How I Became Lotus Raine...the Porn Star (29 page)

“So, our first initial hook up was all a part of your plan, too?” I couldn’t hide the defensiveness in my voice.

“No, not at all.” He grabbed my hand placing a kiss on it, reassuring me. “I could have never anticipated that to happen. All that did was just confirm my initial thoughts about you—it confirmed my gut feeling I had.”

“Which was what? That I was a slut? That had to be what you had thought since I did end up with you in a public restroom without even knowing your name.” His words didn’t comfort me at all. In fact made me feel the complete opposite. Like shit.

He let out a soft chuckle at the girl in me rearing her ugly little side. “Actually quite the opposite.”

“Why then? Why’d you choose me?” I leaned on my hand, propping my head up to be face to face with him. Brent’s words caused me to smile inwardly and joy flooded through me knowing that he picked me. Then that joy turned to irritation, realizing my sleazy boss has made me believe it was his decision.

What. An. Asshole.

“Simple.” He pushed a piece of hair behind my ear, tugging it before he released it. “I didn’t want to spend the last week I had with someone that’s just like all the women I’ll be working with. I wanted to experience something different. And you're different.”

“I’ve enjoyed the experience, too. It’s been very, umm, eye opening to say the least
.”
I blushed, feeling shy for some reason.

“You’re an amazing girl. You just needed someone to push their way inside you.”

“You pushed your way inside alright,” I teased, pushing back on his shoulder. I had to steer the mood in another direction. Far, far away direction. I couldn't let it turn into a sappy goodbye speech.

“SO, ARE YOU saying that nothing that happened between you guys happened by accident? That in fact, Brent had actually sought you out?” Shepard cuts in.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. He had planned everything without me ever knowing. Hell, he never knew what would actually come from any of it. How could he? But what I’m saying is some things happen unintentionally that take us to where we are meant to be and then sometimes people interfere and push their way in and persuade us without us ever knowing until after the fact.” I sit back and smile. This interview is close enough to being over that I can clue Shepard in. “Do you think this is all a coincidence? That you finally got a break?” I watch as he shifts uncomfortably, and his face drops. I feel bad that I might have just popped his hope filled balloon. I sit up, staring at him until he looks back up at me. “I picked you Shepard. They called me wanting to do this interview and I told them I’d do it, but only if it was with you.”

“Why?” he manages to ask without getting that I was once him. That I’m here to free him from himself and this damn job.

“Because I don’t want you to limit yourself anymore. If you want to continue here going nowhere fast or ever, than that’s your prerogative. But I don’t think that’s the case. I saw the disappointment in your face that I know used to be mine every time our meetings would wrap up and we’d be left with the same assignments as always.” I place my hands on my old desk and lightly tap them, momentarily letting some of what I said sink in before continuing. He’s deep in thought knowing that I’m right, but not knowing the point of all of this. I point toward his notes and the tape recorder. “This is me giving you my permission to take what you’ve got from me today and to do what you like with it. You have more potential than this place will ever give you credit for. I know your ultimate goal is to be one of their authors here. Take my fucking story and write it. Don’t let these people take the credit for something that can open so many doors for you.” I sit back in my seat and let out a heavy breathe.

“Is that even legal?” he asks taking my offer into consideration.

“Shepard, it’s my story that I’m sitting here telling you about. I have the right to decide on who I want to get to put their name on it, right?” He nods and I can see the wheels turning in his head. “If I get the choice, I want it to be you. I know you’ll put more into it than anyone else, plus you’re the one doing the damn interview in the first place, meaning you’d have more to add to it. I’m just giving you the chance to become more. Do what you want with it, but I have a story to finish.”

SHORTLY AFTER BRENT’S confession to me in bed, he hopped out to shower. Big day and all. He asked me to join him and I fought off the tempting offer and declined. It was the hardest thing I had done in the whole week of knowing him. I wanted him one last time. I wanted to feel him in me, lips all over me, one last time. But instead of delaying the inevitable, I snuck out. But not before pulling the sheet off the covered canvas sitting in his room.

My breath hitched as tears pricked my eyes. I stared at myself for what felt like an eternity. Not only did he capture my appearance, but the state I was in. Without my knowledge Brent had recreated the tattoo he had drawn for me, but instead of birds being set free from the cage, it was me. He painted me, one hand on the open door, other on the opening, pushing my way out. The only thing left inside the cage was my foot, which was colored differently than the rest of my body that had emerged its way out. It was absolutely breathtaking. The meaning behind it is what stole my breath.

One week was all it took. He might not have known everything there was to know about me, but he gathered everything that was of importance and managed to figure out who I was within it all. Between all the unfinished pieces and scribbly lines, he found me and helped me find myself along the way. And for that, I’m thankful.

I might not have gotten the guy, but I had gotten myself in return. And with that I was able to accept what was about to take place. I was able to leave this situation and Brent with a better outlook on life. And with that, there was no way I could regret any of it—coincidence, set up, whatever the case may be…best two weeks of my life.

Before I could cry over the portrait, the situation or hearing the shower turning off, I left.

