The Pucking Wrong Guy: Chapter 13

I was leaving practice, about to head over to the restaurant to pick Blake up from her shift, when my phone buzzed from inside my practice bag.

I cursed as I dug around in it, my equipment badly needed to be washed. It fucking reeked.

“Got it!” I cried out victoriously. Walker shot me an amused look as he headed to his truck, and I was tempted to throw some of my sweaty socks at him. Staring down at the message though, I forgot all about Walker.

The text was from my P.I.

I clicked on the link he’d sent, skimming through the information for the job. Everything looked fine until…

MOTHERFUCKING DEREK THORNTON!

I nearly choked on my protein shake, the rich liquid taking an unexpected detour to my lungs. Derek Thornton? The same A List actor Derek Thornton who had more romantic connections in Hollywood than the entire LA phonebook? The guy whose commitment issues could give the Great Wall of China a run for its money?

Not fucking happening.

I wasted no time, immediately dialing David’s number. ‘David, are you absolutely certain about this? Derek Thornton?’

“Yes, Mr. Lancaster. I’m quite positive,” David’s weaseling voice said, obviously perturbed by me questioning his intel.

I cursed beneath my breath. The last thing that was going to happen was Derek Thornton in a room with Blake. He would take one look at my gorgeous goddess of a woman and try to leap in for the kill.

Like I’d just said…not fucking happening.

I really needed to be able to play in Dallas next week, not go to jail for homicide.

“Okay. Thanks, David,” I said, hanging up without another word and frantically dialing Remy, the agent I shared with Lincoln. It took me three fucking tries because I was freaking out so badly.

“What’s up, my man?” Remy asked when he picked up. I could hear tons of people talking in the background. There was no one quite as good at schmoozing as Remy.

‘Remy,’ I began, my mind spinning. ‘I need you to work some magic for me. Find out everything you can about the shoot Renage is doing tomorrow—whose brainchild it is, the concept, the entire angle they’re pitching. Then, make sure I’m part of the shoot instead of Derek Thornton.’

There was a pause, almost as if Remy was contemplating the absurdity of my request. ‘Ari, let me get this straight…you want me to get you in a campaign scheduled to shoot tomorrow where you replace an A list actor as the male lead?’

“Yes,” I said, relieved he got it.

“Ari, buddy. You’ve been playing great, but not this kind of great.”

I scoffed. I was playing fucking phenomenal!

I paced my living room, desperation overtaking reason. ‘Remy, despite the fact that you clearly have lost your mind–because I’m fucking amazing–I need you to promise them anything they want to get me in this campaign. I will do it for free. TELL THEM I HAVE A FUCKING PIERCED DICK! Just find a fucking way.’

Remy sighed, an audible resignation in his voice. ‘Alright, Ari. But how do you expect me to explain your sudden, burning desire to participate in this campaign? Do you want to explain it to me?’

I ran a hand through my hair, my thoughts a whirlwind. ‘Think outside the box, Rem-dog. Tell them I’ve had a sudden ‘epiphany,’ or that I’ve recently developed an addiction to Renage. Well, actually…what exactly does Renage sell?”

“Ari Fucking Lancaster!” Remy spit.

“Kidding. Kidding. Of course I know what Renage is. Psssh. Tell them I’m a devoted believer in…Renage. Just get it done.’

“I’ll do my best,” Remy said in the most resigned fucking voice I’d ever heard.

This was not that hard of a sell, for fuck’s sake. I was amazing.

Hours crept by like an eternity, each minute feeling like a countdown to the end of my fucking life. The prospect of Derek Thornton hovering around Blake was driving me insane. If this didn’t work, I was going to have to puncture her tires, break her phone so she couldn’t call an Uber, puncture my tires so she couldn’t borrow my car…kidnap her and take her to some deserted island. I was sure I could find one in a pinch if I really needed to.

Daddy Lincoln would let me use his new private jet.

Finally, Remy texted me. ‘You’re in. Get ready for some media attention.’ There was more information he sent in a link but I didn’t click on it. I was currently on the floor, breathing in relief.

I hadn’t quite been prepared for a kidnapping.

