I ran my hand up her spine, halting at the base of her neck to hold her close. I didn’t have to put too much pressure, just enough to make my needs known. I wanted Cate, needed her riding my cock, but I doubted that would happen.
Eventually, I pulled back and brushed her lips with the back of my knuckles. “You’re so beautiful.”
She bowed her head at the compliment, and I lifted her chin with my finger.
“I mean it.” The tattoo of her name burned on my chest as a reminder of the commitment I’d already made to this girl. I was all-in.
“Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.” She reached over and ruffled my hair.
We relaxed and laughed together as we fed each other strawberries. Side by side, we lay back on the blanket and talked some more while I stroked her arm. She nestled her head against my shoulder, and I told her more about growing up with a single mom in a trailer park. She talked about her dad and how much he meant to her. Her sisters sounded like bitches, and her mom was an even worse piece of shit.
It wasn’t until her phone pinged that we noticed how late it was. It was close to ten o’clock, and she said she had to meet a friend.
“What?” Bewildered, I poked her side and tried to make fun of the situation, even though jealousy burned a hole in my gut. “Who? A booty call?”
She turned an evil eye on me. “Don’t be rude.”
“I’m not. I guess, just jealous,” I nervously admitted.
“Well, it’s a friend who is a girl, and I promised to help her with something.”
“Who?”
“You don’t know her.”
What the fuck?
“Can you take me back now?” Cate ran her hands down her pants, straightening her clothes. “I had a great time, but this isn’t something I can back out of now.”
“Sure,” I said abruptly, not bothering to push my anger from my tone.
And when she turned away, for a second I thought I saw tears glistening in her eyes.
Catie
For a second or a few hours, I’d felt myself slipping into the warmth of Blane Steele, and then I wasn’t. Angry and frustrated, I stomped into the warehouse at eleven p.m. like a bitch in heat. My libido was up, my feelings low.
Frank looked hard and long at me. “What’s wrong, Ari?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure you’re good to go?” He stilled, watching me move toward a dressing table.
“I’m fucking fine, Frank.”
“Okay, short stuff.”
I flipped him off and tossed my tote on the counter. Then I dropped onto a seat in front of the mirror and stared at my reflection.
Jesus, I was a porn sensation. Me! Yeah, I loved dressing like a Jersey girl, but this was insane.
For the first time since I’d gotten myself tangled up in this cockeyed plan, reality hit me hard. It landed in my belly, a hard pit of satisfaction coated in regret. I was proving what I believed to be true, yet destroying the only good thing I’d ever had.
But I never really had Blane. Right?
Shit. Enough!
I tugged on my wig and checked my reflection as I tucked in stray wisps of my own hair. Then I ripped off my sweatshirt, leaving just my camisole. I snatched one of the skin-colored pieces of tape off the table and turned to see my tattoo in the mirror.
He was a stealer, all right; he’d basically stolen my heart during the course of one picnic.
Frowning, I smoothed the tape over the tattoo so there would be no way to identify me in the video, and then I swiped on my makeup.
With my boobs pushed up high, nearly bursting out of my cami, I walked onto the set wearing tight jeans and knee-high boots. Sarina came in next wearing a similar outfit, although she would be taking hers off. I was just going to remove my top and bra so Big Bryan could come all over me . . . after fucking Sarina in every hole.
I found it hard to plaster a smile on my face this evening. It was better when I had isolated myself. There were less people to hurt when I didn’t have connections outside my adult-film family. Sarina had become more of a sister than my own; I couldn’t leave her in the dust.
I was on a mission to prove many of these women weren’t the cheap, tawdry sluts we believed them to be. They were women, sisters, moms, and aunts just like all of us, and this was their job, their way of putting food on the table, paying the bills, and placing presents under the Christmas tree.
“One, two, three . . . live set now. Quiet, please,” Frank shouted, and that was our cue to begin.
We shot the movie in two takes, and as I was leaving, Sarina insisted on giving me a lift so I wouldn’t have to take the bus.
“You okay?” she asked as we stopped outside my building.
“Yeah,” I said softly.
“It’s normal to have doubts about what we do,” she said, apparently reading my mind.