Sex Sessions: Uncut (Camera Tales #1)

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Sex Sessions: Uncut (Camera Tales #1) Page 7

by Charisse Spiers


  "Which part?"

  "About reconsidering acting?"

  Her forehead crinkles. "Yeah, but what does that have to do with this situation?"

  "Those guys I was with at the club were there for a business meeting with me. They were there to discuss a project. One was a producer, the other a director. He noticed me taking an interest in you and is very likely to act on it. Sometimes acting is more about chemistry than anything else. The right or wrong two actors can make a huge difference on screen, so he's probably going to come talk to you. If you really want this to go somewhere, then you'll have to keep an open mind...like wide open. Until then, we can't go any further. That is beyond my control, for reasons you'll soon figure out."

  "Um, okay, but I'm still con-"

  I stop her by kissing her, trying to end this conversation before I throw everything out the window and decide that I don't give a shit about that fucking meeting or this project and just do what I want. She moans into my mouth, and it's now that I realize I need to go home. The longer I'm here the more I want her in ways I don't understand.

  I break the kiss and stand from the bed. She looks at me in a way that I know she's disappointed. "I need to go, beautiful. I have things I need to get done tomorrow. Get some sleep. Maybe I'll see you again soon."

  I lean over and briefly kiss her lips, before walking toward the door. "How will I see you?"

  I grab the doorknob but don't look back. "When you know everything, if you decide you still want to go forward, you'll know where to find me. Goodnight, Kambry."

  I walk out the door and shut it behind me, then grab my briefs on the way out the front door, calling a cab on the way downstairs. It doesn't take me long to get to the curb before I pull up my email on my phone as I stand and wait. I probably should wait till at least morning to do this, but what the hell.

  To: [email protected]

  Cc/Bcc:

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Reality project (title currently unknown) update

  Michael,

  I have some information on the project that we discussed earlier. I'll do it if we can work out the terms of the contract. There are certain things I will require, just as I am sure you will. Get with me on time and place. I'll be there.

  Regards,

  Saxton

  I press send and slide my phone in my pocket. The cab comes into view and pulls up curbside. I get in and shut the door, rattling off my address as I do. My thoughts immediately return to that fucking pool and how good her tight, wet pussy felt. It was too good. I shouldn't have kissed her. I would have been better off dousing myself with gasoline and lighting myself on fire. Now, I feel like someone I've never met gave me a line of free cocaine. Instead of asking questions I sniffed, and now I'm fucking hooked, already looking for my next fix.

  That could be a problem for me.

  She could always say no.

  Girls like her don't say yes to porn offers.

  I have to make her say yes...

  My phone vibrates once, signaling an email. I shift my position and remove it from my pocket. I unlock the blank screen and open my email to a reply from Michael; an odd time to reply, but who am I to judge when sending at this time?

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subject: RE: Reality project (title currently unknown) update

  Saxton,

  To clarify, the project has been named Sex Sessions: Uncut. Meet me tomorrow at noon. That deli about a block from the studio is fine. Shit, I'm drawing a blank on the name, but it's late. You'll know which one; same as last time. I'll buy you lunch, but bring all your cards to lay out. They are ready to move on this project, hoping it will give us an edge. If you don't take it they are pushing to move forward with open casting auditions. We need to do this. You need to do this. This could be a good change for you.

  See you tomorrow,

  Michael

  I let my head fall back against the seat, trying to drown out all the visuals of the last several hours. It's easier said than done. All I seem to be able to think about is my finger, as in singular, pressed inside of her pussy, squeezing me tightly as it became wet from her arousal. I never think about sex. Not anymore. Feeling her, though, may very well change that. I'm not sure if I should be relieved or fucking terrified. I guess I'm about to find out...

  The glass door comes into view and I pull it open. It's pretty busy for a Sunday. I bypass the line waiting to order and find Michael sitting over in a corner at a high-top table, sipping on a glass of water with a leather book in front of him.

  I make my way over and take a seat across from him. He looks up at me as I take my seat. "Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice. I appreciate it."

  "Not a problem. I understand the need to think things over. What do you have for me?"

  "Well, I was originally planning to take a break for a little while. I just wanted to go for a bit with no projects. Maybe I'm fucking crazy, but I'm just burnt out with the same old shit, same type of girls, and same ending. There are only so many ways - no matter how kinky or raunchy you get - to fuck, eat pussy, etc. You get the point. The only reason I met with the two of you last night was because you’re a friend. You helped me out when I was going through a shitty time, so for that I’ll always kind of owe you."

  "And now?"

  "I'll agree to do this...if you can get Kambry as the co-star."

  "I kind of thought we already established that. Is there something I'm missing?"

  He opens the book, revealing a pad of lined yellow paper. He removes the metal pen from the holder in the center and uncaps it, revealing the narrow, metal point; an expensive pen. I cross my arms and lean forward on my forearms. "You did, but I am confirming your prediction. I want her, and only her. If you can get her to do it I'll sign the contracts no questions asked, with the exception of two stipulations."

