by Ella Miles
“You make porn for a living?” she asks, slowly scanning the room, trying to make sense of it.
“Yes. I’m in the adult entertainment industry. I make porn movies, and I sell sex toys. My job is to sell sex.”
She swallows and nods, like it all makes sense. “I figured you owned a strip club or something like this,” she says.
I grab her chin and tilt her head toward me. “This isn’t like owning a strip club. Stripping is nothing compared to this. I hire people to have sex in front of a camera in order for me to make millions.”
She sucks in a breath as she looks at me. Then, she finally nods, but she’s not running away yet. Maybe she’s in shock.
I take her hand again and pull her toward the camera. Many people nod and smile and acknowledge me as we walk by. Most of my employees like me because I’m a fair boss, and they know exactly what I expect of them. I show up at work often, trying to be as involved as I can be. I try to make the working conditions the best they can be.
“Watch,” I say as the director starts shooting another scene.
The scene the two actors are in is pretty tame compared to some of the things I’ve seen and produced.
They are supposed to be in a classroom. The woman is a teacher, and the man is supposed to be her student. The woman eventually seduces her student, and then they fuck on her desk. It’s a good scene to ease Olive into this world. The actors truly enjoy what they do, and they want to be here. But that’s not the same for everybody. I’ve seen too many actors come and do this just to make a quick buck and not because they love it, and it ends up destroying them.
I watch Olive’s face as she watches them have sex in front of her. She blinks a lot as she watches. Her face occasionally flushes a slight shade of pink. But she doesn’t turn away in disgust. She doesn’t say that I’m degrading women or anything that I was expecting.
When the scene is over, I grab her hand and pull her out of there and into the side room that we use for interviews and meetings. I shut the door and flip on the lights so that I can see her. I need to know how she feels. Now.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“I think…I think…I don’t know what to think. I don’t like it. I don’t understand it.”
My heart sinks.
“But I don’t hate it.”
I can live with that, I think.
“And what do you think of me?” I ask, needing to know if she hates me.
She narrows her eyes at me. “I think I like you more than I should, more than what’s good for me.”
I grin even though I shouldn’t. I get to keep Olive in my life for a little bit longer. She doesn’t hate me…yet.
I grab her and spin us around while kissing her hard on the lips. When I put her down, I say, “I can’t wait to fuck you in the bed on my plane.”
She bashfully bites her lip, and then her eyes catch something in the corner of the room. She stops grinning. She stops paying any attention to me as she walks slowly over to the corner. I slowly turn around, but I already know what’s in the corner of the room.
Everything I thought I had with her, the little time I thought I had left with her, is now gone.
I look at Olive looking at the DVDs of me on the front, shirtless, with words like, Sean and Stacey in College Facials. I knew that she wouldn’t be happy when she found out that I not only produced porn, but I also starred in them. What’s worse is, the other person on the covers of most of them—Jamie.
“Olive, I can explain…”
But I know I can’t. There’s nothing to explain. There’s nothing to be sorry for. This is my life. This is what I do, and if she can’t accept me, then I don’t want her in my life.
Olive slowly turns around, and I see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I need some air,” she says, pushing past me and out of the room.
This is why I wanted to show her the real me—so she could run away. But, now that she has, I know that isn’t what I wanted at all.
16
Olive
I wrap my arms around myself because the cool night air hits me hard when I walk outside into the night. But I can finally breathe, alone in the dark. Except I’m not alone. I’m in a busy city full of people walking by who don’t bother to stop and ask if I’m okay when they see the tears burning down my cheeks. I should be thinking about Sean, about who he is and what he does, but all I can think about is that I should’ve brought a damn jacket.
I pace up and down the sidewalk, trying to warm my body and figure out why I had the reaction that I just had. I shouldn’t be upset that Sean owns and runs an adult entertainment company. I shouldn’t be upset that he did or still stars in porn. I shouldn’t be upset that he had sex with Jamie at least a dozen times on film for the world to see. I shouldn’t be upset because he is not mine.
I don’t have any claim to him, and I definitely don’t have any claim to his past. For all I know, he’s had sex with women in between our times together. But, still, the tears fall because it hurts to know how intimately involved Sean and Jamie were. They make sense together, unlike me and Sean. Jamie has always been strong, powerful, driven. She knows what she wants, and she goes after it, just like Sean. I don’t understand why I feel so strongly about them.
No, that’s not true. I know exactly why it makes me so upset.
One, because I care about Sean far more than I hate him.
Two, I know I’m the real reason that Jamie and Sean are no longer together.
It all comes back to me.
The endless nights of listening to Jamie talk about her baby, honey, sweetheart. It took me a while to connect the dots because she hardly ever used his real name when talking about him when they were together.
I try to push the thought out of my head, but I can’t. I broke them up. I just didn’t realize it at the time.
They were perfect for each other, and I ruined it. And, now, I’m making it worse by fucking Sean. Jamie will never be able to forgive me, and I can’t handle being in any more of her debt.
