First Priority

by Este Holland

  His head popped up, and he stared at me. “I-I’d like to think so. I guess we haven’t really talked about that.”

  I kissed his faint treasure trail, then ran my tongue from the tip of his cock to his balls, making his head fall again.

  “We will,” I promised. “For now…”

  I pushed a second finger inside, and he tensed. I massaged his tight channel and sucked the head of his cock a few times until he relaxed.

  I let him go, and said, “Ready?”

  “Yes. Hurry.”

  He pulled his legs up behind the knees, and I slid between his thighs. I kissed him quick and notched the head of my cock against his wet hole and pushed. I made it past the first barrier with no trouble.

  Adam moaned, and said, “So…good.”

  I pulled out and thrust in a few times, testing what he liked. “Fuck, so tight. So hot.”

  “I’m okay, Tru. You can go harder.”

  I winked with a half grin. “Your wish is my command.”

  I didn’t want to brag—Who am I kidding?—but I used every muscle in my thighs, ass, abs, and hips to give Adam the ride of his life. He loved it, too. Or else he was a gifted faker. But no…that wasn’t Adam. He was all real. And I loved him for it.

  My thoughts spiraled out of control as the words hit me.

  I love him.

  I bent over, tucking my knees under his ass, and buried my face in his neck. I licked the salt on his hot skin and moaned at the taste and the new sensations racing through my body. The emotions threatened to choke me.

  Adam wrapped his legs around my back and cradled my head in his hands. He pulled my face up for a kiss. God, he loved my mouth. I loved his, too. Adam getting off to my sucking on his tongue had been the hottest fucking thing I’d ever experienced.

  “Truman.” He moaned and pressed his head into the pillow.

  “Adam.” I licked and kissed a line up his throat and kissed the edge of his chin.

  He shifted, and I met his gaze. My cock shuttled in and out of his body, but it was in our eyes and our hearts that our worlds were exploding.

  Adam

  I’d never experienced anything like what Truman was doing to my body. He didn’t perform the bare minimum in order to get himself off, like so many other guys I’d been with. And it wasn’t that many. No, he used his entire body to bring me to new heights of pleasure.

  My mind had flown away, hovering in the stratosphere in a ruby haze of lust. I’d anchored his body to me, afraid he’d stop. He didn’t. Not even when our gazes clashed and held, and something tender passed between us.

  This wasn’t fucking, or even sex. This was making love, and it was everything I’d ever dreamed it would be. Calling me sweetheart when he thrust into that spot deep inside me that made everything flash white.

  In that moment, I knew two things: I was head over heels for Truman James. And I had no idea where we went from here.

  Chapter 20

  The Past Is Past, and We’re Here Now

  Adam

  The next two weeks passed in a happy bubble. I got a lot of work done, and despite not being ready for Truman to read my unedited manuscript, I got to read his script and give my opinion. Big thumbs-down. For the first time since he began his career, Truman told his agent what kind of role he wanted to play.

  “Jay’s still not answering.” I sighed and put my phone on the coffee table.

  “I’m sorry.” Truman rubbed my thigh.

  We were lounging on the couch, doing our own thing after coming in from a boating lesson. I wasn’t great at it. I got nervous I was going to hit a rock or something, but Truman said it was good enough that I knew the basics in case I had to take the boat by myself.

  “It’s the equivalent of learning a stick shift in a car. It’s just a good idea,” he’d said.

  When I’d said I didn’t know how to drive a stick shift either, he’d given me a look that told me I had driving lessons in my future as well. I didn’t mind. Truman was a good teacher. Surprisingly patient.

  We hadn’t heard anything from the reporter, and all Brian had said was, “It’s taken care of, mate.”

  Daniel hadn’t pulled much information about Jay, though he had a few addresses in San Francisco for his family. He offered to go and check it out, but I’d said no. I figured if Jay was in trouble, he’d ask for help. If he wasn’t, I’d be invading his privacy, and we were too new at our friendship for that. But I still worried.

  “Hey, I’m sure he’s okay,” Truman assured me.

  I smiled and took his hand. “Thanks.”

  “What do you want for dinner?”

  I opened my mouth, but his cell rang. He’d been right about the spotty reception, but I’d figured out the best spot for calls was the south side of the house. Truman went to answer, and I opened my laptop to write.

  Truman returned after a few minutes, face hard as stone.

  My heart plummeted. “What happened?”

  “There’s been a leak. Someone…” he sighed. “Someone close to you has sold your story to the media. I’m so sorry.”

  All the air in my lungs whooshed out and spots danced in front of my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. A hand on my nape pushed me forward, and I stared at the floor between my feet. It was a nice floor, dark wood and shiny.

  What’s happening again? Oh, yeah. My life is completely exposed for the world to see.

  What if they discovered my ex-boyfriend, Brandon? I squeezed my eyes closed, a hundred horrific scenarios running through my mind as to what he’d say to a reporter. Like the way he’d gotten me high because he’d said it’d help relax me, and I’d let him fuck me. I’d found out the next day his roommate had watched the whole thing. I’d hated myself for staying with him for three more months after that. Ugh, God. Now, I was thinking about that again. I’d have to tell Deborah.

