Diving In

  Diving In

  By

  Bianca Giovanni

  Published by Bianca Giovanni at Smashwords

  Copyright 2012 Bianca Giovanni

  Discover other works by Bianca Giovanni at Smashwords.com

  First Dance

  Free introductory short story in the Vice & Virtue series

  Exposed

  The second short story in the Vice & Virtue series

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold

  or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Disclaimer

  This ebook contains sexual content and is not intended for readers under 18. All events and characters are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is completely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  A Message From The Author

  Chapter 1 - Lola

  Chapter 2 - James

  Chapter 3 - Lola

  Chapter 4 - James

  Chapter 5 - Lola

  Vice, Virtue & Video Free Sample

  A Message From The Author

  Thank you to everyone who downloaded my first two shorts, First Dance and Exposed! I have truly appreciated all your comments and reviews, particularly those posted by the great community of authors and avid readers at Smashwords. I am currently putting the finishing touches on Vice, Virtue & Video, the first full-length novel in this series. Keep an eye out for that and follow me on Twitter and Tumblr for more information, discount codes and updates. If you've enjoyed my shorts, tell your friends and please leave a rating or review. Thanks again to all my readers!

  Chapter 1 - Lola

  It’s funny how everything seems to move in slow-mo when you’re in a hurry. As I stand here waiting to get off the plane at LAX, everything and everyone around me is annoying the crap out of me because they seem to be taking their sweet time. Take the guy un-wedging his bag from the overhead compartment right now, for example. He smushed it in there so hard that I’m not surprised he’s grunting and yanking at it to try to free it. They really should have made him check it, then he’d be hurrying to get to baggage claim just like I am.

  I planned this trip to California to visit my best friend, James, who lives out here. James and I grew up together—we’ve been best buds since I was six and he was nine—and I’m so anxious to see him that I wish the man with the bag and the mom with her two little kids would get a move on. James is waiting for me at baggage claim right now and I wish I could harness the power of teleportation so I could jump into his arms and give him a huge hug.

  It’s not like it’s been ages since I’ve seen him, but still, I missed him terribly. He visited me in our hometown a few months ago, right before I graduated high school and departed out east for college. During that visit, he saved me from a boring-ass prom by picking me up a la Jake Ryan and taking me on this really sweet, slightly romantic picnic up in the mountains that overlooked our neighborhood. That night, he slept over at my house on the sneak and we cuddled in my bed all night. It was so tender and romantic, but we stayed within the limits of friendship.

  Poor James, the next day, his parents found out that he’d been earning his living by staring in porn flicks and they basically disowned him. He came to my house crying and my mom and I gladly took him in. He slept over again that night and, while I was trying to console him, he got intimate with me and started kissing my neck and trying to feel me up. I don’t know what happened but it was like it triggered something in me. My relationship with him has never really taken on a sexual aspect—he’s slept with practically every girl in our hometown, but he never really tried that shit on me. After that, though, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with him and if the legends of his sexual prowess were true.

  Finally this dumbass gets his bag down and the flow of traffic off the plane can continue. The flight attendant greets everyone with “buh-bye” and I nearly run down the jetway to get to baggage claim. I’m clipping along in my espadrilles, which were too cold to wear back in school but are perfect for Southern California, and I hike my messenger bag with my MacBook up on my shoulder. Move it, people! My best friend’s waiting!

  Finally, I get to baggage claim and I spot him immediately. He’s not hard to pick out in a crowd. He’s 6’5” and a towering hulk of muscle. James has always had an athletic body, but he’s been working out a lot more this past year and you can see a hint of his chiseled pecks peeking out from the v-neck of his t-shirt. He runs his fingers through his shoulder-length, chocolate brown hair and scans the space, searching for me. A huge, perfect, bright white smile spreads across his face the second his eyes meet mine and he runs over and throws his arms around me, scooping me up and twirling me around while he kisses my cheek over and over.

  “I missed you so much, kid!” he grins as he puts me down.

  “Same,” I smile. “I was, like, ready to kill people if they didn’t get the fuck out of my way so I could race down here to get to you.”

  “That would have been a funny news story,” he laughs. “KTLA reporting live from the scene where a tiny ninja girl has just murdered six people because she wanted to hurry to see her best friend.”

  “That’s basically what it would have been,” I chuckle.

  “Come on,” he says, patting my butt, “let’s get your shit and you can see my apartment.”

  As we wait at the carousel for my bag, he puts his arm around me, resting his big, strong hand on my hip. James is over a foot taller than me and I always feel so small when I’m up against him like this. I like it, though. It’s very symbolic of our relationship. He’s always been this big, tough dude who could move within any social circle at school because all the girls wanted to fuck him—goths, band geeks, cheerleaders, it didn’t matter, his hotness knew no bounds. I, on the other hand, was your classic brainy nerd. I was the kid who did the extra credit and who was embarrassed for anyone to see that I got 107 percent on the test when other people were averaging Bs and Cs. For most of my life, I was scrawny and gangly, not stacked like I am now, and every guy but James essentially ignored me. After I got boobs, it was like I turned on the “open for business” sign and I caught the eye of several vaguely uncouth individuals who were very interested in getting in my pants. James, of course, went into psycho protector mode and intimidated any dude who tried to touch me until most of them were scared to lay a finger on me because they knew they’d face his wrath. This is probably why I’m a freshman in college and I’ve never had sex. I’ve never really gone past second base and the only time I did was after James had graduated and wasn’t around to scare the boys away anymore.

