Caught on Camera: Part Two

by Lily Harlem

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  A Totally Bound Publication

  Caught on Camera: Part Two

  ISBN # 978-1-78430-374-7

  ©Copyright Lily Harlem 2015

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright January 2015

  Edited by Rebecca Douglas

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 2.

  CAUGHT ON CAMERA: PART TWO

  Lily Harlem

  Part two in the Caught on Camera serial

  With a solution to his money worries and an end to the dry spell in his sex life, it’s time for Reece to step up to the stage and prove he’s the hot new star of the show.

  After agreeing to play one of the leading roles in Slippery Slots, Reece now has to shed his inhibitions, as well as his clothes.

  But it’s okay, because Cade, his hunky co-star, has a knack for remembering lines, working the role and is skilled at achieving the required positions.

  Soon the champagne is flowing, the petals on the bed scattering and the action is heating up. It really is an idyllic scene, the perfect moment for lovers, even if there is a cameraman zooming in on all the juicy, erotic details.

  With twists in the plot and desire playing the leading role, Reece revels in his new career and throws himself into the part.

  But can he forget about the camera and take what he wants from Cade? Is he allowed to bend the rules, and oh my, will he ever survive the torment of Cade’s super-talented, super-star mouth that pushes him to the very brink of ecstasy?

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Sky Sports: British Sky Broadcasting

  Mercedes: Daimler AG

  Porsche Boxter: Porsche Automobil Holding SE

  Aga: AGA Rangemaster Group plc

  Oscar: Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences

  Viagra: Pfizer

  Calvin Klein: Calvin Klein, Inc.

  Wonderland: Lewis Carroll

  Chapter Six

  Did Reece Carter want to be a rich man? Hell yeah, but what sort of question was that anyway?

  Cade was mad to ask, because didn’t everyone? No, he was mad…at Cade. Mad for tricking him into making a porn movie in a client’s garden, even if it was only thirty seconds of filth.

  Really fucking hot filth, but filth nonetheless.

  He typed a text message back.

  You really think I’m impressed by that stunt?

  Within seconds he had a response.

  No, I think you’re turned the hell on. I think you enjoyed seeing us fuck and now your cock is hard again. And why not enjoy it? We’re hot together, and I’d bet my last condom that the rest of the world would think so too.

  Reece shook his head. Who the hell was this guy?

  What are you on about Cade? Because right now you’re pissing me off. I should come over there and let my fist meet your mouth. And that’s exactly what will happen if anyone else sees this.

  He balled his hands. He’d never hit Cade. He might be a fit bloke who liked his sex a bit rough around the edges, but he wasn’t into violence.

  I’d rather you didn’t because then I’d have to thump you right back and mark your pretty face. And it ‘is’ for our eyes only. Like I said. But, think about it. Please.

  Reece tutted.

  Think about what exactly?

  He hit send and stared out of the van window. Some kids were kicking a ball against a low brick wall and the repeated thumping was banging through his head. Fuck, what had he gotten himself into with Cade the gardener—no job too big or small?

  Remember what we said? Wouldn’t it be fun if fucking was our job? Well it can be if you trust me.

  The nerve of it.

  Why would I trust you after this?

  A message came back.

  Because I am trustworthy, I just had to hook you. I’ll see you tomorrow Reece, but for now sleep tight and dream of me xxx

  Reece clicked his phone locked, grabbed his backpack then stepped out of the car. The thudding of the ball intensified and he walked quickly to the entrance of his block of flats. There was some new graffiti on the communal door—Sykes is a gay twat.

  Reece let himself in and climbed the stairs to level six. The elevator was broken yet again and the stairwell smelled of piss.

  He was glad to get into his home.

  It wasn’t much but it was his. Neat and clean, it had his things in it—a huge flat screen TV with Sky Sports, a fridge full of beer and in the spare room, his running machine. One day he’d move out, get a house with a garden. Maybe have a lawn like the Henley-Smythes that he could fuck on to his heart’s content but until then, he was stuck in his small two-bedroom place.

  After slipping out of his overalls and washing paint from his hands, he sat in just his boxers on the sofa with a beer.

  He reached for his phone and within seconds was playing the video. He couldn’t help it—he was compelled to see it again.

  There was no doubt about it, Cade was fucking gorgeous. This time rather than being shocked as he watched Cade walk naked to the pool and dive in, Reece admired the tapered dark hair that ran down the midline of his body to his erect cock. He’d have liked to spend some serious time exploring that hair, preferably with his tongue, rather than rushing to satisfaction with little time for indulging.

  But they hadn’t had the luxury of time.