Blake

The day of the Renage photo shoot had arrived, and I was a mess. It was the first job I’d booked in California since the Voyage Magazine job had fallen apart. Renage was a colossal opportunity, one that I hadn’t thought I had a chance at. It could be the break I’d been looking for.

As I sat in my room though, my anxiety swirled around me like a malevolent storm.

Waldo lay at my feet, his big brown eyes filled with concern. He nuzzled his wet nose against my hand, trying to offer comfort. I scratched his ears and offered him a weak smile, grateful as usual for his unwavering presence.

But no amount of furry affection could stop the relentless anxiety gnawing at me. Doubts plagued my mind, whispering insidiously that I was going to fuck it all up.

And then there was the pizza box sitting on my nightstand. I’d lost my mind and eaten it with Ari last night. I could still feel the greasy, cheese-laden slices churning in my stomach.

I stood in front of the mirror, hating every part of myself as I examined my reflection. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a harsh spotlight on my features. The voice in my head was loud this morning, making me an avalanche of self-doubt and self-loathing.

My eyes traced the lines of my body, lingering on the areas where I felt the most insecure. I was spiraling, despising every curve, every imperfection, every ounce of flesh on my body.

The guilt washing over me was familiar. I’d struggled with…food issues early on with the Shepfields. Maura kept a careful eye on my weight, weighing my food and restricting it so I looked exactly how she wanted. She’d raised me to think of food as the enemy. But an enemy I could defeat as long as I was disciplined.

A part of me knew my thoughts were unreasonable. But the other part of my brain, the one that was cursing me for daring to eat a slice of pizza before such a big job…it was much louder.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them away, unwilling to let them fall. I could control my thoughts. I could—I turned sideways, scrutinizing my profile. My fingers traced the outline of my ribs, a ritualistic gesture that provided me with a twisted sense of reassurance. The bones beneath my skin were like a map of my self-control, a testament to the discipline I had imposed upon myself.

Without warning, I bolted from my seat and rushed to the bathroom, Waldo following closely behind. I stared at the toilet, trying to talk myself out of throwing up.

It didn’t work. I clung to the toilet bowl, my thoughts spiraling into a chaotic abyss.

Twenty minutes later, I rose unsteadily to my feet and rinsed my mouth. Waldo looked up at me, his eyes filled with concern, and I patted his head, trying to comfort him.

With trembling hands, I tried to pull myself together.

The worst part was that not only did I not feel thinner…but now I felt sick. My throat was sore, my eyes were bloodshot, my skin felt clammy…and my stomach muscles were aching.

“I’m a mess,” I whispered, wishing I could engage in my other dirty little secret and release some of this pain.

I walked back into my room and my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I rushed to pick it up, the screen illuminating with Ari’s message: ‘Good luck today, sunshine. See you soon.’

A surge of warmth immediately washed over me…but also shame. He was my chance…my chance for a good thing. And when he found out how messed up I was…it was going to fuck it all up.

My phone pinged again, signaling my Uber was there.

I was close to hysterics as I grabbed my bag and headed out into the living room. Charlotte was on the couch flipping through channels on the tv, and she gave me a weird look as I passed by…crying. I whispered, “see ya,” and went out the door before she could ask me any questions.

I wiped at my face before I stepped into the waiting car. I could get through today. I could seize the opportunity. I had to seize the opportunity.

I couldn’t lose Ari.

The driver set off, the city rushing past me and the weight of my past feeling like a weight stretched taut across my skin.

Thirty minutes later, we’d made it to the expansive warehouse hosting the Renage photo shoot. My stomach had churned the whole ride over with lingering discomfort. I thanked the driver and walked inside, immediately enveloped by all the activity on the set. The bustling makeup artists, hairstylists, and wardrobe assistants, all seemed distant, as if they were moving through a haze. My steps were unsteady, and I clung to each breath, willing the feeling of unease to subside.

Bright lights hung overhead, their intensity exacerbating my discomfort, casting stark shadows that danced before my eyes. The vivid backdrop, a surreal mural of vibrant colors and intricate details appeared almost dreamlike, like a mirage shimmering in the distance.