How do I tell Sean the truth? How do I give him up? How can I fix this now that Jamie is pregnant with another man’s baby?
I can’t.
That’s the only thing I know for sure. There is no way to fix this. What’s done is done. I just have to figure out how to move on from this.
I take a deep breath and wipe my tears off on the back of my hand. I fluff my hair before I turn around and walk back inside the building. I don’t take the elevator. I take the stairs, needing time to think as I climb each step.
I step out onto the floor where there’s a whole crew of people shooting the film, not paying any attention to me. I scan the crowd, looking for Sean but don’t immediately see him. I wander around on the floor, continuing to look for him while taking everything in.
“He’s not here,” a woman’s voice says.
I turn around and realize that the woman is talking to me. She’s beautiful with long, long blonde hair, and when I see the robe wrapped around her body, I realize instantly that she’s the woman from the film.
“Who?” I ask.
“Sean. He’s not here. That’s who you are looking for. You’re his new girlfriend.”
“I’m not sure I would say that. More like his new plaything for a little while.”
The woman laughs. “If you are just his plaything, then why did he bring you here? He hardly ever brings women here unless he’s serious about them. It’s one of his tests. And you’re failing horribly.”
I frown. “I know. But I didn’t freak out because of what he does. It’s more complicated than that.”
She nods. “It always is.”
“Where is he?”
The woman glances up, and I know immediately that he retreated to his condo.
“Thank you,” I say. I run to the elevator and press the button for the top floor.
“You’re going to need the code to access his floor,” the woman says from behind me.
I feel i
n my pockets, but I don’t have my cell phone to text him. It’s with my personal belongings that I left in the car for Sean’s staff to take up to the condo. I have no way to reach him. Shit.
The elevator doors open, but I don’t know what to do because I can’t reach him even if I step on. The woman steps on and starts entering a code into the panel. I step in behind her and try not to think about the reason she knows the code to access Sean’s floor.
“Don’t hurt him,” she says as she steps off the elevator.
I frown. Why does she think that I would hurt him?
The doors close, and they don’t open again until I reach the top floor.
When the doors open, I expect another obstacle in my way, preventing me from getting to Sean, but that’s not the case. When the doors open, they open straight to his condo. And it’s the most massive condo I think I’ve ever been inside of. His condo in Chicago isn’t even half of the size of this place.
But I try not to focus on how massive and beautiful and expensive his place is. I try to focus on the man sitting on the couch with Milo in his lap and a drink on the end table as he stares out the window in silence.
I know that he knows I’m here because Milo’s head pokes up, looking at me, and there’s no way he didn’t hear the elevator. But, still, I cautiously walk over and take a seat on the other end of the couch, tucking my feet under me. I prepare for a fight of some sort or a breakup to happen even though we were never really together. But he doesn’t say anything to me. He just blankly looks at me, unfeeling.
“I don’t know what to say,” I say.
Sean takes a drink of his amber liquor and then says, “Tell me that you hate me.”
He says what he wants me to say. I know that he brought me here to end whatever was going on between us. But it’s not what he wants. He wants to be with me—or at least, he wants to fuck me again. I’m not sure if he really wants me. He probably wants to be with Jamie.
“I don’t hate you. I wish I did. It would make everything easier,” I whisper.
He nods.
I want to apologize. I want to find a way to fix things, but I can’t. I know that’s not what he wants anyway.
He just wants me to accept him for who he is. And I do, and I don’t care what he does for a living. But it still doesn’t mean that we can be together. I just don’t know what it means yet.
I feel entirely exhausted and drained even though I slept for hours on the plane. I feel so tired. I’m tired because I didn’t get much sleep the night before due to my migraine. I’m tired from dealing with Owen. I’m tired of trying to figure Sean out.
“What’s my final test?” I ask, hoping that shows him that I still approve of him enough to be here.
He raises an eyebrow, surprised at my question. “You need to hire five actors tomorrow for a new film. The script is on the kitchen counter for you to read through.”
“I’ll read it before I go to sleep, which I need to do soon,” I say, waiting to hear what he’s going to say. I try not to think about the script that is basically just a sex scene that I’m somehow supposed to audition actors for. Instead, I think about the sleeping part. Am I going to sleep in his bed? Am I going to sleep alone? I don’t have an answer.
“Like I said, the script is on the counter. You won’t need to be ready until one tomorrow afternoon. That’s when the auditions start. And you can take any of the rooms in this condo.”
I suck in a breath because he’s not making the decision of where I sleep tonight. I am. I can sleep in his bed if I want, or I can sleep on my own in any of the other beds.
I get up off the couch and walk over to the kitchen where I pick up the script. Then, I head down the long hallway. I pass door after door, each bedroom all more than acceptable rooms to sleep in. But I don’t stop until I find the door on the end. When I open it, it looks just like his retreat in his Chicago condo.
