The Princess and the Porn Star

by Lauren Gallagher

  The platform slowed to a stop. I hadn’t been dizzy until the spinning actually stopped, and now I was lucky to stay on my feet. Lee staggered a bit too as he stepped off the platform, putting his arms out to regain his balance.

  All the arousal and exhilaration faded in favor of trying not to get queasy or fall. I stumbled toward a chair, sank onto it and leaned forward as much as my dress would allow. Couldn’t quite get my head between my knees, but this was enough to give the world a few minutes to slow down and, finally, stop.

  When I sat up, Lee was nowhere in sight. Quinn wasn’t around either, but his voice in the back of my mind reminded me I had a plane to catch.

  I carefully pushed myself to my feet. A crew member wandered past, and I stopped him.

  “Sorry, do you have the time?”

  He pulled back his sleeve. “Quarter after four.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and as he walked away, I whispered a curse. I’d be cutting it close for my eight o’clock flight to New York. Time to get out of here and hustle to the airport.

  But before I did anything else? Off with these shoes. My feet were done. Even the prospect of walking back to my dressing room was too much, and where the hell was Quinn? To hell with it. These things were coming off right now.

  I put my foot up on a bench, held my breath and leaned over to unbuckle it.

  “Need help?” Lee’s voice would have made me wobble no matter what, but balancing on one precarious heel? I was screwed.

  Hands materialized on my sides. Exactly where they’d been for most of today.

  “You all right?” His voice vibrated across flesh that still tingled from his breath.

  I put my other foot down. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks.”

  “You sure?” He loosened his grasp.

  “I’m good.”

  “Sit.” He nodded toward a nearby chair. “Before you break your ankle.”

  I hesitated, but between my aching ankle and my shaking knees, there was no point in trying to stay on my feet. So without a word, I gingerly eased myself onto the chair.

  Lee knelt in front of me. He cupped the back of my ankle with one hand just like he did yesterday, but this time, as he unbuckled the thin strap, he let a finger trail across my flesh, sending a shiver right through me. The strap loosened. He carefully slipped off the shoe and set it down beside him.

  Then he lowered my foot to the floor and beckoned. “Other foot, Cinderella.”

  I lifted my foot as he asked. “Wasn’t Prince Charming putting a shoe on Cinderella?”

  His eyebrow arched. “You want me to put it back on?”

  “No, no.” I put up both hands. “No, please don’t.”

  “Didn’t think so.” He slid his hand around my calf, and as he let it drift down toward my ankle, he looked up at me. “I’m not sure I’d make such a great Prince Charming, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh?” Leather squeaked as a shiver made me squirm in my chair. “Why’s that?”

  “Because I’m generally inclined…” He slid a finger along the strap just as he had the other shoe. Then his eyes flicked up. “I’m generally inclined to take things off rather than put them on.”

  Another shiver. Holy hell.

  From the way he laughed quietly before returning his attention to removing my shoe, he knew exactly what effect he had on me.

  “Well,” I said, pretending I wasn’t so goddamned flustered. “I need something removed; you like removing things.” I shrugged. “Sounds pretty convenient, am I right?”

  “Hmm, very true.” Lee slipped off my shoe and sat back on his heels. Holding up my shoes, he said, “Pity my work is done.”

  Oh God…

  I smirked in spite of my rising body temperature. “Definitely a pity.”

  He just snickered softly. We both stood. Now that I was barefoot, he was taller than me. A lot taller than me. Of course he’d been taller than me last night and on the platform, but here, now, there was something unspeakably sexy about looking up at him this way. Especially because he was so close.

  He lifted his hand, letting the shoes dangle from his fingers by their heel straps. “Your shoes, m’lady.”

  “Thank you.” I held his gaze as I plucked the ridiculous shoes from his hand.

  Neither of us moved. The crew and other dancers rushed past us in all directions like we were boulders in a river, their speed emphasizing our stillness, and I was right back on the spinning platform with his kiss on my tingling lips.

