Campy (Ballsy Boys Book 4)

by K. M. Neuhold

  “Night.”

  30

  Jackson

  When I got the part in Hill Country, I not only signed with an agent, but I was assigned a publicist as well. Assigned being not entirely correct, since I'm paying her myself, but the network made it very clear I needed one.

  So far, she's certainly had a positive effect on my career, I think. She's secured me some wonderful TV interviews, quite a few magazine interviews, a ton of online press, and even one commercial endorsement from the makers of the boots I wear every day. That was the easiest “Yes, please” ever for me.

  We talk on the phone maybe once a week or so, with the strict instruction I should immediately call her if anything is wrong. I never quite understood what would constitute wrong, but I guess if I ever got involved in any type of scandal, my first call should be to her.

  She's nice enough, Katie, even if she's super businesslike and very goal-oriented. That's not a bad quality in her line of work, but she's not one to chitchat or waste time with small talk.

  That’s why I'm a little surprised when she calls me out of the blue, because we spoke two days before. "Hey Katie, what's up?" I ask when I answer the phone.

  "I heard some interesting news about you and wanted to verify."

  As I said, she rarely wastes time on small talk. "Sure. What did you hear?"

  "Look, there's no subtle way to ask this, so I'm gonna come straight out, okay? Are you gay?"

  It's not so much the question that takes me back, as the timing. Why has this come up now? An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. Still, my answer is swift and definitive. "I am." I wait a few beats, then when she stays quiet, I add, "Is that a problem?"

  Her sigh is audible on the line. "No, but I wish you would've told me."

  "Why is it even important? I thought being gay wasn't that big of a deal here in Hollywood?" I ask, frowning.

  "It's not a problem at all, but if you had told me, we could've capitalized on it. Maybe we still can, if we act fast. Are you publicly out? Does your family know?"

  "Whoa, backup. What do you mean by capitalizing on it?"

  "Jackson, when timed right, coming out as gay can gain you a lot of sympathy with fans. Younger viewers adore you, especially women, and they're the ones with the highest tolerance for LGBT issues. Not just tolerance, but affection, even. If we can utilize your coming out, we could get you some new fans."

  I'm still not quite sure what she means, but maybe I'd better answer her question first. "I am publicly out. There is no one important who doesn't know I'm gay, including my family."

  "And are you dating anyone right now?"

  My thoughts immediately go to Cameron. I have no idea what we are. Boyfriends? He’s introduced me to his mom and he’s met Brax, so I guess we are, but I’m not sure if he’s comfortable yet with the whole world knowing. Plus, boyfriends seems too simple for what we are, too cliché a term to capture how I feel about him.

  "Let's just say there is someone important in my life, but leave it at that. "

  She hesitates for a bit before she answers. "Look, Jackson, I'm gonna be honest with you here, okay? I heard a rumor that you might be dating a gay porn star, is there any truth to that?"

  My heart skips a few beats. How the hell does she know this? The answer comes quickly. The pilot party. Enough people recognized Cameron as Campy. If only one of them said something to a tabloid, that would've done the job. Plus, we’ve hung out in public enough, like in the gay bars we went to. If people recognized either of us…

  "Does your source have a name?" I ask, wanting to know how much info they have.

  "Not yet, or they’re not telling me. But if they start digging, that won’t take long. I take it it’s true then?”

  How can I confirm this without talking to Cameron first? I can’t decide for him if he’s okay with this, though I have a sneaking suspicion he won’t be on account of the panic attack he had when Brax recognized him. He’s not gonna want to come out and publicly date me. That would mean giving up his private life even more. Any chance he has of staying under the radar for his porn work will be gone then. What an unholy mess this is.

  “Can you give me a few hours so I can talk to him? I don’t want to say anything without his permission.”

  “Yes, but call me before the end of the day. If this breaks, it could hurt you. Viewers may not have an issue with you being gay, but porn stars are still not seen as a respectable partner.”

