Table of Contents
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EPILOGUE
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
BOOKS BY KIMBERLY KNIGHT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
COPYRIGHT
No portion of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any print or electronic form without permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, any places, events or occurrences is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The subject matter is not appropriate for minors. Please note this novel contains profanity, explicit sexual situations, and alcohol consumption.
Copyright © 2019 Kimberly Knight
Published by Kimberly Knight
Cover art © Kimberly Knight
All rights reserved.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear Reader,
If you’ve read my previous books and are a Knight Reader, you know that I typically write MF books. Please note that this book contains MF and FFM sex scenes, which are fucking hot!
Happy reading!
XOXO,
Kimberly
CHAPTER ONE
Ayla
The music pounds in my eardrums as Natasha and I enter the packed, two-story house. It’s another Friday night, which means another frat party. This one is the last before winter break, and everyone seems to be a little drunker than usual as we walk through the sea of people in search of our other friends.
I halt Natasha with my hand on her wrist and motion my other hand toward the kitchen. “Let’s grab a beer.”
“Yes,” she calls over her shoulder. “It’s time to get wasted!”
I snort. “For sure.”
We take a few more steps, and she stops. “There’s Tim,” she says, pointing toward a group of guys playing darts.
“Who?” I question.
She turns and faces me with wide blue eyes. “Tim Smith.”
I shrug. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”
She rolls her eyes. “God, Tiff. You’re so …” She paused. “What the hell is my line?”
“Cut!” Mike, the director, shouted.
I laughed as an assistant walked up with the script for her to look over. “You’re such a hermit crab,” I answered for her.
“Right. Do people say that in real life?”
I shrugged. “I don’t.”
Walker, who had the role of Tim Smith, walked over. “Get it together, Carmen. Some of us have somewhere to be tonight.”
I rolled my dark brown eyes. This was my first scene with him, and I had somewhere to be as well, but Walker Payne thought he was a hotshot actor and everything revolved around him. So hot that he got a part of playing an eighteen-year-old on screen when he was in his twenties. I couldn’t really talk because I was playing a twenty-two-year-old when I was pushing thirty in real life, but the scene we were working on was more of a prequel for the entire movie, and the present day ages of the characters would be twenty-five and twenty-nine— our actual ages.
Walker looked over at me. “We’re never going to get to fuck at this rate.”
I chuckled at his reference to our fake sex scene. “You can’t handle this anyway.”
“We can find out.” He winked.
I opened my mouth to respond, but the director cut me off. “Are we good?”
“Yeah, sorry,” Carmen said. “I’m good to go.”
“Let’s hurry this up,” Walker stated to Carmen. “I have—”
“Somewhere to be,” I finished for him. “We got it.”
Our makeup was checked quickly, and then we restarted the scene.
“There’s Tim,” she says, pointing toward a group of guys playing darts.
“Who?” I question.
She turns and faces me with wide blue eyes. “Tim Smith.”
I shrug. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”
She rolls her eyes. “God, Tiff. You’re such a hermit crab.”
“I prefer homebody.” I chuckle. My gaze turns to the group of guys at the dartboards, and then back to Natasha. “Are we here for boys or booze?”
“Boys and booze, Tiff, but booze first.” She raises her arms above her head and cheers.
“Cut,” Michael said. “Let’s take ten and get ready for the next scene.”
I turned my head to look at Walker. He was already off the set and headed toward his private trailer. Carmen and I shared a trailer, but I was hopeful that, one day, I would have my own trailer too. And I wasn’t going to be a bitch like him when I reached that level of fame.
Walker Payne was Hollywood royalty. He’d been working since he was five years old, and he’d never had to worry about money or when he would get his next role.
But I did.
I grew up in a small town in Texas that had an average household median of less than twenty-five thousand dollars a year, and I now had a part-time job that barely paid my rent. I tried to be humble, taking each opportunity as a gift, and finally caught my big break with this movie we were filming now.
“Let’s go get coffee,” Carmen suggested.
I had a feeling that I needed more caffeine to be able to keep up with Walker in our next scene.
“Jell-O shot?” one of the fraternity guys asks.
I reach for two. “Bottoms up!”
We slurp the strawberry flavored gelatin, and Natasha’s eyes widen as she sucks it down.
“What?” I ask.
She nudges her head for me to turn around, so I do, seeing that guy, Tim, walking toward us. Natasha mutters, “Oh my, god.”
Tim stops in front of me and says, “I was so enchanted by you that I ran into that wall over there, so I’m going to need your name and number for insurance purposes.”
I stare at him for a moment and then burst out with laughter. “Are you serious right now?”
Tim grins. “Okay, fine.” He steps closer. “How about we just cut to the chase?”
I grin at Natasha and then turn back to Tim. “And what’s that?”
