faire l'amour

by Jessica Gadziala

  Uncertainty. At someone, anyone being able to look out their window, innocently glance across the street, and see me there, completely naked with a man behind me, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

  But also - and maybe even more acutely - excitement over the exact same situation.

  Maybe it was simply that I had long since come to terms with the idea of others seeing my naked body - and in much more stark lighting - but it didn't make me shock away, curl downward into myself, want to cover up.

  It didn't matter that all the movies Preston and I had made were now locked in a safe in his bedroom closet. The changes they had made to me remained.

  In nothing, it seemed, but good ways.

  Sex positive ways.

  Confidence increasing ways.

  Preston's hand slid into my hair, gathering it, twisting, yanking it to the side just enough to make my scalp smart, giving him the access to nip my earlobe.

  "Anyone could look out right now," he reminded me, reaching between us with his other hand, slamming deep inside me, "and see me fucking your wet pussy," he told me, hand going to my hip, holding me still, fucking me harder, faster as each moment passed.

  "Preston..." I whimpered as my hand slapped on the glass, fearing for a second its ability to hold my weight as I pressed forward into it.

  "I want your ass," he growled, making a quiver move through my belly, lower.

  "Yes," I moaned, remembering the intensity the first - and last - time he'd taken me that way.

  His cock slid out of me, my own wetness gliding down my thighs as he shifted, as I stuck my ass further out, inviting him.

  There wasn't the slow, careful exploration like there had been the last time. His cock pressed, penetrated, took me fully in one stroke, making a choked groan escape me as my hips sank back further into him.

  "Fuck," he growled, forehead hitting my shoulder for a moment, looking for some self-control.

  Then his hand slipped between my thighs as he started to thrust, slow at first, gaining momentum as his thumb traced my clit.

  Only when my moans got louder, more desperate, as my body got closer, did his two fingers slip down, gliding inside me, turning, stroking up over my top wall, finding my G-spot with practiced ease.

  I had thought he'd been exaggerating when he'd teased me with the idea of a triple-zone orgasm.

  But he was in my ass, his thumb on my clit, his fingers inside me.

  And I completely freaking shattered.

  If it were not for Preston's arm releasing my hair to anchor around my belly, I was sure I would have fallen, the intensity of the climax stealing anything even resembling strength from my body, turning me into a boneless heap of pleasure as the waves kept crashing through me. Until my throat hurt from crying out. Until my legs were shaking. Until my body finally let me start to come back down after Preston slammed deep, claiming his own release.

  "Christ," he hissed, his forearm planting on the glass above me, letting it hold his - and therefore my - weight as he struggled to find his breath, slow his heartbeat. "What prompted that?" he asked, leaning down to press a kiss into my temple as he gently slid out of me.

  I took a deep breath, forcing the strength back into my legs, letting me turn to face him, a small smile pulling at my lips.

  "You made me tea."

  His brows furrowed at that, eyes completely blank for a second. "You're serious?"

  "It's the little things," I told him with a nod.

  "So... you're saying I should return this?" he asked, walking over to his suit jacket draped over the back of the couch, dragging out a box. A telltale blue-green box. He waved it around with a knowing little smirk.

  "Well, it can be the big things too," I told him, making a chuckle move through him as I reached for it, gently working the white satin ribbon free to pull the top off.

  Inside was nestled a silver heart on a chain, the initials PR engraved on them.

  A heart.

  No.

  His heart.

  He'd given me his heart.

  "I love you," he told me, no hesitance, no pretense, no fear.

  It was amazing that I could speak past the lump in my throat as I threw myself at him again, feeling his arms wrap around me as mine nearly squeezed the life out of him.

  "I love you too."

  Rosie - 3 months

  "It's nothing!" I insisted, rolling my eyes at the rambling Preston was doing about how I was being generous, how I didn't have to do this, that I was going 'above and beyond.'

  "It's not nothing," he insisted, packing my computer into a box, sealing it with one of the dozen or so rolls of packing tape we had scattered around. "It's really nice of you."

