Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“I wasn’t, but now I am.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been thinking about kissing me all day. I can tell.” There’s the Jordan I’ve come to know. “Don’t worry. Kissing me isn’t just kissing. It’s a life experience.”
“Sure it is. Keep telling yourself that.”
“My lips are like magic.” Jordan’s voice has a soft rasp to it. Tingles break out across my skin, and I think back to the club. Jordan pressed against me, the other guy’s tongue in my mouth … I really should’ve asked for his name.
But if some random in a bar can turn my acting around, I can’t help wondering what kissing Jordan could do for it.
“All the straight guys want to suck my dick after kissing me.”
That’s actually … pretty believable, even if it’s conceited.
I look up into Jordan’s eyes and swallow hard. “I have to say, if a straight guy would rather suck your dick than kiss you, I don’t think your lips can be too magical.”
Jordan throws back his head and laughs so hard he can barely catch his breath. “You’re savage.”
I bow. “I do what I can.”
“I love it.”
“We’re ready,” Ben barks across the set at us.
If I felt like I had any right to intervene in Jordan’s life, I’d tell him to leave Ben because I’ve seen nothing but control coming from him, but that could also be that he’s my boss, and the director, so I guess that’s in his nature.
I keep my mouth shut, though. I don’t want to be that friend—the one who thinks they know better. I just have to hope Ben’s not a cheating asshole, not only for Jordan’s sake, who I’m quickly coming to care about as a friend, but for the movie’s sake as well.
Ben’s the type of person that I’ve seen a million times in this industry. They’re the ones who make a name for themselves and let it all go to their head.
Our management team for Eleven might have been totalitarian, but they never let fame get to our heads. Sure, Harley could sometimes be a diva, but we learned early that you don’t become famous on your own. You need a team of people to help get you there, and if you treat them like shit, your time at the top will be short-lived.
It’s a lesson I’ve always tried to remember. It’s why I don’t snap at assistants or make demands. I know never to become complacent in this industry.
“Today!” Ben yells.
If there’s any consolation to this scene, it’s that I get to kiss Jordan and watch Ben’s reaction. Petty, maybe, but I really don’t like him.
The set is arranged like a hotel room, with dim lighting beside a big queen bed.
I really wish the script called for Jordan to be getting the blowjob instead of me because I’ve never had to shoot a sex scene before. Not like this.
In my action movies, I get to kiss the girl at the end. One of them had me banging a chick in a bathroom, but we were both fully clothed for the scene. There were no close-ups. No shooting my fake O face.
Maybe I should’ve practiced in a mirror.
This is the last scene we have to shoot today, and I just want to get it done.
All I have to do is stumble into the “hotel room,” let Jordan undo the buttons on my shirt, lean in, and kiss him. Get pushed down on the bed, run my hand through his hair while he moves down my body and out of shot, and then simulate the reaction to getting the best blowjob of my life. See. Easy.
I take a deep breath as we take our positions and wait for Ben to call action.
Jordan must find my nerves amusing because he won’t stop smiling at me. “You look so nervous you could puke. You’re not going to, are you? I don’t think I can kiss you if I’m standing six feet away so you don’t vomit on me.”
“Not at all.”
“Action.”
Fuck.
The script calls for me to open the door, but Jordan must see the freak-out in my eyes because he opens the door for me and gives me a smug look that actually helps settle my nerves. Because I want to show him that kissing him doesn’t affect me. I’m more worried about looking stupid on camera than anything else.
I grip the lapels of his jacket and push him inside the hotel room and kick the door behind me.
The whole set rattles with the slam of the door, and we both flinch.
“Cut!” Ben calls. “Run it again.”
Great start, Blake. Good job.
This time we get as far as the bed, but Jordan steps on my toe when we try to press against each other.
I can feel the crew’s frustration, but Jordan and I can’t help laughing at ourselves.
“Can we be any more uncoordinated?” Jordan asks.