He leans down and whispers into my ear, “We can go upstairs, and you can find out.”
I stare into his hazel eyes. “Lead the way.”
My character was three sheets to the wind at that point, and that was the only reason she’d agreed to go fuck a frat guy. It wasn’t like her character. Tiffany was the good college girl who went to class on time, did her homework, and rarely partied, but the scene was set up for her to let loose for one night before winter break. Her plan wasn’t to get drunk and sleep with a guy, but since she was drunk, she’d let her inhibitions fly and decided to sleep with a hot guy.
Walker was hot with his boyish good looks, short black hair, hazel eyes, and a light beard. He fit the whole frat guy vibe, and in another world, I would be one of the many women who had a crush on him. I’d had a little crush on him before I met him, and was excited to land my first big role to co-star alongside him, but then he opened his mouth and was a total douche to Carmen and turned me off.
Tim laces our fingers and leads me through the sea of peopl
e dancing and kissing and drinking.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He doesn’t reply as we ascend the stairs and pass people making out in the hall. He brings me to the first door, and it’s locked. He tries another, and it opens to a bathroom.
“Cut,” Mike announced, and Walker and I went back down the stairs and to the set that looked like your standard college bathroom in a frat house. Towels on the floor, white walls, and a tiled beige counter with a sink and large mirror behind it. The moment Mike yelled action, Walker and I moved into the bathroom as though we had actually entered the bathroom in the same scene.
We start to shed our clothes, and once Tim’s shirt is off, he turns and grips my ass and places me on the counter. His tongue presses against mine, and we go at it, kissing and licking and hungry for each other.
Kissing Walker—or Tim in this sense—was amazing. His tongue worked inside of my mouth, his hand cupped my breast, and I moaned which wasn’t part of the script. He didn’t stop, and neither did I. I felt the moment it turned into something … more, but I stuck with the script.
I break the kiss. “Do you have a condom?”
He grins and grabs his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Of course, I do.” I slide off the counter and unbutton my pants. “What’s your name, beautiful?”
I smile as I discard my pants and flip flops. “Tiffany.”
“Well, Tiffany, it’s your lucky night.”
I should have felt nervous. This was my first sex scene and, of course, my first sex scene with someone who was sure to draw in the crowds, but I wasn’t nervous. The moment Walker’s lips touched mine, I was put at ease and was in the moment. I stared at his washboard abs as he stripped, hoping that it was what Mike had envisioned for the scene, but also because I couldn’t tear my gaze off of Walker’s perfect body. He had a light dusting of dark hair that went into the waistband of his boxers, and I got butterflies in my stomach.
Tim picks me up and puts me back on the counter. His mouth returns to mine, and our tongues dual as he leans me back against the cold mirror. He steps back and lowers his jeans before stepping forward to enter me. I moan as he thrusts, and our mouths work together, nipping, biting, and raw.
“And cut,” Mike yelled as the scene was meant to fade to black.
CHAPTER TWO
Walker
It was about fucking time I had a co-star who knew her lines.
When I’d heard who was cast as my love interest for “An Unexpected Christmas,” I had no idea who Ayla Bowen was. I’d checked IMDb and saw that she was hot and that she had only been extras in a few movies as well as some smaller roles in a few indie films.
But, I had to hand it to the girl: she knew how to kiss and pretend fuck.
When we got to the bathroom and started to kiss, it felt as though it had turned real somehow. I couldn’t explain it other than I was enjoying kissing the beautiful dark haired beauty. The kiss with Ayla was starting to make my dick hard for real, and when I stepped forward as though we were really fucking, I wanted to slip inside her.
That had never happened before.
What made matters worse, we had to do the scene five times to make sure Mike got everything he needed. My dick was screaming at me by the time we were done.
Luckily, after the takes, Mike called it a wrap for the day, so I went straight to my trailer, trying to hide the fact that I was walking as though I’d just rode a horse all day. I wasn’t sure if Ayla had noticed during our takes, but I’d tried not to show her how aroused I was. I had an image to uphold. It was silly really, but society had pegged me as the A-list actor who only dated supermodels. They weren’t entirely wrong, but I wasn’t looking for a serious girlfriend.
That was why I was a member of a sex club called Sensation. What went on behind the doors of the club, stayed behind the doors of the club. The tabloids had no clue what really happened in my life. I might have a model on my arm at a movie premiere, but my after party might also be at Sensation and not some night club.
I hadn’t been to Sensation in six months because I’d been filming an action movie in Switzerland, Italy, and France.
Thankfully, we wrapped filming for the day on time because I had an exclusive party to go to at the club. It wasn’t their one night a month party where all members and guests could attend. This party was for Diamond members only. Each DMP (Diamond Member Party) had a different theme but was always masked to make it even more exclusive. Invitations were sent that outlined the upcoming party, and we had to RSVP if we wanted to attend.
