Captured (Vice, Virtue & Video Book 2) Read online

  “Oh, fuck!” I exclaim as I reach my release. I pump out onto her face, and she flicks her tongue over me.

  “Perfect!” our director calls. “Nice pop shot, you guys!”

  We pause as the still photographer steps in and takes some close-ups of the aftermath all over Misty’s chin.

  I reach down to her and help her up as the dude with the towels comes in and hands one to each of us. She wipes off her face and slips on her robe before giving me a big smile.

  “That was fucking great!” she says as one of our crew guys brings us some water.

  “It’s always great working with you.” I open up my bottle and take a big sip.

  “You too, James,” she says. “Can’t wait until the sequel.”

  I give her a wink before I head back to get showered and cleaned up. I still have a scene with a brunette where we’ll be using a butt plug and a riding crop this morning, and later this afternoon, I’m doing a regular scene with a blonde who’s going to be suspended from the ceiling and flogged before we fuck.

  I wonder if I’ll be too tired to stop by the grocery store and pick up tilapia for fish tacos tonight. I told Lola I’d make them, and I don’t want to disappoint her. Before I have time to think too much about it, I need to start getting my shit together for my next shot. Just another day at work for me.

  Chapter 3

  Lola

  I TRUDGE UP THE STAIRS, eager to get out of my work clothes, when I spot a note on my door. In James’s handwriting, it says:

  Lo, still down for fish tacos tonight?

  The guys are on their way.

  Come over when you get home.

  Below that, in different handwriting, the following message is scribbled:

  Sugar, we want your fish taco! XO ~Chad.

  I snicker to myself and shake my head. Tonight will be fun.

  I dart inside, quickly changing from my pencil skirt and blouse into yoga pants and a Queen A Night at the Opera T-shirt. I pull my hair into a messy ponytail and head out the door to James’s house.

  “I hear someone is hungry for my fish taco,” I say, bursting in the door.

  Chad Rockwell, one of our closest friends, gives me a big smile, his bright blue eyes sparkly with just a hint of mischief. He stands up from the breakfast bar where he was sipping a margarita, quickly scooping me up in a big hug.

  “I don’t think you’ve ever even tasted fish,” I tease, raising an eyebrow at Chad.

  “Well, there was that one time in college.” He sighs before giving me a wink and patting my butt.

  Right on Chad’s heels is his boyfriend, Alejandro Carrera, who hugs me next. His long-sleeve shirt hides the elaborate Day of the Dead tattoos that climb from his wrist up his shoulder. He looks imposing, like one of those Vato guys you see whenever a movie needs a cliché Latin gang member, but his smile is warm and sweet, and he kisses my cheek. He’s the more soft-spoken one of the duo, and he usually sits back and lets his charismatic boyfriend dominate a conversation.

  Both Chad and Alejandro are quite popular gay porn stars, and they’re like big brothers to James. He met them at an industry party shortly after getting into porn, and they were instant friends. When I moved out here, they became my besties too, and we all hang out together quite frequently.

  “You want a margarita, kid?” James asks me, making his way over and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “Sounds great.”

  Chad hands me a margarita, and Alejandro offers me his seat at the breakfast bar. He stands on the other side, running his fingers through his Chad’s silky blond hair before putting his arm around him.

  James is in the kitchen, whipping up a delicious meal for us as we all watch like it’s a show on the Food Network. It’s kind of fascinating to watch him cook, like watching an artist create a beautiful painting out of a blank canvas.

  “How was work, baby girl?” Alejandro asks me.

  “Eh, all right,” I reply, shrugging. “Peter was in a foul mood, and he demanded that I refill the water cooler, even though those bottles weigh like eighty pounds. But thankfully, Tim saw me and helped.”

  “Tim’s the sexy one, right?” Chad asks. “The tall one with those blue eyes?”

  “Yep,” I reply, nodding. “He swooped in and lifted that thing up for me—but I felt like such a fucking girl, needing his help like that.”

  Both guys laugh, and I see James smile as he leans over the stove.