I rounded a corner, and froze in my tracks. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped as I spotted a familiar butterfly tattoo on a well-built, bronzed back.

Instead of Derek Thornton, Ari Lancaster was there in front of me, modeling a pair of tight black Renege boxer briefs that left almost nothing to the imagination.

The thin cotton fabric clung to his body like a second skin, accentuating the masterpiece of his muscles. My senses tingled, my body responding instinctively to the sight before me, a surge of desire making my core tighten. You could see the enormous outline of his cock through the briefs. The sight was erotic and outrageous.

And mine. I knew what that cock could do. I knew how it felt inside me.

I’d taken his cum into my body, over and over again. No one ever had his cum but me.

I squeezed my fists, taking in everyone around the room who was staring at him, lusting after him. I wanted to rip him away, cover him with my body so they knew he belonged to me.

My eyes traced the captivating lines of his V, and I could feel that my panties were damp. I think it would take a lifetime to truly explore him like I wanted to…to uncover his magic.

As if he could sense me, he glanced over his shoulder with a lazy smile…and he winked.

Like “surprise!” I decided to star in your shoot without telling you.

Before I could do anything…or even react to his wink, a harried looking woman with a large black headset popped up in front of me.

“There you are!” she snapped. “We need to get you ready.” When I didn’t move as fast as she wanted, she clapped on her clipboard. “NOW!”

I hurried to where she was pointing, glancing over at Ari who was glaring at the woman with the scariest face I’d seen on him.

Hoping he didn’t say anything to her, I rushed into the dressing room, where a flurry of activity surrounded me. Within moments, I found myself slipping into a barely-there black lace negligee set, oil and bronzer being rubbed all over my skin. My hair and makeup were expertly done, transforming me into someone I scarcely recognized. My eyes were adorned with smoky, sultry eyeshadow and my lips were painted a vibrant shade of crimson, a bold contrast to the smoky eyes. My hair was styled into loose, cascading waves that framed my face. The soft curls tumbled down my shoulders.

As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, the insecurity I’d been distracted from in my shock at seeing Ari here…it came roaring back.

Knowing I couldn’t delay any longer, I took a deep breath and pushed open the dressing room door, stepping into the studio. The moment I entered, Ari’s gaze snapped towards me. His jaw dropped, and his eyes were comically wide.

“Wow,” he mouthed, putting his hand on his heart and pretending to stagger. His gaze roamed over my appearance and then he was wincing, shoving a hand over his suddenly very erect cock. The briefs were small…and he was abnormally large…large enough that the pierced tip was peeking out from the top band and he was doing his best to cover it.

He started mouthing something to himself while he stared at the ceiling. It kind of looked like he was chanting “grandpa balls” over and over again, but that didn’t seem right.

I walked over to the set where he was standing, and he pulled his gaze to me again, the look on his face pained. “You’re killing me, sunshine,” he growled. He started chanting again, but this time I could hear him.

He was indeed chanting “grandpa balls.”

I giggled and his whole face softened.

“You want to explain what you’re doing here?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

A throat cleared from nearby before Ari could answer. It was the art director for Renage, Élise Martin, a world-renowned figure in the industry. Her gaze flicked toward Ari and me, dipping down to the “pierced presence” in Ari’s briefs that was just starting to go down. A faint blush crept across her cheeks, a testament to the undeniable charisma that Ari radiated…because nothing affected Élise Martin.

Flustered but trying to maintain her professionalism she choked out, ‘Alright, everyone, let’s get started. This shoot is going to take us all day, so let’s make the most of it.’

‘You’re so fucking beautiful…and all mine,’ he whispered in my ear as we followed Élise to the set, his words a balm to the jealousy that had been simmering in my spine. The possessiveness in his tone was undeniable, and it filled me with a heady mix of desire and reassurance.

The theme for the shoot had an edgier twist, titled ‘Sultry Rebellion.’ The set was supposed to exude a dark and mysterious atmosphere, with elements of unconventional sensuality.

The backdrop was made of distressed, exposed brick walls covered in graffiti, giving the set an urban, underground vibe. Dim, moody lighting cast intriguing shadows, emphasizing the edgy ambiance.