  I’ve kissed you. I know what you taste like. I want more. Just say the—

  Someone bumped Lee, jolting us out of the moment.

  He cleared his throat and lowered his gaze. “Well, um…” He took a step back, drawing all the air in the room with him. “I’m off to my dressing room.” As he turned to go, he paused and added a nearly inaudible, “For a while.’

  And then he was gone.

  I stood there like an idiot, shoes in my hand and heart pounding in my ears. Was that an invitation?

  My ankle throbbed, but between the cortisone and the topical Quinn had put on it earlier, it was bearable, especially now that I was off those damned stilts. And damn if my skin didn’t tingle everywhere Lee’s hands had brushed. Closing my eyes, I curled my toes against the cold, hard floor as goose bumps prickled every inch of my skin.

  And yes, my feet ached, but it was an entirely different ache that was about to send me either out of my mind or back to my dressing room to be alone.

  I’m off to my dressing room. For a while.

  And your body language and his said if you haven’t boned the bejeezus out of each other yet, it’s going to happen the moment you’re left unsupervised with him

  Well, there was only one way to find out if Lee’s comment was an invitation. I hurried out of the soundstage and headed back toward the dressing rooms. As I neared Lee’s door, I looked up and down the hall.

  No one around. No one in sight. No one to tell me to think twice.

  With my heart in my throat, I tapped on the door.

  And there he was. The white leather shirt was gone, but he still had on the tight pants and boots.

  Without a word, he stood aside, and I walked past him.

  The door clicked shut.

  I turned around.

  We locked eyes.

  Lee locked the door.

  And nobody moved.

  The banter that had come so easily earlier was gone. I couldn’t think of anything. Not a word. If there had been lyrics playing here in this silent dressing room, I wouldn’t have been able to lip-synch to them, because my mouth was only good for one thing right now.

  Lee pushed himself off the door and took a step toward me. God in heaven, the man towered over me.

  Touching my face, he whispered, “I have a bit of a confession.” I could barely think, barely breathe, and fortunately he didn’t wait for a response before he continued, “I’ve been kicking myself since last night for not kissing you by your car.”

  Somehow, I found enough air to ask, “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I”—he shuddered and pulled me against him—“I didn’t think I’d be able to stop.”

  “For what it’s worth”—I dug my fingers into the back of his neck and let my lips brush his—“I don’t want you to stop now.”

  “Thank God,” he growled and kissed me hard. Oh God. Oh my God. His mouth was instantly in one hundred percent control of mine. He forced my lips apart and demanded access to my mouth, my tongue, all the breath I’d somehow pulled into my lungs.

  One hand grasped my hair painfully tight, and the other pressed into the small of my back so there was no mistaking how hard he was.

  We were in motion, but even my instinctive need to balance myself and not crash into anything took a backseat to this hunger. Like I had onstage, I held on to him and trusted he wouldn’t let me fall. Even if he did, he was coming down with me.

  He picked me up and set me on the counter. He shoved the tight skirt onto my hips, giving
my legs more range of motion, and I wrapped them around his waist. Leather creaked. A seam ripped somewhere, but I didn’t give a damn.

  Lee pressed against me. With only thin layers of leather and cotton to separate them, his cock rubbed against my pussy, against my clit. My back arched. Whimpers and moans slipped past my lips like someone else was controlling my voice.

  His hand slid between us. From the anticipation of his touch alone, my pussy tightened, and cool ripples of electricity radiated from my clit. As his fingers pressed against my pussy through my panties, he groaned softly into my kiss. “Oh God… I want…”

  “We don’t have much time.” I kissed him again. “We… I have to… Please tell me you…” I paused to catch my breath. “Tell me you have a condom. Somewhere in this room.”

  “I do.” Without letting me go, he reached into a duffle bag beside the counter, and after only a second or two of rifling around and swearing, produced a couple of gold foil packets.

  “Put it on,” I breathed. “Please. Now.”

