Anaconda: A Sexy Romantic Comedy

by Landish, Lauren

  My toes curl, and I can feel the inferno building, ready to unleash. I’m quivering, a violin string that’s this close to breaking if he strokes me one more time. And then he does. I cry out, my body uncurling as I come hard, my pussy juice gushing into his hungry mouth as I thrash. His powerful hands hold me against him, his hands clamped on my ass and not letting me move as he takes every drop until I’m limp on the blanket.

  When I can breathe again, Gavin’s looking at me with gleaming eyes, his grinning face literally dripping with my juices. “So fucking sweet.”

  His words re-energize my body, and I squirm around to my belly, crawling toward him. “My turn. You didn’t let me last time.”

  I cup his pants, feeling the thick bulge running down his right pants leg, and for a moment, I’m shocked at what I’m thinking of doing, but that same voice that told me I need him tells me that I need to do this now. Gavin looks at me with lust in his eyes as I undo his belt and unzip his jeans, pulling his underpants down enough to free his massive cock.

  He’s huge. Even the head looks like a mouthful, and I look up at Gavin. He smiles and reaches down, stroking my hair again and reassuring me. “Open wide.”

  I start slowly, licking just the velvety soft tip, and he moans. His moans continue as I lick and kiss his shaft, tonguing his balls before licking all the way up to the tip and opening my mouth, sliding his tip into my mouth and sucking it like a lollipop with quick, slurping sucks that have him moaning deeply. I let him in deeper, swallowing him until my jaw aches and I can barely breathe. Gavin’s eyes go wide as I start bobbing my head up and down his shaft, licking and sucking him hungrily. His cock tastes so manly, and I’m drooling as I take him as deep as I can.

  With each stroke of his cock into my mouth, I try to swallow just a little bit more. It’s going to be difficult, but I’m determined to make sure Gavin Adams never forgets me or this town.

  Gavin’s hands don’t force me, but he brushes my hair out of my face as I plunge my mouth down on his cock, feeling him push past my gag reflex and into my throat. I swallow him, massaging him until he groans deeply and black fireworks explode in front of my eyes. I pull back, sweet oxygen flooding my lungs as I look up at him in triumph.

  Gavin nods, and his hands tighten around my head as he holds me still and starts fucking my face. He groans as he thrusts, his balls slapping up against my chin. He speeds up, and I’m starting to gag, but I force myself to relax more, feeling my throat and tongue massage his cock.

  I reach around, my fingers digging into his ass cheeks as he thrusts into my mouth, and he groans. “Fuck, Bri . . . I’m going to come . . .”

  The first blast of his release is so deep that I just feel it rocket down my throat. He starts to pull back, my mouth clamped around his shaft while he fills my mouth with his cream.

  When he’s done, I tuck his cock back into his underpants before looking up and swallowing the last of his come, wiping the last bit off my chin and sucking my finger clean for him.

  He smiles at me as I finally manage to gulp it down, asking jokingly, “did you enjoy your snack?”

  I nod, making a face at the aftertaste. Sweet and tangy. “I sure did.”

  Chapter 16

  Gavin

  I plop down in my chair, sighing to myself as I look at the glass of brandy in my hand. I really shouldn’t be drinking, but I can’t help it. I feel like shit.

  What the fuck are you doing? I think to myself as I brood over my date with Brianna. You’re leaving in just a few more days. You know that after this, you’re going to be so exhausted for the next eight months that you’ll barely be able to email, let alone come see her.

  But you’re screwing her again.

  Worse, the way you talked to her . . . you’re only going to hurt her.

  That’s why I’m holding the brandy in my hand. It was after we’d had sex and she’d gotten dressed. I offered to take her back to her apartment, figuring that after what we’ve been through, she would like to have a shower and get her things from the hotel later.

  Instead, she insisted that she had to get some things from her locker and that it would be more convenient for her if I just took her there. Normally, I wouldn’t have batted an eye, but there was something in the way she said it, like she wasn’t really telling me the truth.

