Bradley's Whistle (P.ornstars of Romance #2) (15 page)

“I have done a threesome in which another woman was present. It was . . . nice.” She said it with a shrug, as if trying to find the words to explain it and came up short. “She did most of the work because I didn’t really have a clue what to do. I guess you could say she was the giver and I was the receiver.” It was Aedan’s turn to groan. “I prefer men, though. I’m definitely not gay or bisexual. In the words of oh wise one here beside me,” she nodded in Casey’s direction, “I prefer the meat and veg.”

Now we all groaned, Casey included, though I assumed his groan was born of horror rather than the sharp desire I was feeling, which no doubt had Aedan’s pants tightening, too.

“I hear working in front of the camera isn’t as enjoyable as one might think.”

I shook my head at Aedan and frowned. “Where the fuck would you have heard that?”

He shrugged. “I’m a man. I have Google,” he said with a grin. “What man hasn’t thoroughly researched porn?” At that moment Angelina approached the table. “Ahhh, love, I’ll have a pint of gat.”

Wiska and Casey both looked confused again, but Angelina understood he was asking for a simple Guinness. Her eyes then settled on their empty glasses, and Casey quickly ordered more of the same, and a whiskey for me.

“Put it on Bradley’s tab,” he added with a wink.

Angelina looked confused for a moment.

“Just put it on my tab, Angelina.”

“So, is it true? Do you fake most everything?” Aedan persisted, excitement easily identifiable in his tone.

“Aedan,” I growled. “Wiska didn’t come out to talk shop.”

“No, it’s okay,” Wiska interceded. “The company I work for does everything they can to make scenes comfortable for their actors. The cameramen try to be inconspicuous, but when you have someone sticking a camera lens down around the business end, it’s awfully mood destroying. I faked most my orgasms, but there was one that snuck up on me in the last scene I did.” Wiska smiled at the memory.

I gripped my whiskey glass so tight I thought it might break. I wanted to be the one to give her orgasms, dammit!

“I guess I was beginning to feel a little more comfortable with the people around me by that point, but yeah, it’s not really all that pretty on a porn set. Sometimes you need to use lube to make things more comfortable, and that gets all sorts of messy. Once we had to cut in the middle of a scene so someone could work around our joined bodies with Kleenex to clean away the extra lube that had dripped down my thigh. Once I was cleaned up, it was straight back into the action like we had never stopped.”

The table went silent. I was thinking thoughts of murder, images of Wiska in that position fueling my anger. I hated her talking about this shit. Aedan looked a little shocked, and Casey looked far too curious.

“Really?” Casey asked. “You just lay there, with him in you while someone mopped you up?”

Wiska shrugged. “Well, yeah, it’s part of the job. No doubt you’ve had to stop in the middle of a furbaby bath to trim away dingleberries, right?”

“He had dingleberries?” Casey exploded loudly.

Wiska giggled. “Hell, no. I’m just trying to find a comparison.”

“There is no comparison,” Casey huffed.

“My first scene was probably the single most awkward moment of my life. I had no idea what to do when the director called a wrap. It was almost like doing the walk of shame, and I felt so clumsy and out of my element that as soon as my dressing gown was on, I began high-fiving everyone in the room and shouting, ‘Great job!’.” She rolled her eyes and stared at Casey. “Apparently, that is not exactly how a scene is wrapped up, and it became a big joke. From that day on, every time I passed by someone from Kink Harder, they would raise their hand for a high-five.”

Casey grinned and raised his hand high in the air. “Lay one on me, poppet.”

Wiska elbowed him in the ribs. “I need a bathroom break.”

She suddenly looked a little uncomfortable and even vulnerable with the direction the conversation had gone, and I appreciated the break. I needed a moment’s reprieve from her horrific pornography tales. I pointed to the door where she would find the bathrooms, and she quickly disappeared.

“You really have your work cut out for you,” Aedan murmured at my side.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I fucking do.”

Wiska took her time in returning. I began to get anxious when she finally stepped towards our table. Rather than sitting beside Casey though, her gaze fell to the small stage and pole before us. She cast me a naughty smile before climbing on top of it. I sat up a little straighter, worried security might drag her down any moment. When she gave Niles, the DJ, a little wave, I realized she had already set this up.

