11. Porn Stars

eleven

Porn Stars

Kaz

" W hy are you pacing a hole into our carpet?" Brennan asks, his mouth hitched up in a crooked grin he usually reserves only for me.

He's handsome and the love of my life. But he's dangerously close to being punched in the face. "Why aren't you? Aren't you nervous?"

The twatface is leaning back against the headboard; his muscular thighs spread apart, his entire body shouting 'relaxed'. He also isn't wrong. I've been a total dweeb about our date with Zelda tonight. In all fairness, though, it's a bit more than a date. After the miraculous matches in our lists, agreeing to do a scene was a no-brainer. It's time to see if we are compatible in every way.

Even though I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that we are compatible with Zelda, we still need to prove it to her. And anything can go wrong.

And dammit. What if Zelda changes her mind and runs back to her little cave, and we lose our chance with the most perfect girl in the world?

"I'm actually more worried about why you are so worked up," Brennan states, leaning forward and holding his hand out to me, a non-verbal invite to join him on our bed.

His observation makes me pause.

He's not wrong. I'm unflappable. I, Kaz, am super-hot—I'd be stupid not to know this— the personal trainer to some B-list celebs, and I do not get nervous over anything. Ever.

Except this girl.

"This is different." I respond with the only words that make sense. "She's different. She matters."

Brennan pats the bed again. "Come on, pookie-bum."

This time, I take him up on his invitation and crawl up to join him at the top of the bed. Curling up against him, I allow him to wrap his arm around my shoulders and pull me in for a cuddle.

"The last time I was this much of a wreck was before I asked you to marry me," I decide to tell him.

"You were not," he huffs out with a laugh, the shock clear in his tone.

"Was, too. I had to change my shirt twice because I sweated right through it. My stupid brain was convinced you'd laugh me out of the restaurant."

"We'd been living together for over a year," Brennan says, sounding more and more shocked the longer the conversation continues. "Surely you had to know I'd say yes."

I push at his abs and somehow get distracted by the defined muscle underneath the t-shirt. "Asshole. I knew no such thing. You'd made your disdain for monogamy known from the start of our relationship. On more than one occasion, you'd also made it clear that you were very happy with how things were going between us."

His fingers interlace with mine, and I look up into his striking face when he squeezes my hand.

Brennan isn't the classical movie-star handsome. His features are rugged and weathered. His face is a combination of perfect proportions and unique scars and marks.

Sometimes, I like to tease him that it was lust at first sight. Really, it was love.

"Of course, I was happy with how things were," he grouses. "You're fucking perfect, aren't you, you asshole? I'd have been an idiot not to take you up on that once-in-a-lifetime offer. The great Kaz wants to be my husband? Fuck yes."

Punching him in his rock-hard stomach, I push up and away from him so I can get a better vantage point. "Why haven't we ever talked about this?"

"Because you like to pretend you're perfect and nothing ever phases you?"

His observation, as always, hits the nail right on the head.

"You could pretend not to be such a fucking genius, sometimes you know," I accuse before leaning over and dropping a soft kiss on his lips. "Come, wiseass. It's time for us to pick up our girl and take her out on our first date."

Brennan's full laughter fills the room at my comment, and a grin slips across my face.

Zelda is waiting for us in her bedroom, down the hallway. Picking her up involves leaving the master suite and walking a few feet. However, we got all dressed up and demanded that she do the same.

"Yes, let's."

Fuck. This is going to be much more challenging than I'd ever pictured it to be.

We've been living across the walkway from Zelda for ages . Lusting after her for just as long. Slowly falling in love with the cute girl she is the entire time.

This is different, though.

Now she's ours. Or will be very soon.

She's also sitting across the table from us in a dress that's made to tempt a damn priest.

Lusty red. Wrapped tightly around every single curve. My fingers itch to explore. But we can't. Because apparently... it's frowned upon in public.

Those milky white globs of temptation nearly fall from the top of her dress, and her striking red hair is everywhere. I can picture my hands wrapping around those curls and grabbing them so I can guide her bold red lips around my cock.

A groan of lust and pure, unadulterated hunger slips from between my lips without my permission. Brennan snickers as he elbows me in the ribs.

"What's wrong?" the temptress herself asks, looking between us, completely oblivious.

"You look amazing," I say, for what might be the fiftieth time that evening.

An appealing blush rises up her face, and Zelda looks down at her hands. For someone who's into praise kink, she's not exactly used to getting compliments. It's a good thing Brennan and I will do our best to change that.

"That still doesn't tell me what's wrong," she says after a while.

"Oh, sexybutt. That's exactly what's wrong. You look amazing. Tasty. Edible. Absolutely mouth-watering."

Zelda stares at me, her eyes unblinking for a few seconds until she bends over double, peals of giggles coming from her.

"Oh my golly gosh! You guys are too much," she huffs between laughs, struggling for breath.

Brennan and I share a look, and I know he is thinking the exact same thing I am.

"Zelda," Brennan calls out once her laughter dies down. "Sweetums, don't you think you're sexy?"

Her eyes sparkle, filled with delight, as she leans forward, pushing those delectable globes up and out, and it takes all of my willpower not to stare at them.

"Of course, I know I'm sexy. Curves are in," Zelda responds, biting down on the bold red lip. "I'm laughing at the two of you. Have you listened to the way you two talk sometimes? It's like something from a bad eighties porno or my granny's bodice-rippers. '

An involuntary snort escapes my nose as Brennan lets out a groan.

"It's sexy," Brennan defends.

It takes immense effort to keep my face straight.

"It's goofy," Zelda returns.

"It's hot."

This time, Zelda outright laughs at Brennan again. "It's kooky."

Brennan opens his mouth to retort, but before he can get another word in, Zelda holds up her hand to stop him.

"It's sweet. Special. Unique. And I kind of like it. You two go ahead and pretend to be eighties porn stars. I'm kind of hoping to star in one of those pornos with you."

This time? This time, I didn't snort.

I choked. On my own fucking spit.