  "We had already decided I was moving in with you anyway," I reminded him, folding the sheets from my laundry basket, putting them into a pile on the edge of the bed that would not be coming with me. Since we already had a bed.

  We.

  That word still made my heart jump and flitter around happily.

  I hoped it never stopped doing that.

  "Take a compliment, woman," he demanded, shaking his head at me.

  "One wasn't necessary! I was moving out anyway. I have a couple months left on my lease. It makes sense to let him move in until he gets back on his feet."

  Ryker was getting out of rehab.

  And having lost his apartment, and not wanting to burden his family, he didn't have a place set up yet.

  It made sense to let him sublet my place until he found someplace better.

  It hadn't been Preston who had told me the story. About the drug use. About the potential for a situation like that to turn deadly. Not just for him, but for the girls he once did scenes with.

  It had been Ryker himself who had told me on one of the trips Preston had made up there. Due to confidentiality, Preston could only cryptically tell me that it was all thanks to me that Ryker was getting help at all. But it had been the man himself who laid it all out there for me, owning up to his mistakes as his program demanded, making amends.

  The two of them had done a lot of mending of things before I had ever met him. Preston went up every other weekend, offering support to a man who he had once had nothing but contempt for.

  And, while Ryker's history implied he was one problem after another, the man I met seemed to truly be on a path to turning his life around. He wanted to leave porn behind, go back to school for drug counseling, help others trapped in the cycle get help.

  He just needed a leg up.

  Preston was letting him work on the night crew at GAP doing custodial work.

  Me letting him stay in my empty apartment was nothing.

  "Hey, you know what?" Preston asked, coming back in from the kitchen.

  "What?" I asked, cocking my head to find him giving me a look that made my belly turn liquid.

  "We've never christened this place," he told me, coming up behind me, his hands sliding up my body.

  "Ryker is going to be here in an hour," I reminded him.

  "Plenty of time," he told me, his hand sliding up my thigh.

  Insatiable, that was one way to describe him, describe us.

  I was still trying to bring order to my hair when Ryker walked in the front door, lips curving up as he looked at the two of us.

  "It smells like sex in here," he declared, chuckling. "That's what you get when you sublet from a bunch of porn stars," he added, shaking his head in mock outrage.

  I was pretty sure my cheeks were still crimson an hour later as Preston led me down to his car, giving my hand a squeeze.

  Preston - 3 years

  I'd left her once.

  For a week.

  Because I needed to handle something with a distributor in Florida. And because she wouldn't leave Michael.

  A week.

  I came home to find her in my office, half a dozen of the stars standing there listening to her give them directions.

  For the record, I never asked her to hold down GAP while
I was out of town.

  But there she was.

  Making changes.

  I found out about an hour later, after being told of her ideas, that I really should have offered her a job years before. This time, behind the cameras. On the business end. The idea end.

  Because suddenly, we were going to have things that no one else offered. And as the popularity of streaming porn services grew, it was important for us to stay relevant, to be innovative.

  We were the first service to have reality porn shows. Where the audience chose who was going to fuck whom. And how. With toys or not. With extra scene partners.

  It was the most popular set of videos on the service when they aired.

  Then, after she realized that some of the stars - like Melody - actually had classical acting training, she came up with another different idea.

  "You know why women were so into Khal and Khaleesi?" she'd started the pitch. "We're super invested in the scene where she gets on top? Even though, let's be honest, that scene wasn't all it could have been?"

  "Alright. Yeah..." I said, nodding, not sure where she was going with this.

  "I mean, I'm not saying we should try to create something on the scale of Game of Thrones. It would be an enormous undertaking. But if we could find some other source material that was character driven and erotic? I really think the female viewers would be into that. To be able to get invested in the characters. If you make them wait a season or two for their favorite couples to hook up? That tension... yeah," she said, letting out a little whimper at the idea.

