Desired

by Bianca Giovanni

  A couple of female performers come up to the front of the booth to greet fans/customers, and I don’t want to stick around to see if The Bitch Who Shall Not Be Named will be with them, so I tug James in the other direction and we start going toward the section where the Electric Lady booth should be located.

  A few other douchey guys stop us as we pass through the corridors to the booth, which looks pretty impressive. It’s a large block with a loft platform about twelve feet off the ground. The bottom section contains a long table with a single chair and another table with three cash registers. There are flat-screens adorning the back wall and the borders of the loft, each showing a loop of clips and trailers for various Electric Lady films. There’s a large “backstage” area, quarantined off by a black curtain on one side and a large step-and-repeat banner with the company logo on the other side. This is a big operation. I knew Shawnna had cash, but this had to set her back a few bucks.

  “Darling!” An older brunette beams as she walks over and hugs James around his hips.

  She’s not Shawnna. Shawnna is blond. This girl is a former star named Veronica Kane. I know this because James briefed me on the business side of Electric Lady. The entire board is made up of former female stars and the company is run by women for women. They’re the leader in the growing female-friendly market for “couples erotica” and landing James Langdon was a big get for them.

  “And you must be Lola,” she says, smiling at me and giving me a hug. “Shawnna will be so thrilled to meet you. I know she was really hoping you’d come today.”

  “Absolutely,” I reply. “I really wanted to meet her and see the setup down here.”

  “Well, right this way then, darling,” Veronica says, leading us behind the tables to the black curtain.

  Inside is a small room—I use that term loosely because the walls are made of step-and-repeat banner. There are two card tables, one with four chairs and a half-eaten container of salad and another topped with snacks and drinks.

  There are two guys lifting boxes, likely containing James’s toys and DVDs, as a petite, very toned blond woman dishes out instructions on where to put the products when the signing starts.

  She turns around, her huge blue eyes opening wide, and she rushes over to James. Her arms shoot up over his shoulders, and he squeezes her around her waist, lifting her up and kissing her cheek.

  “My baby! I’m so happy to see you,” she says warmly as he puts her down. “You look fantastic. Look at those arms! I’ll take two tickets to the gun show, please!”

  He blushes. Shawnna Hendrix makes James blush.

  “And you must be the lovely, beautiful, enticing Miss Lola,” she says, hugging me and giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  “You did all right for yourself with this one.” She grins at James as she motions to me. “What a beauty!”

  “Wow! Thanks!” I beam. Now I’m blushing too.

  She hands us a couple bottles of water, and James grabs a handful of carrots from the veggie platter as we sit down at the table.

  “Is this your first convention?” she cheerfully asks me, putting her hand on mine like we’re on a talk show.

  “I went to our local Comic-Con once when I was little, but this is the biggest one I’ve been to so far.”

  “It’s fun. The fans are great…for the most part. Sometimes you can get the unruly ones who think they can grab your tits or your ass, but they’ve been pretty well-behaved so far,” she says with a smile. “I’m just so happy you guys could make it.”

  “Of course we made it.” James nods. “Shawnna, you’ve basically saved my ass. I’d do anything for you, babe.”

  I will not get jealous. Shawnna is just a good friend to him, even if they have had sex many, many times.

  “You should have seen the response we got on Twitter,” she says, grabbing her face like she’s in shock. “There are girls flying in just to meet you.”

  “Really?” He looks genuinely surprised.

  “I had a girl from Canada tweet us to say that she’s flying two thousand miles just to meet the man she fantasizes about while she has boring sex with her husband,” Shawnna muses.

  “No way!” He laughs.

  “That’s right, big shot,” she teases. “Ladies’ll be lined up around the block.”

  About twenty minutes pass as we chat about the business. I learn that porn isn’t raking in dough the way it used to back before broadband and that it’s important for stars to build a personal brand. Shawnna’s company encourages stars to cultivate a social media following and they’ll often “leak” clips from new movies onto the popular “tube” sites that distribute free, user-uploaded porn to help generate a buzz for the upcoming title.