Casey and Aedan, who had been deep in conversation about Casey’s suit, became silent. Then, the entire bar fell fucking silent. The music stopped, and voices dropped to a murmur before loud, pumping music began to thump out of the hidden speakers once more. It was LMFAO’s “Sexy And I Know It”. The music was fast and edgy, but Wiska moved slowly. She rolled her hips, and her thighs caressed the pole as her body moved like a water. Turning, she bent over and allowed her ass to skim the pole, her hands stroking her ankles before she unhurriedly stood up with a swing to her hips. One arm reached above and grabbed the pole, and then she swung around it. She didn’t move fast; it was a slow seduction as she twisted around the pole until her thighs gripped the brass length, her feet hooked to hold her in place, and her body draped backwards so her perky breasts were thrust firmly forward, her head hanging down, her eyes closed. With an agile grace, she did a handstand that brought her feet back to the floor, and I’m pretty sure my tongue spilled from my mouth. I wiped my chin just to be sure I wasn’t drooling. She was so fucking beautiful. Facing the pole, she squatted down, her thighs spread, her hips still swinging, and then she rose to stand again. She pulled herself back up the pole, her body inverting and her legs falling into a perfect mid-air split before she swung her body upright. She proceeded to swing around the pole, her legs stretched out straight. When the fast swing slowed, and eventually stopped, she stepped away from the pole, her body still swaying and moving like silk. As the music came to a stop, so did her dance, but my heart hammered like a stallion at a fast run. My cock no longer whistled for Wiska—hell no—now it roared like an impatient beast demanding to sink into the stunning blonde who stole my heart, and quite possibly my sanity with it.

Wiska

All the dancing around me had me shifting with pent up energy. My need to join in was a demanding force, so in typical Wiska fashion, I found the manager and flirted shamelessly until he finally relented. Actually, the flirting hadn’t even come close to breaking him, but dropping the name Bradley Emerson had him snapping to attention. The slightly wacky looking DJ, Nile, had promised to hook me up with some music I could strut to, and one LMFAO club song later, BAZINGA, I was pole dancing. While I tried to convince myself I was dancing for me, I was totally throwing the hips around for Bradley. I didn’t dare look at his face, though. If I had seen the brooding, cranky pout he’d been sporting most the night, I might have fallen on my head in despair. I wanted to see him smile again; I wanted to draw out the youthful, spontaneous Bradley that hid under the acidic layers of moody male.

Once the music had finished, I carefully lowered myself from the small, round stage and sat in my chair. The small crowd that had gathered at a respectable distance to watch quickly disappeared, and when I could no longer stand the silence at our table, I took a long drink from my alcohol free Shirley Temple and looked up, straight into Bradley’s stunned eyes. He wasn’t exactly brooding anymore, but he wasn’t smiling either. He was clearly shocked.

“You so have your job cut for you,” Aedan murmured from his side.

I’m not sure what that meant, but Bradley gave a nod, his intense green eyes set on me, trapping me. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. How could one man hold me captivated with just a look?

“Well,” Casey said, shifting uncomfortably beside me, “all she needs is a penis, and I might try to whisk her off her feet.”

Nobody laughed, and a cloud of awkward silence continued to hang over us.

“So,” I finally said, sucking on the straw of my Shirley Temple.

“So,” murmured Bradley, finally breaking his silence.

“Yeah,” Aedan said with a smile, “so.”

Casey snorted. “Well, the men have been reduced to a monosyllable word. Congratulations, poppet. Now I know how to cut down male testosterone in the span of three minutes.”

“You’re a stripper and a porn star?” Aedan asked, surprised.

“No, I’m not a stripper. I just like to dance.”

“You moved on that pole like a seasoned professional,” Bradley said, sitting back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in a challenging manner. He could look as challenging and cocky as he pleased. He didn’t intimidate me.

“I took lessons with Andi and Leah.”

“Andi and Leah took pole dancing lessons?” He gaped.

“Yeah, Andi’s a good dancer. Leah . . .” I grinned at the memory of her awkward attempt to dance, “not so much.”

“My little cousin’s taking pole dancing classes,” Bradley said with horror.

“She can move, Bradley. You should have seen the lap dance she gave Decker. Oh my, it was scorching, and Decker kicked us all out of the apartment. All Lionel and I heard from our adjoining bedroom wall was OH, MY GOD, OH, MY GOD, OH, MY GOD all night long.” Casey sung, ‘oh, my god’ in a high pitched tone.

