely and all cuddled up into me. I kiss her forehead and close my eyes as I manage to fall asleep to the rhythmic sound of her breathing.

  Chapter 7

  Lola

  JAMES HAS BEEN FEELING BETTER, and I’m happy. It’s been two weeks since his scene with Eva, and his next shoot is a normal one, so he’s coming back around to the happy, laid-back dude he used to be.

  Now I’m the one who’s freaking out because I want to help him get out of this contract and I don’t know how. I brought it up to Eric last week when we were on a date, and he told me he’d look it over if I could get him a copy, but then we got distracted making out. Things have been progressing pretty fast with him, and I can tell he’s super into me. I’m still a little hesitant because I just can’t decide if I want to sleep with him or not. James has put so much importance on it that now I feel totally uncertain about Eric’s qualifications, so to speak.

  Tonight, we’re making out on the couch at my apartment. My dress is mostly off and bunched together around my waist, the cups of my bra are down and my breasts are exposed. My panties have been long since torn off and cast on the floor by the coffee table. Eric’s down to just his boxers, and he’s kissing down my neck. I feel so turned on.

  He tugs my bra down a little more before reaching behind me and rapidly unfastening it. He takes my breasts in both of his hands and squeezes them together firmly as he flicks his tongue over my nipples. I exhale and watch him as he takes one in his mouth, then the other. His teeth graze my skin, and he bites down on me lightly at first, but then a bit firmer. It hurts a little, but it also feels kind of good.

  He continues to suckle and nibble on my breasts as his hand slides down my body. His palm grips my ass, and he pulls my legs apart so he’s lying on top of me between them. I can feel how hard he is as he presses his pelvis into me. My hands reach inside his boxers, and I wrap my fingers around his length. He bites down hard on my nipple as I stroke him, and I whimper a little. That was a little too hard.

  Suddenly, he lifts himself up and grabs me by my ankles. He pulls me down the couch and tears my dress off so I’m totally naked. He dives back onto me and kisses me passionately as I resume my motions. I work my wrist a little more, and I can feel his intense desire resonating in his frenzied kiss. His mouth drifts down my neck and onto my breasts again, one of his hands squeezing tightly as he tugs at my nipple with his teeth. This is harder than any guy has done it before and it’s a little painful, but it feels amazing once he dials it back a little bit. I’ve never had a guy go so ravenous for me, and it’s kind of flattering.

  “Oh, fuck, Lola.” He exhales, his voice ragged with lust. “Your hands are so soft.”

  It spurs me on, and I move my hand a little faster, tightening my grip ever so slightly. He’s thrusting into my palm, and it feels like he’s getting close. I’m trying to think about how the girls do it in James’s movies. They’re professionals; they know what feels good. I remember them making a sort of circular motion, so I give that a try. That’s the ticket because Eric starts bucking into me, and he sucks my sensitive nipples so hard that I gasp.

  “Fuck! Oh, yes, baby. You’re gonna make me come,” he pants, his breath hot against my chest.

  I feel his whole body grow rigid as his muscles tighten right before his release. He bites down on my nipple so hard that I yelp as he pours out onto my stomach. I squirm a little. I feel so porn-ish right now.

  I don’t have much time to think about it, though, because his fingers cup me between my thighs, and he starts vigorously rubbing me. Before I’m prepared for it, he slides a finger inside me and starts rapidly wiggling it around.

  “Mmm, you’re so tight, baby,” he whispers as he nibbles my earlobe.

  He thrusts another finger into me, and I feel myself stretching around him. I squirm as my body adjusts.

  The last guy who had his fingers inside me was James, and it felt a lot better than it does right now. James was gentle and he did it with finesse, waiting until I was fully warmed up and ready before he went in. That was during the weekend when he gave me my first orgasm, which still holds the title of being my most intense experience to this day.

  “You like the way my fingers fuck you?” Eric breathes salaciously as I try to relax my muscles to ease his entry.

  I moan in response, mostly because he slowed down a little while he asked me. That tenderness is short-lived, and he speeds up again and pushes really deep inside me.

  “Ah, careful.” I wince. Nobody has ever been this far into me before, and I’m not loving the stretch that I’m feeling.

  “Sorry,” he whispers in my ear, moving his fingers back a little.

  I moan when he hits me in just the right spot and he pushes hard against it, wiggling his fingers as fast as he can. He’s so eager, so overzealous, you’d think he found the Lost Ark and not a woman’s G-spot.

  The feeling is so intense, and it makes my hips rock uncontrollably. My mouth falls open and I’m moaning as his palm presses against me from the outside while his fingers wind me into a frenzy on the inside. Oh, shit! Now this feels amazing.

  “Fuck, yes,” he pants, his lips brus
hing my nipples. “I want you to fucking come for me.”

  He speeds up once more, and I lose it. Just then, he bites my nipple. Hard. It hurts, but I’m already tumbling over the edge. I gasp and pant and moan and writhe on the couch as the sensation ricochets through me. My body quakes, and he bites my other nipple just as firmly. I’m too lost in pleasure to tell him to stop.

  When I open my eyes, he’s flicking his tongue over my hypersensitive nipples and looking up at me.

  “Wow, baby! You’re so fucking pretty when you come,” he says, his voice so husky and lustful.

  I sit up a little, but he doesn’t withdraw his fingers.

  “So tight. I can’t wait to be inside you,” he says, kissing me and biting my bottom lip softly.

  “Wait, Eric,” I say, my voice meek and timid. “Not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I-I’m not ready.” The truth is, this has all happened really quickly tonight, and I’ve already crossed all kinds of imaginary lines I’d set for myself.

  “You feel ready.” He smirks, wiggling his fingers inside me. “You’re so wet for me.”

  “I just don’t think we should tonight,” I try to explain.

  “Maybe I could change your mind.” He grins mischievously as he kisses the insides of my thighs. His intention is very clear.

  I’m not ready for that either, so I close my legs. He looks up at me like he’s bewildered.

  “Not yet,” I say apologetically.

  “But I want to taste you,” he replies, flicking his tongue over the little triangle that’s still exposed at the apex of my thighs. “I want your juices all over my lips and I want to fuck you with my tongue.”