  “I’m sure you just batted your eyes, flashed him a smile, and he was a goner,” Chad teases.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever batted my eyes at anyone.” I giggle with embarrassment at the accusation.

  Both Chad and Alejandro stop in their tracks and smirk at me.

  “What?” The giggles are getting progressively worse, and I know I’m blushing. “I don’t bat my eyes, and I’m not one of those girls who flirts to get what she wants.”

  “Ha!” comes James’s commentary.

  Chad and Alejandro snicker as James turns around and gives me a critical look.

  “She’s not a flirt, necessarily,” he says. “She’s a tease. She’s got the cute, innocent, wide-eyed thing going, and she uses that shit for seduction. Then she pretends like she has no idea what you’re talking about when you call her on it.”

  My mouth gapes as I stare at him.

  “Oh, sure, she’ll make you think you can hit it, but she’ll never actually let you,” he concludes.

  “Okay, none of what you said is true. I demand evidence,” I refute.

  “I’ve seen you show just the right amount of cleavage, heard you do that whispery thing with your voice, and you can get this look in your eye that will instantly get a guy hard, but then you go all cute and pretend you weren’t leading him on.”

  “Speaking from experience?” Chad asks, raising an eyebrow at James.

  “She wanted evidence,” he replies, grinning.

  “Whatever!” I say, scoffing dramatically. “You flirt way more than me. You do it professionally.”

  “Porn shoots don’t exactly require a lot of flirting,” Alejandro remarks with a chuckle. “It’s kind of a sure thing that you’ll get laid, since your paycheck depends on it.”

  I laugh and nod my head. “Fair point. I guess there’s not much flirting necessary when you’re planning to gag a girl and whip her with a flogger.”

  “Oh! Sugar’s throwing shade tonight!” Chad says, looking from me to James.

  “These girls are into that kind of thing,” James refutes.

  “Just saying.” I shrug. “It’s not like torturing girls requires a lot of game.”

  “I don’t torture girls!” James replies, laughing but also a bit exasperated.

  “Tying them up and hitting them isn’t torturing them?” I raise a critical eyebrow.

  “It’s not hitting like hitting. It’s spanking. It’s erotic.”

  I scoff and roll my eyes, which makes Chad and Alejandro snicker.

  “It’s power play, baby girl,” Alejandro chimes in. “It can be really sexy.”

  I crinkle my nose and shake my head. “Being chained up and ‘punished’ doesn’t sound sexy to me. Sorry.”

  “Spanking doesn’t have to be punishment,” Chad clarifies. “There are all sorts of spankings, sugar. Some of them are ultra hot.”

  “You’ve tried that shit?”

  “Everybody likes to spice it up from time to time,” he says with a cheeky little smile.

  “Honestly, I just don’t think I’d ever want to spice it up like that.” My voice has taken on a timid edge, and I realize that all the guys are staring at me. “I just always envision someone being gentle with me. I want something loving and intimate. I think I’d freak out if somebody came at me with handcuffs or a butt plug.” I can’t help but giggle on the last part of the sentence, not even able to describe the tools of the trade without blushing.

  “Shit, I think I’d freak out if someone came at you with handcuffs or a butt plug! I’d beat
the shit out of somebody if they ever tried that shit with you!” James says as he puts the finishing touches on his homemade guacamole. “You deserve gentle. You deserve to have your first time be sweet and intimate. You should have something perfect, you know?”

  I notice Chad and Alejandro giving each other knowing looks.

  “I picture something romantic for you—like in front of a fireplace, or maybe on some big bed with a canopy and candles all around the room,” he continues.

  “I think you’ve thought about this even more than I have,” I tease, trying to hide how much I appreciate his ideal scenario.

  “All I’m saying is I think it should be beautiful for you,” he says dismissively, turning back to the food and obviously trying to avoid eye contact with me.

  Chad and Alejandro both glance at me, giving me subtle, almost pleading looks, but I’m not quite sure how to read their reactions.

  Thankfully, James announces that the food is done, and we all sit down at the table, idly chatting and as we scarf down James’s delicious meal.