  “Adam, sweetheart, please say something.”

  It sounded like he’d been talking to me for a long time while I’d been checked out.

  “I need to walk,” I managed to rasp out.

  “Oh, okay. Of course.”

  He stuffed my feet into my shoes, and my arms into my jacket sleeves, then got me up and moving out the door.

  “I’m so sorry about this, Adam.”

  After a minute, I was able to walk without leaning on him, but I didn’t push him away. I supposed it was kind of his fault, but he’d done everything he could to make up for it. Besides, I was the one who agreed to go out with him. I could’ve kept saying no until he’d gotten the message, so I’d known this was always an inevitability.

  I wasn’t mad at him; I was panicked over the situation.

  “They’re going to know everything about me. Every little detail of my life.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Please, stop apologizing. Let’s just figure out what to do from here.”

  Truman squeezed my hand. “You’re right. I have to deal with the media every day. I’ll talk to Angela. She’s probably going to want to do our own story. Straight from the horse’s mouth kind of thing.”

  I blanched and my stomach revolted. I swallowed a few times. “I have to do an interview?”

  “Maybe. But we might be able to get away with me doing the talking.”

  I nodded hard. “Yes. That. Please.”

  He gave me a soft smile. “You okay?”

  I shrugged. “What did the story say?”

  He hesitated. “Hear me out before you take my head off.”

  I froze. “What?”

  “I think it might be better if you don’t read anything about yourself. If you do, I’m afraid it’ll go on and on in your head, and you won’t be able to stop thinking about it.” Truman stopped to study my reaction. “Does it help knowing that I know what it says, and I’m going to handle it?” He broke off, pensive and worried.

  I took his hand and started to walk again. Would having him deal with all of it make me a coward? Plus, the constant wondering about what was said
about me was still there.

  “It does help, but I don’t want to hide behind you. Scratch that. I do when it comes to interviews and stuff.” I licked my lips. “I don’t want you to feel responsible for my mental health.”

  Truman put his arm around me. “How about if I give you the gist of what it says, and you forget to worry about the details?”

  “Forget, huh? We can try it.”

  Truman gave me a long look. “It gave your basic information. Full name and where you were born. Where you went to school and who you work for. Then it went on to say that you were a…”

  “Say it. I don’t want you to hide things.”

  “A snob who thinks you’re better than everyone else.”

  I planted my feet and stared at Truman. “What?” I breathed. I rubbed my chest and blinked my eyes a few times to clear away the mist. Truman waited while I worked it out, then held out his arms. I threw myself at him and clung tight.

  He made soothing noises in my ear me. “It’s all right, sweetheart. What you need to keep at the forefront of your mind when it comes to things like this, is that you know the truth. You know it, and no one else’s opinion matters. Okay?”

  “Yours matters,” I mumbled into his neck.

  “Thank you. But you get what I’m saying. They can write lies all day, but in the end it doesn’t matter.”

  I pulled away, arms still around his waist. “I guess it could be worse than being called a snob. I had a pretty bad boyfriend in college.”

  Truman’s lips pressed flat. “We should tell Angela in case he decides to make a quick buck.”

  “Crap.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  The anger in Truman’s eyes made my breath catch in my throat. He really cared about me. Even he wasn’t that good of an actor.

  “Not physically,” I admitted, breathless.

  He frowned and tangled his lips with mine. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. But that was years ago.”

  “Some things can stay with you.”

  Truman looked off into the distance, and I knew he was thinking of himself. We’d never gotten around to discussing what he’d eluded to about his past.

  “Do you want to tell me?” I asked.

  “Right now?”

  “It’s up to you.”

  Truman considered it as we continued walking to the dock and sat in the chairs.

  “I told you about my family’s health issues. I was morbidly obese until I was seventeen.”

  I held his hand and waited. A cool breeze came off the water and fluttered his dark hair. He hadn’t shaved once since I’d met him, and he had a short beard and mustache. He’d always be gorgeous to me, but I knew how vulnerable he must feel telling me of his perceived past imperfections.

  “I began to starve myself, so I had an eating disorder on top of it. Long story short, I started to lift weights. Once I’d lost the weight and toned up, I promised myself I’d never go back. I destroyed every picture and negative of me from that time. I only let my mom keep my baby pictures.”

  “Oh, Truman.”

  He blinked hard. The sunlight off the water made his dark-blue eyes flash. “It’s too late to regret it now. It’s done.”

  “That’s not all,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I was the kid they tortured every day in school. I heard every name you can imagine. They smeared chocolate pudding on the seat of my pants and made farting sounds when I walked by.”

  I swallowed my tears, stood, and climbed onto his lap.

  He gave me an absent smile but kept his eyes on the water. “There was one kid, Toby Myers. He was the worst. It was in junior high school. He took pictures of me in the locker room. I wasn’t completely naked, thank God—I always refused to do that, or to shower there—but it was enough. He made flyers and posted them all over the school.” He huffed. “Not very imaginative but it did the damaged he’d hoped it would. He was suspended for two days. That’s it. Two days. And I heard his dad let him go to the mall both days.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Truman tightened his arm around me. “We got the pictures from him.”