  As she talks, I can see why she loves James so much. His personal brand is more valuable than Apple in this industry. His website gets a ton of hits, and subscriptions increase every year despite the availability of free porn. He’s big on social media, and he answers fan questions and gives out sex advice on his Tumblr blog. He’s great at marketing himself, but more importantly, he’s genuine. James has never thought of things in terms of outward appearance. When he says something nice to someone, it’s because he means it, not because he’s trying to look like a good guy. I think the transparency of social media has really helped people see that good-natured person behind the hot bod and the huge dick, and that’s what’s shot him to the top of the game so fast.

  When we peek back out from behind the curtain, I see that a gigantic crowd has gathered in front of the booth. Showtime, stud.

  While the demographic in the exhibit hall is largely male, this booth must have drawn in every woman in the building, because I see more female faces than I have all day. He’s like Jupiter and they can’t escape his gravitational pull. There are gasps, swoons and excited squeals when he steps out and waves at the crowd.

  “They’re crazy about him. It’s like Beatlemania,” Shawnna jokes to me, nudging me with her shoulder.

  I laugh and watch from behind the scenes as he sits down and takes out a Sharpie from the box on the table.

  Shawnna and I comment like we’re sportscasters as fan after fan moves up to the table to greet the apparent King of Porno.

  There are young women who might possibly still be in high school, soccer moms who probably sneak in a quick session with their battery-operated James toys when their kids are asleep, young douchebags like the guys from earlier, older men who want to shake his hand and take a picture with him like he’s Sylvester Stallone, and a few gay guys who’ve probably only watched straight porn to see my stallion of a boyfriend.

  I know James wants some pictures of this to put on his blog, so I sneak out and stand on a box so I can look over the crowd and snap a few shots with my iPhone. There are easily two hundred people here, and I’m glad that we’ve allotted at least an hour for the signing.

  As I look down at James, I can’t help but smile at the way he really pays attention to each person he meets, particularly the younger girls who seem nervous to meet him. He looks in their eyes, jokes with them to ease their tension, and calls them “sweetheart” a lot. He’s such a natural flirt that every single one of them leaves with that fluttery look you see when a girl talks to her high school crush. A Goth girl with black hair parted over her eye seems incredibly meek when he shakes her hand, but after two seconds, she’s giggling and kissing his cheek when her friend takes a picture of the two of them. This is how he’s always operated. It’s disarming. He can instantly make any girl relax, and that’s been the foundation of all his sexual accomplishments. James Laird: Pussy Whisperer.

  I’m feeling a bit smug as the signing starts to wrap up. These girls all know James Langdon, the confident hottie who makes a girl drop her panties with just a hello. I know mild-mannered James Laird, the goofy dude who once texted me a picture of himself wearing a leather duster with no shirt because he thought it made him look “way badass.”

  When we step behind the curtain, he graciously tha
nks Shawnna, who enthusiastically thanks him back. I can see why he likes her so much. She’s so outwardly warm and friendly; plus she’s proud of him in that you-did-good-kid kind of way he never got from his parents.

  As we’re getting ready to leave, a tattooed guy who was carrying boxes out to the front earlier comes darting over to Shawnna.

  “We’re out of the plain dildos, and I’ve only got, like, three of the vibrating ones left,” he says breathlessly.

  “But there are more in the truck, right?” she asks.

  He shakes his head. “Not the Langdon ones.”

  “Shit, Kenny, I thought we brought two hundred of them!” she says, shaking her head.

  “We did,” he replies. “After he signed, they started selling out. One lady bought ten, said she was going to give them out at her friend’s bachelorette party. People are getting pissed. This one chick offered me three hundred bucks if I’d sell her the one I was getting for another lady. I thought they were gonna go to blows over it, man.”

