Bright Lights Billionaire Box Set: A Sexy Bad Boy Movie Star Series (Box Set Extravaganza Book 1)

by Ali Parker

  "We were married when I was younger. It was before I became your agent." She took a deep breath. "I really don't want to talk about this. It's still painful after ten years."

  "Okay. So have Frank call the asshole and get the girl at the second audition. I'm telling you guys that she's the one. Hell, put her first up and we won't have to waste our time." I pushed my plate away and glanced between the two of them.

  "Unfortunately, all of the candidates get to try out. That's part of the deal." Frank gave me an apologetic look.

  "You guys seriously pimped me out to make out with ten girls just to get the ratings on the film higher than ever?" I shook my head and tried hard not to overreact. "All right. Fuck it. Let me see the list of who you've narrowed it down to."

  "We haven't yet. It's going to take a few days. The tryouts are going to be through Tuesday night, and then we'll make calls Wednesday morning, and those that can make it here by then... great." Deza lifted her hand in the air and asked for the bill.

  "How many people have applied?" I crossed my arms over my chest as my ego reared its ugly head. That their number was going to make me feel like shit or like a million bucks was disturbing.

  "Almost four hundred thousand." Deza glanced at Frank. "We'll be working with about twenty other people non-stop to weed through them. I'd rather make out with the ten at the end than do this shit."

  "I'd have to agree with that, but then again, I'm a little jealous that hot shot over here gets to make out with anyone and I don't." Frank laughed as I tried to swallow the startling fact that there were that many women in the world that wanted to lay beneath me and have my hands all over them - fake or not.

  But that wasn't the case at all. A handful might want that, but most of them were after the same thing every woman in my past had been after.

  Fame and money.

  I was just a means to get them there.

  The tool of choice.

  Chapter 5

  Riley

  I never made it to bed the night before, but crashed on the couch instead. After getting the crick out of my back, I walked to the kitchen and yawned so hard I thought my jaw might pop out of socket.

  "Damn," I mumbled and rubbed my face.

  The front door opened behind me and Charlotte walked in, looking about how I felt.

  "Hey," she mumbled and closed the door before dropping her purse and kicking off her shoes. "What a waste of getting undressed."

  "Oh yeah? That bad?" I popped the top on the coffee and worked to get it brewing so I could properly wake up.

  "He's gotten worse. I swear he stuck it in and came." She rolled her shoulders as she moved up beside me. "I know I'm good in bed, but come on. Really?"

  "At least you had sex." I moved to the counter next to me and pulled two coffee mugs out. "I think it's been three months for me."

  "This wasn't the kind of sex that anyone would miss. I promise." She walked to the fridge and got out the creamer. "I saw you dancing with Jace. He didn't talk you into a quickie in the back room?"

  "He tried, but I made the mistake of turning my head." I laughed, not really feeling any loss over not having woken up in Jace's bed. He was a playboy who collected panties as trophies. If he wasn't an old friend and such a good lay, I'd never look his way again. But consequently, he was both.

  "Oh no. He took some other girl home?" She pulled out eggs and bacon. "You want me to make something for us to eat?"

  "I'd love for you to, and yeah, he took home some girl that he'd never fit his dick in. Rest assured." I walked to the breakfast bar and sat down, yawning loudly again.

  "You have the ugliest yawn I've ever seen." She stared at me like I'd sprouted another head.

  "Thanks a lot, Char. You always make me feel so good about myself." I slid my hands over the tabletop and rested my chin against it. "I needed to get laid, but it's getting old."

  "What is?" She poured a cup of coffee and set it down in front of me before handing me the creamer.

  "One night stands." I fixed my coffee to resemble something more like a dessert as she started on breakfast.

  "Really? I thought you didn't want a relationship because of the commitment and shit." She looked over her shoulder at me. "You changing your mind?"

  "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just tired of going to the bar in hopes of finding a good guy like Jeff, but realizing that in the bedroom he's a total dud."