  He watched Cade kissing him in the pool, holding his head possessively and at the perfect angle for the camera under the diving board to pick up the action.

  Reece shifted on the sofa—he was getting hard. The memories were fresh and strong. He’d enjoyed watching Cade wank in the pool. It had been lazy, languid and completely unselfconscious. That bit wasn’t on the video, clearly Cade had needed to do some editing to send it by text, but the good bits were on it—the parts that showed the action.

  Good bits? Action?

  Fuck, now Reece was thinking of it as an actual movie, a short film with himself as one of the main characters.

  And it wasn’t any old mo
vie. It was a porn movie.

  The video had moved on. He was on his knees sucking Cade’s cock now. His enthusiasm was obvious, as was how much Cade was enjoying receiving the blow job.

  Cade’s head was tipped back and his buttocks had an adorable little dip in the side that clenched and unclenched as he thrust forwards and backwards into Reece’s mouth.

  Reece slipped his hand down the waistband of his boxers and tugged his stiffening cock free.

  Damn, he was insatiable today. He’d been fucked to the point he hardly knew his own name and certainly hadn’t noticed he was being filmed, yet here he was again, ready to go.

  They were in the hot tub. Reece with a blissed out expression as Cade worked him to the edge. Cade was studying him, his gaze taking in all of Reece’s expressions and shifts and sighs. Cade was enjoying himself, enjoying touching him, and his shoulder muscles were bunching as he worked Reece up to a frenzy.

  Reece swallowed, his mouth was a little dry. He’d had his eyes closed then and hadn’t realized just how much Cade was studying him.

  “Ah yeah,” he said on a sigh. He copied what Cade was doing on the screen. Although his hand had been under the water, Reece knew exactly what pressure and speed he’d used. He replicated it now and groaned, the way he had in the hot tub.

  “That’s it,” he whispered, as the screen switched to the grand finale.

  His on-screen self was bent over the sunlounger, legs straight, arms braced, with Cade pounding into him. In reality there’d been some damn decent foreplay between hot tub and this moment—a delicious amount of finger-fucking and stretching and Cade easing Reece open and lubing him up. The video didn’t show any of that. It was pure bare-arsed fucking.

  Reece sped up the attentions on his cock and watched his small face contort with pleasure.

  During edits, Cade had perfectly caught the moment that Reece came. Clever bastard.

  Reece had never seen himself orgasm before. Never even thought about it. But now that he was seeing it, he was fascinated. He’d gritted his teeth, shut his eyes then, as the moment crested, he’d dropped his jaw, his face slackened and he’d grunted and cried out.

  His whole body trembled and he yanked his erection harder, the visual memory of that orgasm meant another was searing toward him. He clenched his buttocks and imagined Cade’s big cock in his arse again. He could still feel the sting, a delicious residual ache from the pounding.

  He watched Cade orgasm. The way he’d pulled at Reece’s hair was rough and had made Reece’s back and neck arch, angled his face to the camera.

  Reece felt his abdominal muscles tighten. He was going to come again. Already. After just a few jerks of his cock it was there.

  “Fucking hell,” he muttered, staring at the screen.

  Several slaps of cum burst out of his cock and landed on his belly.

  He grunted, resisted screwing his eyes up and kept his attention on the phone. The video had finished onto a frozen image of Cade buried deep in his arse. Cade was in the middle of coming, his mouth was open and his fingers digging into Reece’s hip and hair. Reece could remember the sounds he’d made.

  Another gloop of pleasure shot from Reece’s dick. Reece wanted Cade again. There was no doubt about it. And as his body pulsed through the final spurt of release, he knew that watching himself have sex was something he’d do again.

  Who’d have thought it? Certainly not Reece, who wasn’t even into watching porn as a rule. But seeing himself and Cade? That was erotic in the extreme. That he liked.

  * * * *

  Reece turned into the driveway of the Henley-Smythe’s mansion the next morning, feeling tired. He hadn’t slept well. Thoughts and memories had spun around his head all night.

  Cade, beautiful, wild, masculine and sexy, had pushed him to the very brink of what he could consider acceptable, yet at the same time, he was massively turned on by it.

  So much so that he’d masturbated yet again in the shower that morning, just to try to get through the day. He’d come three times in less that twenty-four hours, which was more than in the last month in total, being that he was sad and single.

  The van tires crunched on the gravel then came to a halt. He opened the door, reached for his backpack then looked up at the imposing brick built building. It had rows and rows of white windows at the top, several large bays at the bottom and a pillared porch covered in small pink flowers and ivy.

