Porter (Dick Dynasty #1)

by David Michael

  “I couldn’t find the towels,” I put my hands on my hips and gave them my best innocent face, “and our interrupted session this morning has caused a bit of a problem.”

  Holly was the first to get her senses back and she leapt from the couch, practically sprinting past me to a closet at the end of the hall. She shoved a folded towel into my arms and tried her hardest to control the flush I could see working its way up her neck.

  I tossed it around my neck and smiled at her, “Thanks!”

  I quick jerk of my hips had the smaller towel sliding off my still-stiff cock and falling to the floor in a heap. I ignored it and had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing when Mitch squealed from his perch on the couch and Becks covered her eyes with her hands and shook her head. I was almost certain she was peeking through the cracks of her fingers. Holly just fidgeted, unsure of how to respond.

  I turned to return to the bedroom and dry off, bending to retrieve the scrap of cloth I had covered myself with and giving Mitch the show of his life in the process. I heard a strangled gurgling sound come from his throat before I straightened and left the room with a mischievous grin on my face.

  Holly chased me into the bedroom and I used her body to close the door behind her.

  “What the hell was that all about?” she hissed.

  “We’re going to let them use their imaginations to fill in the holes about what’s going on behind this door. If they have a single shred of dignity between them, they’ll slip out and let us do our business in peace,” I whispered.

  “I don’t think-“

  “Yeah,” I groaned too loudly, “do that with your tongue again. Fuck!”

  “Porter,” she tried to interrupt my performance, “this isn’t-“

  “God! I love the way you feel around me!”

  Holly rolled her eyes and pushed firmly on my chest, forcing me to take a step backwards, “They’re not going to leave, Porter. If anything, they’re going to set up a picnic outside the bedroom door and get wasted while they eavesdrop.”

  “We are not!” their voices chimed in unison from the hallway outside the door.

  Holly turned the knob and swung the door open to reveal the two of them camped out on either side of the hall with a bottle of champagne and a gallon of orange juice between them.

  They smiled up at us unabashedly.

  “I guess that’s what I get for giving you the benefit of the doubt,” I said through gritted teeth as I wrapped the towel around my waist and moved to find my clothes.

  “We lost our last communal shred of dignity a few years ago,” Becks proclaimed as she took a sip of her mimosa.

  “I think we left it somewhere in WeHo,” Mitch clarified, “Those clubs have a way of gobbling up whatever self-respect you have.”

  “Why am I still friends with you two?” Holly asked as she stepped over their pow-wow and went back into the living room.

  “The two of you are the biggest cock blockers ever,” I accused before kicking the door shut in their faces.

  I could hear their laughter even as they made their way down the hall to rejoin Holly.

  If I had known what that morning would do to the rest of my life, I might’ve done things differently.

  Looking back on it now, I’m glad I didn’t.

  “Has it really been three months?” Porter asked groggily.

  “Mmhmm,” I responded as I kissed his neck, “Three months ago today was the first time we had sex.”

  “I think I like the sex even better now,” he still hadn’t moved a muscle since I had rolled off of him.

  “I’m pretty sure I can agree with that statement. My furniture on the other hand,” I surveyed the wreckage of what had once been a lamp and an end table, “not so much. We really need to work on our landings.”

  “I’ll put it on the to-do list.”

  Those were my favorite moments. Post-sex pillow talk with Porter Hale was an experience in and of itself. He was usually the one talking everyone’s ear off, so I cherished the moments when I had the upper hand and his brain was still disconnected from the rest of his body.

  “How’d your audition go today?” I asked as I traced a finger down his bare chest. We were lying on the living room floor after barely making it inside with our clothes on.

  “It went well, I think. But in the long run, we both know it’s going to come down to politics.”

  I knew he was right and hated it. He had real talent and some serious devotion to his craft. We spent a good portion of our time together going over lines and blocking out his auditions, so I had seen first-hand what he could do. Unfortunately, most production companies couldn’t see past the horrendous mess that would come with casting a porn star in a mainstream film.

  “It’s a numbers game, Porter,” the line felt rehearsed with how many times I’d had the same conversation with Becks over the years, “You just have to keep at it. You’ll get a role eventually.”

  “I know,” he sighed, “I think I’m going to officially announce my retirement. It can’t hurt anything, right?”

  I knew exactly what kind of PR nightmare it would create for him, but if he was serious about making it in the mainstream industry, it was a good move.

  “I think it’s been long enough that people won’t really be surprised by it,” I said, “I think it’s a good move for your career, to be honest.”

  I wasn’t sure how much of that was the girlfriend in me talking and how much of it was the industry expert, but the ring of truth from both sides was loud and clear.

  “There will be some pretty upset fans, but I think you’re right. It’ll blow over relatively quickly and, hopefully, make the right impression with the guys who make the Blockbusters.”

  He was somewhere else, probably piecing together the press release he’d have to put out. Stepping away from the kind of reputation he had was never easy. I’d seen actors try and fail more times than I could count and I knew the toll it could take on a person. Most people have major issues with letting down a single person; he was being faced with letting down thousands.

  I didn’t envy him his position.