  The fact is, I’ve been more honest with Brianna than I have been with almost any woman. Nobody else has heard about the way my mother is pressuring me, and I know for damn sure that I’ve told no one else that I sometimes feel like a failure. There’s something about her that makes me open like a book.

  But for her to be holding back from me, it bothers me.

  I sigh and take a sip. This needs to stop. I know it’s going to hurt, but the longer I let this go, the more problems there are going to be. I need to tell her that this has to stop.

  You can’t do that. Admit it, you’re starting to need her.

  I take another swig, wincing as the fiery alcohol burns its way down my throat. Sadly, my inner voice might be right. Just thinking about telling her that I won’t see her again feels like a knife in my gut. It’s all my fault though. I’m the one who let it get this far. I should’ve stuck to my plan of just one night.

  Instead, I let her get inside. I feel weak.

  Thoughts of her soft body, the way she kissed me, and the way her juices tasted flood my mind, making my cock hard as a rock.

  It’s not something I can easily forget. Nor do I want to.

  But she’s hiding something from me. Frustrated, I throw back the rest of my glass and look at the bottle. It’s half-full, but I shouldn’t drink any more. I’m feeling tipsy as fuck, and now that I can’t think straight, maybe I can finally get some sleep.

  * * *

  The blaring of the room phone startles me awake, sunlight stabbing daggers into my eyes and making me wince. I groan, grabbing my pounding head, the blood vessels in my temple feeling like they’re going to burst. Fuck, I feel like shit. Drinking normally isn’t my forte, so it’s my fault I have a brutal hangover. I knew I shouldn’t have drunk that much, but I did it anyway.

  I’m tempted to just knock the phone to the floor and tell whoever is on the other end to go to hell, but I don’t. Instead, I pick up the handset, wishing I had about a two-pound aspirin to take care of this headache. “Hello?”

  “Hey.” It’s Miranda.

  “Yeah?” I ask, my voice sounding slurred and groggy.

  “What’s going on?” she asks, sounding alarmed. “You sound like shit.”

  I clear my throat and try not to sound like a frog. “I just woke up.”

  “Hmm,” she says, obviously not convinced. “Well, I’ve got some good news, but it’s gonna cost you. The love scene has been delayed, but that means that you have to be down here in front of the fire station in town in thirty minutes.”

  “Huh? What for?” I ask, gritting my teeth at the pounding in my temple.

  “It’s part of the deal,” Miranda says. “We need to do some publicity for the movie. Jim said he needs a few frames for the trailer and some stuff for the movie poster.”

  I hold back a groan, trying to process what she’s saying.

  There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. I bet Miranda is nervous as fuck right now. “Can I count on you, Gavin?”

  I rub my eyes and glance at the clock. I don’t want to go. But what other choice do I have? “Okay, I’ll be there,” I grudgingly tell her, hanging up the phone.

  I get up, get a quick rinse in the shower, and get dressed, my head pounding the entire time. I grab a pair of sunglasses and head down to the center of town, driving as fast as the speed limit will allow. Nineteen minutes later, I pull in front of the fire station, dry chewing a couple of Excedrin.

  As I head to the front of the fire station, I see Miranda standing there with a photographer and a couple of women.

  “What’s this?” I ask. “I thought you said he needed stuff for the trailer.”

&nbs
p; “Thank goodness you’re here!” Miranda says. She’s smiling, and I swear she’s got a look in her eyes that’s already beginning to worry me. “You couldn’t have come at a better time. The camera man just finished setting up. Kay, come over here.” She motions one of the chicks over to me, a pretty blonde with big tits.

  “Wait, hold up,” I say, backing up, barely sparing the girl a glance. “What am I doing?”

  Miranda’s scowl could kill. “What do you mean? I already told you over the phone. A photo op for the movie. You know, the movie you signed a contract to act in?”

  I cross my arms over my chest. I hate it, but I just need to get it over with. “Okay,” I say flatly. “What do you want me to do?”

  Miranda looks at me like I’m an imbecile. “Take off your shirt and just stand there.”

