A-List F*ck Club: Part 4 Read online

  “Don’t make me wait, Cal,” she begs. “Don’t be a dick tease.”

  I grin. “You don’t know what that means, and I sure as hell hope you never find out, sugar.” I come then, not wanting to make my baby wait. She grips my ass cheeks hard as I come all over her big round titties, her mouth wide open, lapping up all my cream like a good girl.

  “Don’t stop,” she moans. “Fuck me again.”

  I shake my head, wiping my come off her lips, leaning down to kiss her like she deserves. Hard and deep and forever. “I’ll fuck you as long as you need.”

  “I need it now. I’ll need it later too, but my pussy wants you so bad, Cal.”

  I move my fingers back to her sweet spot, feeling how wet she is. I press two fingers deep inside her, where I finger fucked her hard earlier. Damn, she does need more.

  And when she starts licking my cock up and down, getting it hard as a rock, I know I need more too.

  “I fucking love you, Jules,” I tell her.

  She closes her eyes, wrapping her hand around my cock. “I love you too, Levi Callahan. So much it hurts.”

  “Let me take away all of your pain,” I whisper, kissing her again, my fingers rubbing circles over her hood, right where she needs it.

  She blushes, wrapping her legs around my body as I fill my baby up. Her arms are around my neck, and I lower myself to her, our bodies one.

  I love that when we explore one another’s bodies, we learn more about ourselves.

  She’s learning that her pussy is so perfect she could be a goddamn porn star, and I’m learning that I could eat my girl out every day of my fucking life.

  “I love you, Jules,” I tell her, filling her up and rocking against her gently.

  “Whatever comes next,” she tells me, “I have your back.”

  Her words are a fucking gift I will never tire of.

  Jules is my forever, and I will never make her question that again.

  3

  The next Monday Danny calls Gretchen, Collette, and me into a meeting. In the elevator, on the way to his floor, we can’t stop talking about the fact that the Sports Illustrated magazine hit shelves today.

  “You both look phenomenal in it,” Collette says. Her attitude is really something else. She could have become jaded or bitter over losing this spread, but instead of making this about her—she has been beaming over our photographs all day.

  When we get to Danny’s office, he has champagne for us, and he gives us hugs as he offers us his congratulations.

  “All three of you have really made a place for yourselves in this city in just a month.”

  “I’m sorry if I let you down,” Collette says. We each hold flutes of champagne and click glasses.

  Danny shushes her. “Not a word. You did nothing wrong. It’s the people who did this to you who should pay.”

  “It would help if we knew who that was,” Gretchen says, downing her glass in one swig.

  I lower my gaze, knowing Cal’s plans this week to meet with Exposé and tell his story. Doing so is going to change his life forever, but it will also put him in control of his life. It will let him take the wheel and drive his story in the way he wants. The Fuck Club hasn’t reopened, and even though he hasn’t quite figured out what he wants to happen to the place, he is determined to do something good with the property.

  I’m so proud of him, though of course I just want to tell everyone about who he really is, but I know it isn’t my place. It’s Cal’s story to share, and soon enough everyone will know it. And whether or not the person who was selling photos gets caught—at least no one will have any questions about the Fuck Club’s role in Sawyer’s death.

  “You have really lit up this town, and the fact I was able to sign all of you in the same month feels like I landed the luckiest break in the world.”

  I nod, and can’t help but think that even though the last month has been harder than I expected, there has been a lot of good from it too. I don’t have all the money I need for the farm, but I’ve made a dent in the bills.

  Danny grins and reaches for three envelopes on his desk. “These are for each of you.”

  “What is it?” Gretchen asks reaching for hers eagerly.

  “What in the world?” I say, pulling the check from my envelope. Collette whistles as she looks at hers.

  “Bonuses,” Danny says, holding up his hands to explain. “I know the paychecks were lower than you initially hoped, but I hope these make up for it.”

  The checks are for twenty thousand dollars. “I don’t know what to say,” I whisper. This is going to really help with Dad’s debts.

  “Don’t say anything. It is the least I can do for the way you three have gone above and beyond for me this month. And I have another surprise, “ he says.

  “What?” Collette asks, her eyes lit with happiness.

  “I got you tickets to the premier of the new Jezebel movie tonight.”

  “Jezebel?” My heart sinks. “Isn’t that Sawyer Bennett’s new film?”

  Danny nods. “I promised Exposé you’d be there. And I have tickets for each of you to bring a date.”

  I shake my head, unable to swallow my emotions. “I don’t think I can go, I mean... Sawyer just died and it’s gonna be really hard to watch that.”

  “Sorry, darlin’, but you’ve got to go if you want that check,” he laughs.

  “Are you serious?” I ask. “You’ll cancel the check if I don’t go?”

  “Aww, no, I know you wouldn’t let your old Danny Bruneau down.”

  Gretchen reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “We will be with you. And maybe Cal will want to go. It might be good for him, actually.”

