He closed the distance between us, setting one hand in the small of my back and the other on my cheek. “I’m going to kiss you again, and then you’re going to come home with me.”
I was thrilled, but I tried to play it cool. “That’s presumptuous.”
“It’s a fact, Nina.”
I shivered. “Oh, really?”
“Really. There’s an enormous puddle of coolant under this car. It’s not going anywhere.”
“Oh, no.” I glanced down and a puddle of purple-green fluid reflected back at me. Scott was absolutely right. My bottle of coolant in the backseat was almost empty—there was no way I’d make it back home.
I opened my mouth to say something, although I wasn’t sure what, but he cut me off. His lips sealed over mine, kissing me with complete abandon. I balled my fists into his shirt, greedy for the contact. It did feel far more intimate than anything else we’d done.
He took my hand in his and tugged me toward his pickup truck on the opposite side of the lot. “This works out better all around,” he said.
“How exactly does my POS car needing a new radiator work out better?” I muttered.
He unlocked his truck and pulled open the passenger door for me. “I have a friend who just opened a new club, and I know he’d love to meet you. How do you feel about being tied up or blindfolded during sex?”
My brain stumbled over his question. “It’s . . . fine, I guess. I haven’t really done it.”
“You haven’t?” His tone was pleasantly surprised. “The girls at Joseph’s club make a ton of money. Triple that check in your purse.”
I froze. “Triple a week?”
“A night.”
Nina the office temp died from shock. “Scott, I need a favor.”
He gazed at me as if reading my thoughts. “You want me to blindfold you and tie you up, and see if you’re into it?” He laughed at my serious expression. “Oh, you will be, but don’t worry. We can do it anyway, just to be sure.”
I grinned and got into his truck.
Chapter Six
SCOTT
I’d been blessed with an eight-inch dick and a good-looking face. I lived in the gym. I had stamina, a rock-hard erection, and enough respect for my career to research the shit out of it. I’d try any tip I stumbled across on a porn blog, always did my best to maintain good relationships with my castmates and crew, and networked like hell.
In porn, women were the stars.
But I was going to make the name Scott Westwood known.
Things were changing in the industry all the time. Emphasis was on producing real now. No cheesy music, bad sets, and ridiculous plots. No canned lines of dirty talk. The high def cameras demanded ‘honest’ acting. The viewer wanted to feel the attraction and connection between performers, along with believable orgasms.
As a dude, it was ultra-competitive, but I could handle the pressure. I always performed, and made sure both my partners and the cameras were satisfied, even if there wasn’t attraction. Shit with Kendall had been messy, but none of it showed when we worked together post-breakup.
There was absolutely no issue with
attraction this afternoon when I’d first seen Nina. I glanced over at her now as we waited at a stoplight. She flashed a nervous smile. She might have been the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, and that was before her clothes came off.
Shit, just thinking about it made me sweat. I reached over and turned up the air conditioner fan speed, then wrapped my fingers around the gear shift. I was still buzzing from her kiss, riding a contact high.
Kissing her during the shoot had probably shocked me more than her. I hadn’t planned to do it. As soon as my lips touched hers, I was done for. Gone.
“He didn’t kiss you,” I said abruptly, the heat of her making it hard to think.
“Ben?” She laced her fingers together in her lap, like she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. “No.” She took in a breath, and her voice went soft, as if shy. “I’m glad he didn’t.”