Decker's Wood (8 page)

“It started with my dad passing away. Then a month later, I did an edit for an author who was also a friend, her manuscript was full of plagiarism and I called her on it. It didn’t go down so well, and, needless to say, we are no longer friends. I crashed my car, my Beetle. I loved my Beetle. I decided to sell my family home, but the kitchen caught on fire the week it went on the market, so I had to pull it off to have some fairly major repairs done. The editing hitch I had with my so called ‘friend’ led to her spreading a few nasty rumors, so business dropped off and I had to pick up a part time job waitressing. The owner of that restaurant had a heart attack and passed away, so I lost my job. It was a slow sloping road to misery that got drastically steeper the day I started dating a guy who turned out to be two sandwiches short of a picnic, if you catch my drift.”

Decker was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure I catch your drift,” he said.

“Oh, you know, just the usual. He started out all sweet and attentive and then our relationship ended up with a restraining order.”

“Explain,” he muttered.

“It was no biggie. He just got a tad possessive and handcuffed me to his kitchen table for a few hours.” I waved it off, but in reality, the entire thing had rattled me to my core. That’s when I decided I needed to know how to protect myself. Learning how to throw a punch and knee a man in the kahunas with Keely The Kickass Tiger was worth every damn penny.

“Handcuffs?” Decker growled, and I waved his outrage off. “He handcuffed you?”

“Only for a few hours; his roommate found me. I called the police and Bradley sorted out the rest.”

“What do you mean Bradley sorted out the rest?” Decker leaned forward, his intense gaze on mine, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Well, creeper didn’t really take the restraining order all that seriously to begin with, so I called Bradley. You know Bradley, he knows…people.” I shrugged. I wasn’t really sure what people Bradley knew, I never questioned it, but one phone call and the boy could have fifty free pizza’s on your doorstep or a debt collector ready to start cutting pinkies off.

“I called Bradley, he made a few calls, and the next time I saw creeper, he looked like he’d kissed a Mack truck going a hundred miles down the highway.” I laughed, I shouldn’t have, but the memory of creeper’s horrified face as he turned in the line at Starbucks and saw me standing behind him was priceless. “Anyway, my luck changed the day I jumped online and found this place. Everything just kinda fell into place from that moment on. Now, I’m as happy as a pig in mud.”

Decker’s glower turned into a smile. “A pig in mud. How very Texan.”

“Well, you know what they say: you can take the girl out of Texas…” We fell into an awkward silence. “So, do you like to read?” I asked, changing the subject.

“I have to read scripts for work sometimes,” Decker confessed.

Scripts? “You’re an actor?” I exclaimed with a shrill scream.

“Sort of.” Decker chuckled nervously. Huh, this little secret of his was starting to intrigue me. The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to know about him. For Decker to be so closed lipped about something as basic as his job, it had me completely and utterly enthralled.

“I’m good with mysteries,” I murmured. “After all, my father wrote some of the best. I’ll figure you out.” Decker abruptly stood and stretched, his shirt riding up high enough to give me a glimpse of the tantalizing
V that forced my gaze down to the low riding jeans that sat on his hips. I quickly averted my gaze before I was caught eyeing the candy.

“I’m beat. I think I’ll get going, Country.”

Strangely, I was disappointed. Even though I had left Casey and Lionel’s desperate for my own company and a good book, I enjoyed having Decker around. Maybe it was our childhood connection or simply the fact that I was all alone in a big city, but his presence calmed me. I grabbed the spare key for the shop door. Decker stood at the top of the stairs as I reached out and handed it to him.

“I don’t know anyone else here, and I would feel better if I knew someone was able to get inside the shop if I needed help or anything.”

Decker reached for the key as if he was gearing up to pet a rattlesnake. “You sure?” he asked.

“Of course. Just keep in mind I know how to throw a punch, so don’t start getting any creepy ideas about letting yourself in to watch me sleep.” That seemed to break the awkwardness that had settled over us.

“No creepy sleep watching. So it’s cool if I watch you take a shower?” he said with a cheeky grin.

I thumped him in the chest, and it hurt my hand. “Ow, damn you’re a perv. Are you made of freakin’ concrete or something?”

Decker took my hand and gently rubbed my fingers. His touch drew my dumbfounded gaze to his, and I melted into liquid as his warm hand engulfed mine.