I push open the door, running right into Rachel. Go figure. I curse under my breath.

“You look sick, Lucy. Are you not feeling well?” She cocked her head to the side, giving me an evil grin. The thought of strangling her crossed my mind. But then I thought better of it since going to prison isn’t on my list.

My list…the one Brent helped me cross off.

“Here. You might need the address.” The evil diva dripped with pure satisfaction as she handed me a ripped piece of paper.

I didn’t dare look out at it until I left. I didn’t want her to gain anymore enjoyment. The idea that they were filming there enlivened me and made me sick. I knew it was all Rachel. She liked the idea of torturing me. To her, it’d be her getting the last laugh. But boy would she be wrong.

That morning I showed up at the offices of Mitchell Publishing and headed straight for the conference room. I thought I was strong, but seeing the cameras and then the bed, perfectly made to be perfectly messed up, had my stomach in knots. I scanned my surroundings slowly. I figured the whole idea of filming it at work was all a part of Rachel’s cruel plan. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she was the one who was going to be taping with him, I’d forever be reminded of it every time we had one of our weekly meetings.

All the blinds along the exterior wall are open, while the ones facing the inside of the building were secured shut. I assumed they were going for the whole natural light effect having the outer ones opened.

I was so glad I hadn’t seen Brent yet. Now that I was there, about to witness what he did for a living, live and in front of my face, I wasn’t sure how well I’d actually be able to handle it. I was starting to feel like a woman who had just found her lover in a compromising position.

But he was my lover. And that idea saddened me.

I knew I’d never be the same again after our week together. I knew I couldn’t go back to the reserved girl I was. But the thought of being in the sack, against the wall, in a club restroom, with anyone other than Brent, almost had me running to find him so I could tell him I changed my mind and could handle it. That we could continue whatever it was we had while he continued getting paid to fuck random women. Then I said that in my head and almost laughed out loud. It was ridiculous.

No sharing. No way was I willing to.

I looked at my watch and let out a breath of relief seeing that I had time to use the bathroom. Not that I actually had to use it. I just needed to regroup. Get out of the room a porn with a guy I’ve been sleeping with is about to shoot in. I’m not sure why I thought any of this would work out in the end. Work out in the sense that it’d be easy for me to part ways without a second glance or extra beat in my heart as we said our final goodbyes.

This sucks. I thought as washed my hands wanting to get this day over with. All I wanted to feel was Brent all over me, and instead he was about to be all over Rachel. God, how I hated her.

I took the seat front and center that they had for me. They had me and a few others positioned around the conference table. I felt uncomfortable and dirty. Like I was a sick peeping Tom or something. I was about to be invading something that should be private and intimate between two people. Not fully exposed for ten pairs of eyes to watch as its happening and then the rest of the world to after the fact. It felt wrong and I felt like I was a violator.

Rachel walks out wearing practically her every day work garb. She’s wearing a black pencil skirt with a button up silk blouse. Her fire hydrant red bra is completely visible from every angle as her shirt is completely see through and the front is only buttoned at the very bottom that tucked into her skirt.

There was no porny music like I had expected.

Shortly after Rachel walked in, Brent did as well. I unintentionally gasped as he entered the room. He’d cut his hair. It was short and messy on the top. It was hot and pissed me off because I wanted to be the one pushing my hands through it and tugging on the ends. Without stopping, he quickly tossed me a pack of mini Starbursts. He glanced back over his shoulder, making eye contact with me and giving me a wink before turning his eyes away. Fucking Starbursts and his fucking sweet gestures.

I groaned. I really wished there was music right now. I had the strong urge to stand up and yell,
“More cowbell, please. We need more cowbell.”

Damn, I was going to need earplugs or something to drown out the sounds. I wasn’t going to be able to stomach hearing his thrusts as he smacks into her, or the moans she let out each time. I didn’t want to hear the dirty words that were sure to fly out of her mouth. I just really wanted to leave. But then I remembered her rubbing it in my face moments ago and instead of booking it, I sat up a bit taller and forced my eyes on where they stood.

Brent was fully clothed, in a pair of dress slacks and white button up. For that, I was thankful. I couldn’t hear what they were saying from where I was sitting. And for that, I was thankful as well.

I watch as she makes the first move. I always knew she was the type to throw herself at men. Now I get to witness it firsthand.

Work was never going to be the same.

Rachel begins the corny dialogue.

“I have those figures you wanted, Mr. Storm.”

She grips her hands into his shirt, tugging him closer to her. He seems tense. I like it.

“Just set them on my desk.” He tried to turn away, seeming uninterested.

She rubbed her hands up and down his sides, lifting his shirt as she did. He kept his arms at his sides, not moving them. Not touching her, only letting her touch him.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else I could do for you?” she asked seductively, trailing her hand down the front of his chest.

I sat up a little more in my chair, leaning forward as I read into every movement he didn’t make. He wasn’t being himself. He wasn’t acting like the man he was with me. Hell, he wasn’t even acting like the man I had watched on all his previous porn movies.

Something was different. Something was off.

Could what we had have shifted his demeanor…changed him and not just me?