  “It’s that one, the red one,” I say, pointing to my bag as it slides down the chute.

  He grabs it one-handed and pops out the handle, rolling it along as we walk out to his car. He’s parked right outside and I don’t know how he got away with that. They’re normally so anal about letting unattended vehicles park within so many yards of an airport. I soon realize that the guard at this section of the curb is a woman and she eyes James like he’s filet mignon. This dude has lived in a hotness bubble his whole life and he can get away with murder as long as a woman is involved. He’s such a charmer and a flash of his smile opens doors that would be closed to us mortal human beings. The guy’s a fucking sex superhero sometimes and he can turn on a look that I call the James Laird Sex Lase
r Beam, which is basically a concentrated gaze of sexual energy that seems to immobilize the rational mind of nearly everyone girl he sees.

  We hop in his beat-up old Honda Civic, the same one he’s had since he was 16, and we’re on our way to his apartment. I like seeing palm trees and sunlight. It’s a nice change of pace from the Founding Fathers, colonial, stuffy educational institution I’ve recently moved into.

  We arrive at his apartment complex, which looks like it was built in the late ‘70s or early ‘80s. It’s three stories with outdoor staircases and hallways. The doors are all painted turquoise and the railings are all a Pepto-Bismol pink—very ‘80s colors. I know these places aren’t particularly expensive, since James knows how to be thrifty, but they’re not bad. Even cheap apartments out here are probably twice what they would cost in our hometown and, even though he’s making pretty good money now, I’m glad he didn’t try to splurge on some extravagant place. He’s smart like that, knowing that he should save up for the day when he can no longer fuck for a living.

  We get to his door and he unlocks it and ushers me inside. His place is surprisingly roomy and, aside from the low ceilings, it doesn’t look all that dated inside. The floor plan is pretty open with the living room to the right and the kitchen straight ahead. There’s a breakfast bar looking over a small table by the window. On the other side of the room is a small area with a desk and his MacBook Pro closed beside a stack of photos of busty girls—probably pics of his costars. The bedroom is down the hall and the bathroom is next to that. I recognize a painting his mom did several years ago hanging on the wall between the kitchen and the bedroom and it makes me feel a little sad. James and his mom were always so close and I know it damn near killed him to see how disappointed she was when she found out about the porn stuff. It’s sweet that he still has this memento of her in his place, even though it’s probably a hurtful reminder of the happy family life he once had.

  “You hungry?” he smiles as he puts my bag down in his bedroom.

  “Yeah,” I nod. “I had a bagel this morning but I was too psyched to eat lunch.”

  That makes him grin proudly and he comes over to give me a hug. I can tell that he missed me from the way he completely envelops me, blanketing me with his adoration. It makes me feel warm inside to know that he cares about me so much because I cherish his friendship and the deep bond that we have.

  “There’s a sushi place I want to take you to. It’s one of those trendy places that the cool people go to, which is dumb, but they have really good unagi, so you’ll like it,” he offers.

  “Sweet,” I nod. “Can I change into something more trendy and fashionable, you know, since I’m gonna hang with the cool kids and all?”

  “Sure,” he chuckles, “but you look beautiful already.”

  It makes me smile whenever he compliments me, though he does it all the time and sometimes I think he’s just being nice.

  I go into the bedroom and put on a cute, casual, sleeveless dress. It’s got a green, floral pattern that distracts from my enormous boobs and makes my body look less top-heavy. I run a brush through my long hair and dab on a little lip gloss and I think I look decent enough to hang with the in-crowd.

  “Gorgeous,” James says when I emerge. “When did you get this?”

  “I bought it right before I moved because it was hot and muggy, but then it got cold and I only got the chance to wear it once,” I reply.

  “See, think about what it’d be like if you lived out here,” he grins. “You could wear sexy stuff like this all the time.”

  “Wouldn’t that give you heart palpitations?” I snicker. “You’re already paranoid enough as it is about guys checking me out. I’m sure you’d be a nervous wreck if I walked around showing skin.”

  “Yeah, but I’d get to look at all your skin,” he says flirtatiously. “And I’d just stare down anybody else who tried to do it.”

  I roll my eyes with a laugh and reach for my purse.

  We get to the sushi place and he’s right, it is trendy. Everybody in here looks like they’re an actor or a model and I feel a little self-conscious. All their looks are very put together, but in that “I just threw these clothes on because I don’t care” kind of way. Very calculated, but trying to look like it’s totally effortless.