  “Katie, no matter what he says, I’m not gonna stop seeing him.” That much I can tell her. “So honestly, I don’t care what viewers think.”

  Her tone is surprisingly warm when she answers. “I understand that, so all I’m saying is that I need as much time and information as you can give me so I can spin this. Anything is salvageable, but we have to break the news ourselves.”

  I guess that’s good news in some way, but I’m still feeling heavy-hearted as I hang up. What a nightmare. How naïve of me to never even consider the ramifications of dating a porn star. That’s because that’s not how I see him. At all.

  To me, he’s Cam. Sweet, sexy, kind Cam. The man who can look at me with eyes that betray much more than he’s ever put into words. The man who can make my body feel things I’ve never felt before. The man who does everything for his mama. The man who I’m in love with and who I want to grow old with.

  What I said to Katie is true. I don’t care what it will cost me in terms of negative press. I’m not giving him up. If the choice comes down to him or my career, it’s him. It will always be him. I know he’s not there yet, but I have faith he will be. All he needs is time, but after Katie’s call just now, we may not have that time.

  Dear God in Heaven, I hope this won’t make him run.

  Campy

  I’m sore and tired when I step into the apartment but sporting a smile a mile wide because today wasn’t a Ballsy day, it was a wildlife center day. I may smell like the wrong side of a donkey, but I got to hand-feed a bald eagle and that was absolutely the coolest thing I can imagine.

  Jackson is sitting on the couch and as soon as I see him, the joy inside me boils over and I fling myself onto his lap. He laughs as he catches me, his large hands grasping my waist and his lips soft and warm under mine. He must not have shaved today because the slight stubble on his cheeks rubs against my chin, sure to leave me red and raw if we kiss too long. But I don’t care. Right now all I want is to get lost in Jackson for a few hours.

  I flick my tongue along the seam of his lips and he opens for me, granting me access to lick into his mouth and suck his tongue—the latter being a little trick I learned from Heart. He’s not usually the best kisser during scenes, but every once in a while, it feels like he drops the act for a few seconds and I get a more real version of him. That’s when his kissing is much better. It’s also when I start to wonder who he must be thinking about and if he’s seeing anyone. He’s almost as cryptic as I am about his personal life, but I like thinking there’s someone at home taking care of him the way Jackson takes care of me.

  “Mmm, I love kissing you,” Jackson mutters against my mouth.

  “You’re not so bad yourself, Cowboy.”

  His hardening cock presses against my thigh, tempting me to grind against him and then swallow the moans he gives me. When his hands tighten and he pulls back from the kiss, I frown.

  “We need to talk,” he says and my heart plummets rapidly.

  I may not be a relationship expert or anything, but I’ve seen enough TV to know nothing good comes from the phrase we need to talk.

  Climbing off his lap, I settle on the couch beside him with a lump in my throat and a hard knot in my stomach.

  “Okay, well, if you’re dumping me, can we make this quick? I’d rather we just rip the band-aid off.”

  “What?” Jackson’s eyes go wide and he reaches for my hand. “Why would I break up with you?”

  “I don’t know. If that’s not what this is, then what do we need to talk about?”
>
  His smile tightens as he twines our fingers together, his gaze dropping to our hands and staying there as he seems to search for the words. It feels like an eternity of waiting, counting my own heart beats simply to have something to do other than speculate about what he wants to tell me.

  “I talked to my publicist today,” he starts, and it does nothing to ease my fear. “There are rumors going around about the two of us being together. I’m guessing someone spotted us dancing or something and sold the story to the tabloids,” he gives me an apologetic smile as he explains.

  “I fucking knew this was going to happen.”

  I shake my head and try to tug my hand out of his, waiting for the metaphorical axe to fall. He is dumping me, or at least his publicist told him he has to. Maybe he’s hoping I’ll do it for him so he won’t have to.

  “It’s not that bad,” he assures me. “She told me it was salvageable as long as we—”

  “Break up?” I guess.

