Edible: The Sex Tape (2 page)

She smiles as she shakes her head. “Okay, show me your bird.”

I grab the handle on the top of the cage and lead Bridget into the living room. “Just have a seat. I’ll be right back. I have to wash up or Killer might mistake my hand for prey.” I return from the bedroom a few minutes later with clean hands and two leather gloves. “Put this on your left hand.”

She pulls the glove over her left hand then stares at Killer as I begin undoing the latches on the bottom of the cage. I swiftly pull the entire top of the four-foot tall cage upward and she yelps when he immediately spreads his giant wings and takes flight. I laugh as she latches onto my arm, shivering as she watches Killer fly off to his perch in the corner.

“Just do me a favor and watch him. I have to get one of his toys on the balcony.”

“You want me to watch him!”

“Just for a second. Just stand next to his perch and if he starts to flap his wings, hold your arm up—the one with the glove—and he won’t try to get past you.”

I pull open the doors leading to the balcony and, as expected, Bridget yelps as Killer flaps his wings and takes off. I duck so he can fly over me and out into the dusky Vegas sunset.

“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!” she cries.

I suppress my smile and instead put on a faux irate expression, then I turn to face her. “I told you to watch him.”

“I didn’t know what to do! Oh, shit! Will he come back? Oh, my God. I’m so sorry!”

“That bird is priceless. It’s the only trained eagle in a Vegas show.”

“But you’re the one who opened the door.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Are you saying this is my fault?”

“Well… yeah. I mean, I’m not a fucking bird babysitter. How could you even trust me to watch your pet eagle?”

I stare at her for a moment dumbfounded. Every time I do the bird trick on a girl, she always blames herself. But Bridget has quickly turned the tables on me.

I hold my left arm up in front of me and Killer swoops in through the door and lands on my gloved fist.

Bridget glares at me from across the room. “You knew he was coming back?”

“That’s what he does.”

“You’re a jerk!”

“Oh, come on. You had to know he’d come back. That’s what he’s trained to do.” I smile at her and she just stares at me, her eyes wide with fury. But I’m more concerned with the fact that Killer looks restless, flapping his wings as he pecks my leather glove with his razor sharp beak. “Look, I’m sorry if I worried you, but can you please give me a hand? There’s a bowl of raw steak in the fridge. Can you bring it here and help me feed him?”

She glares at me for a moment, then she heads for the kitchen and retrieves a large glass bowl from the refrigerator. She places the bowl on the coffee table and removes the plastic wrap. She catches a whiff of the meat and cringes as she turns away from it.

“Ew! What is that smell?”

“It’s snake meat. It’s his favorite.”

It takes Bridget a few minutes to warm up to him, but soon she has Killer eating out of her hand. And she’s giddy over it.

“He’s just a big baby,” she says, scratching his belly as I toss a piece of snake flesh into his beak. “Yes, you are. You’re just a big baby.”

“Don’t get too friendly with him. Killer’s a notorious mama’s boy. If you treat him like a baby, he’ll never leave your side.” She laughs as she reaches for a piece of meat and holds her hand out for him to take it. “I’m serious. Before he started working with me, he was thirty-seven years old, in bird years, and still living in his mother’s basement nest.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“That’s what I said to him the first time I met him. Trust me, you do
not
want to live in a
basement
nest. It’s disgusting.”

She smiles at me and suddenly I can’t breathe. Something about this girl is different. It’s not just the fact that she’s the only girl who’s been brave enough to feed and pet Killer. Maybe it’s the way the light sparkles in her blonde hair or the way she makes me feel like I’m hanging out with a friend, not a conquest. I don’t know what it is, but I want to stay here and figure it out.

Once Killer is fed and he’s back in his cage, I check the clock and realize I’m twenty minutes late for sound check. I already have four voicemails and eleven missed calls. I turn my phone off and tuck it into my pocket. Then I pull the black cloth over the cage so Killer can rest. He’ll be happy to have a night off.

“
W
hy did
Barry have a family emergency in Montana?” I say, taking a seat in the chair across from the ex-girlfriend who makes a cobra look friendly. “Did you kill one of Barry’s kids so you could see me today?”

“You’re unbelievable. You’d think that planet-sized ego of yours would have deflated just a tiny bit while your prison boyfriend was pounding you in the ass.”

