Porn Star

To have more sex with Logan.

Take the industry by storm. Is it fate that he’s used the same words that LaRue Hagen used?

I’m flattered and flustered. The whole thing is surreal, and I don’t know what to say.

“Devi? What are you thinking?”

Before I can answer, I have to know, “Why wouldn’t you ask someone with more experience? I haven’t even done any het porn since the scene we did. Why me?”

I expect it’s because of my inexperience. A project like this is best with a newbie that could be groomed along the way. My ethnicity probably helps too. If he’s trying to be forward-thinking, an ethnically diverse cast is the way to go. And if LaRue Hagen is right, my career is poised to “break out.” Naturally other directors would notice.

But he doesn’t give any of those answers as his reasons. Instead his features grow somber and his eyes serious, and he says, “I want it to feel authentic.”

“What?” I’m so surprised that the word falls out, breathy and astounded.

“I want it to be real,” he says sheepishly. “As real as possible. So.”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to say anything and ruin this incredible, awesome, strange, surreal moment. I mean, I’m in. How can I not be? But I’m still so flabbergasted that I can’t answer right away.

Then he grins that charming crooked grin of his, the one that makes my knees shake, even when I’m sitting down. “Come on, Devi Dare,” he says, and it’s like he’s purring. “Make porn with me.”

And that’s how I go from a stable career of girl-on-girl to making an arty, dirty reality show with a porn star.





8





One Week Later





Devi lives in El Segundo, in a stamp-sized bungalow that’s been awkwardly chopped into two apartments. And despite the tidy landscaping and fresh paint, I notice that she locks no less than four locks before she skips down the driveway to my car. I knew the kind of porn she did paid less, but I guess I never realized how much less, and I immediately feel a wave of weirdness about my massive house up in Laurel Canyon and even the car I’m in right now. It’s a Shelby Mustang Super Snake, and while it didn’t cost as much as most of the other cars I see in the Hills, it would still be a few years’ worth of rent in a place like this.

But there’s no weirdness at all on Devi’s face as she opens the door and slides inside. “Nice car,” she says with genuine admiration, running her fingertips along the sleek dash. Her hair is in long beachy waves, tumbling over her shoulders and down to her waist, and she wears the shortest denim shorts I’ve ever seen, exposing long expanses of tanned and toned leg. I follow those legs up from her flat leather sandals, over the elegant curve of her calf, and up to her thighs, those firm slopes of muscle leading up to her juicy ass—which is only barely covered by the shorts.

I see the slightest hint of pink in her cheeks when she realizes I’m staring at her body, but I don’t stop. Instead, I move my gaze up to her chest, where a thin orange tank top drapes low over her chest. She’s wearing a light blue bra, the kind of bra that says first date, the kind of bra that doesn’t anticipate sex but wouldn’t shy away from it either.

She’s this complete package of fun and summer and sex, of the girl next door and the girl of my dreams, and I want to pull her into my lap and kiss her neck while she straddles me. I want to wind my fingers in her hair and leave a trail of marks from her neck to her tits, and then I want to fuck her until she’s trembling with the need for release, and then I want to give it to her...again and again and again. I shift in my seat, my dick now hard and insistent, and I resist the urge to start rubbing it through my jeans.

“See something you like?” she teases.

“Yeah, I do,” I answer honestly. I meet her eyes without a trace of a smile on my face, and that pink flush deepens, and suddenly I am plunged back into Vida’s pool, desperately wanting to kiss her and also knowing I would be a giant tool for doing it.

Get it together, Logan. This is still a scene, no matter how little sex you have tonight, so act like a goddamned professional. Not for the first time since I pitched the idea to Marieke, I wonder what my real motivations are here. This is supposed to be a scene, a fantasy, a fake date, and I told myself if I really wanted it to work, it needed to be with a woman I had chemistry with.

But what if I’m only doing this because I want to be close to Devi?

Because I do want to be close to Devi. A lot.

But how can I be sure that I’m really ready for that, that I’m not going after Devi as part of some rebound agenda? She deserves better than that. She deserves to be sought after because she’s perfect, not because I hate my ex-girlfriend and I hate the loneliness that’s chased me since she left. I want to give Devi what she deserves. I just don’t know if I can yet.

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