One More Night (Backstage Pass Book 1)

by Ali Parker

  "Really? Why is that?" She got up and motioned for me to join her.

  Had I really opened up the conversation to talk about the one thing that left me feeling inadequate as a male altogether? My brother could joke about it all day long, and I understood quite well how fucking stupid it sounded when I spoke it out loud, but my dick was too big. In a way that left me without any measure of pleasure far more often than not.

  We walked to the edge of the water in silence and sat down in the sand as the moonlight bathed the shore in its ethereal light.

  "Well? Tell me." She slid her hand behind her and tilted her head toward me. The position jutted out her breasts.

  My mouth grew dry and nervousness raced through the center of my chest. What the hell was it with this woman? She shouldn't have had the power to intimidate me, but she did. It was a turn on nevertheless, so I was willing to put up with it to the point of being uncomfortable.

  "You tell me that Jace is your boyfriend that you're in love with and would never cheat on first, and I'll explain a little bit of my shit to you." I ran my hand through my hair and glanced back at the ocean. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore brought a balm to my soul that I didn't realize I needed. Maybe the trip would do me some good.

  "How are you feeling? Your stomach okay?" She turned her attention back to the water and looked up at the sky.

  "What? You're so horrible at transitions when deflecting. We need to work on this. You gotta treat it like a scene in a movie. So, like, if I didn't want to answer the question about Jace, I would have said, boyfriends are a difficult topic. They sometimes make you feel like a million bucks, and sometimes make you feel like barfing up your guts. Hey... speaking of barfing up your guts." I glanced over at her. "How are you feeling from earlier? Your stomach okay?"

  She laughed and pressed her shoulder to mine. "I don't care if the transition is horrible. The end result is the same. He's none of your business."

  "I agree, but I'm just asking about the relationship. Anyone could ask that. Fuck, they will. I promise. I'm just trying to see if you're locked into something good and solid with the guy."

  "And if I am?" Her eyes moved across my face slowly.

  She might be with him, but she wasn't with him. There was no way. She was far too much woman for the playboy-looking jock.

  "Then I'll leave you alone about being fuck-buddies." I shrugged and turned back toward the water. "I think we'd be quite compatible in the bedroom."

  "Do you now?" She moved up to her hands and knees and pulled something from the sand. A seashell. "And you really think I can do something with that monster you're packing?" Her smile was contagious, but her words drove deep into the center of me.

  "Monster. Right." I got up and stretched, trying not to let the moment drown in my own issues, and yet failing miserably. "I'm going to grab some crackers and head back to my room. This was fun. I'll see you in the morning for rehearsal."

  "What?" She looked up with a tense expression. "Why are you going?"

  "I'm tired." I turned and walked toward the condo as anger swirled in the pit of my stomach. I was quite proud of myself for not barking out some nasty comment about having to pet the monster alone.

  A friends with benefits relationship with Riley would have been the perfect answer to both of our problems, but until I figured out how to shrink my shit and she stopped pretending that the thing between her and Channing Tatum's twin was anything more than an occasional romp in the sheets, it wasn't happening.

  Funny enough, the worst part of realizing that was coming to terms with the fact that Deza was getting her way without even trying. I growled low in my chest as I walked into the cool air of the house and paused.

  I was in Rio and we weren't on a private beach at all. I wasn't going to bed like a little old man. Nursing my wounded ego would feel much better. All I needed was a six pack of beer and a hot woman. Both couldn't be too hard to find.

  Chapter 14

  Riley

  I laid in bed half the night trying to figure out what I'd done to offend Ethan. I'd gone through the denial stages first, as if surely I hadn't done anything and he was being an overly sensitive tit. So I didn't want to talk about Jace, and I didn't want to dive into a relationship with him that would leave me heartbroken by the morning.

  Deza slipped out of the room just after the sun rose, and I found myself still staring at the window, wide awake. I needed to figure out what I'd done and apologize for it, though I hated to. It would seem Ethan was nothing more than an immature ass and I would have to be the bigger person throughout our time together.

