The Princess and the Porn Star

by Lauren Gallagher

  Like the night after he took me to the House on the Beach, when we locked the world outside and had sex like nothing else even existed. When it was just us, a bottle of nonalcoholic cider, a piano and a beach that I could have walked up and down for the rest of my life. It was perfect. Perfect. And even that night still had the taint of the media’s morning-after commentary.

  My throat ached, and I brushed at my stinging eyes in case a tear tried to slip free.

  Damn it, why did Quinn have to pick this weekend to take a couple of days off? I made huge demands of his time, and he never complained about it except in jest. I steadfastly refused to contact him when he was on vacation. No matter how much I needed him.

  I picked up my phone. Though, I’d long ago deleted my dealer’s number, I knew people who knew people. With a few phone calls and some cash, I could have anything I needed within the hour.

  I scrolled through my numbers.

  She knows a few people.

  My skin crawled.

  He knows a good one.

  My heart pounded.

  He can definitely hook me up.

  What was I doing? This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Too easy to throw too much away over a moment of impulsive stupidity. Don’t do it. But I kept scrolling. Up and down. Up and down.

  I finally stopped at one number, and before I could talk myself out of it, pressed Send. With a shaking hand, I held my phone to my ear.

  Please answer. Please, please answer.

  And on the third ring: “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Hey.”

  “What’s wrong?” Quinn’s tone was instantly serious. “Rachel, sweetheart, are you okay?”

  I dug my teeth into my lower lip, silently cursing the way my eyes stung. “I just needed—”

  “Do you want me to come over, baby? Are you at home? I can be there in twenty.”

  I blew out a breath. “You don’t mind?”

  Something rustled on the other end. “I’m on my way.”

  “Are you—”

  “Don’t move, sweetie. I’ll be right there.”

  True to his word, twenty minutes later, Quinn’s key turned in the front door.

  I pushed myself up off the couch to go meet him in the foyer. He was faster, though. I hadn’t taken three steps before he appeared in the doorway, and as soon as I met his eyes, I lost it. Just like I had in the dressing room after Blair Fox had had her way with my reputation, I fell apart.

  I didn’t do this, damn it. I wasn’t like this.

  But now that Quinn was here, I couldn’t stop myself, and I caved in. Completely fell apart.

  I distantly heard Quinn saying, “Oh, honey,” and a second later, his arms were around me. He guided me back to the couch, and we sat together.

  For the longest time, he just hugged me and let me release all this pent-up frustration.

  As I started to catch my breath, he said, “I wondered how long this was going to take.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Baby, I’m not blind,” he said. “You’ve been stressed to the bone lately, and sooner or later, something had to give.” His lips thinned. “Just figures it would happen on my day off.”

  “That’s not your fault.”

  He smoothed my hair. “So what finally put you over the edge?”

  “Lee’s working. Tonight.”

  “Oh.”

  “I don’t know why it’s bothering me tonight.” I sniffed sharply and wiped my eyes. “I’ve known from the beginning what he does.”

  “But I don’t think either of you bargained for just how stressful it would be to date a porn star publicly.” Quinn squeezed my hands. “There was no winning on this one. You keep it a secret, they’ll sniff around. You went public, they kept sniffing around.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Exactly. So now they’re trying to get my albums pulled off shelves, and ban me from the radio. Some of these people are even threatening to picket my concerts.”

  “All because of what your boyfriend does.”

  I nodded again. “You know what’s really fucked up?”

  “Hmm?”

  “It’s not the fact that he’s having sex with other women right now that bothers me.” I ran my hand through my hair to get it out of my face. “It’s the fact that everyone in the goddamned world has an opinion about it.”

  Quinn patted my hand. “They have an opinion about everything you do. Which is crap, I know.”

  “It really is. I just don’t know what to do about this.”

  “I don’t either, sweetheart.”

  “I didn’t expect you to have the answers.” I exhaled. “I just needed someone here to talk me off the ledge. I’m sorry I called you in on your day—”

  “Don’t you dare apologize,” he said, his tone simultaneously gentle and sharp. “I’d rather come in on my day off than have you falling apart alone. There will be other days I can take off.”

  “Still. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He regarded me silently for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

  I nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “Besides the fact that he’s got a battering ram in his pants—”

  I snorted with laughter and covered my mouth.

  Quinn winked, but then went on. “Besides his obvious endowment, what is it about this guy that’s got you jumping through so many hoops to keep him, well, jumping through your hoop?”

  “Jesus, Quinn.” I rolled my eyes. “Okay, but seriously, he’s…” I paused to collect my thoughts. Why? Because I can talk to him about anything? Because I’m never bored for a second around him, and he never seems bored around me? Because he’s worth it?

  “Good heavens, darling.”

  I blinked. “What? I didn’t say a word.”

  “Exactly.” He patted my knee. “But you had ‘oh my God, lovestruck’ written all over your face.”

  “What can I say? He’s just…everything I want in a man.”

  “Except he’s a porn star.”

  “I can live with that.”