  “All right, let’s start doing coupons, maybe ten percent off for the inconvenience and send people to the site to order them.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell ’em.” He nods. “But I don’t think they’ll be happy.”

  “I’ll be out there in a flash.” She turns to us, not noticing my surprised expression. “You two should probably leave out this way,” she says, moving the banner so we can slip out the side. “Don’t want to start a riot.”

  “Thanks, babe,” James says, kissing her cheek and taking my hand.

  “See you kids soon.” She smiles and waves goodbye.

  When we’ve escaped the horde of horny ladies clamoring for all things James Langdon, I turn and give him a big grin.

  “What?” he asks.

  “She sold two hundred of them already.”

  “Yeah, kid,” he says with a cocky smirk. “I’m not sure how to break this to you, but I’m a pretty big deal. A lot of people dig me. Much like Ron Burgundy, I own several leather bound books and I’m sure you’ve noticed that the house smells like rich mahogany.”

  I laugh loudly and lean into him before tugging at his collar again so he’ll bend down enough for me to kiss him without standing on my tiptoes.

  Maybe I’m ignorant, but I never knew there was such a market for sex toys. James has made a substantial chunk of money from these things—and I mean very substantial—and people are raving about them.

  My cheeks grow warm as I recall the day he went to go make the molds. I was getting out of the shower when he ambushed me in the bathroom and snapped a picture with his phone because he said he needed it for “inspiration” while he waited for the mold to set. I chased him around the apartment for about twenty minutes trying to get him to delete it, but he held it out of my reach and refused. Apparently it worked for him, though, because these things seem to be flying off the shelves.

  “So…what do you think the odds are that I can parlay this fame thing into getting laid right now?” he asks, grinning.

  “I think the odds are quite in your favor,” I say with a matching, playful smirk.

  “Then to the room with you, my little tribute,” he decrees, taking my hand as we walk toward the exit.

  Chapter 7

  James

  FOR THE PAST FORTY-FIVE MINUTES, Lola’s been super nervous. She’s trying really hard not to show it, but I know it’s true. This red carpet thing is a big fuckin’ deal, and I think it’s just now starting to hit her.

  She moves to stand next to me, and we both look at ourselves in the mirror. I’ve got my hair pulled back and I’m wearing my new, gunmetal gray suit, but I don’t think I’m going to wear the jacket, since it feels too fancy for me. Instead, I’m just rocking the pants and the vest over my black, knit shirt and I think it looks cooler that way, more relaxed and more my style.

  Lola’s wearing a black dress that totally goes with what I have on. It’s one of the three that she brought—because she can be such a fuckin’ girl sometimes—and it’s hot as hell. It’s strapless and tight all down her body, but it’s classy because it’s got this lacy part that comes out from the waist and goes down past her knees. You can still see the short, tight dress underneath, but this makes it look all delicate and elegant. I know she picked it because it’ll be different from what everybody else is wearing. She was all paranoid about looking like a porn star, since she’s got that sexy, rocking bod, but she looks like she could be on the red carpet at the Oscars or the Golden Globes—in other words, totally not porn-ish.

  Damn! We look like a fuckin’ hot couple, like Hollywood-style hot. I’m a hundred percent sure that I’ll have the hottest girl in the building with me tonight. It’s literally impossible for anyone to be prettier than Lola right now.

  “Goddamn, Lo,” I sigh as I glance at her.

  “What?” She looks up at me innocently.

  “You look like a fuckin’ hybrid of Salma Hayek and Mila Kunis right now. You’re making me want to skip the show and just stay up here banging you all night.”

  She snorts and rolls her eyes, but she’s flattered. She has to know she’s a knockout in that dress. Hopefully she finally feels as beautiful as she is.

  “You, sir, are a total charmer,” she teases.

  “I speak the truth, dude. Guys are gonna be like, ‘Who the fuck is that chick? She’s the hottest girl here,’ and I’m just gonna say, ‘That’s right, I’m tappin’ that. Hands off.’”