“That will teach you for getting violent with a machine like me.” As if only now realizing he had my hand in his, he dropped it faster than small town gossip and rubbed his hand on his jeans, as if trying to erase my touch. Well, way to make a gal feel special. “Umm, okay,” he stammered. “You have my number; call me if you need anything, even if you get nervous up here by yourself. I’m only twenty minutes away.”

I nodded, still thrown off kilter by his touch and consequent repulsion to it. “

I’ll lock up,” he said, dangling the key in the air. I watched Decker descend the stairs. “Andi?” He turned back to face me, his eyes flitting from the key in his hand back to me. “I’ve never had keys to a girl’s apartment before. It’s kinda cool, and you can trust me, I won’t disrespect your privacy or anything.” I simply nodded as he left.

When I heard the lock on the shop door engage, I slumped back against the wall. Damn it, what the hell was I thinking? Obviously it was my lady parts making my decisions for me right now. I had to pull my chastity belt back on and lock that thing up tight. There was no way in hell I was going to join the bevy of Decker tramps. I was better than that, I deserved better than that. Yeah, well, tell my throbbing lady parts that.

DECKER

Even though the meeting I was in was one of importance, which required my intuition and business wit, I could not drag my thoughts away from the little strawberry blonde in SoHo. She had sparked something inside me, brought something back to life that I thought was dead. And I wasn’t just talking about my dick. My dull world seemed to have color again, and the laughter I had left behind in a wake of self-pity was back. Just the thought of Andi could make me harden so fast I thought I would faint over the loss of blood in my brain. It was as if my cock had never been on vacation; as soon as it scented Andi, it would stand to attention with a big shit eating grin on its swollen head.

I glanced at the man who sat opposite me. His silver hair was carefully slicked back, his grey suit expensive and cut to perfection. He was not a young man, he was easily pushing sixty, but I knew he had some of the adult industry’s most sought after women in his bed regularly. He was still in good shape, his mind sharp as a tack. Laurie Bishop, AKA The Bishop, was a writer, director, and producer for his own pornographic production company called Bishop X. He was one of the most respected men in the adult film world, having produced quality scenes and movies for over half his life. He was now settled into the high quality digital era, using young, clean, attractive actors, and not merely producing erotic and sensual scenes, but entire damn movies. I had never worked with The Bishop, but to say that starring in one of his films wasn’t at the top of my to-do list would be a load of bullshit. I had jumped at the chance.

Only seeking out the best of the best, The Bishop had approached me. He wanted young, fit actors, drug free, and able to pull off long hours of filming over a few weeks. I should have said no with my ‘condition’, but I couldn’t refuse the opportunity to work with The Bishop. The only thing bothering me about his proposal, so far, wa
s Melody Mona—not her real name—it had a better ring to it than Renee Dalton though. Melody was nice enough, hot as hell, and fucked like nobody’s business, but she had tried a little too hard to make us an exclusive item. I didn’t do exclusive, not in this industry. It was unfair for a woman to be tolerant of me screwing other women, even for work, and any woman who was tolerant of it wasn’t the kind of woman I wanted to be exclusive with. As I sat across from The Bishop, I wondered if he would be prepared to give up Melody? I had just asked him to have her replaced, and he seemed to be considering it.

“Melody has already signed a contract,” he said. “She’s perfect for the film; like you, she has extensive experience, she’s clean, beautiful, and looks incredible on camera.”

“I’m not comfortable working with Melody. What about Leah? She’s hot at the moment, also has plenty of experience.”

The Bishop shook his head. “Leah won’t do D.P.” Damn, I wasn’t a fan of double penetration either; crossing swords could be a messy and uncomfortable situation. “I was told by your agent that wouldn’t be a problem. Did I misunderstand?” The Bishop asked.

“No, no problem. Michael said you didn’t have a contract drawn up yet. What exactly are we looking at here?” Michael, my agent, rarely let a meeting get this far without a dollar amount having been agreed upon in advance. He knew The Bishop though, and he knew my desire to star in one of his films.

