How I Became Lotus Raine...the Porn Star (13 page)

“WAIT A MINUTE,” Shepard interrupts. “With this impromptu sex venture, was there time to use protection? Because you didn’t mention it and you and I both know how readers flip if it isn’t addressed.”

I laugh, not at his question per say, but for the fact that what he said is so true. Heaven forbid people get caught up in the moment and don’t think to put a condom on. Or how about the fact that there are just some people out there who don’t use protection. Shocker, I know. The funny part about it is people push aside these real life possibilities while reading a fictional story. It makes absolutely no sense to me. Just freaking go with it folks. If no condom is mentioned, don’t start overthinking the characters morals or where the storyline could be heading. Sex happens and there doesn’t always need to be a condom present, birth control mentioned or the pull out method tested.

BRENT PULLED OUT. He didn’t wait until the very last second to do so either. I was thankful for that. I wasn’t in the position, so to speak, to get messy. And I sure as hell didn’t want to be sitting on a sticky bike the rest of the day. He was able to avoid both by pulling out and twisting his body to the side as he stroked himself the rest of the way off. I happily laid back and watched as his hand tightly gripped his thick cock, completing the journey to ecstasy. My journey wasn’t able to reach completion, but watching as his came to an end was a destination I was more than okay with.

I sat up and adjusted myself as he did the same. Once we were done, we faced one another. He leaned in and smiled. “Thanks,” he said before placing a kiss at the corner of my mouth. I brightly smiled back, feeling genuinely happy. Brent picked up the helmet, placing it back over my head, then turned back around and kicked up the kickstand. I spread my legs, scooting as close to him as possible as I wrapped my hands back around him. He grabbed one of my hands, pulling it up to his lips. “That should hold me over till we get back.” I felt him smile against my skin before kissing it. “And don’t worry. I’ll more than return the favor. Tenfold, baby.” He didn’t have to reassure me. I knew he was in the business of pleasing and luckily for me, I was currently his only client. A shrill of excitement shot through my body and I knew it wasn’t from the motorcycle coming to life beneath me. I knew it was something within me finally coming to life.

We pulled into a smaller town that was filled to the brim with excitement. I watched as swarms of people made their way down the closed off street that was packed with all sorts of covered booths, leaving me to think they had some sort of town festival going on. At first, I figured this was just another drive thru to where we were headed…since I had absolutely no clue where that was. Then Brent pulled up on an untraveled sidewalk, and parked the motorcycle.

I followed him as he got off the motorcycle and for a moment, I just stared at him, fully appreciating just how good he was looking in his dark jeans and white fitted tee. The shades he was wearing didn’t hurt the ensemble either. He grabbed my hand, linking our fingers and asked, “What?” as I continued staring. I shook my head and told him nothing. There was no need for me to vocalize how good I thought he looked. He already knew.

The bright sun kissed my skin as we strolled down the street, holding hands. It wasn’t a foreign feeling as I expected it to be. I figured the sex part was the only thing that would had come naturally between us, and anything else would feel awkward and out of place, but it didn’t. I was starting to think that Brent had this superhuman power of comfortability that he expanded out to me.

“Life is all about finding the beauty in things,” he began as we walked between booths filled with breathtaking art and walls filled with colorful graffiti. He stopped us and faced the old covered concrete wall. “Not many people can look at this and see the same creativity that most see in something that’s skillfully framed as this.” He turns us back towards the booth. “But sometimes beauty is formed out of the chaos. Sometimes it takes an artist an insurmountable amount of time and extreme trial and error to find his niche’ or to discover their true talent. The same people who will spend countless time trying to depict what a painting on a wall speaks to them, are the same ones who will walk with their noses tilted up at something that they aren’t willing to understand. Unbeknownst to them, they belong to the same creator.”

I pulled my hand from his as I walked up to the wall for a closer look. I wanted to see the beauty in it. Not that I ever saw it as something unbeautiful, I’ve just never taken the time to search the unobvious. Life is filled with the unobvious. People hardly take the time to seek out more than what’s apparent. Just like how easily people judge one another based on appearance. When in all reality, what we look like is a misrepresentation of who we are within.

Trying to make sense of what the artist was attempting to visually speak was impossible. I wasn’t in the
“analyzing the meaning of art”
line of work anyway. It was deep. Too deep for me to grasp. I wasn’t an artist and I had a feeling only artists could understand one another. That they speak in code or some sort of universal language through colors and brushes that the rest of us could only wish to comprehend.

But it didn’t mean I couldn’t see the beauty it captured. It wasn’t the typical bubbled letter/ gang sign graffiti you’d commonly see lacing downtown walls. To me, this piece screamed local artist. Someone this town knew was talented and took such pride as to allow him/her to put his/her stamp on one of their walls for the public to take pride in.

