His Captive Mountain Virgin

by Madison Faye

  “The realer, the better.”

  I shiver.

  Inside the room, the guy in the leather jacket starts to wail on the dark haired man. Nico mutters something under his breath as he grabs ahold of the handle to the sliding door. But he stops and turns back to me, that sickly smile plastered across his face.

  "Thank fuck you saved that cherry, sweetheart. Because we're gonna film you losing it, with him."

  3

  Dylan

  "Why don't you come over and say hi, sweetheart?"

  Nico turns and beckons. Slowly, the girl — my co-star — breaks the lock her eyes have on mine. She falters, her face blushing a little as she looks away. The big goon behind her gives her a push forward, and my blood pressure suddenly spikes watching him put his fucking hand on her. The snarl curls on my lip, and my hands tighten to fists at my sides. But she steps forward, and when she looks up at me again, the fight goes out of me.

  One look from this angel, and I'm adrift, like I've never been before.

  She steps close, and Nico claps his hands together and rubs them.

  "Alright. Me and the boys are going to take off for a bit and let you kids get to know each other. You know, before you get to know each other."

  I could roll my eyes at Nico's shit sense of humor, but my eyes are way too busy drinking her in. She's fucking gorgeous. And so goddamn innocent looking. I mean, how the fuck is this girl doing porn? It's insane, and also kind of depressing. She's too pretty, and too innocent, and not in that fake porno schoolgirl way, I mean she's way past that.

  But maybe that’s why she does it. Maybe that’s why she's so good and why they've got me filming with her.

  Filming. Christ, I'm filming a fucking porn.

  I was broken in Afghanistan. We all were — me, Gray, and Roman. I've been putting the pieces back together ever since — well, trying to at least. But I think it's safe to say I've been failing at that. A debt to the mob, more blood on my hands, and now I'm shooting a fucking porn movie.

  My resume gets better by the day.

  Gray keeps telling me I should go back to law school and join him. He means well, but fuck, he works for the Moretti's too. Not necessarily out of pure choice, but still. And I wish I could say he's what got me here in the first place and into this fucking mess, but that's just an easy, bullshit excuse, and I know it.

  I'm here because of my own sins, and my own choices. I'm here, and however fucked up this situation is, it's not going away.

  Nico and Joey and their guys head out of the room, and the big metal door slides shut with a clang behind them. I turn back to the angel in front of me and clear my throat.

  "Hey, Dylan."

  She ignores my outstretched hand, looking away.

  "So, how long have you been doing this?"

  She says nothing, and unlike before when her eyes were locked on me from across the room, up close now that we're alone, those big baby blues are anywhere but me. Mine still take her in though, drinking in every damn detail — the soft skin, the pink, pouty lips, the chestnut hair that tumbles over her shoulder. The ripe, full tits that the dress she wears pushes up so fucking temptingly, and a tight little ass that gets my dick hard in seconds.

  She looks even younger up close — a lot younger, actually, but I guess that's probably part of her appeal as this kind of actress.

  "Been in anything I might've seen?"

  Her eyes close softly, and she slowly shakes her head side to side.

  I frown. The fuck is going on here?

  I don't like this anymore than she does, but I could also do without the attitude. I'm betting she wants to waste her time shooting something with a guy who's not even in the industry about as much as I want to shoot something at all, but the sooner we get over that shit and just get through this, the sooner I can get out from under all of this.

  "Look," I growl, stepping closer to her. "I know I'm the new guy here, and that you're a professional, and you're probably pissed that you have to do this with me. But it's not like I'm into it either, alright? So how about we help each other out, okay?"

  The girl bites her lip, still avoiding my eyes and looking away.

  I change tactics. Humor always diffuses shit.

  "And hey, I know I'm the new guy, but trust me, he's not gonna disappoint." I grin, reaching down and grabbing my cock through my jeans in this big animated way that I hope gets her to loosen up the ice queen act. I mean, shit, the girl is a professional after all. If she can see that I'm not a scumbag and that I'm going to do my best to make her look good, maybe she'll drop those walls.