  "Poor Jeff. He is a great guy." She cracked an egg and turned. "You want eggs?"

  "Yeah." I took a quick sip of my coffee. "Jeff is a great guy. You guys would be so good together. Maybe it's not about sex."

  "Right." She chuckled. "Then you date him. I don't need a best friend. I have you."

  "Yeah, and I'm not fucking you." I got up and walked into the kitchen, consigning myself to helping her cook, though I hated to.

  "You don't have the right tools anyway." She glanced over at me. "Why not date that cute guy on campus that you were talking to awhile back. That teacher's assistant guy."

  "He was too intense. Every conversation turned into a five-year strategic planning session. No thanks. I don't know what I want to do on Monday, much less five years from now. I'm an art major. We don't use our left brains unless we're forced to." I pulled off a couple of strips of bacon and laid them in the pan.

  "You should have slept with him to see if the sex outweighed the type-A personality." She nudged me.

  "Naw... I don't think he was packing much." I shrugged. "I know, before you say anything... I know, I'm shallow. It's not about looks though. It's about having the type of body that makes me want to burn my panties and call in sick to the biggest opportunity to advance my career. I want a man capable of making that happen."

  "Good luck. I think we might have to switch our degrees and become mad scientists. We could create our own guy." She giggled. "What would he be like?"

  "We're not ten. I'm not having this conversation." I pulled a fork from the drawer next to me and pushed the bacon around.

  "We were having these conversations when we were ten already. Besides... Wait!"

  I almost dropped the fork as she screamed in delight. "Shit. What?"

  "I almost forgot..." She turned and smiled at me. "Guess what Jeff is doing now?"

  "What?" I went back to breathing again.

  "He's a cameraman at Eon Films. He can put in a good word. He knows the producer and the director on this next movie that Ethan is doing." She lifted her eyebrows as if waiting for some great reaction from me.

  "Great. I'm not going." I shrugged and turned back to the frying pan.

  "What? Yes you are. It's what we've been waiting for. You're getting the lines offline today and you're doing it." She turned to me and growled softly.

  "I already printed them. It's a love scene. I'm not doing it, and besides, you have to send in your picture, your portfolio and a voice recording of you moaning that line on the third page." I scoffed. "They don't want an actress. They want a set of tits to play sex object for the sweet and very giving Mr. Lewis."

  "Oh come on. You're being ridiculous." She walked into the living room. "Where are the lines?"

  "On the couch, and don't think just because I marked them up a little that I'm interested. I'm not." I tried to convince myself for the hundredth time that I wasn't going to do it. The first round was nothing more than a submission, but how many people were going to submit?

  Millions. Too many to really get noticed. When they said open audition, they really meant that you could submit your face and voice and if you were sexy enough Ethan would let you audition for a racy scene in the bedroom.

  "Whatever," I mumbled and pulled the bacon off onto a plate Charlotte had gotten ready for me while I was lost to thought.

  "Is this the line you have to record?" She laughed and moved up beside me. "I'm not sure I could get this out without laughing."

  I glanced over at it and snatched it from her hands. "Do the eggs for us. I jack them up every time, and yes... this
is the line."

  "Say it for me."

  "No." I walked back to the breakfast bar and picked up my coffee. "Why do they have to make women look like weak sex-hungry creatures in these movies? Ethan is man enough to keep the attention of the audience without having to dim his co-star. It's dumb."

  "Say the line." She glanced over her shoulder. "Use that sexy voice that got us into the club and got me a handful of limes last night."

  "You clean the bathroom and the kitchen and I'll do it." I looked up.

  "Just the kitchen. The bathroom is all you. That's your fucking mess." She picked up the plate of bacon and set it in front of me, which was never a good move.

  "All right. Kitchen is yours." I lifted the paper to my face and cleared my throat, slipping into character easily. The image of Ethan in an expensive, perfectly pressed suit in front of me popped up, making it much easier.