  Danny speaks up, “It might be. They are doing a whole tribute to Sawyer at the premiere. His parents will even be there.”

  “Oh, really?” I ask, feeling slightly better. Maybe it just felt callous, when actually it’s going to be a really meaningful and tasteful event.

  “See,” Collette says. “It’s going to be good. You should totally invite Cal. Although, if he and Sawyer were best friends, don’t you think he already has an invite?”

  “He didn’t mention it, but of course I’ll ask him.”

  “Great, ladies. Once again, you are going to be a smashing success.”

  Cal had been invited but had declined the invite.

  “It’s fine,” I tell him over the phone. My roommates and I are in an Uber headed back to our apartment.

  “Look, I don’t want you to go to your first red carpet event alone,” he tells me. “I want to be there with you. But I think it’s kinda strange Sawyer’s parents wopuld even go.”

  “I know,” I tell him. “It’s so soon.”

  “It might sound crass, but they’ve always seemed to like the spot light more than necessary.”

  “Ouch,” I say. “Kind of a cold assessment, isn’t it?”

  “I know,” Cal sighs. “I sound like an ass. I’m sure they are going with good intentions.”

  “Look,” I tell him. “I’ll be fine, you don’t have to be with me to make sure I’m safe.”

  “I’d feel a lot better if you weren’t alone.”

  “I won’t be alone. And honestly, I don’t have to go.”

  “I thought you said there was twenty grand on the line?”

  “There is,” I say, already having cashed the check in my mind. “But I bet Danny would let me keep it if I asked very nicely.”

  “You shouldn’t owe anyone anything in this town. And look, I can do this for you. Besides, Sawyer’s parents will be happy to have the support, I’m sure of it.”

  “If you’re sure,” I say, slowly.

  “I’m sure. Now I need to go find a tux. Haven’t worn one in years.”

  “I love you, Callahan.”

  “I love you more, Jules.”

  When I hang up, my friends tease me relentlessly for having fallen so hard, so fast.

  I don’t mind their teasing, not for a second.

&nbs
p; “So, what are we going to wear?” I ask them.

  Gretchen grins. “Something tight and gorgeous.”

  “And something expensive. Because we just got a hella big bonus,” Collette squeals.

  We laugh and tell the driver to turn around, headed to Rodeo Drive.

  I may not buy something as ‘designer’ as my roommates, but I will do what my dad and grandma insisted—appreciate this time in LA for what it is.

  In the limo, Cal squeezes my hand. We decided to arrive on our own, separate from my roommates, who are going with Danny. This is a big moment for Cal, and while no one is going to recognize him as the son of the Mallones, it will still be the first time he has been in front of cameras since his parents died.

  His fingers run up my thigh. “You look insane in this dress, Jules,” he tells me. I found a vintage Dior, and the shop offered to lend it to me if I agreed to mention them on the red carpet. It is soft blue, strapless, and fitted to my knees. With black stilettos, I feel classy. “Oh, take a photo of me to send to Grandma,” I tell Cal. He takes my phone and snaps a quick picture.

  “Looks like they knew you were talking about them,” Cal says handing me back my phone. My dad has texted.

  “He loves his new smartphone.” I send the picture to my dad and pull up the text. Before I can read it, though, the door to the car is opened by the valet. “Oh, crap, we’re here,” I say, stuffing the phone into my sequined purse. Looking at Cal, wanting him to have my undivided attention tonight, I smile. “We’re going to do great.”

  “Yeah, we are,” he says, holding my hand as we step out of the limo. “We’ve got one another.”

  I turn, blinking hard, as my eyes fill with flashing lights as the press document every step we take down the red carpet. Cal laces his fingers through mine.

  “And later,” I whisper in his ear between poses for the camera. “You get all of me.”

  “Is that a promise?” he asks.

  “It’s a guarantee.” I laugh. “Now, be good arm candy and smile like you mean it.”

  He looks at me, shaking his head. “Girl, when I’m with you, I do mean it. You can’t fake real.”

  “Are you always going to be so cheesy?”

  “It’s not cheesy when you mean it.” He kisses my cheek. “Now stop giving me a toothache.”

  I frown. “And how am I doing that?”

  “You’re just so damn sweet.”

  I swat him with my purse, shaking my head, our laughter helping us forget the tension this moment could bring. We finished walking the carpet and are safely inside the theater doors.

  We got through it. We did. We can get through anything.

  But then we see Sondra standing with Sawyer’s parents and the fear I had about being here forms around me again like a cloud of dust.

  Cal’s fingers tighten around mine. “Fuck,” he mutters.

  I hold on to him, but I already feel his energy shift, his memories resurfacing.

  We shouldn’t have come.

  4

  When I was younger, I’d come with my parents to events like this. Everyone would stop and watch as my mom and dad walked down the red carpet. My mother would look like a Hollywood movie star from another era, my father, always right next to her, would watch her smile at the cameras with adoration in his eyes. I’d be beside them, looking at them with wonder, believing I was the luckiest boy in the entire world.