  “That’s why you destroyed all your pictures?”

  “Yes. Once I started modeling, I knew someone would use them against me.”

  He was leaving out far more than he was sharing, but I didn’t want to make him relive all those memories. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry you had to live through that, but I’m glad you’re not suffering anymore.”

  Truman turned his eyes to me with a smile. “Thanks for listening. You’re the only who knows besides my parents. And the kids that did it, but I changed enough between the last time any of them saw me and when I began modeling, that I doubt any of them know who I am.”

  “Did you leave school and get your GED?”

  “I graduated early. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

  I smoothed the hair from his forehead. “What about Daniel? Does he know?”

  “I told him how I used to be, but I didn’t give many details. Same with Angela.” He hesitated. “It’s not that I’m ashamed I was obese. At least, not anymore,” he said with a frown. “But the trauma that I went through,” he shook his head sadly, “has been with me my whole life.”

  “I understand.” I kissed him and pulled back. “Wait, does that mean you changed your name?”

  Truman nodded once. “Legally. I was born James McCamish.”

  “Oh, Tru. Do you want me to call you James?”

  He grinned and hugged me tight. “So. Sweet.” He pecked my lips. “No. I’m Truman now, but thank you.”

  “Do you talk to your parents much?”

  “A few times a year. Birthdays and Christmas. We’re casual acquaintances at best. I’m closer to my family here.”

  “I don’t want to keep saying I’m sorry, but I am. I’m even happier you have this place now.”

  “You don’t talk to your parents much either, do you?” Truman asked.

  “No. Just Dad every month or so. I haven’t spoken to my mom in years. Why the estrangement?”

  Truman rolled his lips inward, then said, “They didn’t help me much. I would tell them about it, the bullying. It was kind of like how you said your dad believed Chad over you. Mine believed the school over me. They said it was just kids being kids, and I’d get over it. And when my eating disorder started, they ignored it. It was Bill who got me a counselor and a nutritionist. He was the one who discovered me and became my first agent. He’s been my manager ever since.”

  “Wow. How could they not see that you needed help?”

  Truman hugged me again and buried his head in my neck. I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his head.

  “Let’s go into town, so I can call Angela with better reception.”

  I nodded and stood. He ran inside to grab his phone and keys, and we left for the mainland. He made me sail the whole way. My attempts at steering the boat to the dock had Truman laughing, chasing the sadness from his eyes. And despite the mess waiting for us at home, it seemed we both felt lighter.

  Chapter 21

  Truman and Adam

  Truman

  We took over Brian’s office again, and Adam had forgotten to bring his laptop, so he asked Brian if he could use his.

  I showed Brian the article about Adam, and he cursed. “How’s he doing?”

  “Surprisingly okay. He had a small panic attack earlier, but he’s better now.”

  “Do you—”

  Alarmed at Brian’s expression of wary sadness, I pressed, “What?”

  “You don’t think this will make him want to stop seeing you, do you?”

  I swallowed the sudden lump threatening to choke me. “I don’t think so. Adam is stubborn when he sets his mind to something. It’s not being with me that’s the problem. It’s having to talk to people, having them ask questions and expecting an answer.”

  “Huh,” Brian grunted as he looked at me. He shook his head. “Y
ou two haven’t known each other that long. You already sound like you’re inside his head.”

  I smiled. “He made sure I knew what I was getting into.”

  Brain laughed and slapped me on the back. “I’ve got customers to serve. I’ll see ya later.”

  “Later. Thanks.”

  When he’d shut the door behind him, I called Angela. Adam had finally gotten ahold of Jay, and he sat with his earbuds in for privacy.

  Angela picked up and the telltale sound of smoke being sucked into lungs came through the line from thousands of miles away. “Truman. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “I know that, Angela. Who did it?”

  She sighed and sucked some more tar in. “Well, Susan Reggalis from that shitty tabloid ran the story. Word is she paid Chad McGuire fifty grand.”

  “Fuck!”

  Adam jumped in his chair, and I held up my hand in apology. When he turned to the computer, I pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “That goddamn leach. I’ll fucking ruin him for this.” Angela’s deep yet somehow still feminine chuckle made me pause. “What did you do?”

  “I’ve already started digging on him, Tru.”

  “Hold on that. I mean keep digging, but I can’t do anything without Adam’s go-ahead. He’d kill me—why are you laughing?”

  “I never thought I’d see the day Truman James held someone else’s feelings above his own.”

  Her laughter died, and I snorted.

  “I do,” I said quietly. “And I really don’t want to fuck it up, Ang. Not like this. I just found him.”

  “Well,” she said on a sigh. “You know what we can do. Ignore it. Or…”

  “Put our own story out there. I know. He won’t do anything live. I might be able to take him to an interview for an article.”

  “I’ll put some feelers out for the best options. I’m sure they’ll jump at it.”

  “I have to tell him about this. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Truman, we can’t wait too long. You know that the longer you wait, the more people read it and believe it.”

  “I know. I’ll call you back.”

  I hung up and looked up to find Adam watching me.