  He grinned into my kiss. “You don’t believe in foreplay?”

  I slid my hand over the front of his pants. “Foreplay’s what we’ve been doing all day.”

  He groaned, though I didn’t know if it was from what I said or because I squeezed his thick erection through the thin, tight layer of leather. He didn’t argue, though.

  I unbuckled his belt. He tore the wrapper with his teeth. I drew down his zipper. He wasn’t wearing anything else, thank God, and—

  Oh. Wow. I was too turned on to care if I could take him. I wanted him. All of him. Every thick, hard inch.

  I wrapped my fingers around him and stroked slowly.

  Lee closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “Jesus…”

  “Condom,” I whispered. “Please, Lee…”

  “Don’t move.” His hands were unsteady, but he managed to roll the condom on. Then he steadied himself with a hand on my hip, and I whimpered as he pressed the head of his cock against me. He pressed in just a little. I couldn’t wait, though, so I dug my heels into the small of his back and pulled him toward me. In an instant, he was inside me. All the way inside me. My vision blurred as his cock stretched and filled my pussy. A low growl emerged from the back of Lee’s throat.

  “Oh God…” He shivered, touching his forehead to mine.

  “Fuck me hard,” I pleaded. “Hard as you…hard as you can…”

  “That’s what I love to hear,” he growled, and he fucked me hard.

  Leather squeaked and the counter groaned with every thrust. I heard myself begging him not to stop. Or maybe that was just my heartbeat. Or the warm curses he whispered into my hair. Whatever. I was so dizzy and delirious and turned on beyond words, nothing mattered or even existed except Lee’s cock forcing its way into my pussy again and again and again.

  Coming this way was near impossible for me, but I didn’t care. He felt so good, hitting every perfect spot inside me. I dragged my nails across his shoulders. Lee groaned, throwing his head back, and he fucked me even harder, so I scratched him again. He thrust into me so deep, so hard, it should have hurt, and maybe it did, but it felt so good, and then he did it again and again and again, until he groaned, shuddered and stopped.

  It was quick. It was brief. And it was so, so hot.

  “You didn’t come,” he whispered, panting against my ear.

  “I don’t care.” My fingers slipped and slid on his sweaty skin as I tried to keep a grip on his shoulders. “I don’t care. That was amazing.”

  He withdrew slowly, and I gripped his shoulders tighter, desperate for some hold on him.

  He kissed me, then touched his forehead to mine. “God damn, I wish I could take you home tonight.” He paused to nip the side of my neck. “Once isn’t enough.”

  A shiver pushed my body closer to his. “I have to go, but I want… God, Lee, I want…”

  “We will,” he breathed. “Just say when.”

  Just before I kissed him again, I murmured, “Soon.”

  Chapter Six

  Lee

  I pulled up in front of my condo and parked beside a familiar blue Hyundai.

  The presence of that blue Hyundai hit my chest with a pang of guilt. How many times had I promised Marta I wouldn’t be late? Though, to be fair, I didn’t have much choice today. She and I both knew there wasn’t much wiggle room for someone at the mercy of a director, and I had called her when I left the studio to let her know I was running behind. Still, it bugged me.

  She was already inside, which I expected. When she’d first started working with me, I’d hesitated to give her a key, but quite frankly, it was hard to regret that decision when I shuffled in through the front door and she was already there with her table set up in my living room.

  As I opened the door, she looked up at me from my couch, raising an eyebrow as she peered over her tattered paperback. “Good thing you’re my last appointment of the day, Peyton.”

  “Sorry.” I offered an apologetic smile and dropped my keys on the entryway table. “You know how directors are.”

  Marta laughed. “Well, it’s not like you had to get dressed this time, right?”

  “I had to get undressed and then redressed, if you must know.” Not to mention come down from—anyway. I tilted my head one way, then the other, trying to work out some stiffness. “In and out of super-tight leather, in fact.”