  "What's that?"

  He readies his pen, pressing the point just above the paper, preparing to take notes.

  "I did a little investigating of my own last night, to see if this was worth my time. I spent a little one-on-one time with Kambry. It may be a little harder getting her than you think."

  "Why do you say that? Money talks."

  "She's a fucking virgin, Michael."

  His eyes widen slightly, before a gleam appears. I interrupt his thought.

  "Before you get settled with those dollar signs in your eyes, hear me out."

  "I'm listening."

  "Against my better judgment, I'll do it. This goes against everything that normally turns me on. I'll fucking take her virginity for you on camera, but there will be requirements. To make this easy they are as follows: lights out, one camera angle in the room toward the bed, from a distance, and no close-ups. We've all been there. We've experienced that in privacy. We know what it entails. It's not erotic in the least. A person is awkward, some girls in pain even with a guy of normal size, and learning how to go about it with each other. I don't give a fuck what you film before or after, but during that one sacred moment she will have some damn respect. Viewers can go to Hell if they have something to say about it. Furthermore, on the size note, you've seen my cock. I don't really know how that's going to work, but I'll try it."

  “Women are miraculous creatures, Saxton. Those areas are capable of transformation, like during childbirth. They were created to adjust in size when they’re supposed to. Everything doesn’t have to be a physics problem. Sometimes things just work.” He starts writing; taking notes. "Per your request, I don't see why that's not doable, but I'll still have to run it by the others. That was one, but you said two. What's the other?"

  "You match her salary with mine."

  He drops his pen and looks up at me. "Are you fucking serious?"

  "I never joke about work."

  "You're an established and seasoned actor. You have a name established with buyers. Has she ever even a
uditioned for a role, at all? You expect me to authorize that kind of budget disbursement to an amateur? I don't know if I can do that. Do you know how many girls are lined up to do that for less? We want you for this role, because we think you're right for the part, but you're asking things outside of your jurisdiction. What does it matter to you what your costar makes?"

  I think back to her mostly empty room, to the girl that evidently wants to spread her wings and try to fly from the nest. She's young and has her entire life ahead of her. She should be in college or something, not working in a nightclub to scrape by. There is no guarantee she will do this, but like he said money talks, and maybe if she can make enough to give her a really thick cushion she will figure out what she wants, finish this project, and go after it.

  He's not going to make this decision today. It's a process. I tell him what I want and he counters or approves it. That's the way this works. I've worked with him before. I stand from my seat, preparing to leave. "Because I believe she deserves it, and you and I both know I don't normally vouch for people. I've fucked my ass off to get where I am. I help no one. If you want me to do this film, that's what will get my signature on a contract. I don't make requests often. That’s the only reason you met with me. In the end you do what’s best for you just like I do, because you have a family. I'm burnt out, Michael. Girls just don’t turn me on like they used to. She does. She turns me on…with no magic pill. I need something different or nothing at all. Take it or leave it. I have done enough films I can take a break if I choose. I'm sure there is a long line of eligible males waiting for me to decline or fuck up if this is undoable, but knowing you I'm sure it is. You're good at your job. You know how to reach me when you decide. Enjoy the rest of your weekend."

  I walk away, trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do with myself now. A certain blonde sounds enticing, but I will not go there again. Now that I know where she lives and works, it's going to be hard to stay away, because just the peek I got into that girl has me wanting more. It's time to see if he can come through. For now...I wait.

  It's been a full week since I've seen or heard from Saxton. I thought he would come to work or something by now. I won't lie and say that I haven't thought about him, because I have, more times than I truly want to admit aloud. I'm trying not to be that girl; the one that hooks up with a guy one time and then gets attached, thinking it's going to turn into more than it is. I won't. I was about to let him take my virginity, but it was going to be nothing more. I need to remind myself of that.

  Work has been busy. Drake kept his promise and moved me to the VIP section to properly train with Amanda as her replacement when she leaves soon...when she can't hide her super mysterious pregnancy any longer, but I don't really think it's all that mysterious at all. People talk. Rumors fly. Usually, there is always some truth behind most rumors. Just saying.

  I kind of miss it downstairs, but the money is better up here. Tips alone for one night is sometimes more than what I made down there in an entire weekend. The environment is a little different than the carefree young adults partying without a care in the world, but supposedly certain nights it takes off up here, depending on who is in house.

  I walk up to the bar and set my tray down, ready to give my order to Zack, one of the full-time bartenders up here. I met him when Drake put Liam back downstairs, my shift immediately following the night I met Saxton. I'm not disappointed. He doesn't amuse me as much after the night in the locker room last weekend. He's cute enough and all, but I don't really think our personalities would click.

  Amanda sets down her tray next to mine. We're working different sections tonight to give me more time alone to get comfortable without her looking over my shoulder. "Hey, Kambry."

  I look at her. "Yeah?"

  "Drake wants you in the conference room. He said someone is waiting for you."