  “Cameron, would you stop yammerin’ and listen to me?” Jackson snaps and for some reason, his irritation is cute as hell. He’s always so patient and sweet, it’s kind of nice to see a different side of him for a few seconds.

  “Sorry.” I mime zipping my lips so he’ll continue.

  “As I was sayin’, she says it’s totally salvageable, but we need to come out as a couple. She said if we get out in front of it with a public statement, it’ll be for the best. She didn’t say for certain, but I get the feelin’ if we make it the kind of gooey, sweet love story the public loves then no one will care about your job.”

  “So, if we want to stay together we have to tell the world we’re madly in love?” I repeat, feeling a little sick.

  I’ve spent the past year living a lie, and now I need to pile on more? Not that I don’t love Jackson. How could I not? He’s good to my mom, he’s cute and sweet. He’s the kind of genuine person I didn’t think existed in real life. He’s amazing, of course I love him. But how could he feel that same way about me? I’m just a porn star with dreams I’ll never be able to reach. And the thought of Jackson telling the whole world he’s in love with me just to save his career honestly makes me want to vomit.

  “I know it’s a lot to consider…”

  “It’s more than a lot,” I counter, as the weight of it all really sets in.

  If we go public with our relationship, it means I’ll be going public about doing porn too. There will be pictures of Jackson and I together in every magazine in the world with the headline Television Star Dates Gay Porn Star. Julie and everyone at the wildlife rehab will know. Oh god…my mom will know.

  My throat feels too tight and every breath is a struggle as I lean forward and put my head between my knees in an attempt to calm myself down. My life will be ruined, Jackson will become a laughing stock for dating someone like me, and everything will fall apart.

  “Deep breaths for me, Cam,” Jackson instructs in that magically calming voice he somehow manages every time I need it. His hand lays on my back, warm and soothing as I struggle to draw slower, deeper breaths.

  He doesn’t seem to get impatient as he coaches me through breathing for what has to be at least ten minutes, and I add that to the list of reasons I’m head over heels for him. And that’s really the crux of it, isn’t it? My choices are to tell the world I’m a porn star or lose Jackson.

  I sit back and turn my head to look at Jackson. He reaches over and wipes his thumb across my cheek, brushing away tears I didn’t realize were there.

  “We don’t have to do this,” he assures me. “I’ll tell Katie we need to keep it quiet, and if it means I end up having to leave the show, or whatever other consequences there are, I’ll deal with those.”

  “No.” I grab his hand and kiss his rough, calloused palm. “I’ll do it. Do you think we have a couple days so I’ll have a chance to warn my mom ahead of time though? I don’t want her to find out reading US Weekly.”

  “Are you sure? I’m serious, Cam, we don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

  “I’m not really comfortable,” I admit. “I don’t care about telling the world I’m…bi, or whatever. But telling the world I take it up the ass for money? Yeah, that’s a bit embarrassing.”

  “I didn’t even think about it that way,” Jackson confesses. “I forget about these two separate lives you have.”

  “I know, it’s okay,” I assure him. “It’ll be fine. I should probably warn Bear too,” I muse. “Oh man, I bet Rebel’s going to have a joygasm when I tell him. If this isn’t good publicity for Ballsy, I don’t know what is. People will be buying subscriptions by the thousands to watch your boyfriend suck dick.”

  Jackson frowns before pulling me closer and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

  “I’m going to make sure Katie spins this in a positive light. No one is going to write a single negative word about you.”

  I chuckle against his shoulder. “Pretty sure you don’t have a say in that, but thank you.” I turn my head and kiss his cheek. “Do we really have to lie about our feelings though? All the love stuff I mean…”

  My heart hurts all over again at the idea of having the world think Jackson is in love with me when he’s not.

  He tenses and stills and then clears his throat. “Right…I’ll…uh, talk to Katie about that part.”

