Blue Boy 1: Bullet (2 page)

If Jon was surprised that Levi hadn’t flat-out refused him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he leaned forward with eager eyes. “What about Rex?”

“Rex? Are you kidding me?” The words were out before Levi could stop them. Rex? No fucking way. The dude was massive, from his broad shoulders and tree-trunk legs to his mammoth nine-inch cock. Levi had never filmed a scene with him, but he knew his magic numbers. Each Blue Boy model had the size of his dick recorded on the wall of fame.

“If you’re nervous, I’m sure we can—”

“It’s not that,” Levi snapped, though, of course, it was. Even if he liked to bottom, any sane man would balk at the prospect of having Rex’s monster cock crammed into his ass. “I just…”

“Just what?”

Silence. He didn’t have the ending to that sentence, and Jon knew it. What was he supposed to say? That he was scared? Yeah, because that would be the quickest way to unravel his hard-earned rep as one of the industry’s most ruthless tops. There was a whispered saying in the industry that you weren’t a real star until you’d taken as much dick as you’d given out. He didn’t care much for accolades, but he cared about the money—he had to—and without giving the viewers what they wanted to see, the cash would soon dry up.

Jon was a pretty cool boss—the kind of boss who kept him at one studio when others appeared to offer more money. Levi had faith he wouldn’t even try to force him to do it, but Jon was one of very few souls privy to what had lured him into the porn industry in the first place, and he wasn’t above making Levi an offer he couldn’t refuse.

Levi knew what he had to do—he had to roll over and take it like a man. Trouble was he just didn’t want to. “Let me think about it,” he said reluctantly.

Jon grinned, sensing victory. “Don’t think for too long. I was considering getting Sonny on board too, and I want to get this schedule wrapped before I head out to Vegas.”

Great
. This shit just got better and better. Sonny was a dancer from Silver, the club Jon owned across the street, and one of the industry’s rising go-go boys. Bigger than the average twink, he was tattooed and compact, a perfect package of stunning beauty, and totally fucking annoying. He’d never so much as glanced Levi’s way, and they’d never filmed together. As far as Levi knew, Sonny stuck to solo scenes and promotional photo shoots.

It wasn’t going to happen. There was no way he was shooting a scene with Rex and his monster cock
and
some kid who couldn’t hide his disdain. Screw that, or rather, no chance in hell. He opened his mouth to say as much but was cut off by a light tap on the door. The door opened, and there he stood—all five feet and seven inches of Sonny fucking Valentine.

Chapter Two

Levi stared at Sonny. For some reason, the sinuous dancer was the last person he’d expected to see. Sonny glared right back through his sharp and soulful hazel eyes. In fact, Levi found himself musing that Sonny’s eyes were his best feature, aside from his tousled blond hair, taut abs, and smooth inked skin, hidden by his hip-hugging jeans and tight T-shirt…

Stop it, jackass. You don’t even like the kid. Why are you eye-fucking him?

He reined himself in and averted his gaze. Sonny let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a vexed puff of air, but before Levi could respond in kind, Jon shut his desk drawer with a bang.

“Hey, Sonny, we were just talking about you. Levi’s gonna think about being the third man in on that three-way I mentioned to you. You two haven’t shot together, have you?” He glanced between them. Sonny shook his head, but Levi maintained a mutinous silence. Jon knew full well who had shot with whom. The whole studio was set up around his own perverted fantasies. It had to be. Why else would a man own a porn company? “Okay, well, why don’t you hang for a bit, swap numbers or whatever? Be good to get to know each other, eh? Might help Levi here grow some balls to match that huge rod.”

Jon laughed like he’d made the funniest crack he’d ever heard, slapped Levi on the back, and left the room. Levi watched him go, knowing he should get up and follow, but something had left him frozen in his seat, caught between fury and a building sense of apprehension smoldering deep in his belly.

Sonny waited for the door to shut, then turned back to Levi with an elegant, arched eyebrow. “Did I hear that right?
You’re
going to bottom?”

“Looks that way,” Levi replied tersely. Sonny ventured farther into the room. Levi noticed he was barefoot, like he’d come straight from a shoot too. “Did you film a scene today?”

“Yep.” Sonny leaped like a cat over the back of the chair Jon had just vacated and slid into the seat. “Some crappy jerk-off scene with Jay and Nico. Man, that shit is so contrived.”

