How I Became Lotus Raine...the Porn Star (21 page)

I wasn’t sure where, but I knew I had to have it on my body.

“Well?” he impatiently asked. Like he couldn’t tell just by my reaction.

“It’s amazing, Brent.” I glanced back and forth between him and the drawing. “I really don’t know what to say.”

“Say you love it.”

“That doesn’t even justify what I feel for it.” I started to get a little teary eyed. “Tell me this is really how you see me.”

I stared back down and got lost in the meaning. The picture contained a metal birdhouse, antique in color. The two doors were swung open with the bird partially flying out. All in all, that simple notion represented freedom. But that wasn’t where it ended. What struck me the most was the coloring. The bird’s origin of color had been white. Its long white tail still rested in the cage. But the rest of its body, everything outside of the cage, were so vibrant in color. The bird was no longer the same caged bird it had been as soon as it escaped its cage. Just like me. I’m not the same person I was last week. I haven’t fully evolved by any means, but it’s a process. Soon, I’d be able to pull the rest of myself from the cage I had made, and shut the doors for good.

“The only thing I did was open the doors for you. You’re responsible for the rest.” His knuckled grazed my cheek.

“Sometimes we can be our own worst enemies, huh?” I sniffled.

“Yes. But once you realize you’re your greatest ally, you start putting more faith in yourself.”

There he went again. He was a porn star, Casanova, mind reader, and a philosopher.

“Let me paint you,” he begged, sitting up with excitement.

I picked up my sandwich and took a bit, eyeing him like he was crazy.

“Didn’t we already do that this morning?”

“No. Not like that. Let me actually paint a portrait of you.”

I eyed him even more like he’d just lost his damn mind. He had to have been crazy if he thought I was portrait worthy.

“Please,” he begged and I really liked the sound. “It’s been a while since I’ve painted and between finger painting this morning and drawing your tattoo, I have this urge to do so.”

“Okay. Then we can go to the lake later, and you can capture the sunset.” I took another bite, hoping that changed his mind.

“You don’t get it, Lucy.” He sighed as he took my plate and sat it down, and then grabbed my hands. “Not only did I imagine what you’d look like bare and beneath me the first time I saw you. I also pictured how fucking gorgeous you’d look flaunting your sexy curves as I tried my damndest to recreate the masterpiece that is you, knowing nothing could compare to the original.”

Like I’ve said, that man has a raw talent when it comes to words.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” I innocently replied trying to hold all proof of my giddiness.

He smiled as he leaned in, “What am I going to do with you?” Brent breathed against my lips as he held his forehead to mine.

“I guess paint my portrait.” I pressed my lips to his, needing to physically feel our connection.

“I LOVE EVERYTHING about what your tattoo represents. I love the fact that Brent is responsible for it, even more,” Shepard openly admits. “The fact that your transformation wasn’t just obvious to you, but that also he claimed a small sense of ownership in it all, knowing his presence essentially opened the cage doors, is impressive.”

“I fully agree. I don’t think we as individuals need to change who we are to get to where we want in life. That’s not what my story is about. With me, it’s the fact that I hid who I really was for so long. Not personality wise, because I think that’s somewhat engrained into our DNA. But more as the things we are willing to do or not do. I had spent so much of my life worried than any slight thing I did sexually, would be my downfall to becoming my mother. Brent was just able to show me that wasn’t the case. Of course he had a little help along the way.”

“Okay, so the painting. How did it feel posing? Was it awkward?”

“I felt like Rose from Titanic,” I laugh.

Shepard laughs as well. “Does that mean you were nude?”

“Of course I was. But tastefully so.”

“What did he end up doing with it?” he asks curiously.

“Well, hung it up of course…in his room.”

“SO, I HAVEN’T heard much about Reggie lately. Where has she been during all of this? Did she feel weird about the situation and keep her distance? Or was it just a conflict of schedule that kept her away?”

“Reggie and I talked every day, whether it was an actual phone call or text. But like I previously said, not every single detail throughout each day would be mentioned—unless it’s needed for story purposes. But Thursday she did come over. And I was glad because I was needing my girl time fix…even if it were us sitting on my bed, watching porn together.”

I HADN’T WATCHED any of the DVD’s I was sent there with since Tuesday. I didn’t see the point, but I was sure they weren’t expecting me to gain my own personal knowledge of how Brent was in the sack. We’d become closer the last few days, so even if I wanted to watch them for ‘research purposes,’ there was no way I’d do it with him around. His presence turned me on enough; I didn’t need him seeing what watching him on the screen did to me.

