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Los Angeles (International Guy Book 12)

Page 9

by Audrey Carlan


  “Honey, I can do anything for you.”

  “Prove it, Peaches. Prove it now.”

  8

  PARKER

  My dick is painfully hard and weeping at the tip when I kick off my boxer briefs before wrapping my hand around the base to stave off the need to rush through what I have planned.

  Pressing up into a sitting position with my back against the headboard, I widen my knees and let them drop to the sides as my cock stands at attention.

  Taking my phone in my other hand, I rest my forearm against one of my knees and point the screen down, then press “Record.”

  I close my eyes and wrap my left hand around my length, imagining it’s Skyler’s small warm hand. Pleasure ripples up from my groin to my abdomen, making me clench those muscles as I work my hand up slowly, swirling my thumb at the tip to spread the wetness there and bring it back down again. I gasp at the need curling inside me and thrust my hips as I work my length up and down to a beautiful rhythm.

  More precum drips from the slit as I imagine Skyler working my cock, her tongue circling around the tip. She’d sop that mess up with her mouth and moan while tasting me. My girl loves to suck my cock. Loves the control it gives her over me.

  I bite back a groan and move my hand faster, until I can feel nothing but nirvana, every inch of my cock buzzing and tingling, ready to blow.

  “Fuck yeah,” I whisper under my breath, watching my hand move up and down, keeping my other as steady as possible so that she’ll get the perfect fucking view. I want her to watch what she does to me, how thoughts of her mouth on my cock, her hand on me, her heat wrapped around me set me off.

  Only her.

  I’ve never been so taken with a woman in all my life. Never been able to just imagine the same woman every time I jack off, but she does it for me.

  Every. Fucking. Time.

  I grit my teeth as I run my hand down to my balls, then cup and squeeze them until the need to come is moments away. I wrap my fingers once again around the base and grip hard, harder than I normally would; it’s as if I’m physically pulling my seed out of my cock for her benefit.

  Stars light behind my eyes, and my abdominals tighten and flex with each thrust and grip until there’s nothing but bliss. The need roars through my body, balls lifting high, dick straining as jet after jet of my release pumps out of the tip, coating my hand and belly in a messy display of my desire.

  Puffs of air burst out of my lungs with every aftershock until there’s nothing left to give. I’ve given it all up . . . for her.

  I hit the button on my phone to stop the recording. Put the phone down and grab for the tissues by the bed to clean myself up. Once I’m done, I hit the head, wash my hands, and go back to my bed naked.

  I pull up the messages section of my phone and find our text string at the top, then attach the video I just took and click “Send.”

  Once I see that the entire thing has gone, I call her back.

  “Honey . . . ,” she sighs, her voice sounding needy and sexy as hell.

  “You’ve done what I asked. Played with your pretty titties until now.”

  “Bay . . . bee, they’re on fire. I need . . .”

  “I know what you need, Sky. I’ll always know when and how to give you pleasure.”

  She moans, and I know she’s being naughty, touching her slit before being told.

  “Are you touching yourself?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Does my voice turn you on?”

  “So much . . . ,” she gasps.

  “Put your phone on speaker, then go to the messages on your phone. Click on the video I just sent but leave the phone on speaker. I want to hear you.”

  “Uh, okay.” She sounds breathless as I listen to her moving the phone. I know the second the video starts because she sucks in a sharp breath.

  “You see my cock, baby.” I lower my voice to the sexy, deep timbre that gets her going.

  “Oh yeah . . .”

  “Watch me pleasure myself for you. While you’re watching I want one of your hands playing with the sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted.” I bite down on my lip, thinking about being between her thighs right now, her scent in my nostrils, her taste on my tongue. I have to fight back the urge to grind my teeth at the carnal images flooding my mind.

  “God, Parker . . . ,” she moans, her breath so loud I can hear it coming in labored gusts through the speaker.

  “See my hand all over my dick and balls . . .” I taunt her with my voice as much as the image on the video.

  “I-I want it.” She stutters in her desire.