  Holding back a terse reply, I do as she asks, my head pounding like a war drum. One of the cameramen scrambles over to get my shirt when I have it off.

  “Take the glasses off, please,” Miranda commands next.

  Another sharp stab between my eyes. “Really?”

  Miranda shrugs. “Just in case.”

  I sigh and take my glasses off, stuffing them in my back pocket. It’s right then that my headache increases almost one hundred-fold, and I wince at the blistering sunlight.

  “Good, now Kay, Alana, get on either side of him,” she orders the two models.

  For the next half hour, I’m forced to pose in various poses with the models. It’s all professional, and I make sure to keep my eyes in safe places and to avoid intimate contact.

  By the time it’s over, my head feels like it’s filled with shards of glass whirling around in my brain and I can hardly stand.

  “Thank you so much, Gavin,” Miranda says as I’m putting my shirt back on, patting me on the back. “I know you really didn't want to do this, so I appreciate it.”

  I open my mouth to say something smart, but then I realize this is one of the few times she’s actually being nice. “You owe me,” is all I say, nodding goodbye to the models and walking to my car.

  “Can you believe this guy?” I hear Miranda complain behind me to one of the girls, “I get him a movie deal, he can’t even say his lines right, and I owe him?”

  I take that back. She wasn’t being nice. More like she hadn’t gotten to mean yet.

  * * *

  Finally, after the day of shooting, my mind is only on one thing as I return to the hotel. Brianna. I want to go see her. Do something. But I feel like she’s only going to deepen my problems.

  Back in my room, I lie on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. It doesn’t feel right, lying here. Not when I want her beside me.

  I roll out of bed and head to the kitchen area, where I see the half-full bottle of brandy that I had last night. I’m about to grab it and pour it out when I hear a knock at the door.

  Brianna. Must be.

  I put the bottle back down on the counter and walk over to the door.

  “Hello . . .” I start to say as I swing the door open wide with a large grin on my face. But instead of my innocent little bunny, it’s Leslie Hart standing there with an answering grin.

  “Leslie, what are you doing here?” I ask. I don’t want to be a dick, but I feel like slamming the door in her face. There’s only one person I want to see right now, and it sure as fuck isn’t Leslie Hart.

  Instead of answering me, Leslie steps into my room, that smile that’s lit up dozens of magazine covers still on her face.

  “Hello, Gavin,” she greets sweetly.

  I try to keep a polite tone of voice since I’ve pissed off enough people lately. “I’m not really looking for visitors right now.”

  “Don’t worry, I only came here for a minute,” she says. “It’s kind of important.”

  Keeping a lid on my frustration, I close the door and gesture at the couch. “Go ahead.”

  Leslie crosses the room and sits down. She’s dressed more casually than I expect her to be, like a normal person and not a Hollywood starlet. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea, so I sit across from her in the leather chair, leaning back, my legs splayed out wide as if I own the room. “So what’s on your mind?”

  She looks at me with eyes that are a lot more perceptive than what she uses on set. It’s like she’s studying me, trying to get me to reveal something. But I don’t have the time or the patience right now to figure it out. “Well?”

  Leslie’s smile comes back, but it’s more real and less forced. For a second, I wonder if I’m seeing the real Leslie Hart for the first time. “I’m worried about you,” she admits finally.

  You and everyone else.

  “And I don't want whatever this is to continue. This problem you’re having. It affects all of us,” she says, her face morphing into a mask of concern.

  “I don't have a problem.” The lie sounds hollow on my lips even as it leaves my mouth.

  Leslie purses her lips thoughtfully before asking, “You sure about that? Everyone’s noticed, and everyone’s talking about it.” She leans forward in her chair, her eyes flashing. “Is it personal?”

  “My personal life is just that,” I say flatly. “I haven’t asked about yours, and I expect the same courtesy.”

