Crossing The Line (A Taboo Love series Book 3)

by M. D. Saperstein

  "Fuck!" I grit out, my hands leaving Chance’s hair to shove into my own.

  One of Chance’s hands grips my hip while the other wraps around the base of my dick. He continues to suck and lick. His hand starts to pump up and down my shaft. I’m moaning constantly and my hips thrust forward again on their own accord. I’ve never felt pleasure like this - pure ecstasy. I feel my orgasm building, making my breathing come out in harsh pants.

  "Chance...shit...I'm gonna..." I breathe, shoving my fingers into his hair again.

  I come with a strangled cry into his mouth, lying limp on the bed. I don’t know when my hands had fallen away from Chance’s head, but they have. He releases me and starts kissing his way back up my body. I just lie there and let him, physically unable to do anything other than try and catch my breath. As he gets to my neck, he places a couple of kisses there before moving over my jaw to kiss my mouth.

  "You know… when you come, you are seriously the sexiest thing that I've ever seen," Chance murmurs before kissing me softly on the lips.

  I just grunt in reply. I can’t form words just yet.

  "You better get up, we gotta go," he says and starts to climb off the bed.

  I grab his wrist, stopping him. He pauses, one foot on the floor, looking back at me. I roll my head to the side to look at him. "I...I feel bad. I feel like I should return the favor," I say quietly, barely able to meet his eyes.

  He smirks and gives my wrist a squeeze. "It's fine. You’re not ready for that yet, so don't worry about it."

  "You sure?" I ask warily.

  Chance nods. "Positive."

  I nod and reluctantly let him go. Chance heads for the door, sending a wink my way before walking out and shutting the door behind him. My heart flops over in my chest. What the hell is it about this guy all of a sudden that has my stomach in knots? I can’t think about it right now.

  I get up, take a quick shower, and get dressed, pulling on a pair of worn jeans and a white V-neck t-shirt. I shove my feet into a pair of flip flops and rake my hand through my still damp hair as I head out of my bedroom to go find Chance so that we can get outta here and head to the set.

  I find him in the kitchen, talking to Maribel - my maid - in Spanish. I had no idea that he speaks Spanish. Damn, that’s sexy! He’s leaning on his forearms on the counter, smiling easily at her where she stands on the other side. He is acting flirty, touching her hand where it rests on the counter between them and winking at her occasionally. Maribel is an older woman, maybe in her sixties, but she’s blushing like a teenager and giving Chance a shy smile. I’m shocked when I feel a twinge of jealousy. I wonder briefly if she heard Chance sucking my cock earlier, but then file it away. There’s no way she would be flirting with him if she had.

  I clear my throat and walk farther into the kitchen. Maribel jumps back, her head whipping around to look at me, her eyes wide. She mutters an apology in her broken English and hurries out of the kitchen. Chance gives me an annoyed look.

  "What? I didn't say anything," I complain.

  "You didn't have to, your disapproval was obvious," he says, rolling his eyes as he pushes off the counter.

  "I didn't know that you speak Spanish," I mutter as I lead the way to the garage.

  Chance follows, shoving his hands in his front pockets. "My great-grandmother is from Spain."

  I glance over my shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "Really?" I say in surprise.

  "No, not really" he answers snidely.

  I stop walking to eyeball him. “Don’t be a dick,” I spit out.

  He mustn’t have realized that I stopped walking because he practically skids to a halt, almost knocking into me.

  He steps into my personal space, meeting me square in the eye. Then he has the balls to poke me in the shoulder, spewing the greatest line I’ve ever heard. “I’m Moby motherfucking Dick, asshole, and you’re swimming in my waters.”

  I just stare at him in shock. And awe. Shock and awe. If it were anyone else, I’d punch the fucker in the face. Instead, I lean my head back and let out the loudest, deepest bark of a laugh. Damn, I needed that. Chance is still inches away, so I lean in to kiss him quickly, chastely. I must have caught him off guard because he didn’t even have time to kiss me back. I shoulder past him and start walking toward my car again, but he seems frozen in place. Oh yeah, I just shocked him the fuck back.

  I smile to myself as I hit the key fob to unlock my car. “What’s the matter Moby, Ahab stuck in your blowhole?”