Rather than traditional furniture, the set featured industrial props like steel chains, leather-bound cuffs, and vintage motorcycles, adding an element of raw sexuality and rebellion.

My cheeks blushed when I saw Ari staring at the cuffs, naughty thoughts obviously in his head.

They were in mine too.

Élise called for more body oil for Ari, and I bit down on my lip hard, trying to edge off the jealousy as the eager employee rushed towards us, holding out the oil like it was the holy grail.

“Blake can apply it,” said Ari firmly.

Élise opened her mouth to argue, her gaze darting between us, confused. She finally seemed to get we were…something, and changing Ari’s mind was probably a lost cause, because she shook her head and stalked over to where the photographer’s crew was gathered, discussing something on the screens in front of them.

I took the bottle from the very disappointed employee and, with shaking hands, smoothed the glistening oil over Ari’s sculpted body. I rubbed my hands across the hard surface of his chest, fascinated as usual by all of the tattoos inked across his skin. Ari was erect again, staring at me in what looked like awed fascination. There was the click of a camera from somewhere but I was too caught up in what we were doing to see what was going on.

“I’m obsessed with everything about you,” he growled under his breath, as I rubbed my palm down his abs…just for good measure.

“Same,” I responded, the word rushing out quickly.

We reluctantly got to work then, and even with Ari…my self-consciousness began to claw its way to the surface like a relentless beast. Élise and the photographer’s growing frustration only intensified my unease, their impatient commands slicing through me like a knife.

I couldn’t do anything right. Every look was wrong.

“Let’s take a break,” Ari finally said after I’d been snapped at for the millionth time. There was a dark growl in his voice that broached no argument. Without waiting to see if anyone agreed with his suggestion…order, he dragged me into the dressing room, locking the door behind us.

His concern was evident in the depths of his eyes as he turned to face me.

‘What’s wrong, sunshine?’ His voice was gentle, a soothing balm to my frayed nerves as he smoothed fingers down my cheek. But as if summoned by the mere question, a tear slipped down my skin as I leaned into his hand.

I took a shaky breath, trying to steady the tremors that ran through me. The words caught in my throat, as if they were too heavy to be set free.

I sniffled, struggling to find the words to convey the storm of emotions raging inside me. ‘I…I just feel so ugly. Something’s wrong with me,’ I finally admitted, the confession escaping me like a whispered secret.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I hastily wiped them away with the back of my hand. It was absurd, really, to be reduced to this—sobbing in a dressing room, overwhelmed by my own fucked up head. But I’d had years of my confidence being eroded, torn at until I was the nothing that Maura had preferred.

It was hard to overcome a million you’re not enoughs.

“Oh baby,” he said with a pained groan, touching my lips with the most exquisitely soft kiss I could have ever imagined.

Ari’s intense green-eyed gaze bore into me, so many emotions flickering within their depths. I was mesmerized by what I saw there. It almost seemed like Ari Lancaster…

Could have loved me.

His lips closed over mine again, his tongue tangling sensually with mine, a bite of hunger to every lick and caress.

Warmth spread through my chest, my nipples budding against the smooth lace of the barely there bra I was wearing.

“Somehow I’m going to get you to see what I see,” he murmured before glancing around the room. His gaze stopped on a full length mirror leaning against the wall. “Come here, sunshine.”

He grabbed a chair and pulled me with him to the mirror, settling us in the chair in front of it so we were both facing it.

Ari’s rough hands smoothed up my legs, plucking at the black garters on my thighs. “I see you and I lose my breath,” he whispered in a graveled husk.

Ari’s touch was a delicate caress against my skin, his fingers tracing the contours of my body with a reverence that left me breathless. With each brush of his hand, he whispered sweet words that danced in my ears, painting me with desire and affection.

His lips pressed tenderly against my forehead, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses. “I love your eyes,” he murmured, his voice a velvety whisper that made me ache. “The first time I saw them as a kid, I knew I’d found magic. I’ve spent every moment since then searching for them in every crowd.”

His fingers trailed down my cheek, his touch feather-light and electrifying. ‘Your lips,’ he continued, his voice husky with desire, ‘are my undoing. The way they taste, the way they mold against mine-it’s a temptation I can never resist.’