  "I think maybe you should consider other options, Mr. Bond. There are those of us who would be willing to help you out of your current situation by any means possible." I glanced up at Charlotte and nibbled at my bottom lip as I tilted my head a little. "I'm one of those people, but you knew that already, didn't you?"

  I dropped the paper and picked up a piece of bacon. "See? Ridiculous."

  "Oh my God. That was fucking awesome. Do it again." She moved toward me.

  "What? No. Go do the eggs and stop being silly. I'm not recording my voice and sending it in. And I'm sure as hell not sending in a picture of my face." I glanced down at the sheet, trying to ignore how tight my nipples were over the idea of having Ethan Lewis look at me with interest as I turned my bedroom charm on for him.

  She walked back to the stove without another word.

  I glanced up, a little concerned with her silence. She rarely let any argument between us die until she won, or I'd convinced her why she was ignorant.

  "What are you doing?" I asked before finishing my coffee.

  She glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. "Trying to figure out how to get you to do this. I really think you'll get in. I have no doubt, actually. It's this feeling inside of me. This is it."

  "No." I got up and walked into the kitchen, pulling two plates from the counter and helping her plate up everything.

  "What if I told you I would clean the whole house for a week if you tried out?" She sat down beside me and extended her hand as we'd been doing for years. If you didn't shake on a bet, it wasn't in effect. Plain and simple. We'd be doing the same thing when we were a hundred.

  "A month." I extended my hand.

  "Two weeks. Final offer." She shoved her hand closer to me. "This is it. I'm telling you as your best friend that you have to do this. I'll record it and we'll use that drop dead gorgeous picture you took last year for your portfolio."

  I pursed my lips and thought about the possibilities as well as the sharp pain that usually occurred deep inside of me each and every time Hollywood rejected me. Could I sustain another hit with all the other shit on my plate right now? No future. No home. No prospect for a job that I was going to enjoy.

  "Two weeks and two days." I shoved my hand forward as she clasped it and shook my hand firmly.

  "Good. After breakfast we're recording the audio and getting the packet together." She smiled and pulled her hand back.

  "When this blows up in my face, it's going to be you that has to go out and buy ten gallons of ice cream." I took a big bite of my eggs and groaned. "You need to make sure whoever you marry deserves your cooking by the way."

  "So he has to be a good guy, have a big dick and be funny." She lifted her eyebrow. "I think that's worthy of me and my cooking."

  "Me too, but you missed one very important thing." I got up and walked into the kitchen to get more coffee. I had to ignore the excitement bubbling up inside of me. Acting was like playing the lottery, though it wasn't a random number that they drew and hoped like hell fate would be kind to you. It was my resume, my skill and passion that I hope was plucked from the large pool of all the others with the same level of talent as I had.

  "He needs a brother that's a good guy, is funny and has a huge dick too."

  "Impossible. I quit." She laughed, and I joined her, grateful that she was a part of my life. I couldn't do it without her, or maybe I could, but I sure as hell wouldn't want to.

  Chapter 6

  Four Days Later

  Ethan

  "More." The sexy girl riding my cock glanced back at me and whimpered loudly.

  I gripped her ass as she sat reverse cowgirl and lifted my hips, pressing into her a little more. She barely had a third of me inside of her, and I was shaking with the need to impale her.

  "Take more then." I pulled her back as she groaned again and reached back, making me stop. The lack of movement was killing me. Fucking was starting to be the last thing on my mind. It never turned out the way I needed it to.

  The phone buzzed next to me as she panted and pushed back a little more.

  I moaned and let my head hit the pillow. "Just lift up and fuck the tip, baby. I gotta get to the studio."

  "No. I want more. I can do it. You're just really big." She pushed back and stopped again as her arms started to shake.

  I picked up my phone and barked into it. "What?"

  "Stop being a dick and get up here. You're up in an hour with our first audition and yet you're nowhere to be found. I know as well as you do that you didn't go over these lines." Deza sounded about as happy as I felt.

  "All right. Give me fifteen minutes. I'm in my trailer."

  "Out back?" She pulled the door open to the trailer and screamed into the phone, deafening me for a minute.