  Chance doesn’t say another word. He just stares me down - eyes squinted, trying to figure out my angle. Seconds later, he shakes his head and proceeds toward my car. As he folds his sexy ass in, I notice his lips quirked up at the sides, trying to hold back a smile.

  We remain mostly quiet as I drive to the set. Once there, we go to our separate trailers to get our hair and make-up done. I replay what happened this morning in my head, trying to figure out how I feel about it. Aroused, obviously. I definitely want it to happen some more. I don't necessarily want to do the same to Chance, but I feel like I should do something because it isn’t fair just to take and not give. But can I touch him like that? Can I put my mouth on him? I stifle a shudder, I don't think so. Kissing Chance is one thing, but sucking his dick? I don’t think that is ever going to happen.

  Chapter Eight

  Chance

  I’m sitting in my trailer messing around on my phone when there comes a knock on the door. I glance up then back down at my phone as I call for whomever it is to come in. The door squeaks open. I glance up again to see Parker stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. I straighten a little on the couch I’m sitting on.

  Parker has been keeping me at an arm's length ever since that night I stayed over his house, which was two weeks ago. There has been no more kissing or anything else since. I’m trying not to feel hurt about it because I know that Parker is freaked out by the whole thing, but it’s hard not to feel something. I watch the man now as he stops just inside the door and shoves his hands in his pockets, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

  "Hey man, what's up?" I ask, trying to sound casual, setting my phone down on the couch next to me.

  Parker glances at me nervously, his hand going to the back of his neck to rub it. He clears his throat. "Jerry is ready to do the first sex scene," he says hoarsely.

  Jerry is the director. I nod. "Okay," I drawl, looking over Parker’s obvious nervousness. "Are you ready?" I ask carefully.

  Parker’s worried blue eyes meet mine. He licks his lips, a movement I can’t help but follow with my eyes. Parker runs a shaky hand down his face and shakes his head. "I...what if..." he stammers, dropping his hand so it slaps against his thigh.

  I bite back a smile as I realize exactly what’s making Parker so upset. He doesn’t want to get all hot and bothered in front of the crew. "How long until we start shooting?"

  "Ten minutes," he says distractedly as he starts to pace, one hand on his hip, the other squeezing the bridge of his nose.

  I push up from the couch and go to him. I take his arm, stopping his pacing. Parker sighs heavily and turns to look down at me grimly. I rub my hand up and down his arm to try to calm him. He looks really good at the moment in dress pants and a dress shirt that has the first couple of buttons undone. He is clean-shaven, which makes the dimples on his cheeks more pronounced.

  "I could take the edge off for you, that way you'd already be drained and wouldn't get hard as quickly, if at all," I suggest, stepping in closer so that my body brushes against his.

  His breath catches and his eyes widen. He takes a step back and bumps into the counter of the little kitchenette. "I can't...no, you don't have to," he breathes.

  I roll my eyes and step up to Parker. "Parker, we're going to be naked on set, pretending to have sex. I know you don't want to get hard in front of the crew and I'm giving you a solution here that will most likely help, just let me take care of you, alright?" I say, ducking my head to try to catch his eye
s that are staring down at the floor.

  Parker’s nostrils flare with the force of his breaths, his mouth is set in a grim line and his body is trembling slightly. His light eyes lift to meet mine. I have my answer without Parker ever having to say a word. It’s all in his eyes. He wants it. He wants me to make him come.

  I clasp the sides of Parker’s face and kiss him. He freezes for a moment before sinking into the kiss, his hands tentatively settling on my hips. I press my body against his, loving the feel of the hard muscles under his clothing. I’m seriously psyched about us getting naked together. I have seen Parker naked already, but I’m dying for another look. The man is perfection. I could care less if I get hard in front of the crew. It’s mostly men anyway and I’m not ashamed of my body's reaction to physical contact, whether it’s with a woman or a man. But Parker, he is so concerned about what people will think of him. That people will think he is gay.

  Parker kisses me back, but it’s nothing like the heated one that we shared at his place. I drag my hands down over his neck and down his chest. Parker’s grip on my hips tightens slightly as he pulls a breath in through his nose. My hands slip lower, over his rock hard abs before stopping at the top of his dress pants.

