I, Porn Star (I #1)

by Zara Cox

  Quinn is up, staring the screen when I return to the bedroom. He turns it off when I walk in, but his gaze searches mine.

  “What?” I ask as I set the tray on his lap.

  He nods to the TV. “You saw what I was watching.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you mad?” he asks warily.

  “That depends.”

  “On?”

  “Why were you watching it?”

  He catches hold of my wrist and rubs his thumb across my pulse. “I want to see you. All the time,” he whispers fervidly. “You probably want me to get rid of it, but I…can’t.”

  I swallow, allowing just a little hope to build. “Why?”

  “Because it helps…it keeps me…here. Because without that connection, I don’t think I can go on. I need it, Elyse. I need you.”

  “Okay. That’s a good start.”

  “It is?” His voice is rough with hope.

  “Yes. Eat, Quinn.”

  He polishes off the meal in record time. I return the tray to the kitchen. He takes another dose of his pills, and I climb into bed with him. I allow him to pull me close and we watch normal TV until we fall asleep.

  The pattern continues for three days.

  On Friday morning, I wake up alone in bed. I jerk upright and force myself to listen for sounds of distress. The bathroom is quiet.

  “Quinn?” He doesn’t answer to the call. I touch the pillow next to mine. It’s cold. I’m about to go in search of him when he walks in. He’s carrying a tray. And he’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, with a baseball cap tucked into his back pocket.

  “You’ve been out?”

  He nods. “Was in the mood for fresh bagels. I slathered yours with cream cheese, just the way you like it.”

  He waits until I sit up and sets the tray down before taking a seat opposite. I salivate at the smell of pastry and he smirks as he passes me a bagel.

  “Eat.”

  His dominant side has been creeping back in over the last forty-eight hours. Now he’s getting stronger, I need to state a few home truths and establish some ground rules before we go any further.

  I finish the bagel, coffee and juice he sets before me. My breath catches when he leans forward and brushes the corner of my mouth.

  “Cream cheese,” he states, before he licks his thumb.

  Heat spikes through me. I watch hunger grow in his own eyes and I know our impasse is coming to an end. Once our meal is cleared away, he undresses and gets back into bed. I try to take my eyes off his body to focus on what I need to say.

  “We need to clear up a few things.”

  He nods. “Yes.”

  “The whole Q thing. It was a little more than just a film to you, wasn’t it?”

  Pain slashes across his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Maxwell and his friends were part of the group who bid for those types of films. I set the first one up as bait. Maxwell was the highest bidder of Q’s first production and every one after that. It gave me a kick to take his money and donate it to charity, while I knew I’d humiliate him eventually with the irony of what he was paying for.”

  My heart aches but I nod. “Okay, I understand how things rolled with Q and Lucky. I’m not really upset about that.”

  He breathes out. “Okay, but I still want to make it up to you. Will you let me?”

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  He nods again.

  I clear my throat and continue. “You and Elyse…Sully offering me a job, me working at Blackwood Tower, did you—?”

  “No. That was total coincidence. I didn’t orchestrate that. You started working at Blackwood before you came to me…to Q.”

  The knot inside me eases a touch. “And getting evicted from the motel? Did you have something to do with that?”

  His gaze drops and his jaw flexes once. “Yes. The moment you said yes to Q, I saw you as mine, in every way. I couldn’t have you living there. I needed to remove you from that vile place.”

  “What if I hadn’t come to you?”

  “I would have found a way. I’m not going to apologize for wanting you safe, Elyse. I will apologize for the way I did things. For not coming clean later, when I realized I didn’t want you to end up as collateral damage in the shit storm I created. What I did to you was wrong. So wrong. But…I was caught up in a decade long, twisted game. Reason had long ceased to matter.”

  I catch a glimpse of the mental anguish still riding him, and I touch his hand, trace it to the lines on his forearm. “Was this part of the game? Cutting yourself?”