The Bishop slid a piece of paper across the table. It was a brief outline of the film’s details. It was planned to be a one hour and fifteen minute final production with a fantasy theme. It would be marketed for women audiences, containing the more feminine desires. A warrior would find a woman in his cave, have his wicked way with her,
and she would flee his tyranny but miss him. The warrior’s brother would take the girl and have his wicked way with her. Then the first warrior would stumble across them, join in, and everyone would live happily ever after. Is this shit seriously what women want, I wondered? The female market for pornography was a rapidly growing trend. The demand for young, athletic, good looking male actors was massive. My phone rang hot these days with offers, but until now, my performance issues had somewhat battered my confidence. While current inclinations in the pornography industry suggested this was the time I should be raking in the big bucks, I was sitting on the side-lines holding my limp dick. The Bishop’s pornographic feature would be filmed over three weeks, with a ten thousand dollar salary for me alone. In pornography, that was some damn good money. The privilege of working for The Bishop was worth several times that. I found myself nodding.

“Looks good, you can count me in.” The Bishop stood with a pleased smile on his face. I stood and accepted his outstretched hand.

“Glad to be the one to bring Steele out of retirement,” he said.

“I look forward to working with you.” The words felt like a lie. Working with The Bishop had been a dream, a
goal, however, now that I had signed up I didn’t feel the elation and triumph I thought I would feel. No, all I could think about was Andi. What would she think if she knew the truth? I was a porn star for Christ’s sake, certainly not a good enough man for someone like Andi.

*

I couldn’t stop thinking about her no matter how hard I tried. It didn’t help that every day she sent me a good morning text accompanied with a picture of a cat. It also didn’t help that I returned her texts with pictures of a dead animals. Not real dead animals, cartoon ones, cute ones. Shit, how old was I again, and where the fuck was my masculinity? I was a pussy whipped mitch. I chuckled to myself, remembering how Casey had explained the complexities of a mitch, a man bitch. The truth of the matter was, I had become intimately acquainted with the term of late. I was officially New York’s greatest mitch who wanted nothing more than to follow the new girl from Texas everywhere she went. Creeper much? I shook off my pathetically needy thoughts and glanced across my breakfast bar. Leah had dropped by and was currently leaning on her elbows before me, her spectacular breasts right there for my viewing pleasure. My body didn’t react to Leah’s splendid beauty though, instead, my thoughts filled with the image of Andi in that yellow dress and cowboy boots. She had moved like a fucking seductress as she danced across Casey and Lionel’s rooftop, and she wasn’t even trying to be sexy. She had laughed like she didn’t have a care in the world, and I had been unable to tear my gaze away from her innocent beauty.

“I saw Donna yesterday.” Leah’s voice snapped me out of my hazy Andi daydream. I grunted as I stuffed a mouthful of Lucky Charms in my mouth. “She said she came by last week.” I didn’t say anything, I knew Leah would drag this conversation in a particular direction, and she’d get
there without me having to put in any effort. “She mentioned she stopped by recently and gave you one hell of a BJ, and in return, she got herself a night of unfulfilled masturbation, alone.”

I grinned, proud of denying Donna all over again. “I wasn’t in the mood. I didn’t invite her over. If she would have called beforehand, I would have saved her the trip and the disappointment.”

Leah’s head dipped to one side, her long hair smooth and straight, fell over her shoulder. She was a spectacular woman, one I indulged in regularly, with and without Cindy. Yet this morning, something felt different as I took in her body. Although my spark of desire had recently been dimmed, it had still been there, even if my dick wasn’t willing to participate. Today, there was nothing. When my thoughts moved effortlessly back to Andi, my heart thumped hard in my chest and my dick twitched. Motherfucker! This couldn’t be good.

“You’ve met someone,” Leah murmured. My eyes flew to hers, no doubt panic written all over my face in very thick, black obvious marker. Leah’s lips turned up into a smile. “Oh my god. I knew you were having issues.” Her gaze dipped to my groin. Yeah, Leah was aware of my problems. “But I had no idea it was over a woman.”

I shook my head in denial. “My problem has nothing to do with a woman.” Too fast, too defensive, I wasn’t convincing anyone, least of all myself. Leah moved quickly forward so she was now standing beside me, her eyes lit up with excitement. “Stop looking at me like that, there’s no one,” I growled.

“There’s someone…” she crooned thoughtfully.

“There is a woman, but I’m not seeing her. We’re just friends.”

Leah was still smiling. “Friends like me and Cindy?”

“I’m not fucking her,” I snapped.

Leah’s eyes got the female wistfulness that women got when they talked about weddings, babies, and love. “She must be pretty special if you’re not fucking her.” I pushed my empty cereal bowl away and stood from the counter, taking a step forward to trap Leah between my much larger body and the counter behind her. She was still staring at me with a knowing smile on her lips.

