Stage Left (Bright Lights Billionaire #1) by Ali Parker Read Free Book Online

little more. She barely had a third of me inside of her, and I was shaking with the need to impale her.
    "Take more then." I pulled her back as she groaned again and reached back, making me stop. The lack of movement was killing me. Fucking was starting to be the last thing on my mind. It never turned out the way I needed it to.
    The phone buzzed next to me as she panted and pushed back a little more.
    I moaned and let my head hit the pillow. "Just lift up and fuck the tip, baby. I gotta get to the studio."
    "No. I want more. I can do it. You're just really big." She pushed back and stopped again as her arms started to shake.
    I picked up my phone and barked into it. "What?"
    "Stop being a dick and get up here. You're up in an hour with our first audition and yet you're nowhere to be found. I know as well as you do that you didn't go over these lines." Deza sounded about as happy as I felt.
    "All right. Give me fifteen minutes. I'm in my trailer."
    "Out back?" She pulled the door open to the trailer and screamed into the phone, deafening me for a minute.
    The girl hovering above me scrambled for the covers and pulled off my cock, leaving me about as fulfilled as I was before finding her.
    "Was that your girlfriend?" She glared at me.
    "No. That was my agent. Get off of me. I have to go." I waited until she moved to get out of the bed, and pulled on my slacks. There was no concern with sporting a hard-on as my dick was dropping like a scalded puppy.
    "Ethan. I want to try again. I'm just not very-"
    "Experienced. I get it." I turned and offered her a smile, not feeling any bit of the kindness I was faking. "It's all good. I'll call you sometime when I get a break. We'll try again."
    "You promise?" She looked so good in my sheets, and yet this was goodbye. She couldn't match me in the bedroom, which wasn't at all a surprise. I grabbed a shirt and pulled it over my head, combed my hair and looked back at her.
    "I'll call." I grabbed my shoes and walked out of the trailer. The guard beside it glanced over and lifted his eyebrows. "Give her five minutes and kick her out. I don't want someone snooping through my shit."
    "Yes, sir." He opened the door, and I grabbed his shirt.
    "Five minutes. She's naked." I released him and growled before jogging toward the set.
    Deza turned from the snack table and shook her head. "Really? You have a house. What the fuck? Why do I always have to walk in and see that monster you're sporting?"
    "It's the curse of your good fortune?" I shrugged and dropped down in a random chair and pulled my shoes on.
    "You don't need those. The scene has you only in a pair of slacks." She popped some Skittles in her mouth. "You need a cup in case you get excited?"
    "No. I stopped getting excited about this a long time ago."
    "Not the scene, the women." She rolled her shoulders and lifted her hands in the air, stretching.
    "I'm not interested in them either." I finished putting my shoes on just to annoy her.
    She growled softly and tossed me a packet of peanut M&Ms. "Even Riley?"
    "Oh shit. Is she coming?" I stood up as my body tightened automatically. What was it with this girl? Hopefully she was a total sponge personality-wise, or I was in trouble.
    "Yes. She's third on the list. Come on, handsome. Let's get through these first few and then your princess will arrive." Deza laughed at me before reaching over to ruffle my hair.
    I swatted her away and ruffled hers before jogging toward the set. It was funny how everyone in America thought I was a sex god of some sort. I hadn’t really had a good lay in months. I was just picking the wrong women. Virgins, prudes, girls with class. I needed a slut to take me the right way. She could fit me. I needed to call one of the women from my past. The girls that showed up for the night, did their job and left without a word or whimper.
    There goes the idea of Riley. That girl looks like a virgin librarian.
    My pulse increased as the idea of pressing her against a wall and