  “Oh! Did I tell you Eric asked me to dinner?” I say, looking up at James, who is sitting right across from me.

  “And are you going to go?” he asks, chewing his next bite slower as his eyes dart down to his plate.

  “Hell, yes! It’ll be our first real date, and I’m so psyched. He’s so sexy—and he was totally checking out my ass in the elevator today.”

  Chad and Alejandro burst into loud laughter, but James doesn’t look as amused.

  “Lola,” James whines with frustration, “you should not be psyched that some dude was scoping your ass in an elevator.”

  “Oh, come on! What’s the big deal? I think it’s kind of cool that he thinks I’m hot.”

  “She’s a sex kitten now,” Chad teases. “She works that body, and you know what they say about boys and milkshakes.”

  I throw my head back, cackling at that remark.

  “It may not be on a canopy bed or in front of a fireplace, but I’m sure I’d thoroughly enjoy an evening with Eric,” I joke.

  “You get it, baby girl!” Alejandro says, offering a high-five.

  James makes a gross-out noise and hangs his head, which makes Chad snicker loudly.

  “Do we have to talk about this?” James complains. “I don’t want to think of a sweet, innocent little angel like you giving it up to some Scandinavian-looking motherfucker.”

  Now both guys erupt in laughter, and James can’t help but smile, though there’s a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

  “Chastity advice from a man who fucks for a living,” I say with an exaggerated eye roll.

  “Those girls I fuck are professionals. You are most certainly not a professional, and I just don’t want you to let some douchebag steal your V-card just because you feel like you’re obligated to do it. Just…just don’t fuck Eric because it’s convenient, all right?”

  In that moment, I can tell that this is truly bothering him. He’s trying to save face, because Chad and Alejandro are here—and keenly watching his every expression—but he truly is uncomfortable with the subject.

  “All right,” I say, placating him. “I won’t sleep with Eric unless I’m sure I really, really want to. How about that?”

  “Fine,” he replies, taking a sip of his drink.

  “Jesus, James, why don’t you just lock her up in a chastity belt,” Chad criticizes. “She’s a beautiful girl. Let her have her fun.”

  “He just doesn’t want her to get her heart broken,” Alejandro says, siding with James. “He’s just telling her to be careful.”

  “Like she won’t!” Chad rolls his eyes. “Lola’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

  I smile at the compliment. I’m kind of amused how this topic has become like a political debate at the table.

  “You know how he is,” Alejandro says, nodding toward James. “He just wants to protect her.”

  “I don’t need protection! I appreciate his concern—” I look at James, then back at them “—but at some point I think we need to come to the conclusion that I’ve grown up and that the whole protective thing isn’t necessary anymore.”

  “Aw! Go easy on him,” Alejandro advocates. “He cares about you, that’s all. Don’t hate on him for that.”

  James looks grateful that Alejandro has his back.

  “I’m not hating,” I reply apologetically. “James, you know I’m not hating on you, right? I’m just saying that I think I can handle Eric.”

  “I know,” he replies, though I’m not entirely convinced he’s come to terms with it. “But, seriously, can we talk about something else—anything else? I don’t need to sit here thinking about some dude fucking my precious little cupcake.”

  I try not to laugh, but I can’t help it. James’s resulting smile is warmer and more mischievous—back to his normal self.

  “So you—” he points to Chad “—can zip it, and you, young lady, can finish your fuckin’ tacos and not make me freak out anymore tonight.”

  “Bossy, bossy, bossy!” I chide him playfully.

  “She’s immune to that Dom voice, James,” Alejandro says, grinning. “Your powers have no effect on her.”

  “Damn right!” I reply.

  “Baby,” James says to me, his voice softer and sweeter. “Will you please just shut the fuck up and finish your tacos so I don’t have to sit here picturing that Nordic lawyer robbing you of your innocence?”

  I laugh hard, but I nod my head and take a big, crunchy bite of my taco.