  “I know you do . . . Shove your fingers deep inside like I would. Right now, fuck yourself with two fingers, baby.”

  She cries out, and my dick perks back up to attention. Jesus, the bastard is hard up for her. Literally.

  “It’s so good. Watching your beautiful hand stroke your length. Oh God . . . ,” she whimpers.

  “Now bring those fingers out of your pussy, baby, and press them to your clit. I want you to spin them around and around while I jack off to you in the video.” Though technically, I could take my dick in hand again just from hearing her get off on my gift.

  “Parker, baby, I . . .” Her voice is strangled, lost to the sensations overcoming her.

  “Mmm, you gonna come, Peaches?”

  “Yeah . . . ,” she whispers.

  “Go ahead and come. Let me hear it.”

  A tortured groan and whimper tease through the line, and I can’t help but wrap my hand back around my cock, giving it a few tugs while she comes.

  “Don’t stop, Peaches.”

  “Wha-what? But I . . .” Her voice is strained, so I know she’s still got her fingers on her clit.

  “Another. Have I come in the video?”

  “N-no, but I . . .” She loses her ability to speak clearly.

  “Keep watching. See what you do to me? How hot and hard you make me? Put three fingers inside your cunt.”

  “Honey . . . ,” she gasps.

  “Do it,” I growl, and know the second she does because the tortured moan coming from my girl is so long and deep.

  “Are you pretending it’s my cock or my fingers?” Either makes me hard as stone in my palm.

  “Your fingers. Your cock is way too big to pretend.”

  I grin. “Good. Now watch me stroke my length, how hard I thrust into my tight grip. Mimic my thrusts.” I follow my own instructions, fucking my hand for the second time tonight.

  “Now use your thumb on your clit the same way I would.”

  “Oh my God, Parker!” she calls out in ecstasy.

  “Fuck yourself harder. I want to hear how juicy you are watching me fuck my hand. I’m so hot for you, Sky, I’m jacking off again. Right now.” I groan. “Am I moving faster in the video? Tell me what you see, baby.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I think, oh, I want to put my mouth on you, swallow you down and suck it so hard. I’d suck you so good, honey,” she promises.

  “Jesus!” I growl into the phone, my mind spinning with visions of her doing that very thing.

  I listen closely to her ragged breaths, knowing exactly when to push her further with more instruction.

  “Hook those fingers high, baby. Take hold of your pussy the same way I would, and fucking come when I do.” I close my eyes and listen to her moans and cries.

  “Oh God, you’re coming on the video. It’s so sexy, I’m going to . . . ahhhh . . .” She whimpers and moans. The sound is so high pitched it’s as though she’s being fucked into next week.

  “Jesus, fuck me!” I groan as my dick goes off for the second time tonight, covering my hand in my own release.

  For at least two to three minutes we both lie there just listening to one another breathe.

  “Peaches?” I call out.

  “Mmm.”

  “You good, baby?”

  “Mmm,” she sighs. “So good. I love you,” she whispers, and her voice seems to be fading away.

  �
��Sleep good, Sky.”

  “Mm-hmm. Dream of me,” she mumbles sleepily, and I smile.

  “Always, baby. Good night.”

  I can hear her soft puffs of air signaling that my girl is knocked out. She’s fallen asleep while listening to my voice, probably with the phone right next to her head.

  I leave my phone on and put the volume way up so I can hear her breathing and sleepy little sighs as I clean myself up. Once done, I get back in bed, flick off the table lamp, and turn on my side with the extra pillow in my arms held tight to my chest as if it’s my girl instead. I set the phone on the bed right next to my head.

  “I love you, Skyler. I love you so much.”

  She hums and mumbles, “Love you, Park.”

  I grin, close my eyes, and fall asleep to the sound of my woman breathing, the same way I do every night back home.

  It’s the best night’s sleep I’ve gotten all week.

  “All right, ladies and gents, stand on your marks. We’re going to run through this group first, then the second round. Tomorrow is showtime, and we do not want any of you to look unprepared,” Louise calls out in a stern tone that demands attention. Royce and I sit to the right of the stage in the voting booth on the guys’ half.