Bradley looked pale. “I really didn’t need to hear that,” he confessed.

“Trust me,” huffed Casey, “I really didn’t need to hear it, either.”

“Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” Aedan asked, standing with an outstretched hand.

For some reason, my gaze sought out Bradley’s, almost as if asking his permission. He looked pissed again. To hell with it, if he was going to sulk all night, I was going to have a good time. I grabbed Aedan’s hand and let him pull me to my feet.

“Ummmm . . .” I glanced around the decadent club in search of a dance floor.

“Over here,” Aedan murmured, pulling me to a small section of the club that had been made private with soft, black, chiffon curtains falling from the roof in a large square around the dance space. I could see a few couples dancing through the sheer fabric as Aedan parted a panel and pulled me through. There were a few women, who I’m pretty sure were strippers, dancing with patrons, and I wondered if they were being paid to dance with them. Everyone was touching, some more so than others. Hands moved over bodies without shame or concern for the other people dancing. It was just hands, though; everyone appeared to be behaving themselves otherwise.

Aedan pulled me into his firm chest and wrapped his arms around me, his hands resting at my lower back. He wasn’t as tall as Bradley, but I could feel the hard muscle under his dress shirt. He was handsome in a mischievous and roguish kind of way. The sparkle in his eyes reminded me a little of Decker.

“How’s Bradley’s whisking going?” he asked.

While I liked it when people got straight to the point, his question caught me by surprise.

“Oh, I guess the whisking’s only really just started. We’ve only been on a couple of dates. I’m not even sure you could call them dates, but he kissed me, so I guess that made it a date.” The inconsequential words fell from my lips like a sprung faucet.

“Yeah, a kiss certainly blurs the lines of friendship.” Aedan spun me around, the thumb of one hand rubbing a little circle on my lower back that was pleasant, yet unnerving. It felt wrong. What I really wanted was Bradley’s hands on me, but he was moping like the cantankerous ass he played so well. “If he takes you behind the curtains, those lines will blur a whole lot more.”

“What curtains?” I asked.

Aedan spun me until my back was against his front, one arm wrapped around my waist, another pointing to a curtain that lay against what I thought was a wall. The curtain was pushed aside, and a man and woman stepped from around it, back into the club.

“What’s through there?”

“That’s where men can pay the dancers for services not appropriate in public,” he whispered in my ear.

“And Bradley uses those rooms?”

“We’ve all used those rooms, Bradley included.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Aedan turned me back to face him once more. “Maybe we could slip back there.”

I stopped dancing at his suggestion. “You want to pay me to have sex with you?” I hissed, outraged.

Aedan was wise enough to look contrite. “No money, just two people who are attracted to each other making use of a little privacy.”

Twenty seconds ago, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the curtained off area. Well, I found all those feels real damn quick. They consisted of anger, fury, and maybe a little wrath. I was insulted that Aedan thought he could drag me off for a shameless quickie in the prostitute’s corner of the club. Especially when he knew Bradley was trying to whisk me! And, well, I was jealous over the idea of Bradley going back there. I hated jealousy; it was an ugly emotion and often completely uncontrollable. I focused on the anger rather than the jealousy. Screw this handsome, Irish playboy who assumed I was that easy. I gave Aedan’s chest a little push and put some space between us.

“Let me give you a crash course on adult film stars, Mr. My-Accent-Is-Too-Sexy-For-My-Own-Good. We have a job which requires us to perform sex in front of cameras. It’s a job. We go to work, do our job, and then go home. Some of us have families, husbands, even children. We are not cheap whores willing to screw any man who throws a few nice words at us.”

Aedan looked completely surprised.

“Everything okay here?” came Bradley’s familiar voice.

“I apologize. I meant no offense,” Aedan offered.

“Well, you sure as hell did offend!”

“I hear you, loud and clear. Again, I’m very sorry.” With a meek expression, Aedan disappeared through the fabric surrounding the dance floor.

Meanwhile, I was steaming mad. Bradley approached me cautiously, almost like a man might approach a rabid grizzly bear.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing, it’s what he said!” I snapped.

A few people were watching my little outburst, and embarrassment heated my cheeks. Bradley pulled me into his arms, holding me much like Aedan had. It was more comfortable, though; it felt right. I was still stiff and pissed off from Aedan’s presumptuous attitude, but Bradley moved me slowly, his head dipping until his lips were right by my ear.