“Hey, I don’t know what you heard, but there was none of that going on in there. I’m not anyone’s bitch.”

“Don’t make me pull up the sex tape link.”

“Well, not anymore I’m not,” I clarify. “But of course I was your bitch. You’ll always be my Birdie whether you like it or not. You can’t quit Max Milan. That’s like trying to quit breathing.”

“Still referring to yourself in the third person? Are you
ever
going to grow up? Because I got a phone call from a Hakkasan promoter last week asking if I’d been in contact with Max Milan.”

“They called
you
?”

“Yes, they called
me
. And I promised Barry I’d let him know whether prison had matured you. Barry and Hakkasan don’t want anything to do with you if you’re going to pull anything like the stunt you pulled two years ago.”

I let out a hearty laugh. “
You’re
supposed to determine whether I’m mature enough? Are you fucking kidding me? I mean, I’m sorry, babe, but that’s not really fair to you. Couldn’t they at least get someone who has the
slightest
chance of resisting me?”

“You’re a real piece of work.”

“You’re the artist who painted me. Revel in your creation, sweetheart.”

“Are you ever going to take responsibility for what happened?”

“Are
you
ever going to take responsibility for what happened? I did twenty-two months of hard time and you never came to see me once. Never tried to apologize to me.”

“It wasn’t my fault that you couldn’t keep your dick in your tight designer jeans!”

“I wouldn’t have ever gotten the idea to make a sex tape with Kyla if you hadn’t convinced me to make that sex tape with you!”

“
Convinced
you? I don’t remember you needing that much convincing.”

“Sweetie, I know you’re getting old, but your memory can’t be
that
bad.”

She picks up a pen off her desk and hurls it at me. “Asshole!”

I duck and the pen hits the wall behind me. “Listen, Bridget—”

“Don’t call me Bridget. My name is Elara.”

“Whatever. Listen, Birdie, I know you want to take credit for signing me and you want the commission from the deal with Hakkasan. So I’m willing to let go of all this shit between us to help you out. Just apologize for swindling me into making that sex tape and I’ll sign with you.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” she huffs, shaking her head.

“Fine. Since you’ve obviously forgotten how this all went down, how about I refresh your memory. It all started when I came home from a show on April 26
^th
.”

“You remember the date?”

“Of course I remember the date. It’s stamped on the fucking video.” I reach down and adjust my balls in my jeans, partly because my designer jeans are a little too tight, but mostly because I know it will divert her attention to my goods. “Now, if you’ll remember, you were laid out on top of the bar, naked, with fucking whipped cream and a cherry on your muff.”

She tears her eyes away from my crotch and looks up at me. “There was no cherry.”

“Yes, there was, because I remember putting the cherry in your mouth while I licked every bit of whipped cream off your freshly waxed skin.”

She stares at me for a moment, lost in the memory of my mouth on her, then she draws in a sharp breath and focuses. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Birdie, this is your job. And your job is to determine whether or not I’ve matured. If we’re going to work together after today, then I think we need to set things straight once and for all.”

She leans back in her chair and closes her eyes. “Fine.”

I lean back in my chair and get comfortable. “Where was I? Oh, yeah, I was making you come.”

B
irdie must have had
a spa day today. Her pussy is freshly waxed, her hands are manicured, and she always wants to have sex immediately after she’s had a massage. Which is exactly why I encourage her to utilize the hotel spa as often as she wants.

I lick the last bit of whipped cream off her sweet pussy, then I spread her lips to get at her clit. She moans as I devour her. Her hips squirm beneath me, her skin squeaking as it rubs against the shiny granite bar top. Then she pushes me away and presses her thighs together.

“What are you doing?”

She sits up and grabs the front of my T-shirt as she slides forward on the bar. “I don’t want to come yet.”

She wraps her legs around me and I smile as I slide my fingers inside her wet pussy. “It’s kind of late for that.”

She pulls my hand out from between her legs and places it on her waist. “I’m serious. I want to hold off for now.”

“Why?”

She flashes me that sly, sexy grin that always gives me an insta-boner. “I want to do something different tonight.” Wrapping her arms around my neck, she leans forward and takes my bottom lip between her teeth, tugging a bit. “I want to do something naughty.”

