Porn Star(40)

She changed course...why? My heart beats harder and faster. What was she going to say? Because what if she was going to say that she is falling for me? That she has feelings for me?

What would I say back?

The answer rises to my lips immediately: Me too me too me too.

She drags my mind away from those thoughts with a soft sigh, the kind of sigh that makes me remember the noises she made on the hood of my car. Something snaps inside of me, something big.

“Sit on the couch,” I command. My voice is firm, loud and a little harsh in the small, warm space. Some distant part of me wonders if I’ve crossed a line.

But she sits.

I walk over to her. “On the edge,” I say, and she obeys, and then I kick her legs apart, so that she’s not only sitting on the edge but has her legs splayed wide. Her skirt rides up, baring her *.

She peers up at me with those golden eyes at the same time that I smell her scent again. My pulse thuds in my neck and wrists and groin, and it hits me.

I’m not just caught up in Devi, I’m truly, honestly falling for her. I have feelings.

Capital F Feelings.

Somehow my crush has gone from “casually obsessed with” to “move in with me,” and I have no idea what the f*ck to do with that, much less what Devi would do with it if she knew. She’s obviously attracted to me, but that in no way equates romance, especially in our line of work. It’s too soon for me to feel this way, and it’s not right to drag that into the middle of a project. And if I’m being honest, I’m scared. Not a little scared, but a lot scared, because the last time I had capital F Feelings, I lost my dog, my heart, and my sobriety in one fell swoop.

But I can’t just ignore this, and clearly, I can’t hide it from Devi, nor do I want to.

There has to be a middle ground, right? Between pretending it away and proposing marriage?

I drop to my knees in between her legs, not missing her small shiver as I do.

“You’re turned on for me all the time?” I ask her. “Well, I’m worse. I’m f*cking miserable with the need to touch you and taste you. I’m obsessed with it. I’m obsessed with you.” I meet her eyes. “You have to tell me if that makes you uncomfortable. Because the way I think about you, the way I crave you, it’s not just like two performers. It’s not just like two friends.” My hands find her ankles and wrap around them, more to keep myself from touching her in more interesting places while she answers. I can see her pulse hammering in her throat as she swallows.

“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” I ask tentatively.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“And are you okay with it?”

A pause. And then a nod.

Well, it’s not the most enthusiastic response I could have hoped for, but what did I expect? Even holding back from going full Romeo on her, it’s still a lot to lay on a girl, that I think about her all the time, and not in a friends-only way. I start to get up from my kneeling position, but she stops me with a hand on my shoulder. It drifts over to my throat, where her thumb caresses lightly across my Adam’s apple.

It’s my turn to shiver.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, “you just took me by surprise. What I mean to say is that it’s more than okay with me. I’m...I’m a little obsessed with you, too.”

I feel like my chest is going to explode. “Really?”

She smiles. “Really.”

“But you also understand why I want to bottle up some of...whatever this is...and use it for the show, right?”

She nods, but the smile fades. “I understand. We want it to feel real.”

“Because it is real. The heat between us, it’s special, Cass, and if we play our cards right, everyone who watches us will feel it.”

“I get it.”

But something is off in her voice, and I don’t know how to fix it. Except to do what I planned on doing originally when I made her sit: lean down and bury my face between her legs.

She lets out a low noise—half moan, half sigh—and I go easy on her, knowing she’s probably a little sore from all the times I made her come in the desert. I go soft and steady, long strokes of my tongue and light flicks over her clit, and her build-up is slow but inexorable as she squirms in front of me, her fingers laced in my hair and pulling hard. And when she comes, she cries out my name, and I nearly lose all my resolve and f*ck her right there.

“I just needed another taste before I went home,” I explain as I straighten, wiping my mouth.

“I like that,” she mumbles dazedly. “I like when it happens without the cameras...it makes me feel like you want me.”

“Jesus, woman. I can prove that I want you every second of the day, if you want. But for tonight, I’ll be happy with my taste.”

She falls back against the couch with a tired laugh. “You can have all the tastes you want.”

“I might take you up on that, Cass.”

And later that night, when I’m undressing, I discover that I still have her panties—pink, silk, teenage boy’s wet dream panties—in my pocket. And so I finally, finally relieve the ache, stroking my neglected cock with the silk until I erupt in thick ropes of cum. I film the entire thing on my phone and I send it to Devi.

Told you I was obsessed, I text right after it sends.