“Why do it, then?” Levi snapped, irrationally feeling the need to defend the profession he was growing to loathe. “I thought you were just a dancer?”

“Just a dancer?” Sonny shot back. “I’m not
just
anything, asshole, and maybe you should answer your own question. You’re the one all torn up about a bottom scene you obviously don’t want to do. Maybe you should worry more about yourself than me. Looks like you’re about to get a taste of your own medicine.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, please.” Sonny reached forward, snagging a shiny green apple from the bowl on the desk. The movement caused his shirtsleeves to ride up. Levi caught sight of the script tattoo on his inner bicep. He’d never gotten close enough to read what it said, and now that he was, he could see it wouldn’t have done any good if he had. The whole thing was in a language he didn’t know.

“Please what? You got something you want to say to me, kid?”

“I’m not a kid, dude. I’m twenty-two.”

Levi kept up his sullen, challenging stare. He had four years on Sonny, and he’d been doing porn for even longer. That made Sonny a kid in his book, or at the very least, a cocky little shit who needed to say what he wanted to say or shut the fuck up.

Sonny bit into the apple and chewed thoughtfully. He didn’t seem in any hurry to elaborate. He fiddled with a few things on Jon’s desk, eyeing Levi with a speculative gaze. Levi let the silence hang for a while before he snapped.

“For God’s sake,
what
?” He honestly didn’t know why he was still in the room, let alone allowing a little prick like Sonny to yank his chain.

For his part, Sonny shrugged. “I think it’s ironic that you’re gonna get pounded by Rex. He’s probably the only top here who’s a bigger douche bag than you.”

“Fuckin’ whiny twink bitch,” Levi muttered, as much to himself as to Sonny. “Listen,
kid
. I don’t care what you think of me. I don’t need to get fucked by Rex. I’ve got nothing to prove.”

“Haven’t you? Even if that’s true, seems to me you’ve got a lot to learn. You’ve been here, what? Five years? And you hardly let anyone so much as rim you. What are you? One of those gay-for-pay rejects? Or are you just in denial?”

Sonny’s beautiful face twisted into a sneer. Levi stared at him, wondering how the conversation had taken such a nosedive so quickly. Then again, it hadn’t exactly begun well. “I ain’t no straight-assed punk.”

He shoved his chair back and made to stand. He’d had enough of this shit. He didn’t bottom, but that didn’t make him straight. He’d never so much as looked at a woman or denied his sexuality.

“Prove it.”

Sonny’s words gave him pause. He stopped on his way to the door. “Prove it to who? You? You’re gonna get nailed too, you know. I don’t remember seeing you get fucked on-screen before either.”

“Maybe you haven’t looked hard enough. Besides, I haven’t agreed to anything yet. Your name in the hat put me off.”

“Feeling’s mutual.” Levi turned back to the door, not wanting to admit that Sonny was probably right. He never watched any of the scenes that came out of Blue Boy, not even his own. Hell, especially not his own. Now that he thought about it, he had no idea what Sonny had and hadn’t done on-screen.

Sonny snorted. “Figures.”

“What does?”

“That you’re bailing,” Sonny said. “Everyone round here knows you’re not man enough to take what you’re due. If this ‘whiny twink bitch’ can take Rex, why can’t you? Like you said, I’m the one who’s gonna get it both barrels. Face it, dude.
You’re
the bitch.”

“Whatever.” Levi pushed open the door. Something, though he wasn’t quite sure what, made him turn back. “What is it, exactly, that you think I can’t handle?”

Sonny shrugged. “You’re a selfish top. A bottom is just a piece of ass to you, a hole to drill so you get paid. Have you ever stopped to consider the person you’re throwing around the set?”

Levi scoffed; he couldn’t help it. “You twinks ask for that shit.”

“Yeah, because that’s what we get paid for, what the audience wants. It doesn’t mean we always enjoy it. Have you asked? Or even cared?”

“What makes you such an expert on me?”

“I’ve seen the way you work. The other twinks might think you’re a stud, but I think you’re an ass. I’m not scared of you. I’ll do the scene, but if you think I’m letting you abuse me the way you did Diego last week, you can think again.”