I turned around, facing Brent. I stood momentarily in awe at what he just allowed me to experience. Then something behind him caught my eye and I took a few steps closer to inspect the framed art even further. I did a few glances back and forth between the framed work and the unruly one on the wall before it clicked. It was the same piece—only the framed one had been perfected. It was more defined and carefully painted out in a splay of blues and yellows. It was simply breathtaking. But just as much as I wanted to now purchase it and hang it proudly on a wall, I wished I could frame up the old concrete wall as well to have them hang side by side.

White initials that almost blended in took me by surprise as our little talk from last night came back to the forefront of my mind. Then the whole reason we were there made sense.

“You painted these,” I breathlessly stated in amazement.

A KNOCK AT the door interrupts us.

“That’s probably our lunch,” Shepard says as he stands and makes his way to the door. Before he reaches it, the door swings open and Rachel comes barreling in with our bag in tow.

“I have a HO-livery,” she says with a devious smile. Who does this bitch think she is? Ludacris?

“Must be for you then,” I say, unamused by her lameness.

“No. It says right here on the ticket…extra sauce.”

I roll my eyes and stand. She’s obviously here to start shit.

“You need to leave, Rachel,” Shepard says trying to grab the bag from her. She pulls her arm back, refusing him to do so.

I stand right in front of her with Shepard facing both of us from the side. I prop my hands on my hips and hold Rachel’s gaze as I speak.

“It’s okay, Shepard. Rachel here is just jealous.” She gasps and I continue, knowing I’ve hit my mark. “She’s jealous because the only extra sauce she’s still getting is from her married boss.” Her eyes take on a maniacal appearance as she damn near turns into Satan incarnate. I swear at one point I saw smoke seep from her ears. Her grip on the bag loosens and Shepard’s able to catch it before it hits the floor.

Rachel then storms out, slamming the door behind her.

“I take it that’s a sore subject for her,” Shepard shrugs with a smile.

“The only thing that’s sore is probably her knees.” I laugh and Shepard does as well as we make our way back to his desk.

“I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed her speechless,” he says while handing me my sandwich.

“I have a feeling the only person who gets that luxury is the same person who momentarily shuts her up with his cock.” I lift a brow before taking a bite.

“Exactly. No one around here can complain about her or they get fired.”

“Maybe someone should tell his wife. Mess his little world up some. Might teach him a lesson,” I offer out for encouragement. “It could even be anonymous. Or hell, give me some actual proof and I’ll do it. I have nothing to lose.” I’ve been wanting to stick it to the man for long enough. I’m not all about revenge or eye for an eye. But who’s to say that sometimes we can’t give karma the nudge it needs?

Shepard sits back in his chair, debating it—over analyzing it. I can tell he thinks it’s a clever plan, but I also see it worries him. He isn’t much of a risk taker and something like that could be putting everything he’s worked for on the line.

“Sounds like the deal of a lifetime. But I just can’t take the risk of it backfiring. I’m not in the position to be looking for another job.”

“You can fail at what you don’t want…so you might as well take a chance on doing what you love.”

“What’s that?” Shepard sits up with interest.

“It’s something I heard Jim Carrey say recently and it makes hella sense. He talked about how his dad could have been this incredible comedian, but didn’t want to risk it because he had a family depending on him. He played it safe and got a job as an accountant only to be let go later on.” I take my last bite and crumble my paper into a ball. “Something I’ve found out through all of this is that life is full of risks and missed opportunities. For us thinkers who overthink every single aspect of life and what it entails, we’re usually the ones who miss out. It’s in the moments we allow ourselves to just go with it and deal with the consequences or reward later, that take us a step closer to our destination.”

“That makes sense. And the whole idea behind it is brilliant. But what if this is my only chance? Working here might be the only way I can reach my goal.” Self-doubt mocks his features and a bit of defeat as he gathers our trash and throws it away.

“I’m not going to sugar coat life for you, Shepard. I’m sure we’ve both seen our unfair share of it. But what I do want to say is open your eyes and your horizon will broaden. If you see an opportunity, don’t be afraid to explore it. Do not put yourself in a box. Your dream is worth the risk and possibly the failure.”

“SO, WHERE WERE we?” Shepard shifts his notes around and grabs a pen.

“Last thing I told you about was finding out that Brent was a brilliant artist.”

“That’s right. So, what did the rest of your day consist of?”

“It was actually pretty normal. Well, besides all the sex and him claiming another first.” I laugh and can feel my cheeks slightly heat from the mere memory.

“Oh. Is that so?” Shepard asks, and I nod. “So, you still hadn’t told him what he had claimed and hadn’t claimed yet?” I nod again. “What about that list you’ve mentioned?” He glances through his notes then looks back up. “That list you and Reggie put together.”

“Well, that list is mainly a list that would all be firsts. Things that I’ve wanted to try, experience and or one day achieve.”

“I guess Brent was unknowingly crossing them off.”