  We sit down at our table and the waitress comes by to get our drink orders. She’s pretty, probably early twenties with flat-ironed, blonde hair and a totally SoCal tan. She flashes her bleached white smile at James and he returns it with a flirty look of his own. He does this all the time, flirts with everybody and anybody. She likes what she sees and she barely even looks at me, which I pretty much expect at this point. It happens whenever I go out somewhere with him. The ladies are just hypnotized by his square jaw, his hazel eyes, his high cheekbones and his pouty lips. Can’t say I blame them. He’s got the face of a male model and the body of an Adonis.

  “So, how’s business?” I smile at him. “Last I heard you had a shoot with that Lexi Jaxxxon girl,” I say, referencing the pretty porn starlet who looks like a combination of Aaliyah and Gabrielle Union.

  “Yeah,” he nods. “It was a fun one. She gets wild, dude. She’s all flexible, too, so we were doing some crazy positions—shit that wasn’t even on the lineup for that day.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “You got her to bend the rules for you?”

  “Hey, she was the one who suggested it. You should have seen this blowjob she gave me. Epic, dude! She does this thing with her tongue that’s just—”

  “I don’t need all the details,” I put up my hand as I chuckle.

  “Sorry,” he snickers with that smart-ass grin. “Don’t want to offend my pristine little princess.”

  I give him a pretend scowl and blush.

  “I just don’t need the play-by-play on a blowjob,” I laugh. “So, the gist of it is that things are good for you? The shoot went well and you’re out here dishing out dick like it’s going out of style?”

  “Pretty much,” he says through hearty laughter.

  “Well, good. I’m happy for you,” I chuckle.

  “You’ll meet Lexi tomorrow,” he adds. “She’ll be at Rick’s party.”

  Rick is the guy who owns Sin Cinema, the production company where James does the majority of his movies. It’s Labor Day weekend and Rick’s having a barbecue at his house. James invited me to come as his date and, since I was itching to come out to California and visit him, I happily accepted. There are going to be a lot of industry people there and I’m a little nervous because I’ve never been to a porn party and I have no idea what to expect.

  “Are there gonna be, like, people fucking everywhere like this is the Playboy Mansion or something?” I meekly inquire. “I mean, is this going to turn into some kind of orgy?”

  “Yeah, Lola, I’m so sure I’d bring you to an orgy,” he says dryly. “I don’t want any guys to fuckin’ touch you, so I’d so totally take you to a big, giant fuck fest.”

  “Well how am I supposed to know?” I laugh. “I don’t know what you guys do. These are all people who have sex for a living the way other people would send a fax or fill out a spreadsheet. How do I know I won’t end up sandwiched between two guys in a grotto or something?”

  “Rick doesn’t have a grotto,” he grins mischievously, leaving out anything about the whole double-stuff scenario.

  I shoot him a smirk.

  “Besides, you know I’d never let you lose it at some porn guy’s party,” he adds with a smile. “You deserve, like, a candle-lit, romantic, passionate situation—like maybe in front of a fireplace or some romancey stuff like that.”

  I burst into laughter and he looks amused. I think James has envisioned my perfect first time more than I have.

  “So, you’ll be my bodyguard for any guys who want to introduce me to anal?” I joke.

  “I will defend your virtue and your ass to the death,” he says in a knightly vow.

  “Good,” I giggle. “Glad to see I have such an
honorable, upstanding gentleman for a best friend.”

  The waitress brings out a giant plate of sushi that probably cost a fortune. James has insisted on paying for everything—including my plane ticket—and whenever I object he tells me how he’s making up to four grand per scene and sometimes shoots four scenes a week. I like that he’s saving up by keeping his expenses low. It’s smart and mature and I’m proud to see him exhibiting those qualities.

  The food is delicious! The tuna, salmon, shrimp and eel are all amazing. We chat about being able to use chopsticks and how we’re way too cool to ask for forks. Our second grade teacher lived in Japan for a while and we used to have field trips to a sushi place in town so we could all experience the cuisine as part of an effort to provide cultural enrichment. Our school was cool like that.

  James gives me shit when I ask him to let me pay my half of the check and I eventually give up and let him treat me. It’s cute when he tries to be a gentleman like this. Hard to believe that he’s chivalrous and respectful when you think about all the kinky stuff he’s done and the gargantuan number of women he’s bedded.

  We get back to his apartment and I’m wiped out from the long day. It’s a hell of a flight from the east coast to the west coast, plus I’m sleepy from being so stuffed with food. He lets me take the first shower and I change into some pajama shorts and a tank top. Last time I wore these skimpy pajamas, he got all hot and bothered and we ended up having a little romp in the guest bedroom at my house. Nothing too major happened, but I can’t say it wasn’t in the back of my mind when I packed this ensemble. It’s not that I want it to happen again—well, maybe I do a little bit—but I like the idea of him finding me sexy. He’s sampled every girl, every type, every shape, every height and race, and it’s cool to think that I would score a high rank on his hotness list.