Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
My phone rang as I was placing money on my tab on the bar and I looked at the screen. “Hey, Courtney,” I greeted my agent as I walked out.
“Hey, Carson, love, you all set for Monday morning? I have the address of the shoot and some details. I’m gonna send them to your email. Can you pull it up on your phone?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll let you know when I get it.”
“Okay, good. It’s at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills. A balcony shoot, followed by a shower scene.”
I groaned. “Shit, Courtney, This’ll only be my fifth film, and already my second shower scene? I told you I hated the first one.”
“Oh please. Am I supposed to feel badly for you that you get to do Bambi Bennett in a shower? Poor thing.” I could hear the sarcasm dripping from her voice.
“Shit, it’s awkward—there are two cameramen and a mic in that tiny space. From where I’m standing, it’s not hot. Also, Bambi Bennett? Christ. Am I fucking a deer?”
“I know. It’s a stupid name. She’s new to the site. Look her up. She’s all kinds of gorgeous. Lucky you. Kisses! Text me when you get the info.” And with that she hung up.
Courtney owned the site I had recently signed a contract with—ArtLove.com. It was supposed to appeal mostly to women, the largest growing porn-watching demographic. Most of the shoots were in exotic locations and we were encouraged to look like we were really into each other—different than the wham, bam, thank you ma’am type of porn that men tended to like. The first shoot I had done was in Belize, in an outdoor shower, and despite what it might have seemed like to the viewer, I was just hoping I could stay hard through it. A film crew of sweaty dudes all up in your business wasn’t exactly a wet dream come true, no matter how gorgeous the girl was.
Apparently, though, after only a couple films, I had a small fan following. And so my agent had all but insisted I show up this weekend to make an appearance. I had stayed at the meet-and-greet bullshit for as long as I could stomach, and then I’d snuck out and run straight into Miss High-and-Mighty. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate my fans…but rather, I guess I tried not to think about my fans too much because let’s be honest, they admired me for reasons that made me think it was better that I not shake their hands.
I started toward the elevators that would take me up to my room where I could get ready for the pool. It was the easiest place to pick up a girl, one who didn’t care to know who I was or what I did—and the feeling would be mutual.
“Whoa, hold the elevator,” I called. I flashed my room key to the security guard standing at the front of the alcove as I jogged toward the elevator I’d spotted going up, doors just beginning to close.
The doors bounced back open as an old woman stuck her purse out, and I stepped inside. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome, honey,” the old woman said with a smile, both of us facing the closed door as the elevator began its ascent.
“The Lord is testing me,” I heard a quiet voice whisper under her breath. I glanced to my left and two people over to see who had muttered those words, and there stood Grace “White Wedding” Hamilton. Go figure. I chuckled softly to myself at her tight expression.
I leaned forward and grinned at her. I could tell that she saw me in her peripheral vision by the way her spine straightened, but she continued to stare straight ahead at the door in front of us. What a total brat.
The old woman standing next to Grace leaned around her and grinned back at me, waving a flirty, little wave. It was cute and so I laughed and waved back. Grace’s head swiveled to me and her eyes widened as we made eye contact, me still smiling. Then just as quickly, she turned to look straight ahead again, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.
The elevator stopped at several floors and began to empty out, and pretty soon, it was just me and Grace and the old woman. We all stood quietly, staring straight ahead.
At the next floor, the old woman moved to the front and Grace and I both automatically stepped backward to let her pass. As the old woman stepped through the open doors, she turned and winked at me and then shot Grace a wink too. When I looked over at Grace, her head was tilted, and she wore a small smile on her pretty, pink lips.
The doors slid closed and then she glanced at me, the smile morphing into a frown.