  "I mean, with a knockout like you?" I whistle cartoonishly. "Zero problems staying hard, I promise."

  The wall doesn’t drop. The ice doesn't crack. Actually, the more I talk, the more she seems to shut off, to the point where she's now physically closing in on herself.

  …Something's not right here.

  But suddenly, the door slams open, and Nico barges in, along with a small guy with a camera and a tripod.

  "Alright, we're doing a test shoot," Nico announces. "Spielberg over here is gonna take some practice reels of you two. So, sweetheart," Nico grins at the girl. "How about you get on those knees and suck him, alright?"

  Her face pales, her eyes going wide as the color drains from her skin.

  "W-what?" she breathes. Her voice is so soft, and so fragile, and a part of me clenches tight at the way she looks so scared.

  And I hate this. She's too pure, and Nico’s being so fucking crude about this. And I know she's a goddamn porn star, and that the innocent thing is just her "look," but still. There's something about her that makes me want to protect her. To save her. It's my constant problem, wanting to save the unsaveable. I mean this chick's a porn girl — she probably got all sorts of shit that needs fixing but can’t be.

  But, I don’t want him here, or anyone, really. I am going to do this, and fuck if just being near her doesn’t make my cock rock hard. But if I'm going to take her, for some reason, I want it to be just the two of us. I want just her, no other bullshit. No other man seeing her like that. It's a fucking ridiculous thought, since she literally fucks on camera for a living, but it's how I feel.

  She freezes up though, and when Nico steps towards her, she trembles.

  Something is very fucking wrong here.

  "C'mon, sweetheart. Take it out and suck his fuckin dick."

  "Chill," I growl, my eyes narrowing at him. Something about the way she's so shut up tight and the way her body language screams terror has my hackles rising, and Nico getting closer to her is only making it worse.

  "Shut up," he snaps at me before turning back to her. "On your fuckin' knees, baby."

  "Cool it," I hiss.

  But Nico ignores me this time, and before I know it, she's gasping in horror as he grabs her and shoves her to her knees in front of me,

  "That's enough," I roar. I take a step towards him with my hand closing into a fist when suddenly, his gun is out and leveled right at my chest.

  "Step it back freak show," he hisses, eyes narrowing at me. "We up and running?" he mutters over his shoulder at the camera guy, who nods.

  "Yep."

  "Good." His eyes dart between me and the girl, still kneeling on the floor and trembling. "I'll give you lovebirds some fuckin privacy, but the camera stays. Remember, this is just test footage stuff, but make it good, alright?" He jabs a finger down at her. "Do it," he snaps, before he and the camera guy turn and head out of the room.

  The door shuts with a bang, and I exhale.

  "Kind of a prick, isn't he?" I mutter. "Look, I'm sorry it's my first time in all this shit. I—"

  The girl sobs, and something twists inside of me. Every instinct I have says something’s wrong here, but I can't put my finger on it. But I also know that as much as I hate doing what Nico says, if we don't do this, there's going to be a whole lot more going wrong.

  "I know, angel," I say softly. "He's a fucking asshole. Look we'll go quick
and just get it over—"

  She starts to cry. Big, wet tears roll down her soft cheeks, and something breaks inside of me.

  "I'm—" Her voice hitches as she sobs, and my jaw tightens.

  "Look, we—"

  "I'm not a porn star, okay?!" She suddenly snaps, looking right up at me with those big blue eyes so full of fear and fury and fierceness. "I'm not a porn star," she says again, quieter this time as her shoulders slump and her eyes look right into mine.

  "I'm a virgin."

  Oh, fuck.

  4

  Rose

  Everything I've been holding back — all the rage and the emotions and the tears — all comes crashing out at once. The full weight of everything hits me like a truck, and before I can even stop myself, I'm collapsing.

  But suddenly, there's warmth. Suddenly, his big, powerful arms are surrounding me and pulling me close. And for some reason, I don't pull away. I don't fight, and I don't kick and scream. Instead, I tumble into him, and before I know it, my hands are clutching at him. He might be a total stranger, but then, he's a total stranger that's clearly not the same kind of guy as the rest of them. And even if I don't know what it really means, seeing them beating on him earlier tells me he's also not with them.