  “For a while, yes. It got me the attention I needed. It got me into Adriana Nathanson’s office.”

  “God, Quinn.”

  He grabs hold of my hand, and stares deep into my eyes.

  “Forgive me, Elyse. I went into this with my eyes shut to everything else but getting my brand of justice for my mother. Even when I realized I wanted you to see me, maybe even save me, I still wasn’t prepared to stop.”

  “But I did see you. I knew who you were. What you were. I tried to convince myself it didn’t matter. But it did.”

  Bleakness flashes through his eyes. “It still matters, doesn’t it?”

  I hesitate. Then go with the truth. “Yes. You need help, Quinn. To help you get over losing your mother that way. But I want to be there for you while you get that help. Maybe I need help myself. I’m not without fault.”

  “No. God, you’re perfect.”

  “I’m not. You know what I was…what I did in Getty Falls?” I enquire tentatively.

  He nods. “I know everything. And you’re still perfect to me. God, I love you, Elyse. I was too twisted to recognize until it was far too late, until you saw nothing but the monster. But I do, baby. I love you. Inside and out, no matter what you’ve done. No matter what.”

  My heart shakes, threatens to fly, but I need to state more truths. “I hated you for being two people, but so was I. You signed up for Lucky, but I wanted you to like Elyse, maybe even love her. Having that opportunity taken away from me before it had a chance to grow into something, hurt, and I lashed out at you.”

  His head jerks downward, and a lock of vibrant hair falls over his forehead. I brush it back as he links his fingers through mine and stares in fascination at our fused palms. “Sending me away when the FBI rescued you cut me to shreds. The restraining order killed me.”

  “I’m sorry. The shock was just too much, you know? I think I filed it because although I wanted to hate you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, or missing you. It was my way of stopping myself from craving you.”

  “And do you, crave me?” he rasps.

  “I do,” I murmur.

  His eyes fire a blaze of silver blue. “Fuck, you don’t know what hearing that does to me.”

  “Good things, I hope.”

  “Seriously awesome things. I love you. I love you. Please forgive me. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please give me the chance?”

  “You talk a good game, Mr. Blackwood. Let me think on it for a minute.”

  We grin at each other for several heartbeats before he sobers. “I’m so glad Fionnella agreed to come find you for me.”

  “So am I. Is she…okay now that this is over?”

  He nods. “I think we’re both ready to put it behind us, however we can.”

  My heart turns over in anger and sorrow for the wrongs done to them.

  “I can’t stand the thought that they did that to you and your mother.”

  He looks at me solemnly for several beats. Then he nods. “Would you like me to have them killed?”

  I gasp. “Quinn. Please don’t joke about things like that.”

  He doesn’t reply. I look deeper into his eyes. And shiver. “Please tell me you were just joking?”

  He shrugs. “You’re distressed. Forget what I said.”

  I shake my head. “That’s…just on the off-chance you weren’t joking, I don’t want to have anyo
ne killed.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I repeat incredulously.

  He grabs me by the waist and pulls me beneath him. The breath is knocked out of me and when I take a deep breath, his gaze drops to my boobs. Then with monumental effort he drags it back up. “Okay.”

  He stares at me for a long while. “I love you. Fuck, I never thought I’d say those words. To anyone again besides Mama.”

  Tears fill my eyes. He brushes them away and drops a light kiss on my nose.

  “Let’s talk about us some more. I still have a lot of making up to do.”

  “Okay. I think you should know, I’m not accepting that five million.”

  He grimaces and rises off the bed. He paces agitatedly for a minute before he stares at me. “I really want you to take it, Elyse.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t take back some of the things I did. But this would help. Give it to Petra, or give it to your favorite charity if you want. But take it.”

  “If it means that much to you—”

  “It does.”

  “Then okay, it goes to Petra. What next?”

  He eyes me from head to toe. “I’m obsessed with you. Have I told you that?”