  There was a navy blue Merc on the drive, a sleek red, open-top sports car and a Porsche Boxter, black and shiny with silver alloys.

  He headed around the back to the tradesman’s entrance. At least that’s what Mrs. Henley-Smythe had called it when he’d arrived at the beginning of the week.

  He was a little disappointed that Cade’s gardening van wasn’t on the drive, but he figured he probably only worked once or twice a week, cutting the lawn and weeding.

  Reece tapped on the back door.

  “Come in.”

  He opened it and went into the kitchen. Mrs. Henley-Smythe was standing at the large island with her handbag over her shoulder.

  “Oh, Reece, I’m glad you’re here. I’m just heading out for the day. Do you think you’ll be finished later?”

  “Yes, I think so. Would you like me to leave my invoice with you now?”

  “Yes, do and I’ll settle up with you.”

  He rooted around in his bag and pulled the invoice out. “Here.”

  “Great.” She glanced at it then opened her purse. “Cash okay?”

  “Er, yeah, perfect.” Perhaps he’d be able to cut his tax on this job.

  She smiled and began to count out four hundred pounds in twenties.

  Reece licked his lips. Money. Yep, it made the world go round and that would pay his massive electric bill—the result of a cold winter—and get him a new set of front wheels on his van. The ones he had were bald, dangerous in the rain. He’d be glad to get that job done.

  “Thanks,” he said when she handed it to him. “And if you ever need anything else decorating, just give me a call and feel free to pass on my details to your friends.”

  “Yes. I will. I have your number. Thanks again,” she said with a smile. “Have a nice day.” She walked from the room, her heels tapping on the floor.

  Reece stared after her for a moment then looked around the plush kitchen. It wasn’t his taste particularly, more farmhouse than big, modern town home. He wondered if Mrs. Henley-Smythe would have preferred a cottage somewhere. But even so, despite the small plates set out on a picture rail and the bunches of dried herbs and flowers hanging over the huge Aga, it was still pretty impressive.

  He checked that his shoes were clean then headed through the hallway toward the stairs. His equipment was in the bedroom waiting for him and his brushes had been soaking overnight.

  As he walked past a shiny dark wooden door, he heard voices. He paused. It was Mr. Henley-Smythe again, he was sure of it, no doubt talking about his movie empire and his latest script. It sounded like he had someone in there with him. Maybe it was someone famous? An Oscar-winning Hollywood star or director? Steven Spielberg, perhaps?

  But the voices were muffled and he couldn’t make out individual words. But at least it was today that Mr. Henley-Smythe was working from home and not yesterday. That really would have spoiled his fun with Cade.

  Reece went up the stairs, into the bedroom and headed for the window. He stared out at the lawn. Neatly striped, it seemed empty without Cade on it. He looked at the pool and thought of the fun they’d had and the kiss that was on the video.

  He studied the diving board and shook his head. “Seriously?” What the hell was a camera doing under there?

  “Seriously what?”

  Reece spun around.

  Cade was standing in the doorway. But unlike yesterday, he wore smart black trousers with neat creases up the front, and a crisp white shirt, the first button undone.

  Fuck, he’s hot.

  Chapter Seven

  “Cade.
What are you doing here?” Reece asked.

  “Working.”

  “What? In that get up?” He pointed at his clothes. “You’ll ruin your trousers in the mud.”

  Cade smiled and walked toward him. “I have many strings to my bow and they don’t all include mud.”

  “Yeah, I bloody guessed that much.” Reece recovered from the shock of having such a devastatingly gorgeous man suddenly appear and spun back to the window. “And one of them appears to be surveillance technology.”

  “Ah, you’re referring to the cameras?”

  “Yes, I’m damn well referring to the cameras. How did you know they were there?” Reece paused. “No. Let me guess. You put them there.”

  “No, I didn’t actually, but I was aware of them, and I did have access to the footage.” He came and stood next to Reece and stared out of the window. “Which was why I made us that sexy little video as a reminder of our first time.”

  “First time.” Reece breathed deep, inhaling Cade’s cologne. Unlike yesterday when he’d smelled of the outdoors and sweat and earth, today he had an expensive aroma of black pepper and spice. It was sexy and sultry and matched the warm morning that promised the day was going to be a scorcher again.

  “Yes, first time.” Cade touched Reece’s cheek with the back of his index finger. “Because there will be others.”

  Reece moved his head away from the caress. He was still mad about the video being recorded without him knowing. He wasn’t angry that it existed, not now he’d gotten used to the idea, just about the secretiveness of it. “You’re sounding mighty confident about that first time fact.”