  "You’re gonna have to do better than this," I rasp against his lips.

  Parker pulls back slightly. "What do you want from me?" he asks, his voice pained.

  "At least act like you fucking want it and enjoy it. How are you going to do it on screen if you can't do it when it's just the two of us?" I snap as I start yanking at his belt buckle to get it open.

  Parker’s head falls forward, his forehead landing on my shoulder. He sighs heavily, his hands sliding around my waist to hug me. "I'm sorry, Chance, I'm just...you have no idea how torn up I am inside, how utterly lost I am, how confused and scared I am," he whispers.

  I sigh and place a hand on the back of his head. "This is not going to make you gay. This movie is...it's just a part you're playing. You are not your character. So what if you get turned on in the process? Find me a guy who wouldn't. Us men, we're easy, it's just our nature."

  Parker lets out a reluctant chuckle and lifts his head. His blue eyes glittering with amusement. "You know, you're making it really hard to keep disliking you," he murmurs, a hint of a smile on his face.

  I bark out a laugh and shake his head. “Yeah, ditto."

  He snorts.

  I watch him for a moment and something passes between us. Some kind of connection that hadn't been there before. We are wrapped in each other’s arms, staring at each other. My heart is pounding. I have a feeling that I’m not going to be coming out of this experience the same man. I like this feeling of being in another man's arms way too much for me to ever go back. Well, not exactly any man's arms. It’s Parker’s arms that I enjoy. I don’t think that I’d feel this way about any other man.

  Parker then bends his head down and captures my lips. I immediately moan. This is what I’ve been craving for two weeks now, being back in Parker’s arms. I am just about to undo his pants when there is a knock on the trailer door. Parker jumps back so fast that he ends up pushing me, and I almost fall into the door. He quickly buckles his belt then moves to sit on the couch. He leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and clasping his hands together in front of his mouth.

  "Yeah?" I growl in frustration at the door.

  The door opens and the director's assistant Morgan peeks her head in. "Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Steele, Jerry is ready for you now," she says, glancing between the two of us.

  "Thanks, Morgan, we'll be right there," I say with a tight smile.

  She nods before leaving, shutting the door behind her.

  Parker lets out a breath that he has apparently been holding and covers his face with his hands.

  "Looks like we're out of time," I mutter. "Come on, Ramone.” I use a new nickname to lighten the tension now surrounding us. It’s suffocating. “Pull yourself together. We have a sex scene to shoot."

  “Ramone? Seriously. And where did you come up with that gem?” he asks sarcastically, and I’m glad he took the bait.

  “I don’t know, I was just thinking. Hamilton. Shortened to Hamil. Dorothy Hamil. Dorothy. She’s from the Wizard of Oz. Ooh, Ozzy Osborne. He’s in the band Black Sabbath. Which made me ponder...What is my favorite band? Then I came up with the Ramones. See? That’s how I got from Hamilton to Ramone,” I state, as simply as if I was telling him that the sky is blue. I am the king of distraction.

  He looks at me disbelievingly. “I don’t know if I should be offended that you got Ramone from Hamilton, or embarrassed for you that your favorite band is the Ramones,” Parker says incredulously. Why isn’t he laughing?

  I smile wryly. “Well, it was either that or Hendrix. I didn’t think you would appreciate being called Jimi.” I laugh nervously.

  Parker leans his head back and lets out a bark of a laugh. I needed that. He shakes his head at me and starts to walk away. “No, Steele, I don’t suppose I would.”

  With that, I head out of the trailer and follow him to the set.

  Parker

  I stare at the open set door. Fuck! It’s now or never. I was just kissing Chance and we would have gone even further if we weren’t interrupted. My mind is swirling. What would Chance have done to me had he been able to keep going? Did it matter? Whatever it was, I had wanted it, and wanted it bad. This is going to be a disaster. I am already hard and now the crew will think I’ve switched teams. Which I haven’t. Have I?