Ari’s lips captured mine in a searing kiss that ignited a fire I swore stretched into my soul. When he pulled away, his eyes burned with a hunger that matched my own. ‘Your neck…’ he sighed, his breath hot against my skin, ‘every time I kiss it, I can feel your pulse quicken; it’s how I know you’re just as deep in this as I am.’

Ari’s mouth moved with purpose, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin of my neck, sending waves of pleasure radiating through me. I arched into his touch, my fingers tangling in his hair as I gave in to the exquisite sensations.

His fingers pushed down my bra so my breasts jutted out, massaging and kneading them before he leaned down and gently sucked and lapped on one of my nipples, while his free hand cupped my other breast. His teeth brushed against my sensitive skin and I came, just like that, an orgasm softly sliding through my body.

He feasted on me for a few more lusty pulls before he pulled away. ‘Your breasts…your fucking breasts,’ he whispered, his voice filled with adoration, ‘are the embodiment of temptation. They fit perfectly in my hands, and the way you respond to my touch–it could kill me.’

Ari gripped my chin and made me look at myself in the mirror, as his other hand continued its journey, tracing the contours of my waist and hips. I love your hips, the smoothness of your belly,’ he purred. ‘They would’ve worshiped you in every age. You’re like a siren come to life.’ I couldn’t stop staring at his reaction in the mirror, so much hunger, adoration…so much love…for my body.

A soft sob slipped from my mouth as his hands stroked over every one of my insecurities.

Ari’s touch trailed lower, his fingers teasingly grazing my thighs, before his fingers slipped under the edge of my panties and glided through my folds. “This pussy is my heaven,” he whispered. “I’d do anything to have it. Anything.” His finger slipped into my core, pumping a few times roughly before it slid down to my ass.

My head tipped back and I closed my eyes at the sensation, but he grabbed my chin again, forcing me to keep looking at the mirror.

“I have wet dreams about this ass. I think about it constantly. I can’t wait to fuck it,” he murmured, as he teased my asshole through the lace of my lingerie. I whimpered. I’d never been taken there by Clark, but I wanted Ari everywhere, in as many places as he wanted to take me.

“I’m hard for you every fucking second of every fucking day. I’m obsessed with you, crazy over you in fact. I can’t stand to be apart from you for any length of time. So when you tell me you hate this perfect fucking body that I worship with every part of my fucking soul…well, we can’t have that, sunshine.”

I couldn’t help it, my hips began to move over his hard cock, my hands wrapping around his neck behind me, painting an obscene picture in the mirror.

He thrust up and I mewled, desperate for him to fill me.

Maybe a better girl would have cared that people were just outside…probably knowing exactly what we were doing. But all I cared about was getting Ari Lancaster inside me as much and as fast as possible.

Ari’s hands had moved back to my breasts, giving them another squeeze. “Fuck, I love these.” He bit gently down on that sensitive space between my neck and my shoulder, licking away the slight bite of pain.

“Look at how wet you are, sweetheart. We’re going to go back out there, and these panties are going to be drenched. And everyone is going to know that I got to fuck you. They’re going to be so jealous.”

I immediately went to scoff at what he’d said, but he sounded so confident, so sure, and the ugly voice inside of me was less sure of itself as a result.

“I want you to watch yourself in the mirror, sunshine. Watch yourself get fucked by my big cock. Watch what you do to me…how you own me,” he growled, reaching down and shoving my underwear to the side before he impaled me on his hard dick.

My head fell back against his chest, gasping for breath because I was so fucking full.

It felt amazing. Like if I could just keep him inside of me, I wouldn’t have any room for anything else.

“Watch yourself,” Ari ordered in a strained voice, and my gaze snapped to the mirror, watching as his cock stretched me, his sack shiny with my essence and his cum. He pulled out, his decadent piercing displayed before he surged back in.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” I breathed, and he chuckled, reaching between my legs to rub on my clit. Every thrust found that perfect spot inside me.