  “Not in so many words.” My eyes drift to the TV screen. “But I have a fair idea.” I smile.

  He smiles back. My insides melt. “I intend to fuel that obsession. Night and day for a very long time. Do you have any objections to maybe considering making this thing between us permanent? Maybe after I get a proper therapist to sort out my…” he indicates his head.

  My smile widens until I’m scared my face will burst. “Hmm, definitely maybe.”

  He exhales. “Okay, do you have any more objections I need to deal with?”

  “Not an objection. More like a condition.”

  “Which is?”

  “Am I allowed to be equally as obsessed with you?”

  His smile widens by a mile. “Fuck yes.”

  I laugh. My gaze tracks over his hard, beautiful body. “Quinn?”

  “Hmm?”

  I sit up, tug my T-shirt over my head and lie back against the pillows. “I love you.”

  His breath explodes out of him, but his eyes don’t stay on mine for long. They drop to my breasts and I almost see him salivate. “I love you, too,” he croaks.

  “Quinn?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you going to stay all the way over there all day?”

  A ragged groan erupts from his throat as his wild eyes light brush fires all over my body.

  “It’s been three months, firecracker. I’m dying to fuck you. But I also want to prolong the agony, deserve you properly. So I’m going to just stay right here for the next hour, and fuck you with my eyes. Think you can handle that?”

  No. I can’t. And from the hard on he’s sporting I don’t think he can either. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  An arrogant brow arches. “Is that a dare?”

  I cup my breasts and just smile. He groans, and starts moving toward me. At the last moment, he veers to the bedside table. “I have something for you.”

  “Oh?”

  He brings out a red velvet box, hands it to me. I open it to see a delicate platinum chain, on which hangs a pink teardrop diamond.

  “What’s this?”

  He grins. My heart lurches. I swear I’ll never get used to a smiling Quinn Blackwood. “The diamond I promised your pussy.”

  I can’t help it. I laugh. I pluck the chain off its bed, rise to my knees and hold it out to him. “Do you want to do the honors?”

  His gorgeous eyes light up. “You sure?”

  I nod, because there’s only one answer I can give. “Your body, your pussy.”

  His whole body shudders. “My heart?”

  “Your heart.”

  He gets on the bed, crawls closer. “Say it all together. I want to hear it together, Elyse.”

  “Your body. Your pussy. Your heart. Your soul. Your love.”

  We don’t last an hour. Of course we don’t. We were insane to even attempt to try.

  The moment he secures the chain around my waist and the pink diamond drops perfectly into place above my clit, he grabs my hips and drags me beneath his body. Our reunion kiss is the stuff of dreams. He kisses me until my lips are bruised and my heart screams with joy.

  Then Quinn brings Q to the game. The two men I adore love me to within an inch of my life.

  And as I’m thrust to the edge of the precipice, the most stunningly beautiful eyes in the world pierce mine.

  “God, I love you, Elyse.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Always?” My alpha demands.

  “I belong to you, Quinn. Always.”

  His eyes gleam with unshed tears. “Thank you for taking a chance on me, my sweet firecracker. With everything that I am, everything I hope to be for you… for us…thank you.”

  THE END

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  My thanks to the usual suspects who make this writing journey a heady ride: my Minx Sisters, you know who you are. To Kate, my friend and editor. Here we are again, another day, another story! To all the bloggers, reviewers, Goodreads readers, FB Groups, Tweeters and Insta followers who selflessly share my stories, I love you all hard. Thank you for all you do.

  Finally, to my husband and kids. Thank you from bottom of my heart for every single moment of love and support you lavish my way, and for your enthusiasm for what I do. I couldn’t do this without you.