Savior, the owner, was a master at making fantasies reality.
Dressed in a black and white tux, I pulled up to the gates of Sensation. With DMPs, we had to wear a mask so you didn’t know who was in attendance. At first, I’d thought it was weird, but the mystery of not knowing turned me on. When I was behind the Roman style silver and ivory mascaraed mask, I wasn’t Walker Payne, son of Reba and Austin Payne, who everyone knew from multiple award-winning movies. I was just another man in a mask.
I could be anyone.
My mask covered everything above my mouth and had two Pegasus on the top. I chose the mask because of the Pegasus. They were mythical and symbolized wisdom and fame.
For DMPs, each car was let into the gate one by one so we didn’t see who was arriving in case they didn’t have a mask on yet. It was all a part of the illusion and mystery that Savior was trying to capture.
When I pulled my Tesla Roadster up to the stairs that led to the lavish mansion, a valet opened my door and took my keys as I slid out. I buttoned my tux jacket, straightened my mask, and ascended the stairs, stopping to show my card to Luke at the front door.
After he checked me off the list, I walked into the mansion and was silently led to a long dinner table. Tonight’s party was dinner and a show, and I didn’t know what that really entailed. We had never been offered dinner before, but I was intrigued, and that was why I was antsy to get out of shooting.
Half of the seats were full as I looked around the table, wondering which woman—or women—were going to make my night better.
CHAPTER THREE
Ayla
Before I got the role of Tiffany Thompson in “An Unexpected Christmas,” I was like most actors and actresses trying to make it big in Hollywood: broke. I still was in a sense because Los Angeles was expensive, but now that I had a major role of sorts, money wasn’t as tight, though I still kept my part-time gig because it was fun and only twice a month. And I made enough to pay my rent for the month.
When I saw an ad online for a performer, little had I known that the job was to be a performer at a sex club. That was when I realized how women—and men—could have sex for a living: the dollar signs were staring me in the face.
For one to three nights a month, I had to have sex or perform an erotic scene with my co-workers. I didn’t mind the days I had to sleep with my co-workers. We were all starving artists in a way, who wanted to make it big in Hollywood, so we’d help each other with lines, and then we’d go over what was going to happen during the black-tie parties or the Diamond Members Parties where we’d have safe, fun sex—and get paid for it.
On the nights I didn’t have sex with them, I’d perform in some other way like being on a leash at the feet of the owner as though he was my master and I was his submissive, but it was all for show.
When Walker was antsy about leaving the shoot on time, I was feeling antsy too, but I wasn’t being a bitch about it. I had a job, he had a job, and we did our job and got to leave. But the more we had our fake sex scene, the more I wanted it to be real. I got lost, forgetting about the cameras and imagining that Walker Payne wanted Ayla Bowen from Kirbyville, Texas, not a Playboy model who had legs for days, perfect boobs, and all the right curves.
No, I was petite, and even though I was twenty-nine, I looked like the twenty-two-year-old character I was playing with Walker. He would never want someone like me. So, I lived out a fantasy while we were in t
hat pretend bathroom. Our characters would do it again after some angst, and I would be ready.
I arrived at the Beverly Hills mansion, and after giving the valet my keys to my beat-up 1995 Toyota Camry, I walked up the stairs and made my way inside and to our dressing room. Tonight, was a Diamond member only party, and Winn, my boss and the man also known as Savior, had put together a little dinner theater. During dinner, my co-workers and I were to serve the food, touch the members with feather-light touches, and caress them if we felt the vibe. It was to get them aroused and ready for after the show so they could fulfill their desires before going home.
The show was going to be two of the girls—not me—in the center of the table having sex. I wasn’t opposed to having sex with a woman. It was actually fun because a woman knew exactly where and how to touch, hitting all the right spots. But I’d only been with women as part of my job at Sensation. I’d learned a lot about who I was sexually since working at the club for the past five months, and everyone seemed to be very fluid with their sexuality.
“How was your first week of filming?” Hannah, our executive coordinator, asked.
“It was ah-mazing.” I grinned as wide as I could as I brushed my black hair into a high ponytail. I was dressed in only a black lace bra and a matching black lace thong, as were the seven other girls. The four men were in black boxer briefs and black bowties. The Diamond members would be in masks and were instructed to keep the masks on until after dinner.
“She’s going to make it big and leave us,” Zach whined.
I chuckled. “Or become a member.”
His blue eyes widened. “Hellz yeah, my girl is gonna be the next Julia Roberts.”
“Does Julie Roberts go to sex clubs?”
He snorted. “I don’t know, but I’m saying that you’re going to be a big name actress, baby girl.”
I smiled. “Thanks, man.”
“Plus, you’re co-starring with Walker Payne. That man is fine,” he stated, dragging out the last word.
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