  “I should call Ryan,” he ran a hand down my back before finally sitting up, “he’s been my manager for a decade now. He should be the first to know. Then I get to figure out how to tell my brothers.”

  “You need me to do anything?” I offered, “I’m pretty good at the moral support thing.”

  “Thanks, babe,” he kissed the top of my head and helped me to my feet, “but I think I’ve got this part. Ryan and his team will handle most of the hard stuff. I just need to figure out how to break it to him gently that he’s losing a multi-million dollar client so that he doesn’t have a stroke.”

  “Does he have any contacts outside of porn? I mean, does he really have to lose you? A good manager can make or break you when it comes to this industry.”

  Porter shook his head, “I need it to be a clean break. If I’m really gonna get out of this, it’s gotta be totally and completely.”

  “I don’t think that’s really possible, Porter. Your brothers are both still major players in the game and you can’t just cut them out of your life because you’re changing direction. I have to strongly recommend you keep Ryan on-board if he has connections you can use to get a role.”

  “Hmm,” he pondered as he stepped into his jeans, “I guess I can talk to him about it. There’s a lot hanging on how this conversation goes and the best assurance I have right now is a loose hope that he takes the news fairly well. I’m gonna head home and get the ball rolling. Let’s do dinner tonight and I’ll catch you up on it then.”

  “Okay,” I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my bare chest to his before he could put his shirt on, “call me if you need anything.”

  He leaned down and kissed me, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  I walked him to the door as he slipped his shirt over his head and left without a backward glance.

  It would be at least four hou
rs before he finished his business, so I set about figuring out how to best use the time to keep myself from going crazy waiting.

  As usual, my best available option was Becks and Mitch. Those two could take my mind off just about anything.

  I shot off the text and began to clean up the wreckage Porter and I had left behind. Twenty minutes later had the distraction I very much needed.

  “Where’s Porter this evening?” Mitch asked after a cursory glance toward Porter’s usual spot on the couch, “And what happened to the end table and lamp?”

  “He’s got some work stuff to take care of.” I intentionally ignored the second half of his question.

  “Wait, he went back to making porn? I thought he was on hiatus!”

  The pure and unbridled pleasure that washed over Mitch’s face at the idea of having more videos of my boyfriend to watch made it almost pleasant for me to crush his dreams.

  “Nope. Sorry. Different kind of work.”

  “An audition?”

  “No,” he was prying, “that was earlier today.”

  “You’re killing me here, Holly.”

  “And loving every minute of it, Mitchel.”

  “No Porter tonight?” Becks asked before she had even made it all the way through the door.

  “I see where your loyalties lie,” I rolled my eyes.

  “Porter’s off making porn,” Mitch smiled over my shoulder at her.

  “He is?” The joy on Becks’ face was comparable to Mitch’s.

  “No. He’s just taking care of some work stuff,” I interjected.

  “Work stuff is porn stuff where Porter’s concerned,” she countered. Becks was more hopeful for more naked Porter than Mitch had been.

  “Not this time,” I confirmed, “he’s putting together a press release for his agent. He has some stuff coming up that needs to be addressed a little bit ahead of time.”

  “She’s holding out on us, Becks,” Mitch pouted as he returned with three glasses of wine, “I already tried. She won’t give us anymore.”

  “Secrets don’t make friends, Holly,” Becks chided.

  “You’re already my friends, Rebecca. I’m not trying to make any new ones. Besides, loose lips sink ships and I’m not done with my cruise on the S.S. Porter. You can ask him yourself the next time you see him. If he doesn’t mind telling you his business, he’ll share. If not, you can hear about it with the rest of the world.”

  “Buzz kill,” Mitch whined.

  “You don’t have a buzz to kill yet, drama queen.”

  He smiled at me and raised his glass, “Oooh! You’re right! Let’s fix that!”

  “I’ll drink to that!” Becks cried as she lifted her own glass.

  “Amen, sisters,” I touched my glass to theirs and we drank.

  “Mmm,” Becks swallowed her wine quickly, “Since you’re not in a sharing mood, I guess I’ll go first!”

  Mitch and I both stared at her, waiting for her to share whatever it was she was practically vibrating over.

  “Becks, I have wine to drink, spit it out.”

  “I landed a job today.”

  “What?” Mitch shrieked, “Honey, that’s fabulous!”

  “Becks! Why the hell didn’t you say anything sooner? You let me sit here wallowing like a little bitch through half a glass of wine!”

  “It’s nothing major, but it’s not a commercial or a shitty horror movie either! I’m pretty excited about it!”

  Mitch and I set our glasses down on the coffee table and each of us claimed a shoulder. Becks laughed at us as we snuggled up to her in celebration.

  “Even if it was a toothpaste commercial, we’d still be excited for you, babe!” I gushed. “I knew you’d make it happen!”

  “Yeah,” Mitch agreed, “as long as it wasn’t like, a denture glue commercial or something. That would be a little too far below you. I don’t think I could be proud of you for that.”

  “It’s a supporting role in a film by a new director, but it’s for a Lion’s Gate film. This is my shot at the big leagues, guys!”