  It means he's as much a victim in this as I am, and maybe that's why his arms pulling me tight sends something warm through me.

  "I'm so sorry, angel," he says quietly. His voice is deep and comforting — a rich, masculine baritone that teases its way through my ears. His hand strokes my back, and there's no denying the heat that radiates through me at his touch.

  "I didn't know," he says evenly, pulling back to hold my gaze, his eyes so full of love and warmth. "Fuck, angel," he growls. "I thought—"

  "I know," I say quietly. My cheeks suddenly darker as I glance down at myself and the ridiculous stripper-dress and heels I've got on. "This…" I swallow. "They made me wear this."

  He shrugs and gestures down at his ripped black jeans and tight gray t-shirt. "This is unfortunately just my own bad fashion style."

  I laugh. Somehow, somehow in this horrible place and with this whole horrible thing hanging over me, he makes me laugh. He grins when he sees me relax, and I bite my lip as I look up into his insanely handsome face.

  I smile shyly. "So you're not…?"

  "A porn star?" He laughs. "Jesus, no. I can't act for shit."

  "I'm not sure how much acting is involved."

  "More than I'm capable of, that's for damn sure," he mutters.

  I shake my head, relaxing a little more. "I really thought you were."

  "Do I come off like a porn star?" he grins. "Shit, I should work on that."

  I laugh again. "No, no, not that. They just…they made it sound like you were. So why are you here?"

  "I—" He frowns. "There was a job, and it went wrong. When the dust settled, the Moretti's were down a lot of money, and the blame's on me now."

  "You…do you work for them?"

  "Not by choice, angel," he says quietly.

  His hand strokes up and down my arm, soothing me with his gentle touch. I'm also suddenly aware that I'm literally wrapped up in the arms of a staggeringly handsome, insanely gorgeous man, and it's suddenly a lot more than a soothing feeling that teases through me, as wrong as that might be

  "Why are they doing this to you?" he growls. "I know they're bad fucking people, but this?" His jaw clenches tight as he bares his teeth. I can feel the ripple of his muscles against me as he tenses, and I'd be lying if I said the feel of it didn't send a teasing thrill through me.

  "There's a debt," I say quietly. "It's not mine, but they say I have to pay it back. I guess this is how."

  "Fucking animals," he spits, his arms tightening on me.

  "I—" I shiver into him, "I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm so scared," I whisper hoarsely, my voice breaking. "I—"

  "I've got you, angel," he growls fiercely. His arms tighten around me, pulling me so close to him and totally enveloping me in his warmth. "I've got you, and they're not going to hurt you."

  "Yes they are," I whisper.

  "Angel—"

  There's suddenly a pounding on the door, making me gasp and clutch at him tight.

  "How we doing in there with the sucky suck!"

  He snarls, gently pulling away from me and standing. He storms over to the tripod, grabs it and the video camera attached to it and hurls it at the door.

  Swearing follows on the other side, and there's suddenly the jangle of keys.

  He swoops into me, pulling me into his arms and holding me tight before he pulls back. He cups my chin gently in his big, powerful hand, and lets those gorgeous eyes pierce right into mine.

  "They aren't going to hurt you, I swear it."

  The door unlocks behind him, and I can hear Nico swearing as it starts to creak open.

  "I'm going to protect you, angel," he whispers fiercely. "I'm going to protect you with everything I have."

  The door slams open and Nico charges into the room.

  "I'm Dylan," he says quietly, his eyes never leaving mine. "And I'm going to help you."

  "I'm Rose."

  "Nice to meet you, Rose."

  Nico and his guys reach us, and suddenly, they're yanking him away and dragging him from the room.

  5

  Dylan

  "Fuck, I'm sorry, man."

  Gray's edged voice growls through the phone. Yeah, I can have a phone. I also seem to be able to move pretty freely through the building a few blocks off The Strip that they've got me in. She's here too, actually, though I don't know where. I've got a feeling the three armed guys at the front door would have a thing or two to say about me leaving the building, but inside, I guess they're fine with me having my run of the place.