  Outside of all that drama, I still couldn't believe that I was getting ready to shoot a movie with Ethan Lewis. He was America's crush. Butterflies danced around in my chest as I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes. It would be so nice if he was the strong personality in real life that he was in his Bond films. The demanding, get-in-my-bed-and-let-me-fuck-you-senseless kind of man we all imagined him to be, and maybe he was, but he was going about it all wrong.

  Offering me a contract-like agreement to be fuck-buddies? Why not just take me to bed and explain that it's just physical before we did the dirty? I laughed at the thought. There really was no good way around it. He wanted what Jace and I had, and a huge part of me didn't want to deny him. We were in very different places. I was a complete stranger that had moved onto his side of the street, and he was someone I'd been watching forever.

  Damn I loved watching him. His dark brown hair and sexy brown eyes. The thickness of his bottom lip and his perfectly regal nose.

  A tendril of pleasure shot through my stomach as I groaned in the early morning light. Need pumped through me, and I lifted my head, listening to make sure Deza had actually left and not come back in the middle of my internal ramblings.

  I closed my eyes and exhaled softly before sliding my hands down my stomach and pushing my panties over my hips. I hadn't taken care of myself in forever, but with a wicked hot fantasy playing in my head, and Ethan being center stage to it, I needed to.

  His hands were firm on the sides of my neck and he glanced down the long length of our bodies and smiled. "Fuck, you look good. So beautiful and soft. I wanna hear you scream."

  I groaned and ran my hands down his side as he pressed me to the bed and hovered above me, looking like a god in the early morning light.

  "Then make me." I lifted my head as he swooped down and licked at my mouth. I wrapped my hands around the back of his head and held him in place as he worked his tongue deep into my mouth and rolled his hips enough to settle the thick head of his cock between my legs.

  "You sure you can handle me?" He brushed his lips by mine and moved to press his elbows into the bed just beside my head.

  Every cell in my body was lit up with desire for the man above me. He didn't seem at all uncomfortable or unsure of himself. He was every hot fantasy I'd had over the years.

  "I'm more than capable of handling you." There was no fear or worry about him not fitting. We'd make it work. I wanted to. I coveted his size and wanted to be the woman he found relief and pleasure with.

  My hips arched forward as I brushed my fingers through the wet folds of my skin and groaned. Chill bumps broke out on my skin, leaving me panting before I got too far. It’d been too long. Jace and I hadn't had time to fuck the week before after the opening celebration for Down Low, though I needed to something terrible.

  "Why do I believe that?" He pressed into me a little and smiled. "Spread your legs wider, Riley. Open up like a good girl for me."

  I groaned and spread my thighs farther as I slid my hands over his thick shoulders and pressed up to take more of him.

  The pleasure that spread across his face as he laid down and pressed me firmly to the mattress was bliss, beautiful.

  "So tight, baby. So deliciously tight and wet." He licked the side of my throat and rocked his hips, forcing me to take more and more of him. The pressure was overwhelming, and left me breathless.

/>   I cried out as I sunk two fingers into myself and arched my back to get the best position for working my body over the edge as fast as I could. The idea of taking him deep inside was unbelievably appetizing, almost like a fetish. I enjoyed bigger men, but had never in my life seen anything like what Ethan was sporting. Monster was an understatement.

  I worked harder and faster, slipping in another finger and giving myself over to the depravity of a hard fuck in my head as I pressed more aggression than I normally would have into my movement. I buckled in the bed as bright lights exploded at the edge of my vision. I rolled onto my side and continued to massage my soft skin as the high rolled into a warmth I yearned for.

  Panting softly in the dark, I couldn't help but wonder if he went to bed the night before and did the same. After our conversation and him getting upset, I couldn't fathom a different ending for him.