“She is not even remotely special, she’s just a girl, a girl who I have no intention of burying myself in any time soon.” My voice lowered as my fingers ran up Leah’s flat stomach, over her breasts, finally stopping at the little bow ties that held her flimsy top on her shoulders. I tugged on the ribbons and they fell free. Leah didn’t attempt to stop me as the fabric fell from her body, exposing her perfect breasts. I ran my thumb over her nipple. I loved the feel of a woman’s body, their soft skin and supple curves. Leah’s body was a work of art, and yet as I cupped her breasts and pinched at her nipples, my dick remained impassively bored.

“Why not?” Leah’s voice was far too casual for my ministrations.

I sighed, realizing I was off my game. I was used to my body being completely unresponsive, unless of course your name started with A, ended with I and belonged to a spritely red head with a sexy Texan drawl. But Leah was completely immune to my ministrations and that was a hard blow to my male ego.

“Because it would be dangerous,” I confessed quietly.

“Because you like her.” It wasn’t a question.

“I like you,” I retorted stubbornly.

“It’s not the same. She makes you feel something in here and that freaks you out a little.” Leah placed her hand on my chest, right over my heart. My hands had stilled on her breasts. “But it feels good to feel something in here, right?” She stepped to one side, moving away from my touch, carefully righting her clothes.

“Leah,” I growled. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to
want
to fuck her, badly. But it wasn’t there and Leah knew it. I was trying to prove something and to who, I wasn’t sure.

“Decker, she might be it.” Leah looked at me with soft eyes, her expression pensive. Leah and I had had this conversation many times, the enigma of it, the one thing that would make everything else lackluster and tasteless, the one thing that would sway us from the indulgent and wicked world of adult film. Neither of us would take on a serious companion while we did this job, yet neither of us was prepared to give up the job to find that person. Talk about screwed up, Leah and I were poster girl and boy for emotionally fucked up porn stars.

“Don’t get me wrong, Decker, you can screw like nobody’s business, but this job isn’t you.” She looked at me seriously. “Melody isn’t the only woman on set who would do anything to be yours off set. You are sweet with all us girls, caring, and funny. We don’t call you the Prince of Porn just because of that,” she said, pointing at my groin. “It’s kinda cute when you try to be an asshole, but at the end of the day, you can’t help yourself, Decker, you’re a good guy, a true prince.” I rolled my eyes as Leah strutted towards the door. I wasn’t disappointed she was walking away from me. I was disappointed I didn’t want her like I needed her. “I heard you signed on with The Bishop,” she said as she pulled the door open. I nodded. “Whoever she is, Decker, give her a chance, give it a chance. The job won’t be there forever. While you’re one stunning man, you are no Hugh Hefner. When you’re dick shrivels up and your hair falls out, you’re gonna want a woman by your side, a good woman. Don’t let anything stop the chances of meeting her get in your way.” With that parting piece of advice, she left. The thought of my dick shriveling up and my hair falling out made me feel slightly ill. I had to hand it to Leah, when she gets all philosophical and shit, she leaves your thoughts chaotic. Right now, mine were a fucking mess.

*

“I don’t know, Decker, that looks expensive. I’m not sure if I can afford it,” Andi said nervously as I struggled through her front door with the massive box. It was a state of the art security system with all the bells and whistles. It had cost a little over four grand, but there was no way I was telling Andi that.

I tried not to look at her as I sat the box down, she was far too distracting. Just being in the same room as her made my body thrum with life, and it took all my discipline and parental ingrained manners to keep my hands to myself.

“I have a friend in security. I got this at cost, five hundred dollars.” Andi raised a brow and I laughed. Yeah, she was hardly buying that.

“Is it stolen?” she asked, her eyes narrowed.

“Of course it isn’t stolen,” I balked indignantly. She didn’t look convinced, but thankfully my friend had provided me with a dud invoice. I whipped it out and showed her. “You wound me with your accusations,” I said as I began unpacking the box.

“Okay, big guy, do your stuff and make me safe then.”

While Andi shuffled around the store looking for things to clean, I installed her system. An hour later I showed her the security panel behind the front counter and explained how to arm and disarm the device. I also screwed a bell above the door that would alert her to people coming and going. If I had to listen to that sound all day, I think I would slit my wrists. Andi loved it though, said it added character and charm to the place.