  Chad chimes in, changing the subject, and I get to hear all sorts of industry gossip as the guys talk about their recent shoots. Chad just wrapped one with a gorgeous guy named Kevin Wilde, and he’s sure it’ll be a winner. Alejandro agrees, and I’m sort of amazed at how trusting and proud they are of each other. I don’t think I could be anywhere near as comfortable with my boyfriend screwing other people for work, but these guys have both been in the biz a long time, so it doesn’t bother them. In fact, they’re probably the most loving couple I know.

  A few hours after dinner, James walks me back to my place and decides to chill out with me for a little while. I take out a bottle of nail polish and start painting my toes when he volunteers to help. It’s adorable, but I don’t want to ruin it by calling him on it. He never wants to admit that he’s a sweetheart and a total pushover when it comes to me. He likes to think of himself as large and in charge, just like when he was trying to be Mr. Protective Bossypants at dinner tonight.

  I rest my foot on his knee, and he carefully applies the “Ton of Bricks” red polish to my toes, concentrating like an air traffic controller.

  I can’t help but snicker, and he looks up at me with a smirk.

  “Shut it!” he says with a big grin.

  “What?” I attempt a wide-eyed, innocent look. “It’s just cute, is all.”

  “I got your cute right here,” he jokes, grabbing his crotch.

  I laugh loudly and shake my head.

  “So you promise me you’ll be careful on your date?” he asks, segueing into the subject that’s probably been preying on his mind since I mentioned it.

  “Yes, I promise.” I roll my eyes.

  “Seriously, Lola,” he says with the vulnerability that’s reserved only for me.

  “Yes, seriously, I promise you I’ll be careful. What does that even mean, anyway? I’m not venturing into a lion’s den. It’s just a date, dude,” I say with a little annoyance.

  “You know how I get.” He shrugs. It’s true. He’s always so paranoid about my romantic endeavors.

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine. We’re just going to dinner, so I don’t know what peril I could get into at a restaurant,” I say, nudging him with my foot.

  “Promise me you won’t fuck him,” he boldly demands.

  “James! Okay, first of all, you can’t just throw down rules like that. I’m a grown-ass woman, and you can’t dictate who I choose to get familiar with. Second, do you actually think I would f
uck somebody after only one date?”

  “No. You’re a good girl, Lola, and I know you wouldn’t do some shit like that, but I just worry. Eric’s so much older than you, and based on what you’ve told me about him, he seems like kind of a smooth talker. I don’t want him smooth talking you right out of your panties.”

  “I want you to look at me when I do this because I’m doing it as hard as I can.” I point to my face before dramatically rolling my eyes.

  “Fine, don’t listen to me,” he says, smirking. “Go out there and give it up to that Viking motherfucker ’cause he fed you some line of bullshit to get into your pants. Let’s see how you feel after that, huh? Let’s see what happens when you’re all bummed out about it and I have to build you back up again and show you that you’re worth a lot more than that.”

  There’s an underlying tenderness to what he said that makes me smile.

  “You are, you know?” His voice sounds softer, more sincere and even a bit shy. “You’re worth way more than a dude like him.”

  “You don’t even know him,” I murmur in response.

  “But I know you,” he says, looking right into my eyes. “I know what you deserve, how special you are. How beautiful.”

  My throat moves as I swallow heavily. Pure, unadulterated honesty. Whenever he says things like this to me, he sounds so genuine and forthright that it catches me off guard. I’m used to Total-Smart-Ass James, but Heartfelt-and-Sincere James can stop me in my tracks.

  “Give me your other foot,” he says, breaking the moment as he puts my left foot up on his knee.

  A big smile slowly spreads across my face as I watch him return to the task with such care.

  “Lola,” he says, grinning, “don’t tell anybody about this—that I’m sitting here painting your fuckin’ toenails like we’re at a slumber party or something.”

  I laugh loudly and nod my head. “Afraid this would damage your rep?”

  “Beyond belief!” he replies, giving my foot a squeeze. “I can’t be the dude who ties girls up and spanks them and the dude who sits around pampering you like you’re a fuckin’ princess. How the fuck could I maintain any level of coolness if people found out that I spent my whole night cooking dinner and painting your toenails for your date with some other guy?”