  The girl hovering above me scrambled for the covers and pulled off my cock, leaving me about as fulfilled as I was before finding her.

  "Was that your girlfriend?" She glared at me.

  "No. That was my agent. Get off of me. I have to go." I waited until she moved to get out of the bed, and pulled on my slacks. There was no concern with sporting a hard-on as my dick was dropping like a scalded puppy.

  "Ethan. I want to try again. I'm just not very-"

  "Experienced. I get it." I turned and offered her a smile, not feeling any bit of the kindness I was faking. "It's all good. I'll call you sometime when I get a break. We'll try again."

  "You promise?" She looked so good in my sheets, and yet this was goodbye. She couldn't match me in the bedroom, which wasn't at all a surprise. I grabbed a shirt and pulled it over my head, combed my hair and looked back at her.

  "I'll call." I grabbed my shoes and walked out of the trailer. The guard beside it glanced over and lifted his eyebrows. "Give her five minutes and kick her out. I don't want someone snooping through my shit."

  "Yes, sir." He opened the door, and I grabbed his shirt.

  "Five minutes. She's naked." I released him and growled before jogging toward the set.

  Deza turned from the snack table and shook her head. "Really? You have a house. What the fuck? Why do I always have to walk in and see that monster you're sporting?"

  "It's the curse of your good fortune?" I shrugged and dropped down in a random chair and pulled my shoes on.

  "You don't need those. The scene has you only in a pair of slacks." She popped some Skittles in her mouth. "You need a cup in case you get excited?"

  "No. I stopped getting excited about this a long time ago."

  "Not the scene, the women." She rolled her shoulders and lifted her hands in the air, stretching.

  "I'm not interested in them either." I finished putting my shoes on just to annoy her.

  She growled softly and tossed me a packet of peanut M&Ms. "Even Riley?"

  "Oh shit. Is she coming?" I stood up as my body tightened automatically. What was it with this girl? Hopefully she was a total sponge personality-wise, or I was in trouble.

  "Yes. She's third on the list. Come on, handsome. Let's get through these first few and then your princess will arrive." Deza laughed at me before reaching over to ruffle my h
air.

  I swatted her away and ruffled hers before jogging toward the set. It was funny how everyone in America thought I was a sex god of some sort. I hadn’t really had a good lay in months. I was just picking the wrong women. Virgins, prudes, girls with class. I needed a slut to take me the right way. She could fit me. I needed to call one of the women from my past. The girls that showed up for the night, did their job and left without a word or whimper.

  There goes the idea of Riley. That girl looks like a virgin librarian.

  My pulse increased as the idea of pressing her against a wall and sucking on the side of her neck rolled through me.

  "Hey... get your head in the game." Deza popped me in the chest, pulling me from my porn-fest with the poor girl who had no clue she'd been wedged into my overfilled life as a fantasy that wouldn't soon come to fruition.

  "Right. Sorry." I ran my fingers through my hair and picked up the lines from one of the guys sitting by the stage. I read through them four times before getting up on the set. The place was set up like the bedroom of a wealthy guy, and I was playing him. It wasn't my usual living room or hotel room scene, but looked more like a penthouse.

  "You got the lines down?" Frank walked up beside me and patted me on the back.

  I handed him the lines and unbuttoned my shirt, leaving the front of it open. "Yeah, you want to practice it with me?"

  He rolled his eyes. "Fuck you too. Get your shoes off."

  "What's with you guys and my shoes today?" I bent over and pulled them off, tossing them over at the guys who worked with props. They laughed and flipped me off as I stood up. I smiled like the dick I was and walked toward the edge of the set, clapping my hands. "Let's get this shit started."

  "Right. Don't scare these girls today, Ethan. We want good publicity from this. Remember that when you're up there with them. It's not a normal audition. Some of them-"

  "Hey... I'm good. I'm a human under here. I remember what it was like to be rejected and have to fight for this job. Wait, no I don't." I smirked as Deza swatted at me.