  At five month's pregnant, her hormones were something fierce. Even just the thought of sex got her almost to the brink of desperation.

  She'd survived the week away simply because we went old school Rosie and GAPPR days with a webcam, a sexy story, and a fun new vibrator.

  "I'll have Coop send out some feelers about interest in something like that," I told her, pulling her out of my chair, sitting myself, then dragging her down onto my lap, my hand slipping between her thighs.

  It would turn out that her idea - all her ideas really - but this one in particular, had been a huge hit. And once we had worked out the kinks of finding some actual talented actors - by Hollywood standards, not Porn Valley standards - we'd been raking in money like never before.

  So wrapped up in my ideas of bringing back the Golden Age of Porn, I had missed the potential to make it even better.

  Rosie hadn't.

  I wasn't surprised.

  Everything she touched, she made better.

  The apartment we lived in that used to be sparse, cool, had become warm, homey.

  The non-profit she worked at part time to help the homeless was doing more good than ever before.

  And, well, me.

  I was a far better man for having known her, for having her come into my life, filling it with sweetness, with love.

  "Preston?" she said in a hesitant voice a couple minutes after the orgasm subsided.

  "Yeah, baby?"

  "I got it."

  "Got what?"

  "The name," she clarified, pressing my hand to her slightly rounded belly.

  "Yeah?" I asked, rubbing her belly. "What did you come up with?"

  "Gabriel Alexander Peter Page Renault."

  Gabriel, her father's name.

  Alexander, for her mother, Alexandra.

  Peter for her brother's middle name.

  Page for her old last name.

  Renault for, well us.

  It was long as fuck, but I liked it.

  It didn't even occur to me to analyze it further until I looked down at her, seeing her gleeful smile.

  And then it hit me.

  Gabriel Alexander Peter Page Renault.

  GAPPR.

  "That's the one," I agreed, sealing my smiling lips to hers.

  DON'T FORGET!

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for taking time out of your life to read this book. If you loved this book, I would really appreciate it if you could hop onto Goodreads or Amazon and tell me your favorite parts. You can also spread the word by recommending the book to friends or sending digital copies that can be received via kindle or kindle app on any device.

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  IMPORTANT NOTICE:

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  * Paperbacks can be obtained legally on many platforms.

  ALSO BY JESSICA GADZIALA

  If you liked this book, check out these other series and titles in the NAVESINK BANK UNIVERSE:

  The Henchmen MC

  Reign

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  Repo

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  Lazarus

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  Cyrus

  Edison

  Reeve

  Sugar

  The Fall of V

  Adler

  Roderick

  Virgin

  The Savages

  Monster

  Killer

  Savior

  Mallick Brothers

  For A Good Time, Call

  Shane

  Ryan

  Mark

  Eli

  Charlie & Helen: Back to the Beginning

  Investigators

  367 Days

  14 Weeks

  Dark

  Dark Mysteries

  Dark Secrets

  Dark Horse

  Professionals

  The Fixer

  The Ghost

  The Messenger

  The General

  STANDALONES WITHIN NAVESINK BANK:

  Vigilante

  Grudge Match

  OTHER SERIES AND STANDALONES:

  Stars Landing

  What The Heart Needs

  What The Heart Wants

  What The Heart Finds

  What The Heart Knows

  The Stars Landing Deviant

  What The Heart Learns

  Surrogate

  The Sex Surrogate

  Dr. Chase Hudson

  The Green Series

  Into the Green

  Escape from the Green

  DEBT

  Dissent

  Stuffed: A Thanksgiving Romance

  Unwrapped

  Peace, Love, & Macarons

  A Navesink Bank Christmas

  Don't Come

  Fix It Up

  N.Y.E.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jessica Gadziala is a full-time writer, parrot enthusiast, and coffee drinker from New Jersey. She enjoys short rides to the book store, sad songs, and cold weather.

  She is very active on Goodreads, Facebook, as well as her personal groups on those sites. Join in. She's friendly.

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  <3/ Jessica