“What did he say?” he asked, with almost lethal calm.

“He told me about the curtains,” I said, pulling my head back so he could see my dare-you-to-contradict-me look.

“You have a problem with the BJ rooms?” he asked, with a touch of disbelief, almost as if someone might ask you if you had a problem with the pickles on your cheeseburger.

“BJ rooms?”

“That’s what goes on behind the curtains, oral sex, one way only; the women don’t receive—they’re not allowed to. Other arrangements can be made for more outside the club, but Sanjay, the owner, has a very strict no sex rule for his club.”

“Well, Aedan suggested more went on back there. He offered to take
me
back there. Apparently, it’s normal for men like you and him to use club get-your-cock-out.”

Bradley stilled, his eyes suddenly filled with anger.

“He asked you to go back there with him?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Uh-huh. Personally, I think it’s completely unfair that the act can’t be reciprocated, though. I mean, what’s good for the goose is definitely good for the gander. It sounds to me like Sanjay has a touch of cunnilingus phobia. And maybe we need to check with you first, maybe you’ve got the room booked already.” It was a childish thing to say, but jealousy was a crazy emotion, turning my brains to mush in a heartbeat.

Bradley began dancing again. I could feel the deep rise and fall of his chest before his lips were by my ear once more.

“Pussycat, I’m not going to deny it. I have been back there, but it’s in my past, just like you fucking on camera is in the past. I’m willing to leave it there, if you’re willing to leave the get-your-cock-out corner, as you call it, there.” He kissed a spot under my ear that had a one way buzzer to my lady bits. I stifled a shameless groan—after all, I was mad at him right now. “If Andi can let go of Decker’s past, and I assure you, it’s one sordid past, surely we can do the same.”

And there he went, making all that sense, dammit! I sighed, and my body sagged as the pent up anger disappeared. “I need your secrets, Bradley. They’re like a big damn brick wall between us, and I’m not climbing that sucker. You need to tear it down. You need to tell me what you do for a living.”

“Yeah,” he said with a long exhale. “I’ll tell you.”

When he didn’t go on, I gave his arm a shove. “Okay, I’m ready. Lay it to me.”

“Later,” he chuckled.

“What kind of later? Like two hours later, twenty-four hours later, months later, or years later?”

“When we get home,” he managed to say through bouts of laughter.

“Okay, I can wait that long.”

Instead of relief at the prospect of finally finding out what he did for a living, I was filled with apprehension. How bad could it be? Would it be deal-breaker material? God, could my heart take it? I was already half-way falling for this damn man. Maybe Bradley was overreacting about the employment thing. Maybe he was just embarrassed about whatever it was he did. Good lord, after all this build up, if he tells me he’s an insurance salesman, I might knock him out.

“Let’s get out of here, then.” I tugged on his hand. The schmuck was still laughing, and he pulled me back into his arms.

“I’m not finished. We angry danced, and we need to make up dance.”

“Angry danced?”

“As I recall, you were all bark and snarl when I first came in here.”

“Being propositioned like nothing more than a whore will do that to a girl.”

“But I wasn’t the one propositioning. All I’m guilty of is being a typical, sexually charged man, who spent some time with other women, which, since it was prior to meeting you, means I did nothing wrong.”

I wanted to argue, but he had a point. I hated it when people were so logical. At that moment, Bradley grabbed my ass and dragged me against his body. There was no mistaking the demanding prod from his groin.

“Ever since I met you, I found myself wanting blonde . . . blue eyes . . . sexy red lips . . . and spectacular breasts.” He said it with a mischievous grin, and I melted. If that grin could be bottled and sold with vibrators, someone would become extraordinarily rich!

“Did my snapping and barking get you hard?” I whispered breathlessly.

“Pussycat, I’ve been a walking fucking hard-on for you since the moment you stepped off that damn plane. I almost went to the doctor to see if he could give me a pill to make it go away.”

I laughed. “A pill to make Vlad go down?”

“I was worried it might do permanent damage. You know, too much blood flowing through the head in my pants and not enough flowing through the head on my shoulders.”

I moved my body against his in an effort to deliver a little of the torture Casey suggested I inflict on the man.

“There are things you can do to relieve that kind of tension, you know? Haven’t you ever heard of playing the flute solo?”

Bradley burst out laughing, the deep rumble in his chest a sound I could easily become addicted to.