  Much love,

  Zara

  xo

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Zara Cox has been writing for almost twenty-five years but it wasn't until nine years ago that she decided to share her love of writing sexy, gritty stories with anyone outside her close family (the over 18s anyway!). The Indigo Lounge Series is Zara's next step in her erotic romance-writing journey and she would love to hear your thoughts. Visit her @

  WEBSITE | FACEBOOK PAGE | TWITTER | GOODREADS | STREET TEAM | TSU or JOIN HER NEWSLETTER

  OTHER BOOKS BY ZARA COX

  HIGH (The Indigo Lounge Series #1

  HIGHER (The Indigo Lounge Series) #2

  SPIN (An Indigo Lounge Novella)

  SPIRAL (The Indigo Lounge Series) #3

  SOAR (The Indigo Lounge Series) #4

  FREEFALL (The Indigo Lounge Series) #5

  WRECKLESS

  COMING SOON IN THE

  BRAND NEW “I” SERIES

  I, BLACK SHEEP - MAY 2016

  “I” SERIES NOVELLA (UNTITLED) - AUGUST 2016

  I, BLACK WIDOW - OCTOBER 2016

  I, FIRST DAUGHTER - RELEASE DATE TO COME

  EXCERPT FROM HIGH (INDIGO LOUNGE BOOK 1)

  Zachary Savage looked up from the papers he was perusing and watched three men enter the Executive Guest Suite.

  From his position behind the glass wall of the mezzanine floor office he’d commandeered from his assistant, he tracked them with narrow-eyed attention.

  The lead member of the rock band Friday’s Child was immediately recognizable. Back in what felt like another life, Zachary had attended a couple of their gigs. But that was before everything had gone to hell.

  As usual, any thoughts of how his life had changed over the past six years made his jaw clench with anger and sorrow.

  If he’d known that this stopover would clash with one of his Indigo Lounge flights, he’d have made other arrangements and placed himself very far away from harsh reminders of the past.

  What the hell, he was here now.

  That he normally did the guest vetting from the comfort of his San Francisco home office, was neither here nor there. The stopover from London to refuel his jet was taking longer than expected. Working while he waited helped contain the restlessness that continued to prowl inside him.

  He tried to get his brain back to work mode. So far he’d gone through the info on all the passengers boarding his plane except one.

  As far as he’d been able to determin
e, the band members were clean. No evidence of drug use or excessive drinking. The other six parties travelling on this Indigo Lounge experience had been equally vetted. He tracked the band members to the front desk, watched them flirt with the receptionist.

  Boredom escalating, his gaze returned to his papers. There was only one unknown quantity.

  Bethany Green. The wild card.

  Her invitation had been issued late, but so far the preliminary background check was clean.

  He was about to flip over to the photograph page when a flash of yellow caught his attention.

  She stood framed in the doorway of his building, two large weekenders clutched in her hand and an oversized purse slung over one shoulder.

  Long, dark hair spilled in rich waves around her bare shoulders and over her arms. Against the sunlit backdrop, Zach couldn’t immediately see her face but what he saw of her body made his breath catch as something flickered awake inside him.

  The way she held herself intrigued him; slightly unsure but poised on the threshold, as if talking herself into taking the next step. In his world, women reveled in being ball-breakers, strove to show no weakness in his presence in hopes of impressing him.

  Seeing a woman who recognized her vulnerability and struggled to own it was oddly captivating. He stood and walked to the window, surprised by how much he wanted to see this woman.

  The wind caught and flattened her short dress against long, sexy bare legs, legs that seemed to go on forever before they curved to embrace rounded hips and a firm, flat stomach.

  Zach’s cock jerked, stunning the hell out of him with a hunger his jaded existence hadn’t allowed him in a very long time. When his gaze reached her breasts, he let out a growl and realized his fingers were braced against the glass, his head almost touching it as he strained to see her face.

  But she remained in shadow, poised on the threshold of the building, undecided whether to step in or bolt.

  Come in.

  He realized he’d whispered the words and froze, a touch of confusion making him frown. As he watched, her head cocked to the side, one hand lifting to brush her long, luxurious hair off her face. And still he couldn’t see her.