  “Thank you.” I sigh, settling closer to him and letting the rhythmic feeling of his breathing soothe me, until I start to realize just how bad I smell. “My god, how are you holding me right now when I reek of animals?”

  Jackson laughs, tightening his grip.

  “It’s kinda nostalgic, I like it,” he teases, pressing his nose against my neck, followed by his lips.

  “That’s just nasty,” I complain, pushing him away playfully. “I’m going to go shower, and then I’m going to think about how to tell my mom I’m in porn.”

  “I’ll come with you to your ma’s,” he offers.

  “Of course you will, I’ll need you to talk her off the ledge after my confession.”

  I’m only half-joking on that one. The thought of telling my mom the truth and shattering her image of me sits like a stone in the pit of my stomach all through my shower and for the rest of the night.

  31

  Jackson

  I’m worried about him. He called his mom, and the nurse picked up to say she was having a bad day and was asleep. He said he’d stop by tomorrow.

  I can tell how torn up he is about it, how scared of her reaction. And not just hers, but everyone’s. In a way, it’s like coming out, I guess. He has to tell everyone he’s doing porn and then possibly face their scorn and rejection. And as much as I would like to tell him it’ll be okay, I can’t.

  His mom will love him no matter what, of that I’m certain. She’s too loving and accepting to react any other way, though it may shock her to hear what he’s been doing to pay the bills. If I have her pegged correctly, she’ll be more guilty than angry. It’s quite something to hear your son has been doing porn just to make sure you’re taken care of.

  But his coworkers, I don’t have a clue how they’ll react. He makes them sound nice and friendly, but that may change when his secret is out. Gosh, I wish I could protect him from this…but I can’t.

  He’s barely said a word to me since he showered and went to bed early. When I peek around the corner, I see he’s still awake, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. I could ask if he’s okay, but that would be useless, since he’s clearly not. Instead, I undress and slide under the sheets next to him.

  When I reach for him, he allows himself to be pulled close, and he nestles his head on my shoulder. A rush of emotion courses through me. I love him so much, and it breaks my heart to see him in pain. But is he ready yet to hear that big word for me? Will it help him now?

  Honestly, I don’t think it will. It’ll only make him feel more guilty for possibly ruining things between us, for making things harder for my career. He said it himself, he d
oesn’t want us to pretend about the love stuff, as he called it. He has no idea of the depth of my feelings, that much is clear.

  So no, I can’t tell him just yet…but maybe I can show him? I turn on my side, bringing our faces an inch apart. He looks so forlorn, and I raise my hand to brush through his messy hair, then cup his jaw and gently kiss him. It’s like I gave water to a dying plant, and he opens up for me, leaning into my touch, my kiss. He needs me, and the thrill of that makes me shiver.

  “Cam,” I whisper. “You’re so beautiful.”

  He smiles a little.

  “I mean it, darlin’. You take my breath away.”

  He lets his forehead rest against mine for a few seconds and then kisses me with a need bordering on desperation. “Jackson…”

  “I know, darlin’,” I say. “I’ve got you.”

  We kiss until our bodies are on fire, but it’s a slow burn tonight, a kindling that grows stronger and stronger until it burns brightly. I pour out all my love for him in my hands, my mouth, as I explore every inch of his body.

  His ears, which I love to suck on for some weird reason. His lobes are sensitive, but it drives him really crazy when I nibble on his ear shell. He shivers under my touch, clinging to me as if drowning.

  His nipples, which are so wonderfully sensitive to my mouth. They become little pebbles when I suck on them, and the noises he makes are so gorgeous. I’m becoming quite the expert at multitasking, sucking one while teasing the other with my fingers, and then switching until he’s moaning.

  His bellybutton, which I discovered is an erogenous zone for him. I tongue it for a little bit until he’s writhing beneath me. My hands are under him now, grabbing his ass and kneading those firm globes gently. I love how soft his skin is there, but I love even more how he spreads his legs for me, so eager for more.