  “Okay, action.”

  The male host lifts the mic to his lips as one of the cameras zooms in on him. “Today is the day you’ve all been waiting for. The next generation of love connections making television history on . . . Mix and Match!” His voice rises on the name of the show as he nods and smiles wide into the camera. He looks out to a pretend audience; his hair is perfectly coiffed, his trendy designer suit fitting his frame like a glove.

  “Thank you to our live audience for being here, and all of you at home. I’m Rod Gentry, your host, and this is Mix and Match! Let’s meet our first three male contestants. First up, Lamar Williams . . .” Rod’s voice rises and dips excitedly.

  Lamar approaches the stage just as we taught him. He stops in front of his chair, looks at the camera, and offers a sexy smirk and a chin lift before sitting down. Thankfully he sits with one leg on the rung and the other on the floor. He’s wearing shorts and a polo, but on the day of the show he will be dressed to the nines. The outfit Royce and I chose with the show’s stylist should make him look his best.

  “Welcome, Lamar!” Rod waits an appropriate amount of time as the stagehand plays the sound of an audience clapping in the background. It fades away, and Rod addresses the camera again. “Next up, Joshua Tipton.”

  Josh enters the stage, his blond hair swept back, his blue eyes dazzled with excitement. He struts over to his chair, lifts a hand, and offers a jaunty wave before easing down and putting his ankle up to his opposite knee like we practiced. He rests his hands on the crossed leg at the knee and ankle in a casual yet still attractive pose.

  “Thanks for coming, Joshua,” Rod announces. “And last but definitely not least, we’ve got Jimmy Handle.”

  Jimmy Handle? What the hell was the kid thinking? He went from Jimmy Jones, sounding like a sausage or a pizza place, to a name that makes people think of grabbing their dicks?

  I shake my head and sigh.

  Royce grunts under his breath and covers his mouth while he laughs silently. Fucker. He knows I’m going to have to have yet another uncomfortable conversation with the guy.

  Jimmy walks across stage, his ever-present folk-inspired hat on, ginger beard trimmed to perfection. He smiles so wide when he sits down he looks like a loon. Switch out his rounded fedora, place a dunce cap on his head, and you’ve got a life-size garden gnome. I roll my eyes and press my finger and thumb to my temples to work out the tension.

  “Shee-it, brother looks like a creepy leprechaun in his plaid shirt, hat, and crazy-as-hell smile. He needs to tone that back.”

  “Yeah, I’ll talk to him. When I’m telling him about his name . . . again.”

  Royce grins and dips his head.

  “Next up is a beautiful lady some of you may recognize from her screen time and Broadway appearances, Ms. Tara Darling!” Rod watches Tara strut out of a special side of the stage blocked off so the guys can’t see her. She’s working the camera, swaying her hips from side to side. Rod licks his lips as if he’s interested in far more than just her attendance on the show. His eyes are glued to her body and travel up and down her form so fast I swear he has X-ray vision and can see through her clothes or is trying damn hard to.

  Tara stands in front of the camera that focuses in on her. She winks saucily and smiles before spinning around, her golden locks flying behind her as she goes to her chair.

  “Men, if you’d seen this girl, you’d be beyond excited to meet her.” Rod rubs at his bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes on Tara a moment too long.

  The guys make different gestures to this, like clapping their hands and fist-bumping, and Lamar does the super over-the-top kissing of two fingers and directing them out toward the audience as if he’s LL Cool J himself. Hell, he probably doesn’t even know who that is.

  The show does a great job of keeping the male and female contestants out of sight from one another, except for the questions. For now, we’re practicing with questions the writers put together, but when the show goes live tomorrow, we’re allowing the two females we’ve chosen to decide what to ask their potential suitors. The showrunner and producer will have viewed the questions to make sure they’re not inappropriate, eliminating stuff like “Have you ever had anal sex?” or “What type of veggie would you compare the size of your dick to?”

  You know. The obvious no-no’s.

