I, Porn Star (I #1) by Zara Cox Read Free Book Online

the
futility of my situation, a
part of me desperately channels that hope.
    Eventually, my
body and mind let go of the perpetual fear long enough for me to fall asleep.
    I jerk awake
somewhere around two a.m., heart hammering. The glaring lightbulb blinds me for
a few seconds before my eyesight adjusts. I raise the picture from my chest and
stare at my mother’s face, wondering if my fate will echo hers and we’ll both
perish at the hands of Clayton Getty.
    As my fingers
glide over the glass, another face slides into my mind.
    Quinn Blackwood.
    There’s no room
in my life to ponder other people’s shit, but I find myself intrigued all the
same.
    His body.
    His deathly
stillness.
    His mouth.
    His unwavering
focus on the view.
    His soulless
eyes…
    My breath
catches. Mild shock engulfs me as I set the picture aside to watch my nipples
peak beneath the T-shirt I wore to bed. I’m semi-fascinated by my body’s
reaction. Enough to jerk upright in bed seconds later when I feel a distinct
tingle between my thighs.
    What
the fuck is wrong with you, Lucky?
    He’s hot,
granted. But he’s clearly fucked up in that special way only rich, powerful
people can be, despite having the world at their feet. Fantasizing about Quinn
Blackwood will bring me nowhere near finding a way to get Clayton off my back.
    In a last-ditch
act of desperation, I grab my phone, take a deep breath and turn it on.
    My heart leaps
into my throat when the mail sign pops onto the screen. Fingers shaking, I
press it.
    Monday.
6pm. Midtown. Be punctual .

5

 
    THE SCOUT

 
    She walks in at
6pm on Monday.
    I watch her
through the monitors, and finally admit to myself what I’ve shrugged off all
weekend. The unexpected twist of her turning up at Blackwood Tower has turned
the tide in her favor.
    Lucky. Elly. And
whatever the hell other names she has tucked beneath that cheap uniform and
velvety skin, has managed to achieve the impossible; she piqued my interest for
a second time.
    There’s a
deliciousness in knowing she could be serving me by day without knowing I’d be
fucking her by night. That unanticipated morsel has elevated my mood from
deadly lethargy to mere languor since Friday.
    Well, that and
keeping Maxwell twisting in the wind.
    Avoiding Maxwell
won’t last, of course. He won’t let it. He’s never been great with being
ignored. And after almost a week of unanswered summons, it’s only a matter of
time before that particular bough breaks. Languor fades, and I imagine I can
feel something .
    The intercom next
to my elbow buzzes from the team I have waiting next door. “She’s here. Shall I
take her in and explain the procedure to her?” Fionnella Smith, the team leader
asks.
    “Not yet. I want
to talk to her for a minute. I’ll send her out when I’m done.”
    “Okay.”
    I slide my voice
distorter into place and wait.
    She’s shown into
the room five minutes later. She pauses at the door. Her eyes warily assess the
room, her body poised with more than a hint of self-protection. Intrigue
heightens.
    She’s scared of
something. Or someone .
    The urge to
bloody myself with her secrets escalates.
    I cross my legs
and wait for her to enter. When she doesn’t, I speak, “It’s good to see you
again. Come in, Lucky. No one’s going to bite you today.”
    The provocative
words achieve the desired results. She steps in and shuts the door behind her,
while one eyebrow spikes. “No one’s going to bite me any day .”
    “Is that your
definitive view on the subject of biting?”
    She drops her
tiny backpack and pulls out the chair in front of the camera, a frown crawling
over her exquisite features. “Do I get docked points if I say no?”
    “This isn’t a
game show, Lucky. I merely want to assess your boundaries. I bite sometimes
when I fuck. Will that be a problem?”
    Heat engulfs her
face, and her fingers drum on the table before rising to curl around the ends
of her ponytail. One shoulder lifts. “I’m okay with it, I