  Quinn’s eyes widened. “Do you hear yourself?”

  “I’m serious,” I said. “He’s sweet. He’s a wonderful guy. I mean, if I stop and really think about it, yeah, it’s weird that he works in porn. But when I’m with him? It just makes sense. There’s no other way I can explain it. Being with him makes sense.”

  Quinn was quiet for a moment and finally replied with a simple, “Wow.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Envy, love.” He winked. Before I could ask him to elaborate, he gestured at the Xbox below my TV. “You want to kill some shit and blow off steam?”

  I wiped my eyes again and smiled. “Yes. I definitely do.”

  “You okay tonight?” Lee put his hand on my leg as we sat together on his couch the following evening. “You’ve been quiet ever since you got here.”

  “I…” Was there really any point in pretending? “Look, I’ll just be honest here. I kind of…” I paused, swallowing hard. “I kind of fell apart last night.”

  Lee sat straighter and took my hand. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine now.” I exhaled as his fingers closed around mine. “I just…sort of… Everything came crashing down, I guess.”

  He grimaced. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

  I chewed my lip. “That was part of the problem, actually.”

  He winced. “God, Rachel, I’m—”

  “Not that you weren’t at my beck and call or something,” I added quickly. “Just thinking about…about why…”

  “About why, what?” He watched me silently, green eyes so intense they almost made me forget my off mood. Then he deflated a little. “About where I was?”

  I nodded. “And not even what you were doing. What killed me…” My shoulders sank, and I let out a long breath. “What killed me is what everyone says about you and me because of that. They think I’m a whore and you’re a sleaze, and it j
ust, it drives me fucking crazy.”

  “I know, me too.” Lee slid closer to me. “But you know the truth.” He kissed me lightly. “I know the truth.” Another kiss. “And right now, that’s all that matters to me.”

  “Me too.” I pulled him closer and pressed my lips to his. I wasn’t in the mood at all, but I liked the way his kiss felt, so I didn’t stop. Neither did he. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around me. Kissing was easier than talking, less upsetting than the topics at hand, and it settled some of the fear coiling under my rib cage. Everything was always okay, it was always perfect, when we were like this, and more than ever, I needed us to be like this.

  So I held him tighter. He held me tighter. Then he laid me down on the couch, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he settled on top of me.

  No matter how much we kissed and touched, we were no closer to naked than we’d been when we started. His belt was unbuckled now, and somehow a couple of buttons on his shirt were undone, but otherwise, we were still dressed even as we feverishly made out on his couch.

  I wanted him so bad. So, so bad. But…the bedroom was so far away. And it would mean pulling apart, separating, breaking this—

  My purse.

  It was beside the couch. I reached for it and felt around blindly inside it.

  Lee’s hand slid down over mine. He looked over the edge of the couch, and my heart raced even faster when he pressed the foil packet into my palm.

  I slid out of my jeans while he pushed his down just far enough to be out of the way. I started to get out of my panties, but he stopped my hands, and instead, we both struggled to put the condom on him. Then, just like he had the very first time, Lee pushed my panties aside. I bit my lip as he pressed the head of his cock against me, my whole body trembling in anticipation of a deep, violent thrust like the first time.

  But he took me slowly. Eyes wide and locked on mine, he pushed in so slowly, I thought I’d go crazy before he was all the way inside me.

  It was exactly like the first time, and it was nothing like the first time. Too needy and hungry for each other to bother stripping off clothes.

  With one hand on the back of his neck, I slid the other between us. As I circled my clit with my fingertips, Lee sucked in a hiss of breath. The couch squeaked and groaned under us, but even that sound faded into the background as my climax took over.

  Lee groaned. Thrust into me harder, faster. Then he shuddered, and collapsed over me. I wrapped my arms around him and stroked his hair.

  We caught our breath. The last aftershocks rippled through us. The air around us stilled.

  And the weight of the universe settled back in on my shoulders, pressing down and pulling muscles taut beneath my cooling, sweat-dampened skin. We’d escaped it for a few minutes, but there was no avoiding the world outside. There was no pretending it didn’t exist.

  He lifted his head. “You okay?”

  I exhaled and shifted my gaze away. How the hell did I answer that?

  “Rachel?”

  I closed my eyes. “I don’t know.”

  We separated. He got up off the couch long enough to get rid of the condom, and by the time he came back, we’d both put ourselves back into some semblance of order. If not for his slightly disheveled hair or my rumpled clothes, no one would have ever known we’d been making love just a few minutes ago.

  He sat beside me and took my hand. We were both quiet for a long time, joined at the hands and otherwise separated by a wall of silence. Things needed to be said, but what I needed to say and what I wanted to say were very, very different. One was just a shorter road than the other to the inevitable.

  I pulled in a deep breath. “I honestly don’t—” Hesitating, I looked down at our hands. God, he had such beautiful and talented hands. He—Rachel, you’re stalling. I cleared my throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Lee squeezed my hand. “Maybe it’s better if we don’t.”