  “Oh?” She grinned and slid a bookmark between the pages. “You poor thing.” She pushed herself up off the couch. Patting the table, she said, “Ready?”

  “God, yes.” I peeled off my T-shirt and toed off my shoes.

  Her brow furrowed with concern. “How in the world are you so tense after a day on that set, Lee? With all the acrobatics you’re usually doing, this should have been a piece of cake.”

  What about after one spectacular orgasm? “Uh, maybe I’m aging?”

  She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Please. You can start talking about slowing down because of age once you crack thirty. Now.” She tapped the table. “Assume the position.” Marta poured some oil on her hands. It had a vaguely piney scent, and that scent alone was enough to unwind some of the knots in my muscles.

  “Not too bad. My neck was stiff before I even got to the set,” I said. “So I think it’s just leftover from that.”

  “Anywhere else in particular bothering you?” she asked. “You look like your whole back is hurting.”

  “Just my shoulder and my neck. Again.”

  She smirked, and her eyebrow arched. “What did they have you doing with that woman?”

  I laughed and hoped she didn’t notice all these goose bumps as I eased myself onto the padded table, lying facedown. “It wasn’t from the rehearsal. I was sore when I woke up this morning.”

  “Mm-hmm. Video games again?”

  “What?” I looked up as much as I could, then let my face rest in the doughnut-shaped pillow. “How did you know?”

  “Because you only leave the console out when you’ve been playing until all hours of the night.” Her firm, warm hands materialized on my back. “And you always manage to torque your neck when you play.”

  “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”

  “And yet you still try.”

  “’A’ for effort?”

  “Something like that.” She slid her hands up and down either side of my back, gradually applying more pressure. Then her hands stopped. “Speaking of which…”

  “What?”

  “Lee…”

  I lifted my head and looked back at her as much as I could from this angle. “What?”

  She sighed. “You slept with her, didn’t you?”

  “How can you—”

  “The tiger stripes are kind of a dead giveaway.”

  If the stripes hadn’t ratted me out, the fresh goose bumps definitely did.

  “Lee, you dog.” She snickered and kept massaging my shoulders.

  “Whatever.” I rested my forehead on the doughnut pillow
again. “You don’t know who I slept with.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure I don’t.” With a playful tone, she added, “So how was it, getting acquainted with your idol?”

  I rolled my eyes. “She’s not my idol, and I wasn’t getting—”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Isn’t like you haven’t had a crush on the odd celebrity.”

  “I have.” Her hands slid over my shoulders, the heels digging into my muscles. “But I’ve never had the pleasure of putting my hands all over any celebrity I’d actually fuck.”

  I turned my head as much as I could. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bitch,” I muttered.

  She dug one hand into my shoulder.

  “Okay! Okay!” I winced. “I’m sorry!”

  “That’s better.” She went back to massaging my muscles.

  “You’re evil, you know that?”

  “Yes, we’ve talked about this,” she said. “Now stop changing the subject. Olivia Taylor. Music video. Claw marks on your back. Go.”

  “It was… interesting.”

  Her hands stopped again, this time just below my shoulder blades. “Interesting? Interesting, how?”

  “Hey, keep massaging, woman.”

  “Nuh-uh. Not until you tell me what you meant.”

  “I meant she was nice,” I said. “More down to earth than I expected. That’s all.” And hot. And an indescribable kisser. And especially hot when she’s— “She’s just really interesting.”

  Marta said nothing for a moment but finally started massaging me again.

  Under my breath, I said, “And I may have gone out for coffee with her last night.”

  “What? You went out on a date with her?”

  “How the hell is that more shocking than me sleeping with her?”

  “So you admit she’s the one you slept with?” Her hands resumed moving across my skin. I bit back a curse, and not just because the lines Rachel had etched into my flesh burned every time Marta’s slippery hands slid over them.

  I sucked in a hiss of breath. “Okay, okay. Yes. It was Olivia.”

  “And she knows what you do?”