“I’m going to take a picture of this, baby, of your sweet pussy swallowing my dick. Every time you start to doubt yourself, I’ll show it to you. I’ll show you how perfect you are to me. How sexy…how gorgeous…how good you take me. How this pussy was meant just for me.” He thrust up into me again.

“Play with those perfect tits, sunshine. Make that perfect body feel good,” he ordered roughly.

My hands immediately went to my breasts, playing with my tips while he grabbed my hips and started bouncing me on his cock.

“Look at you. Fucking look at you,” he said thickly.

And I did look at myself, watched my pussy spread open by his thick long cock, the way his fingers dug into my hips, the way my breasts bounced with every thrust…the rosy blush to my cheeks, the gleam in my eyes.

Right now, I really was beautiful.

“I’m going to keep you forever. Fuck this pussy every day. I own you, Blake. Say it. Say you belong to me.” One of his hands slid up between my breasts until it was stretched across my neck, holding it as he thrust into me. Ari squeezed gently.

“You. Are. Mine,” he growled. “Now say it.”

“I’m yours,” I panted in a choked voice.

“My fucking perfect good girl,” he murmured thickly as he started fucking me, harder…rougher.

“Say it. Say you’re a good girl.”

“I’m a good girl,” I immediately gasped as another orgasm hit me. I was gushing, drenching his cock.

“Now say you’re perfect,” he commanded softly, his movements slowing so that every ridge of his piercing rubbed against my skin.

My mouth opened, but it was hard for those words to come out. His hand squeezed my neck a little more and I gasped. “Say it, baby. Tell yourself the fucking truth.” His cock was glistening and dripping with me. His eyes were locked on me. He was obsessed with me.

Maybe I was perfect…at least in this moment.

“I’m perfect,” I breathed, the words feeling like a balm on the cuts all over my heart.

He buried his face in my neck and breathed deeply, his thrusts stopping for a moment as his body shuddered, like my words had magic powers.

All of a sudden, he thrust in. Hard.

“That’s my good…fucking…girl,” he breathed as he hammered into me. “Now reach down and touch that wetness. I want to taste it. It’s my favorite thing.”

I brushed my trembling fingers across his soaking wet cock and then brought them to his mouth. He moaned as he sucked on my fingers…like it really was his favorite taste.

“I’m going to come. Going to come so hard,” he breathed. “Come with me, baby. Please.” His voice was a ragged plea as his movements became erratic. He feverishly rubbed my clit while his other hand gripped my neck just a little bit tighter.

And that was it, I went off like a rocket, the edges of my vision blurring…the world rearranging right in front of me.

His whole body shuddered behind me, and the accompanying groan out of his mouth was the most erotic thing I’d ever experienced.

A few soft thrusts later and he came to a stop, and we both watched as his cum dripped out of me.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” I breathed.

A few minutes later, there was a hesitant knock on the door. “Um, Mr. Lancaster, Ms. Shepfield…do you think we could get started? If you’re, umm, if you’re ready,” one of the assistants called through the door.

Ari’s body started shaking with laughter, and a moment later, I was giggling too…I felt a bit high at the moment. Well aware that maybe laughter wasn’t the best fit for the career suicide I most likely had just accomplished.

Ari slid out of me and I whimpered. “I know, baby. Me too,” he breathed, like he missed our connection as well.

He helped me off his lap and my legs felt weak as I unsteadily walked over to the makeup counter and grabbed some wipes to clean myself up. Glancing in the mirror, my makeup was a bit smudged, my curls were looser, and there was a flush to my whole body.

And like Ari’s cum had magical properties…I’d never felt hotter.

We walked out of the dressing room hand in hand, staff giving us knowing looks.

“Ready?” Élise asked exasperatedly when we came into view.

“Ready, Freddie,” Ari quipped back as we stepped onto the set.

Élise shook her head and started to bark directions at us. But it was a funny thing…the longer the shoot went on, the more excited she became.

“Yes! Just like that. Blake, that’s perfect,” she shouted at one point, and Ari gave me a knowing, “I told you so” look.

For the rest of the shoot, I was more relaxed than I’d ever been.

And for the rest of the day, I managed to feel something I hadn’t on every other day of my life.

I felt perfect.