  I groan then push my feet to step on set. When I walked out of the trailer, I shut the door behind me, only to see Chance open it again, walking behind me toward the set. The sneak distracted me with that Ramone ditty, but now I’m back to being caught up in my own thoughts. My body slows down as my mind continues to race, giving him the opportunity to strut past me. I have to admit, the man is built perfectly. I watch him walk...no...swagger, is more like it. Something about it, I find attractive. He doesn’t have anything feminine about him, he is all male, and it makes my heart race for whatever reason.

  Chance slows then comes to a stop at the door to the set. He turns, his eyes immediately meeting mine. He motions with his head for me to follow as he goes inside. I take a deep breath and force myself to move.

  When I walk on set, it is set up like the hotel room Wade and Jackson are staying in. I walk over to the director and Chance so that we can go over how the scene is going to go. Once we are all clear, we take our places. Both of us are shirtless and Jackson is supposed to be helping Wade clean up some cuts on his back before the scene gets more heated. And boy does it get steamy.

  "CUT!" calls Jerry, the director.

  I collapse down next to Chance in the bed, shifting the sheet that covers us so that I can lie on my back. We are both sweaty, and I am so turned on that I am just about ready to fuck Chance for real, which scares the shit out of me. Chance is lying on his stomach under the sheet. We are both naked underneath, having both opted out of the modesty pouch thingy; it wouldn't have stayed, anyway, as we are both hard as rocks. I throw my arm over my eyes and try to slow my heart rate and control my desire. Thank god for the sheet, otherwise everyone would have known that I was literally rubbing my erection between Chance’s ass cheeks. It felt incredible and I almost came right before Jerry called “cut.” Chance must have been close, too, because he was panting and his moans were sounding very real.

  Chance’s hand stretches out and pats me on the chest. "Good job, buddy," he mutters.

  "Shit, man, I almost lost it. A couple more seconds and you would have had jizz on your back," I whisper.

  I feel Chance shift next to me so I lift my arm to see what he is doing. He has lifted his head and is now smiling lazily at me. I can’t help but return the smile.

  "What?" I ask, curious about the look on his face.

  "Nothin’," he says, shaking his head.

  I narrow my eyes at him but let it go. "I think I'm gonna need to get laid tonight," I mutter, star
ing up at the ceiling.

  Chance shifts closer and I can feel his breath on my lips. "You can fuck me," he whispers so quietly that I’m not sure I hear him right.

  I lift my arm again, my eyes wide. "What?" I breathe.

  Chance’s face is mere inches away from my own, his dark brown eyes boring into mine. "I want you to finish what we started here," he says so quietly that only I can hear him.

  I shake my head, slowly at first before speeding up. "No, definitely not, not gonna happen, Chance," I blurt.

  Chance’s face hardens. His jaw clenches and he looks away. He doesn't say another word, just rolls away and takes the towel that one of the assistants left on the bed for us. He wraps it around his waist before heading off set. My gut twists. Shit, he’s upset now. Or pissed. Whatever he is, I feel like an ass. But what did he expect? I have barely touched him, other than what I had to do for this scene. There is no way that I’m ready or even willing to do more than what I already have.

  I take the other towel from the bed and wrap it around my waist as I climb out of the bed. I’m not going to sleep with Chance. So who can I get to take the edge off this time? I’m not in the mood for Olivia again, or any of the other women I could booty call. Nah, none of them interest me. Time for new blood. Looks like I’m going to be dropping in on old Calvin tonight at Club Masquerade.

  Chapter Nine

  Parker

  Club Masquerade – or as those familiar with it, Club M – is an exclusive upscale sex club owned by one of my best friends, Calvin King, better known to you as Charlie’s husband. It is a membership only club, and all precautions are taken to ensure everyone’s safety, including background checks. It’s perfect for me because it is also completely anonymous. Everyone has to wear a mask, and nobody can speak. See? Perfect.

  I’m in a piss poor mood, so I’m not as friendly with Monica, the girl at the door, as I usually am. She must see it on my face because she doesn’t press me. I grab my nametag and in-house messenger from her as I slide my mask down my forehead. She raises an eyebrow in question and I know exactly what she is asking. Yes, I need a key for a VIP room tonight. She hands me an oversized brass key and I briefly enjoy the familiar bite of sharp, cold metal on my palm. The irony not lost on me that I’ve already unlocked one too many doors today.