  ***

  After taking a quick shower, I put on a pair of white shorts and a blue tank top set, strapped sandals on my feet and walked down to the kitchen to find Frank and Deza talking to a guy I hadn't met yet. He had a scraggly beard, but brilliant blue eyes.

  "Riley. Did you sleep well?" Deza got up and walked to the coffee pot.

  "I didn't, actually. Not sure what's up with me." I smiled at the new guy and Frank. "Morning."

  "Morning, youngin'." Frank pointed to the guy. "This is Paul. He's going to be our head videographer. He's a shy guy, but I'm sure you'll pull him from his shell."

  The guy laughed and extended his hand toward me. "Nice to meet you, and please leave me in my shell. It's warm and cozy and safe."

  I smiled and shook his hand. "You got another one of those shells? I think I need one too."

  Deza offered me a cup of coffee. "Here you go. No shells for anyone. We're all going to gel and have a great time becoming a family."

  "Hopefully better than the one I already have. If not, we're in trouble." I took the coffee and sat down beside Frank. "Where is Ethan?"

  "He's a late sleeper." Frank nursed his coffee and stared at something absently across the kitchen. "He didn't get back to the house until early this morning either. I swear I'm going to have to put a curfew on him like we did when he was a teenager."

  Deza snorted. "Good luck on that shit. He's more rebellious now than he was then."

  "That can't be possible." Paul moved into the kitchen and pressed his hands to the other side of the counter from where we sat. "He's grown up some, right? At least since the last time I saw him."

  "Not at bit." Deza laughed and took the seat on my right. "I wouldn't either if I were him. It's a hard life he lives. At least some of us get a break between filming one movie and the next. The poor kid is always Ethan Lewis no matter where he goes."

  "And that's a bad thing?" Frank gave us a funny look. "You should have seen the woman he brought home with him last night. Playboy would pay her large sums of money to keep her clothes on and just smile for the camera. He's a lucky man, but he lets it go to his head."

  The woman he brought home?

  Sickness swirled in the pit of my stomach until it birthed anger and rejection. The logical side of my mind pushed the horrible thoughts away, but my emotions clung to all of it until I had a hard time finding enough air to breathe. He'd offered himself to me the night before and when I didn't jump into his bed, he ran out and got another woman? A woman that could have any host of diseases that he'd warned me of?

  What a bastard. What a horrible, piece of shit bastard.

  "So are you excited, Riley? First day of working on scenes for the new movie." Frank rubbed the top of my back and gave me a warm smile.

  "What? Yeah. Oh yeah. I'm really excited." I took a sip of my coffee and slipped into character. I was a young woman who was ready to live out her dreams. I had a loving fiancé at home that called three times a day and was quick to remind me of all the naughty things he planned to do to me the minute I got back home from my trip. I could be her throughout the day until I crashed that night, hating myself for denying Ethan. I hated myself for hating myself.

  I growled softly and got up.

  "You okay?" Deza reached out and gripped my wrist.

  "Yeah, just trying to think through why my mother isn't answering my calls. I haven't heard from her in a few days, which is nothing new." I shrugged. "I just wish I knew that she was okay."

  "You need us to send someone to look for her? We have a good handful of people on the payroll back in Los Angeles." Frank's offer was kind, and a little humorous.

  "You sound like you run the mafia." I changed my voice to sound like a mafia boss from Boston. "Yeah, uh, wez got people everywherez. Just name your price, pretty girl, and itz yours."

  They all laughed, forcing a smile from me too.

  "You're right where you should be. Obviously." Paul walked toward the hallway. "Which room is the golden boy staying in? I think I should give him a proper wake up call."

  "Last door on the left," Frank called out. "Give him hell, please. It would make my day for sure."

  "Behave." Deza popped Frank in the chest and turned to me. "Let's get over to the conference room down the beach. We'll be working there mostly today and then tomorrow we’ll get on set. It's supposed to storm this afternoon, so we're holding off on setting up the props for the beach scenes."

