Hollywood's Secret Baby

ie. Or my bed, for that matter.”

“Not yet,” I say, my self-confidence still not recovered, despite Cory’s attempts to lift me up.

We’ve been half sitting up this whole time, leaned against the headboard. But he pulls us down, sliding us under the blankets. “Tomorrow is a new day. When we wake up, you get a new chance.”

I glance at my phone. Calculate how much I can sleep if I conk out right now. Gag at the disgustingly low number.

The worst part is that a nervous energy keeps my right foot tapping my left under the blanket. I’m staring up at the ceiling, the darkness coating everything in shades of gray. My brain is buzzing, leaping from thought to thought, imagining what the morning will bring. The dread fills me up and threatens to poison my brain.

That’s when Cory’s hand slips just under the hem of my shirt. His fingers are warm against my bare stomach. He curls up behind me, spooning me, his cock pressed against my ass.

I’m not the only one struggling to sleep.

Over the course of two minutes, he grazes his fingertips over my belly, each circular movement bringing his touches a little bit lower. I find myself biting my lip with anticipation as all other thoughts evaporate like the fog lifting from the city, revealing the cerulean skies once more.

He then goes straight down past my pubis bone, and I respond by parting my legs to allow him access. His fingers tactfully parting my pussy’s lips, sliding up and over my clit, and drawing circles around my little nub of nerves ready to explode with pleasure. When he adjusts his position, I feel his dick press into the back of my thigh again. I actually wouldn't mind taking this time a little slow, since we haven’t exactly had a chance for a drawn-out lovemaking session yet. Everything has been rushed, and while I should be focusing on finishing quickly so I can grab at least a few hours of sleep, Cory is rushing.

For just a second of clarity, I wonder if he too is using this as a distraction. Because he’s certainly diving in fast and hard.

These thoughts too dissipate as I reach back and take hold of his cock. Cory leans over me, kissing a trail up my jaw line while I pump up and down his length. Then I scoot my butt up and bring his tip to my pussy. While still holding him, I use two fingers to pull my panties over to the side, and then I direct him to my entrance.

Cory pushes inside of me, filling me up in a smooth, slow motion. His hand never stops drawing circles around my clit, and soon he’s falling into a rhythm, pressing into me, pausing, and allowing each of us to feel utterly connected for just half a second before he pulls almost all the way back out again.

I match the rhythm of his hips by pressing my ass back each time he pumps in. As our speed ramps up and desperation to reach the shining light taunting us with an explosion of oxytocin urges us onward, my hand goes up to my breast, cupping and squeezing. I’m moaning, as is Cory, which I find completely sexy. I love it that he’s not just humping me in awkward silence. This time, he’s letting himself go, falling into the pool of ecstasy with equal abandon.

His hands grip at my hips, his fingernails biting into my skin, but I don’t care, because I can focus on nothing but the fullness of him inside me and his lips taking turns kissing at my neck and tickling at my ears.

When I’m just about to cum, I reach down and entwine my fingers with his. The headboard tapping against the wall reaches a crescendo, and Cory cums first, but I’m not far behind.

I love the way I can feel him exploding inside me. How his cock pulses even thirty seconds after he’s collapsed back on the pillow. My own orgasm has left me content, weak, and ready for nothing more than to shut my eyes and sleep. But first I have to get up to pee.

Cory says nothing when I leave him behind in the bed. In fact, by the change in his breathing, I’m pretty sure he’s already halfway dipped into his dreams.

When I finish up in the bathroom, I go to slide into the bed when Lizzie appears at the bedroom door. She wipes at her bleary eyes with the back of her hand.

“Can I sleep in here?” she asks with a yawn.

God, am I glad she didn’t show up two minutes earlier.

“Sure, baby. Come on.”

I slide into the middle of the bed since Cory is naked under the blankets, and I don’t need Lizzie discovering that in the middle of the night. As soon as Lizzie curls up beside me, she’s out. But sleep still eludes me.

After ten minutes, I’m finally starting to drift off when Cory’s phone buzzes on the nightstand. I reach for it automatically, not to snoop but to check the time before shutting it off. That’s when I see the message he’s just received. And once my eyes have glanced over it, there’s no stopping my brain from dissecting each and every word:

I hope you enjoyed my reminder today. Don’t forget that I own you.

Ominous doesn’t even begin to describe the chills that stop my good feelings in their tracks. It’s not just the message itself, but the man who sent it.

Jeb Eli.

Everyone’s heard the rumors about this infamous Hollywood producer. The accusations lobbied against him that his slimy friends always help him dodge. Everyone knows he’s a misogynist at best and a rapist at worst. I’ve even heard that he welcomes other celebrities into his sadistic flock, and then uses illegal footage of them committing heinous acts to blackmail them.

And he just said that he owns Cory.

If you are the company that you keep, what does that make the man sleeping beside me? The best friend I thought I knew?

Chapter 15