The venom in Sonny’s tone surprised Levi, but his complaint wasn’t without merit. The kid was right when he accused him of never stopping to consider the person attached to the ass he was fucking. To him, that was the point of porn—that it wasn’t personal. To him, it really was just a job. “Yeah, well. Don’t force yourself on my account. There are plenty of bottoms who’d happily take your place.”

“True,” Sonny said. “But I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Trust me, whatever Jon says, Rex’s gonna pound the life out of you, and I’m gonna enjoy every scream that comes out of your arrogant mouth.”

* * * *

Levi drove home in a pissed-off daze. He couldn’t believe he’d let that little prick get under his skin. Jon wanted them to get to know each other, but Levi didn’t need confirmation that Sonny really was the annoying little fuckwit he’d always assumed he was.

And he had the nerve to call me arrogant?

He pulled up outside his apartment block and went inside. It was early evening, and he still had a stack of bikes at the garage to work through, but for some reason, despite showering at the studio, he felt like he needed another. He got cleaned up and headed back out to the small auto shop he co-owned downtown. The place was deserted. AJ, his business partner, was done and gone for the day. Levi unlocked the shutters and let himself in, pulling off his T-shirt and stepping straight into his coveralls. AJ had left him plenty to do. The garage specialized in maintaining custom and vintage motorcycles, and business was good.

A ’77 Triumph Trident kept him busy for a while, but as he worked, he was frustrated to find he couldn’t get his conversation—if you could call it that—with Sonny out of his mind.

“Why are you even here?”

Sonny had spat the words to him as he’d pulled himself together and left the office, but he hadn’t bothered to reply. He didn’t need to.
He
knew why he was there. Why the fuck should he explain it to anyone else, especially that little prick?

Little
. Yeah, right. Somehow, he’d found himself glancing at the unofficial wall of fame on his way out of the studio and discovered that Sonny was in fact anything but. If the wall was to be believed, the kid had a thick eight-inch cock hanging between those muscular dancers’ thighs.

Damn. Since when did he care about the other model’s vital statistics? Life as an exclusive top rendered the size of another man’s dick practically meaningless. Maybe Sonny was right, and he
did
have a lot to learn.

He packed his tools away and spent an hour going over the accounts. AJ was a badass mechanic, but he left the bookkeeping to Levi—a job Levi loved and loathed in equal measure. Loved because the garage turned over a pretty tidy profit, a profit he was ridiculously proud of, but loathed because however much money he made, it wasn’t enough.

“Why are you even here?”

“Because my daddy shot himself, and my momma’s a gambling drunk with more debts than I’ll ever be able to pay.”

Even after all these years, it still sounded pathetically cliché. The garage was supposed to be his ticket out of porn, his ticket away from annoying douche bags like Sonny, but each time he got close something would happen to drag him back. His momma totaled her car just a few months ago, breaking her arm and cracking some ribs. The medical bills had wiped out three years of hard work. AJ often told him he should just leave her to rot. It wasn’t like she cared that he busted his balls to keep a roof over her head, but in his mind, that made him no better than his father. No better than the man who’d blown his brains out in the garden shed without so much as a note.

Levi pushed aside the maudlin thoughts and shoved the box containing the garage accounts back on the shelf. He’d had a long day, and it was getting late. All he wanted was a cold beer, something spicy for dinner, and to crawl into his big, empty bed. On impulse, he backed his truck into the garage and searched out the keys for his battered old Harley XR750. He didn’t ride her much, but today, with the blistering LA summer still burning strong, the freedom of the wind in his face was too good to pass up.

Shame it took him all of six minutes to get home.

He parked the bike and went inside to forage in the refrigerator for dinner. He was a good cook, a skill born of greed more than anything else. It didn’t take him long to throw together some turkey-chili quesadillas.

After, he sat back on the couch and cracked a beer. He stared at the sports channel for a while, but his afternoon at the studio remained on his mind. Usually, even if he spent a few days at a time shooting various scenes, he could still come home and close the door on them all. Occasionally, some buddies from the studio would drag him out to Silver, but other than that, his life as a porn star remained somewhat separate from his real life.

Not today. Today, he couldn’t seem to switch it off. Much of his exchange with Sonny echoed in his mind, but there was one thing in particular.

“Maybe you haven’t looked hard enough…”