  My heart should have dropped, and a cold rush of panic should have flooded my veins. They didn’t. I was just too damned exhausted to do anything except nod as an ache rose in my throat. My shoulders sank as I released a breath.

  Lee cupped my face in one hand and touched his forehead to mine. “You’re going to be back on tour soon. I’m filming again. We probably won’t see much of each other anyway.”

  “I know. You’re probably right.” I sniffed. “Guess it’s easier to do it now than later.”

  Lee nodded. “Yeah. Now, instead of over the phone or something.” He stroked my cheek. “And while things are still…”

  “Simple?”

  “Something like that. Before they get too serious.”

  “Before feelings…before feelings start getting involved.” And I wondered if he believed any more than I did that they weren’t already.

  “Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “Before feelings start getting involved.”

  I held his gaze. I could have stayed that way all day long, just sitting there and looking in his beautiful eyes, but deep down, I knew if I stayed like this much longer, we’d wind up in bed together. And then we’d be back where we started, and leaving would be harder. Maybe even impossible.

  I gently withdrew my hand. “I should go.”

  Part of me expected him to try to convince me to stay, but he just nodded. “Okay.”

  We both got up. It was weird, walking down the hall from his living room to his foyer with the conspicuous absence of his hand on the small of my back.

  He opened the door, and we both paused. I’d never broken up with someone like this, going out with a whisper instead of a screaming match, and I didn’t even know how. I didn’t know what the appropriate punctuation mark was at the end of this sentence.

  “Just so you know”—Lee smiled, though his eyes were still sad—“even with all the bullshit with your label and the gossip rags, it was…it was fun. Being with you for a while.”

  I managed to smile back in spite of the weight in the center of my chest. “Yeah, it was.” The smile got a little easier. “And I’ll still be around on Xbox.”

  Lee nodded. “Good. I’ll be there too. We can kick some ass together.”

  “Yeah. We can.” I gestured toward my car. “Anyway. I’d…I’d better go.”

  “Right.” He cautiously reached for me, and I hesitated, but then, oh, what the hell? I let him pull me into an embrace, and I squeezed my eyes shut as he hugged me tight.

  And then he let me go.

  And I left.

  Without looking back.

  I didn’t cry on the drive home. I really didn’t feel much of anything. Numbness, maybe? No, I wasn’t completely numb. Unsettled? A breakup, even after a short relationship, always meant some upheaval, and that always left the world shaken up until the dust finally settled.

  Relief. There was definitely relief. This tug o’ war between my personal and professional life was over. There would be others, but this one was over. In a few weeks, the media would latch onto someone else, and aside from the occasional “Taylor famously dated porn star Buck Harder” tucked into tabloid articles, people would forget about it.

  Risen Star would back off. Rich would back off. The media would find something else to do. The lewd commentary and probing speculation would stop. I’d have my career, and Lee would have his life and privacy back.

  And I would move on.

  I hoped.

  I avoided the tabloids like the plague. Easier said than done, especially when people tried to throw them in my face, but I did the best I could. For the most part, I was successful, at least until one night in my tour bus after a show in Des Moines.

  Quinn and I had just finished going over my schedule, which was concerts and interviews as far as the eye could see. The extensive concert tour should have excited me. Nothing got my blood pumping like a packed calendar of performances, because I lived for those moments on stage. But the last few nights, I’d had to drag myself onto the stage. I tapped into every reserve of energy I had and mad
e damn sure I gave every show my all, made sure the crowd got their money’s worth, but there was no high. No rush. Nothing except the vague sense of relief that I’d made it through and could get some sleep.

  Quinn took off his thick-framed glasses and rubbed his eyes.

  “Tired?” I asked.

  “I’ll be fine.” He put his glasses back on. “What about you?”

  “Same.”

  He eyed me skeptically. Then he slid out from the bench beside the tour bus table, and stood. “I should let you get some sleep, then. I need to get some myself.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  As he headed for the door, I said, “Good night, Quinn.”

  “Good night, love.” He started down the steps toward the bus’s door, but paused. He looked at the iPad tucked under his arm. Then he came back up the steps. “Can I see your iPad?”

  “Why?”

  He beckoned. “Just…let me look at something.”

  I hesitated, but then handed it to him. He set his own down and picked up mine. Furrowing his brow, he tapped the iPad. The screen reflected in his glasses, and I could see he was flipping through a few pages. The logo on top of the screen and the pictures and sidebar links were all too familiar, and something knotted in the pit of my stomach.

  Then he pressed the button on top, and the screen went dark again. He set the iPad down in front of me. “You should read that.”

  “Read what?”

  He gestured at the black screen. “Turn it on. It’ll take you right to it.”

  I looked up at him. “Quinn, if it’s an article, I’m—”

  “Rachel.” His expression was completely serious. “Just read it.”

  “Why?”

  He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. “Because pictures don’t lie.” Then he took a step back toward the door, and as he turned to go, he said, “Sometimes even the ones in the gossip rags tell the truth.”

  And with that, he was gone, leaving me with the iPad.