  “Thank you so much for having me here, Rod.” Tara pours on the charm.

  “Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” Rod says instantly; then his eyes widen as though he just realized what he revealed. He plays it off. “I mean, the pleasure is all of ours, right, gentlemen?”

  This time I chuckle under my breath.

  “Speaking of gentlemen, we have two very special guest judges. One you may recognize since his face has been plastered all over the media lately.” I narrow my gaze at the comment but force a fake smile to keep with the plan. “We’ve got Royce Sterling and Parker Ellis from International Guy Inc. They have been instructing our male and female contestants on how to best be ready and open for love. How are you doing, guys?”

  Royce leans forward and smiles. “Just fine. Ready to hear how our boys do tonight.”

  I smile at Tara and then glance across all of the eager men waiting to be asked their questions. “Looking forward to seeing who Tara chooses. All I have to say to you men is, one of you is going to be very lucky indeed.”

  The men clap, hoot, and holler jovially, adding to the fun of the practice round.

  “Well, all right, I’d say it’s time to get right to business.” Rod instructs the candidates on how the show will work, making comments to the pretend audience, which will be a full house tomorrow.

  “All right, Tara, why don’t you ask a lucky gentleman a question so we can get this party started?”

  She smiles into the camera and lifts a blue card. “Contestant number one, what do you think makes a woman beautiful to you?”

  Lamar rubs at his chin as if he’s thinking about it. “Well, sweetheart, she’d have to be confident and sassy. Nuthin’ prettier than that.”

  Tara giggles. “Contestant number two, same question.”

  “Well, Tara, I can already tell by your voice that you’re beautiful. So, for me, her voice being sultry like yours goes a long way,” Joshua says.

  “Okay . . .” She smiles and looks down at her card. “Contestant number three, if I choose you, what would be a perfect date?”

  Jimmy sits up taller in his chair. “For you, Tara, I’d take you to a music festival. Bring along my banjo, a blanket, some great food I’d make myself, and we could sit under the stars, watching the people, hearing great music, where I’d then break out my own little ditties for you.”

  Tara makes a face of surprise. “Wow, that sounds like a blast
.”

  “Pick me, darlin’, and I’ll make it your reality.”

  The questions continue for another half hour, the director stopping and starting them again, giving feedback on things she likes and dislikes.

  The first group finishes, and the men are ushered off to a separate section of the stage to keep Tara hidden. The second group goes through the process next. There are even fewer problems with this group. They seem to fit right into the program and have taken our feedback to heart and put it into action. Louise is thrilled and decides that they’ll be first up, with Tara in the second group.

  Once the rehearsal is finished, Tara hustles over to where Royce and I are sitting at the edge of the stage, coffee in our hands.

  “Hey, um, guys, I just wanted to get your thoughts, see if there were any pointers you had for me. I’m pretty nervous about tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be. You did well out there,” I offer.

  Her corresponding smile is wide and enthusiastic. “Thank you.”

  “Have you given any thought to who you’re going to pick for your date?” Royce asks.

  She shrugs. “Based on their answers, I’m leaning toward Jimmy,” she says, surprising me.

  I glance at Royce and see that he’s surprised too, especially since we know what he looks like. Now I really need to make sure he’s on his A game tomorrow.

  “He seems really funny and nice. He’ll be so focused on making me happy, I might actually have a fun date. Lamar and Josh seem a little too full of themselves. And besides”—her eyes lift to mine—“it’s not like you’re on the stage, Parker. If that were the case, those other guys would have to watch out, because I’d be gunning straight for you.”

  A niggle of trepidation pricks at the back of my neck and runs down my spine. “Uh, Tara, that’s really sweet of you to say. Though you know I’m completely off the market.”

  She moves a couple of steps closer and puts her hand on my knee.

  Royce lets out a breath. “Aw damn.” He looks the other way, trying to give me a little privacy but still be there in support.

  “We could, you know, have fun together and maybe, um, not tell anyone.” She whispers low, but I can tell Royce heard because he grunts loudly.

 

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