  The sound of shattering glass ruined the moment and all three of us screamed like we were being shot at. When nothing else came crashing through the front of my house, we cautiously rose from the couch and went to peer through the hole in the window of my front door.

  A huge rock sat below it in my entry way wrapped in a piece of tattered paper.

  “What the fuck, Holly?” Becks asked, her hand shaking in mine.

  “When did you move to the projects, girl? This is some bullshit!” Mitch’s hand was also shaking.

  I reached down with a trembling hand of my own and loosened the paper from the projectile that had just come through my front door.

  Letters of different colors, fonts, and sizes had been cut out of magazines and newspapers and glued to the page like a ransom note from a bad movie.

  “What does it say, Holly?” Mitch asked from his position at Becks’ side.

  I licked my lips before reading it for them, “Watch yourself slut.”

  “Fuck this! I’m calling the police!” Beck’s marched up to my now-useless front door and yelled through the hole, “You hear me? I’m calling the police! I hope you enjoy jail you sick bastard!”

  I sat down on the couch in shock, both unable and unwilling to believe what had just happened. It’s not like I lived in Compton. I fished my phone out of my pocket and sent a text to Porter while Becks relayed what had happened to the police.

  “You doing okay, Holly?” Mitch sat down beside me and briskly ran a hand over my knee, “Do you need anything? More wine? Some water? Food?”

  “Wine,” I agreed, “Thanks.”

  “Of course!”

  He retrieved our glasses from the coffee table and hurried to the kitchen to fill them.

  Two glasses later, I was beginning to feel a little bit better and my shock was slowly replaced by fury.

  “Who the hell would do something like this to me?” I demanded of Becks, “I mean, I’ve had sex with one person in the last billion and a half years! That hardly makes me a slut, right?”

  “Holly, if sleeping with one person makes you a slut, I don’t even want to know what that makes Mitch.” Holly laughed into her wine, “He must be the new whore of Babylon if that’s the case!”

  “Amen to that, sister!” Mitch raised his glass to her.

  “Holly?” Porter’s voice came from the front porch.

  “In here!” I called back, “It’s open! Obviously.”

  “What kind of city do we live in where your boyfriend can get here from across town faster than the police?” Becks scowled.

  “Are you okay?” Porter hurried to where we were all piled on top of the couch and began a thorough search of my body for injuries.

  “I’m fine, Porter,” I smiled weakly, trying to push him away, “We were all sitting in here when it happened. None of us are hurt, just a little shaken up.”

  Mitch’s hand shot into the air, “I think I might’ve been hit in the penis, Dr. Porter. I can’t tell for sure though. I should probably be checked out!”

  Porter raised an eyebrow at him and I playfully slapped his arm as Becks and I giggled at his sad attempt.

  “You’re a bottom, Mitch. You don’t need a penis anyway. I think you’ll be okay.”

  Porter’s rebuttal sent Becks and I into fits of giggles.

  Mitch didn’t find it nearly as funny.

  There was a firm knock at the front door followed by the tinkling of more falling glass as more shards were shaken loose.

  “I’ll get it,” Porter rose and went to greet the police.

  “Miss Nash?” one of the officers asked, glancing back and forth between Becks and me. I raised the hand holding my wine glass.

  “That’s me.”

  I stood to greet him as his partner came around the corner as well and extended a hand in greeting.

  “I’m Officer Perry and this is my partner Officer Branson.”

  “Hello,�
� I shook hands with Officer Branson as well, “thanks for coming.”

  “We just have a few questions for you before we get any deeper into the scene of the crime.”

  “Of course, let’s have it.”

  “What time did it happen?”

  “It was just a few minutes before we called it in.”

  “I placed the call at six twenty-two,” Becks chimed in, “So we were attacked at about six eighteen.”

  Officer Perry looked to me for confirmation. “We weren’t attacked, Becks,” I nodded my head at the officer, “the time sounds about right though.”

  “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you, Miss Nash?”

  “No!” I cried, “I mean, outside of some failed Hollywood wannabes who just never made the casting cut, I can’t think of anyone who could possibly hold a grudge. And even then, do you really think someone would do this just because they couldn’t land an audition?”

  “We live in L.A., Miss Nash, you’d be surprised by some of the messed up stuff we see from jaded actors. Do you have a list of recent clients who bombed their auditions?”

  “I do!” Mitch chimed in helpfully, “I can email it to you right now, or I can fax it in tomorrow when we get into the office.”

  Officer Perry tipped his head in Mitch’s direction, silently instructing Officer Branson to take care of it.

  He asked a few more basic questions, wrote down all of our contact information, gathered up the rock and the note, then left us to clean up the mess.

  Mitch and I swept up the broken glass while Porter and Becks went to the store to find something to temporarily cover the gaping hole in my front door.

  By the time the night wound down, we were all too tired to do anything about the food situation and all three of them refused to leave me alone in the house. Mitch and Becks each took a spare bedroom and Porter and I fell into my bed, exhausted.

  “Who would do something like this to me?” I asked, annoyed when my voice shook.

  “I don’t know, Holly, but they’ll find whoever it was.”

  I lifted my head so Porter could slide his arm under me and pull me close to his side.