Porn Star(59)

“I’ve only been camping once with a church group and I hated it. Showers are very important to me.”

She gives a rueful sigh. “I think I’ve been camping more times than I can count.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. No, my parents got this for me a couple Christmases ago because they never know what to buy. What do you get the man who has everything—or at least gets to f*ck everything? And the answer is usually the kinds of gift you see in catalogs on the airplane.”

Devi rolls over onto her elbow, her face suddenly serious. “Do you think that you want to be the man who f*cks everything forever?”

I turn my head to look at her. “You mean, like do I ever see myself quitting porn?”

“Yeah.”

I think for a moment. “Maybe?” I finally say, after my thoughts refuse to order themselves out of the incomprehensible jumble they are right now. “Like, I know logically that the job depends on my body, and my body only has a lifespan of being nice to look at for another decade or so, unless by some magic, I age like Robert Downey Jr. or Terry Crews or something. I guess I just keep thinking that I’ll have my shit figured out by then, and I’ll know what to do when the time comes to step away.”

“If you could do anything, what would it be?”

Her brow is adorably furrowed right now, as if the answer to her question is the most important thing she’ll ever hear. I reach up with my thumb and smooth it out, bringing a smile to her lips. “I’d make movies. Not just sexy movies, but all kinds of movies. But that’s not really the kind of thing I can just jump into, and I don’t know enough about it even if I wanted to jump in anyway.”

“You could go to film school.”

“That used to be the plan.” I roll up on my elbow too so I can look at her better. “Hey, Cass?”

“Yes?”

“Tonight—did it feel real? With the camera?” As I ask, I glance over to the camera trained on us now, recording in silence.

Even in the dim light, I can see her cheeks color. “Yes, Logan,” she says quietly. “It felt real.”

“Does it feel real now?”

A pause. Then: “Yes.”

I trace the curve of her shoulder, my fingers dancing over her skin to find the slope of her rib cage, and my hand settles in making circles in the dip of her waist. “I want things to be real between us all of the time,” I say, and I didn’t realize how nervous I would be saying this until I’m saying it now. “I know we’ve admitted that we like each other in a physical sense. That we’re attracted to each other and want to be more than friends. But it’s even more than that for me.”

I feel her tense up underneath my hand, and I have a brief debate—backpedal or continue? But I have to continue. If she decides that my feelings make her too uncomfortable to go on with Star-Crossed, then I have to accept that. But I don’t think I can hide how I really feel from her any longer.

But to make myself more comfortable, I revert to what I know best—sex. My hand skims around her waist to the curve of her ass, and then I find her * warm and soft between her legs. She moans as I start playing with her.

“I like you, Devi. Not just in the porno way, but in the mushy hearts and flowers kind of way. I like being with you and hearing you talk and just watching you exist. I know that makes me a stalker, but...well, I guess I don’t really have an excuse for that. Almost every night since we filmed Playdates, I’ve beaten off to your scenes…”

“Jesus, Logan,” she murmurs.

“Is that a good Jesus or a bad Jesus?”

“So good,” she mumbles, rolling onto her stomach and spreading her legs so that I have better access to her *. “Rub me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I comply with her request and search out her clit, kneading it gently in case she’s sore. “So I know I’m being manipulative by fingering you while we have this discussion, but I guess I want to know if I’m alone in this. If you like me in the mushy way too.”

I can hear her smile in her words even though I can’t see her face. “I like you in the mushy way too. A lot. You’re definitely not alone.”

The wave of sweet relief hits me so hard that I’m surprised to find that my eyelids are burning a little. I clear my throat to cover it up. “Really?”

“Really.” She turns her head to look at me. “I masturbated to you almost every night too, you know. And the sex tonight was so good. You make me feel—I don’t even have words for it. Reckless. Alive. Ecstatic. I was so caught up in you that I let you f*ck me without a condom.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “I would f*cking never do that in my right mind.”

By now I should be used to the fact that Devi doesn’t make emotional leaps without a healthy dose of logical caution, that there will always be a gap between my impetuous declarations and her admitting that she feels the same way. But I’m not used to it yet, I guess, because relief and joy and giddy excitement are still thrumming through me with tornadic force. I drop my head to her shoulder blade, breathing in her cinnamon smell. “I want to make you out of your mind all the time,” I say against her skin. “Like the way you make me.”

“I’d say you’re off to a good start.” She squirms against my hand, and when I tease her folds open, I find that she’s completely soaked.