  She laughs really loudly at that and she leans into me, which gives me a chance to run my fingers over the part of her back that’s exposed.

  She takes a deep breath and gives me a smile.

  “You ready?” I ask, grinning at her.

  “I hope so.”

  I know she’s freaking out on the inside. This whole time, she’s been pretending that it’s not a little bit scary to dive right into this world, but I can tell that it’s been kind of a big adjustment for her. I don’t want to put her on the spot by saying it, but I appreciate it so much. It can’t be easy to go public with somebody whose previous job was so…unconventional.

  I take her hand, lift it to my lips, and kiss her shiny new ring—the ring that shows her how much I love her—then we’re out the door and on our way to the red carpet.

  Every red carpet has handlers, usually women dressed in black, whose job is to usher you along between interviews and keep the flow going. Sometimes the stars will have their own publicists too, and those people will follow along and make sure you keep things short at each stop. The people doing the interviewing can really start going for it and asking you tons of questions, so the publicists and handlers are the ones who politely cut them off when it’s time to go. I didn’t want to hire a publicist, even though people said I should since I’m up for such a huge award, so we get two handlers and a special AVA publicist who’s been assigned to make sure I stop at all the biggest press outlets.

  “This is Jennifer, and this is Elizabeth,” Special Super Publicist says as she points to the short blond one and the even sorter brunette, “and I’m Michelle.” Michelle is also short and blond, but she looks like she’s in her early forties, so she’s probably about ten years older than the other two.

  “James,” I say, shaking their hands, “and this is my fiancée, Lola.”

  They all smile at her and then pause for a second as they look her over. She’s hot. I know it. They know it. Soon everybody here and all the people watching the coverage on YouTube and the premium cable channel that airs the awards in their “after dark” programming block will know it too.

  “Okay, so here’s the rundown. First five stops are Internet only, so let’s keep those to about thirty seconds,” Michelle explains. “After that, we have a couple print media, trades mostly, then there’s video. We want to make sure we leave a lot of time at the end because the network wants a full two minutes with you.”

  I nod. “Sounds good.”

  “Are you comfortable with people asking about your date?”
she asks, looking from Lola to me and back again.

  “I am. How about you, Lo?”

  “Yeah, I mean, we’re here together.” She shrugs.

  It makes me smile. We’re here together. Lately, Lola and I have been everywhere together, and I never want to leave her side.

  “Do you have any no-go areas? I just want to be sure to have my team step in if they start throwing things at you that you don’t want to answer,” Michelle continues. “I’m sure you’ll be asked about your retirement. Are you comfortable with that?”

  “Yes. I know that’s gonna be on everybody’s mind tonight, especially with the big nomination, so I know I have to address it.”

  Lola swallows hard and the girls don’t notice it, but I do. I think she’s nervous about those questions because she thinks people will assume she gave me some kind of ultimatum and “made” me quit. I’ve been doing my best to present the truth: that I’m deeply in love and can’t imagine sex with someone else. Still, I think Lola’s automatically a little defensive when people bring up this particular topic. I put my hand on the small of her back to let her know I’ve got her and it’ll be okay.

  “The only thing I don’t want to talk about is the Eva stuff,” I say, reluctantly volunteering that info. Most people in the biz know I got roped into some shit with her and that I’ve filed an injunction from ever letting those videos see the light of day, but they don’t know the full extent of the hell that awful bitch put me through. “I know those videos were never released, but some people know I did them, and I don’t want to get into all that shit, you know?”

  “Completely understandable.” Michelle nods, and the other two do the same.

  “But that’s it, really. Other than that, I’m down for whatever.”

  “Perfect,” Michelle says, clapping her hands once like it’s show time. “Then let’s get on out there.”

  Lola takes a deep breath and gives me an excited smile as we hit the carpet. I take her hand and weave my fingers into hers, holding her tight so she’ll feel how much I’m right here with her through everything tonight.