  Leslie slowly sits back in her seat and nods. “I accept that. But here’s the thing. Whatever you’ve got going on in your personal life is affecting business.” She fiddles nervously with her shirt before letting out a sigh. “What I’m trying to say is that I want this movie to succeed. And that can’t happen with you being distracted like this. There’s already a shitload of negative press about another cookie-cutter female lead action movie.” Leslie rolls her eyes. “And I want to be able to prove them wrong. But with the way things are headed, we’re looking at a path that’s straight to the DVD bargain bin.”

  I open my lips to say a sharp retort, but then I close them. She does have a point. I’m fucking things up for her and everybody else. And as much as I want to be able to say otherwise, there’s no denying it.

  Finally, I give her a grudging nod. “Fine. I’ll admit it. I’ve been having a personal issue. But I'm gonna deal with it. We’re going to shoot this movie and it’s going to do great,” I say firmly, making sure she knows that this matter is settled.

  Leslie’s frown splits into a grin and she relaxes. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

  I put on a fraudulent grin and rise to my feet, signaling that our meeting is over. It’s not that seeing this real Leslie isn’t interesting, but my mind is on one person only.

  “Point taken,” she says as she rises to her feet. I lead her to the door.

  “See you at filming,” I say in parting, holding open the door for her.

  She nods, but before I can close the door, she stops and turns. “Gavin?”

  I arch an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  The mask of concern returns and Leslie asks, “Listen, are you sure that you’re okay? Anything you need?”

  I shake my head. “I’ll be fine. It’s one of those problems you sort of have to work out on your own.”

  Relief spreads across her face as she says in a soft, warm voice, “Thank you.”

  “For what?” I ask, surprised.

  She gestures between us. “For being a gentleman. This conversation was a lot easier than I thought it would be. Honestly, I thought you’d be an asshole. Glad I’m not the only one who’s misunderstood.”

  I shake my head, knowing what she means. Being a celebrity is one thing we share in common. “And thanks for being a sport and dealing with my bullshit. Don’t worry. I’ll get it sorted.”

  Leslie smiles and gives me a quick, friendly hug and a peck on the cheek before she turns and walks off down the corridor.

  Chapter 17

  Brianna

  It’s late. Afternoon shift. One of the most tiring simply because of the time of day that I start work.

  Sighing with relief, I clock out and head toward the elevators, glad that the day’s over. My body
is practically screaming with anticipation. I need to see him. I’ve been waiting anxiously all day.

  I don’t know if he’s going to be there, with his shooting schedule so out of whack, but my heart is pounding like a drum. And I can barely stand still as I wait for the elevator doors to open.

  I can’t count how many times I resisted the urge to send him a flirty little text. The only thing that kept me from doing it was that I didn’t want to interrupt him on set. And I don’t want to be perceived as a nuisance.

  It was hard, keeping a lid on my urges. The only thing I could think about was his big dick in my mouth and the powerful sensation of blood pumping through it. He enjoyed taking me to my limits. I could see it in his eyes. There’s something about the whole experience, though, that felt like it was more than sex.

  Ding. I enter the elevator and begin straightening my clothes when the door closes. I hope Gavin doesn’t mind that I’m not in my uniform. I have on a raggedy outfit that I brought to change into after my shift.

  Of course, he may not even be there, in which case I’ll leave him a note. A naughty grin plays across my face. I think I might leave him a little surprise as well.

  Well, fuck. He’s turning me into a bad girl already.

  I’m still wearing my grin when I step out of the elevator and turn right toward his room. But it quickly fades when I see what’s up ahead in Gavin’s doorway.

  Long, sexy legs. Beautiful blonde tresses, all over Gavin, giving him a kiss on the cheek as if he just showed her a great time. My blood is boiling so hot, it takes a moment to recognize Leslie Hart. I’m so shocked I’m frozen like a statue. I’m not even sure I’m breathing.

  But before Leslie can spot me, I dart around the corner, my heart pounding like a hammer.

  I lean against the wall, my chest heaving as I suck in deep, ragged breaths.

  I knew it! a voice screams in my head. It’s a battle to keep the tears at bay. I clench my hands into fists and bite my lower lip hard enough to draw blood. That asshole was just playing me from the beginning.