I brush aside a piece of a blonde hair that’s stuck to her lipgloss and look her in the eye. “What do you want to do, baby?”

She lays her hands flat against my chest and pushes me back a little so she can slide off the bar. Then she kneels down in front of me and begins unbuckling my belt.

“I want to do something we’ve never done,” she says, unbuttoning my jeans and sliding the zipper down.

“No offense, babe, but I think we’ve done this at least a thousand times.”

She lets out a throaty chuckle that makes my boner twitch. Pulling down my jeans and boxers, she smiles at the sight of my erection just inches from her mouth. She leans forward and I hold my breath as she plants a slow, sensual kiss on the tip. One of my favorite things about Bridget is how she starts a blow job by making out with my cock.

I resist the urge to grab the back of her head and plunge my dick into her mouth. Instead, I lean my back against the bar and try to focus on not blowing my load too early. But it’s not so easy when Bridget knows exactly what turns me on the most. She knows exactly how long to stimulate the tip before she takes me into her mouth. And she knows exactly how long and how fast to bob her head, and when to ease up, to prolong and maximize the pleasure.

Communication. You hear that, fellas?
Communication
. Tell your girl exactly how to give you a blow job and let her tell you exactly how to eat her pussy and your sex life will improve exponentially. ‘Cause let’s face it, the best sex is oral sex. Even when it’s not that good, it’s still amazing. But when you get oral sex from someone who not only knows what they’re doing, but they enjoy it, life is good.

And my life is pretty fucking great. I’ve got a girlfriend who gives the best fucking blow job on the planet. A job that I love, which also happens to pay me eight figures. I live in a city that never sleeps because the party never ends in Vegas. I’m twenty-four years old and millions of women all over the world pleasure themselves to thoughts of me. So you’d better believe when my hot-as-fuck girlfriend says she wants to try something naughty, I’m all ears.

She takes my cock into her mouth and immediately goes for the gusto, pulling me all the way in until the tip prods the back of her throat. I smile as her eyes widen. I expect her to pull my dick out of her mouth, but instead she pushes it even farther back. This activates her gag reflex and her eyes begin to water.

I grab her hair to pull her head back, even though it feels so fucking warm and tight inside her throat, but she bats my hand away. What the fuck is she doing? I can see her chest convulsing as she attempts to hold my dick inside her throat without gagging. But she keeps one hand firmly gripped around the base of my cock so I can’t move.

“What are you doing?”

Her eyes stream tears as she moves her head back and forth ever so slightly. The sight of her struggling is a little scary but also really fucking erotic, I can’t prolong this. I twist my fingers through her blonde hair and come hard into her throat. She slowly slides my cock out a little so I can finish letting go inside her mouth. When I’m done, her face is red from not getting enough oxygen, but she just smiles as she licks her lips. She isn’t finished with me.

She kisses my abdomen just above my dick, then she slowly works her way up my six-pack abs and over my rippled chest. “I want to record us having sex,” she whispers in my ear.

“What?” I ask, not sure I heard her correctly.

She chuckles softly in my ear and her breath sends a shiver through me. “I want a video of us having sex.” She wraps her fingers around my cock and it begins to harden again. “I want to see what it looks like when your cock is moving in and out of my pussy.” She slides my erection between her legs and uses the friction of her thighs to get me excited. “I want to see what it looks like when you come on my face.”

“Oh, fuck.” I grab her ass as I swing my hips back and forth, rubbing my cock between her luscious thighs. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Birdie. That shit can get out and that’s how careers are ruined. But holy shit, I want to fuck you so bad right now. Where did you learn to deep throat it like that?”

“I was watching some porn while you were gone. I want to do it. I want to record us.” She massages my balls as I slide my dick in and out of her thighs. “Do this for me, Max. And I won’t ask you for anything else. Pleeeeease, baby. Fuck me on camera so we can watch it while we’re fucking. It will be so hot.” She steps back and grabs the base of my cock. “I’ll deep throat you on camera
and
I’ll do that one thing you love so much.”

She wiggles her eyebrows and my dick stands at full attention at this suggestion.

“Well, how the fuck am I supposed to say no to that? Go get the camera and get that sweet ass back here, stat!”

She smiles and immediately lets go of my erection. “I’ll be right back.”