I hesitate for a second, knowing that this is just going to make things even more complicated, but I don’t care. I want to sleep with Sean tonight even if there’s no chance we’ll have a tomorrow. So, I walk into his bedroom, and then I wait.
17
Sean
That was the first time that I slept in a bed without fucking a woman first. I probably could have. Olive probably even wanted me to with the way she was lying in my bed, sound asleep, when I came in. She’d climbed into my bed completely naked, and by the time I came in, the covers were halfway down her body, exposing her perfect breasts, begging me to touch them. But I was good—mainly because I didn’t want to wake her up. She looked so peaceful, sleeping in my bed.
But, now, it’s the next day, and I honestly have no idea where we stand. I thought that bringing her here would make everything clearer. I thought she would return to hating me like she did before, and that would be that. That, no matter how much I wanted to fuck her, she would say no every time, and I’d eventually give up and move on to another woman. But that’s not what happened. Everything became more complicated.
My dick still wants her. Man, does he want her. I want her lips, her ass, her pussy. I want to push my dick inside every bit of her. But do I want more than just to fuck her? Does she want more? I’m not sure. What would that even look like? How would we manage a relationship while working together? And I’m still not sure she’s okay with the fact that I sell sex for a living even if it’s not my body I’m selling anymore.
And there is still a past between her and Jamie that I don’t understand. I tried to get Jamie to tell me this morning when I called her. But she wouldn’t tell me. That could be another complication. And, since Jamie won’t tell me, I’ll have to work on Olive telling me.
But, for now, I get to push that all aside and just enjoy the afternoon. Because, right now, it’s time for Olive’s final test. I’ve already decided that she’s going to be my manager for me when I’m gone. She’s the only person I trust, and she’s already proven herself more than capable of handling any situation. I still want to do the test today because it’s going to be a hell of a lot of fun to watch her be uncomfortable all afternoon while trying to pretend like she’s not.
I hand Olive the stack of headshots of the actors. She takes them from me and places them on the table next to the script and her notebook that she has some things scribbled on. I’m guessing she has written interview questions and things like, Remain calm, and, Don’t stare at the guys’ dicks too much.
“This is your final test, so make sure you really prove to me that you’re capable of leading and taking control of any situation,” I say.
Olive rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t act like you haven’t already decided who’s going to be the manager. I know I already have the job. And, if I don’t, I’m suing you for sexual harassment,” she says with a smile.
I grin as I look at her. Then, I lean down, so my lips hover just over her ear, and I whisper, “Cocky. I like it, but just remember how much I enjoy punishing you when you mess up, and remember that we’re in a building full of all sorts of sex toys that you told me earlier you were afraid of. I could use far too many things in this building to punish you, and it would be far too enjoyable for me to make you so uncomfortable that you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”
I take a seat in the chair at the table next to her as her eyes follow me. I see the hint of fear but also lust in her eyes at that thought.
I grin, happy to have made this challenge even harder for her. “Are you ready, Olive?” I ask.
She nods.
“We’re ready for the first round of actors!” I shout out the door of the audition room.
One of my assistants opens the door and lets the first five actors in. I watch as Olive calmly folds her hands together and lays them on the table, watching the actors walk into the room.
“Can you please tell me your name, a little about yourself, and what your last project was?” Olive says politely to them.
I don’t pay attention to the actors, just Olive. She lis
tens with a bright smile on her face as each actor introduces themselves. She pulls out each headshot and résumé from the stack as they speak.
“I’ll now have you act out the first scene,” Olive says without an ounce of hesitation or fear in her voice.
I keep my eyes on her as actors get in position. But I can see them out of the corner of my eye, stripping most of their clothes off in order to prepare for the scene. The scene is much darker than what she saw yesterday. It’s a gangbang. Four men, one woman. And I don’t know how far she’s gonna want them to take the scene for her to decide who the best people for this job are. There is not really a right or wrong answer, although I usually have them take it far enough that I can decide how well they work together, enough for them to get into the scene and make me believe them.
Honestly, I don’t care if she picks all the wrong people for this next project. I just want to watch her grow uncomfortable and twist in her chair because I know watching her will drive me wild. I hear them start the scene with some seductive conversation. But Olive doesn’t change her expression. She just calmly sits there, like she’s watching an audition for a musical. The scene progresses, and I know that she is staring at guys holding their dicks as they prepare to fuck the actress.
But, still, Olive remains calm. Her eyes don’t show any fear or anxiety. Her breathing is calm and relaxed, but there is one tiny thing that gives her away. Her heart. I brush my hand against her leg, and I can feel her pulse beating rapidly through her body.
I grin. She might be pretending to be calm, but this is driving her wild inside.
She stops the scene a minute later, and I glance over to see where she stopped it—the exact moment after each of the men have had a chance to interact with the girl. It’s where I would have stopped them as well.
“Thank you all for coming. We will get back to you within the next couple of hours,” Olive says, standing out of her chair and extending her hand. As she does, her chair falls backward, making a loud clash.