  I immediately start to get nervous. No one ever gets called to the conference room. It's merely there for important people that don't want their business out in the open or to counsel employees that are about to get fired. The last people rumored to have gone in there were Amanda herself and that Justin Talbert guy that is supposedly a regular, and that was not long after I started...

  I swallow. "Do you know what for? Who's in there?"

  She zones out slightly, a smirk spreading across her face. "He didn't say. I'll cover your tables. Run along now. You don't want to keep whoever it is waiting." She winks; being a bitch I'm sure. I've found since coming up here that sometimes she is cool to be around and sometimes you just want to stab her in the eye with the heel of a stiletto. Girls like her are hard to be friends with. It's like she has a split personality.

  "Okay. Thanks, Amanda. I'll be back."

  "Mmmm Hmmm. Sure thing, doll. Whatever you say."

  I grab my tray and walk around the bar to store it underneath the bar top, before heading in the direction of the narrow stairway that leads to the third floor, consisting of Drake's office, the club owner's office, whom I've never met, and the conference room.

  As I come to the bottom of the stairway I place my hand on the wall railing that leads to the top, placing my foot on the first step as I look up, trying to remember if I've done anything wrong or questionable. It's almost closing time and that's what makes me nervous. Of course they are going to wait till closing if you're going to get fired so you don't cause a scene. Drake didn't seem pissed off about anything. Shit, what if a customer complained? I knew I should have stayed downstairs. I can't afford to lose this job.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath, preparing to ascend the staircase. I might as well get this over with. One by one I climb, trying to calm myself down. Why am I freaking out over this? What if it's nothing? I'm being a paranoid little girl.

  Find your woman balls, Kambry.

  When I reach the top of the stairs Drake steps out of his office, meeting me at the top. "Kambry."

  "Drake. You wanted to see me? Is everything okay?"

  "Do you remember that client you served last week? The three guys on your first night?"

  Saxton...

  My nervousness turns into excitement. Is he here? Why would he come up here? I glance down at myself, wondering if I look okay. Crap. I guess I look decent. I've dressed up more all week than I usually do in hopes I may see him again. The short, red dress compliments my platinum blonde hair. The killer black shoes make me the perfect height. I've even learned a lot about the art of makeup application from Meredith. Smoky eyes are my best look, complimenting my blue eyes.

  "Yes," I answer, my voice hitching in the middle of the word. Dammit. "Why?"

  "Well, he called earlier, asking if he could meet with you before closing. He said it was important, paid to occupy the conference room, and I agreed. Are you okay with it?"

  "Sure." He raises a brow. I answered too quickly and with too much excitement in my voice. Reset. Let me try that again, making my voice seem more bored. "I mean, I guess. They seemed nice enough and they did pay, you say. I guess it would be bad business otherwise."

  He places his hand at the small of my back and leads me to the end of the hall. "I'll be in my office going over some applications. I'm not leaving you up here alone. If you need anything at all come get me. Do you understand?"

  "Okay, Drake. Thanks..." I pause. "For everything."

  "Don't sweat it. You've earned what you have. Keep working hard and I'll probably be looking for your replacement at some point. This is no place for you permanently. Just give me enough time to enjoy not having to for a while."

  I stop just before we reach the door and look at him. "That's the nicest thing someone has said to me in a really long time."

  His brows bunch. "That you're a hard worker? I hardly think that's a compliment worth recognizing."

  "You'd be surprised," I say and continue walking until the distance runs out. I place my hand on the doorknob, pausing for a moment before I twist it and open the door. I can already hear Drake's footsteps distancin
g.

  Upon opening the door, all of my excitement and nervousness halts as he stands from the chair and walks around the table to meet me at the door. He holds out his hand for me to shake. My shoulders fall, slightly disappointed. "Kambry, I appreciate you agreeing to meet with me under no prior notice. I hope all is well since my last appearance."

  I shake his hand to be polite. "It is...um..."

  "Michael. Michael Prescott."

  "Sorry, I just meet so many people here. Sometimes I'm bad with names." I release his hand. "How are you?"

  "I'm good. Just here to take care of some late night business."

  I look around the room, confused. "You wanted to see me?"

  "I did, Kambry." The way he says my name so professional makes my nose crinkle. I hate the way it sounds, almost as if he's being sarcastic even though I know he's not. He turns and walks back to his seat on the other side of the table, before sitting in the leather, executive style chair and laying his forearms over a folder lying on the tabletop. He's dressed in a suit with no jacket. He looks like he needs a drink. "Come, have a seat. We may be here a while."

  I walk toward the end of the table and sit as instructed, the corner separating us. "Isn't it kind of late to be working?"

  He gives me a half smile at best. "The film industry never sleeps. Work never ceases. There’s always people to please and budgets to manage, countless and never-ending screenplays to read, and jobs to be distributed." He winks. "But it's a job I love, which brings me here."

  That conversation with Saxton last week suddenly slaps me across the face. He saw me take interest in you and he may very well act on it. Most of the time acting is about chemistry between actors...

 

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