But Brent had a meeting he had to attend and for confidentiality purposes and all, I wasn’t allowed to go. I thought it was stupid. How secretive could some porn meeting actually be? But I shrugged it off and grabbed one of his DVD’s, thinking what the hell, as I put one in. Fifteen minutes into the action my phone rang and I didn’t even bother to pause the movie. “Hey,” I answered, knowing it was Reggie.

“Oh whoa. Hey, if you guys are busy, I can call you back at a better time.”

I laughed at her and the fact that she thought I’d actually answer the phone while getting it on. I loved her, but I wasn’t that dedicated.

“Crazy whore. I’m not participating. Just watching.” I throw a handful of popcorn in my mouth.

“You’re watching fucking, and yet I’m the crazy whore? Classic.”

“When the shoe fits,” I teased between chews.

“Keep the porn going; I’m bringing my whorish-self over.”

“I’ll make more popcorn.” I pressed end and dropped my phone on the side table.

Thirty minutes later, Reggie sat next to me on my bed, shoving popcorn in her mouth as we watched Brent and all his sexiness. I tried to keep a straight face and not allow her to see how it affected me, but my thoughts would roam. I’d see him grabbing the chick’s tits and sucking her nipple between his teeth and I could feel it. I knew what every single touch of his felt like and watching it was only making me feel like it was really happening. As he fingered her, I clenched my thighs. I wanted to pause the movie, but that would arouse suspicion of my arousal.

“So,” Reggie breaks the silence between us. “I have to know how good it is. Because watching him on TV has my pussy in heat.”

“All I can say is that it’s definitely as good as it looks,” I sighed, wanting him there, touching me. “Actually, better.”

“I was afraid of that.” She grabbed more popcorn, filling her mouth. “You’re a lucky bitch,” she whined.

“Who’s lucky?” I heard the deep voice that I’d been craving from my bedroom doorway. I scurried across my bed, desperate to find the remote and hide what we were watching. Brent and Reggie just watched my failed attempt.

“Lucy is one lucky bitch,” she repeated. I jumped off my bed to just manually turn my TV off. But before I could, I heard something that had me laughing my ass off.

“Did that lady just call you a wild pussy eater?” I spotted the remote on the floor and grabbed it; skipping it back to make sure I heard her right. I mean, from personal experience I know it’s true. But to hear someone yell it out during an actual taping has me laughing.

I pressed play and turned the volume up.

The lady who was supposed to be portraying a milf, screamed and withered beneath him as his tongue performed an epic solo between her legs.

“Yes, yes. Right there. Eat it. Eat that pussy.” Her legs clenched around his head. “You wild pussy eater,” she laughed out as he went to town.

“That lady is ugly,” Reggie voiced what I had been thinking. Maybe I’m too much of a superficial person, but I could never have sex or even kiss someone I wasn’t attracted to. “You get absolutely no say so, do you?” She looked over at Brent who made his way into my room and sat on the edge of my bed. He grabbed a handful of popcorn and it made me laugh as he joined us.

“No. But the directors do have certain standards, knowing what sells. But as actors, when money’s involved and you agree to the job, you don’t get to be picky about it. I mean the more known you become, the more you tend to get paired with people that are highly known as well. And they typically look better than that.” He pointed toward the TV. “But that was when I had just gotten into it. And she looked better in person,” he shrugged.

“Let me guess,” Reggie said. “The camera adds ten pounds of ugly.”

I laughed as I crawled up the bed, sitting between the two as we continued watching in awe and disgust at the same time. When it was only showing Brent I felt the heat of my body rising, then it’d cut to her and I’d become frigid.

“I swear that lady is related to Bologna Barb,” I pointed out, knowing Reggie’s the only one who’d get my Pitch Perfect dig.

“Oh my gosh. YES. Those things look like saucers on her droopy tits.”

“DID IT NOT bother you watching him have sex with other women?” Shepard asks out of curiosity.

I shift to the side, crossing my legs. “Well, of course it did. But it was part of my job. And we weren’t together. Not that being together could change the past hundred or so women he’s been paid to sleep with or the one’s he had while off the clock. As much as I didn’t like it, I knew beforehand what I was getting myself into before it got too deep. I knew before feelings were blatantly involved, I was going to have to see this assignment through. I knew it all wrapped up with the live taping of him coming out of retirement and I was required front and center to watch that Monday. I knew that one would leave me with a gaping hole in my heart and I had no way of avoiding it.”