  But I haven't moved much from the room they dumped me in. I groan as sink back into the big chair by the window, holding an icepack to my face — a thank you from Nico for breaking his camera.

  Gray sighs. "Bringing you into this—"

  "Hey, I asked you to get me a job with these people," I mutter.

  "Well I should've told you to fuck off."

  "You were just trying to help, man. After we got back and I couldn't find anything."

  When Gray, Roman, and I got back from the Marines, we were all a little lost. Why Vegas? And why the fuck did all three of us end up working for the Moretti family? Well, it wasn’t hard, actually. Hell, the three of us grew up here and I'm actually the only one that didn't have direct connections to the family. Roman's cousin was an enforcer for the Moretti's, and that plus his size and his combat record got him a pretty lucrative job in Gino's personal security detail. Gray's father had also been a lawyer who found better pay working directly for the guys most of his colleagues were paid to try and prosecute. Gray himself had managed to finish up law school before the Marines, and when he got out, the family reached out to offer him the job his father had left with his death.

  But me? Well, I was just the fuck up, and when it was clear I had no real direction, I'd asked Gray to hook me up with the Moretti’s. To his credit, he had told me no — a few times actually. But what can I say, I'm a persistent guy, so here we all are. The three all-American marines, all working for the mob in Las-fucking-Vegas.

  Who'd have guessed?

  "Look, it's not the worst thing."

  Gray snorts. "It's porn, Dylan. And this isn't the seventies. That shit's going to be around forever."

  "Well I'll be sure to make sure they get my good side then."

  He chuckles darkly, when I suddenly hear something in the background.

  "I couldn't find a towel."

  The female voice is soft, and sultry, and I instantly grin.

  "Listen, dude, I can call back if you've got company."

  "Just the TV."

  Bullshit.

  For one, I know that Gray doesn't watch TV, and for two, for a lawyer, he's actually real shitty at lying. Of course, being the good friend I am, I know
it's my job to needle him about this.

  "Just the TV, huh? Sounds like a fun channel."

  He clears his throat uncomfortably, and I laugh.

  "Shit, Gray, if you're watching porn, give me a week and I'll get you something real fun to watch with yours truly."

  "I'd rather stare at the sun through a magnifying glass, actually."

  I grin, and I strain my ears to hear anything else from his apparently secret mystery guest, but it's quiet.

  "Look, whatever they've got me doing, it could be worse, right? It could be my head on a pike in the desert, dude. It was a lot of fucking money."

  "Yeah and it wasn't you."

  "Tell that to Gino," I mutter.

  "I have, trust me." He sighs. "I'm trying man, but they're just stuck on the whole thing with Vinny."

  "Vinny who was about to shoot me? Vinny who was definitely in on that job?"

  Gray growls into the phone. "It's your word against the death of a made guy. Fuck, man. You know I believe you. Hell, a lot of people do actually. But Nico was close with Vin, and you know he's got Gino's ear."

  We go silent for a minute or two before he clears his throat. "So, who's the girl?"

  My jaw clenches.

  "Excuse me?"

  "The girl. Your co-star." He chuckles. "Anyone famous?"

  "No," I spit out curtly. Curt enough that he definitely hears the heat in my voice.

  "What's going on, Dylan?"

  I scowl out the window at the neon lights of the strip. "Nothing," I mutter.

  "Dude—"

  "She shouldn't be a part of this," I hiss, my anger flashing hotly to the surface. "She doesn't belong anywhere near this."

  "Not an actress?"

  "Fuck no," I spit, my teeth clenched tight. "She's just a girl, and they've got something on her. Fuck, man, they're forcing her to do this."

  "Fucking Nico," Gray growls lowly. "Is she…"

  He's quiet for second.

  "Gray—"

  "Tell me she's legal," he says quietly.

  I freeze, frowning. "I mean, fuck, I think so? She's young, but she's definitely…" I trail off, my stomach sinking. "Jesus, Gray—"