  "Sounds good." I took a few quick sips of my coffee and dumped the rest. I had to tuck away the fact that Ethan had taken a woman to his bed. I could analyze it later, but knew without a doubt that I would come to the sound conclusion that it was none of my business. He was a single guy with needs, and I wasn't his girl.

  I was his co-star and nothing more. Me being the object of his affections was the same pipe dream that every girl with a pulse in America shared.

  He was everything to everyone, and I was just me.

  Somehow that didn't feel like nearly enough.

  Chapter 15

  Ethan

  I ran my hand up the smooth skin of Vanessa’s back and watched the sunrise, hating myself for trying again. The pretty thing lying beside me was dead to the world, and I was still without a proper release. She'd worked me with her hands several times, but it wasn't anything I couldn't have done myself.

  How badly I wanted her to be Riley, to have the opportunity to take my time and open her up properly. Something told me that I would be much more patient with my beautiful co-star than I had been with the woman beside me. I'd finally given up at three that morning and rolled over, leaving her to cry beside me. I hated myself for it, but I couldn't seem to muster a nice thing to say.

  "You awake?" she whispered and turned to face me. Her large breasts pressed against my chest as she curled up to the front of me. "You still mad at me?"

  "I wasn't mad in the first place. Disappointed, yeah, but it's a normal occurrence in my life." I shrugged and brushed her dark hair from her shoulder.

  Deza was right. I enjoyed white women with pale skin, but something had me going for the polar opposite the night before. I think I'd been scared to mistake her for Riley in any way, shape or form with my eyes wide open. Closing them and letting her become my latest obsession was fine, but pretending to have something I wanted only to fool myself was stupid. Childish.

  "Let’s try again. You still have a little while, right?" She ran her fingers down the side of my face and pulled me in for a kiss.

  I wasn't in the mood to ever try again, but obviously my cock had a mind of its own. I ran my palm down her side, over the thick swell of her hip and gripped her ass, pulling her closer.

  "Why do you think this morning will be any different than last night?" I nipped at her mouth as aggression pumped through me.

  "I don't know. I want to make love to you. You're my fantasy." She pushed at my chest and crawled on top of me as I moved to my back and lifted one of my hands, sliding it under my head as I watched her.

  She was beyond beautiful, and yet not my type in the slightest.

  "I'm everyone’s fantasy. That doesn't m
ean too much to me, you know?" I palmed her large tit and squeezed softly before tugging gently on her nipple. "Why don't you just suck me off? You know I'm not fitting inside of you."

  "Maybe if you ate me out first. Then I would be ready." She pressed her hands into my chest and rolled her hips. The sweetness of having my cock coated in her wetness was a lie of things to come.

  "Not happening, pretty girl." I gripped her hips and pulled her off of me. "Find me later tonight. I need some sleep before we start filming. The door is over there."

  I turned on my side and pulled my pillow over my head as she bitched for the next five minutes about what a horrible guy I was. She was the one who'd approached me at the bar the night before, offered me a night I wouldn't forget and now she was pissed that her words rang true. I wouldn't forget that nothing happened out of the ordinary. The night sucked much like they all had.

  I was done trying for a while unless there was a secondary purpose in it. Making Deza mad? That would be worth taking another useless woman to my bed. Pissing Frank off? Absolutely worth it. Making Riley jealous?

  My stomach contracted as I groaned. I wanted to see her jealous and angry over me more than I wanted to find the right girl to take to my bed. I had so much to offer, but without the drive to offer it, I was nothing more than an asshole.

  "Real men eat pussy." She pulled the pillow off my head and clocked me with it.

  I laughed and rolled over the other way, pressing my face to the cool sheets below. I had a million comebacks about real women taking a dick properly, but I let them hide behind my closed lips. There was no need to degrade her any more than I already had by denying her another opportunity to come at my expense.

  I rarely went down on a woman, simply because it felt almost too intimate. As odd as it sounded in my own head, I was saving something so intense for the right woman, and then I was going to give all I had.