  Before we walked down the red carpet though, I remember being at home, watching my parents get ready for the evenings out. Mom would be in her dressing room, make-up artists fussing around her, stylists pinning up her hair—but she never seemed to notice any of that. She would catch my eye in the mirror, and smile at her only child. She’d mouth the words I love you, Levi—she only had eyes for me.

  And I knew she did love me. It grounded me, kept me stable in a world that could have easily got me all kinds of fucked up, especially as I got older.

  But my mom loved me, and my father loved me, and that was more than enough. Even as I got older, after they died, and I learned how to play as a bachelor, I still never let the excess get to my head. I had vacations all around the world, women when and where I wanted them—but it never caused me to think I was more than a man. I didn’t let it get to my head because I grew up watching my father remain loyal and devoted to my mother and me. I may be a bit of an ass, but I never became jaded, cruel, or entitled.

  Before the awards shows, after seeing my mom, I’d go look for my father. Instead of finding him already dressed in a tux as his assistant requested, I’d find him in the kitchen, leaning over the island with junk food and a grin. He’d wave away the housekeeper, Roselyn, who always told him to eat something healthy.

  My dad would offer me the bowl of chips, the leftover chicken wings, a can of Coke. He may have been named America’s Sexiest Man Alive five times, but he was one of those people who didn’t have to work for it. Both my parents—they were just naturally damn near perfect.

  I think that’s why the public loved them so much. Why the movies that they starred in together would become instant hits, why their photographs became so sought after.

  Why eventually, their fame killed them.

  They were famous in a way Brad and Angelina only dreamed about. Except my parents never dreamed of this.

  They just were. They were in the right place at the right time, they met when they were young, on their first movie set, both wanting to act and both having the talent to get cast in more and more roles as they fell more and more in love.

  And somehow, even though they became beloved public figures, at the end of the day, they were decent human beings.

  Better than decent, the goddamn greatest.

  And somehow I was lucky enough to be their son.

  All those memories flood back as I walk down the red carpet with Jules.

  And as I watch her work the crowd, I realize that in a lot of ways, Jules is just like my mother. I try not to get emotional as I clasp my hand around hers. As she poses for photographs, I lower my eyes to the ground, blinking back all those memories. Realizing that falling for Jules wasn’t unusual or out of character at all—she’s the exact kind of girl I’d always dreamt of finding.

  She’s like my mother in all the best ways. Beautiful, unassuming, genuine—and not at all looking for affirmation from strangers.

  No, Jules doesn’t need anything from the people on this red carpet, yet she freely gives them so much of herself.

  I know deep down that Jules was made for this sort of limelight, or at least, she’s the sort that deserves it. Because she’s not chasing anything when she stands here and smiles, while she blushes at the photographers’ kind words and thanks people graciously for their compliments.

  For all the shady people in this town, women like Jules make it almost seem worth it.

  But when I see Sondra standing with Sawyer’s parents, Sophia and Henry, a different emotion washes over me.

  Fuck. Why is she here? But of course, that question is ridiculous. Of course, she’s here. She starred in this movie alongside Sawyer.

  I’ve read snippets of articles over the last several weeks, Somehow, they allude to Sawyer having some sort of sex addiction which is why he was cheating on Sondra. It’s bullshit of course, but right now, the studio is doing everything they can to keep the image of Sondra and Sawyer unblemished before the release of the new film that the studio has already poured millions into. They can’t afford to lose anything now just because Sawyer hooked up with a supermodel.

  So, from the grave, my best friend has been diagnosed with a latent sex-addiction. It was apparently ignited when he met Gretchen. Fucking bullshit.

  My stomach turns though, realizing the model Sawyer hooked up with, Gretchen, is coming here tonight.

  Why? Why in God’s name would she be invited? My eyebrows crease as I try to make sense of this.

  Having her here is intentionally inviting drama to this premiere—I don’t get it.

 
; I look at Jules, needing to ask her what the fuck is going on, why Gretchen would come, who would even have given her an invitation.

  “I knew we shouldn’t have come,” Jules says. “I’m really sorry, Cal. We can go. I didn’t even think about the fact that Sondra would be here. I was so self-absorbed.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not her, what I’m wondering about is why Gretchen is here? Tomorrow’s headlines are going to be questioning why Sawyer’s hookup came to the premiere on the night he’s being honored in a memorial. Nothing about it makes sense, Jules.”

  Jules’ eyes widen, realizing the meaning of my words. “I didn’t even think of it this morning when we were at Danny’s office. Gretchen was just so happy to have the bonus and the tickets, but you’re right. This is weird.”

  “Where’s Danny?” I ask. “I need to talk to him, to understand what’s going on here. Gretchen shouldn’t have come. It’s awkward with his parents being here—they don’t need to deal with this.”

  Jules nods. “I was so caught up in how you would feel about being here I didn’t even think about his parents. But why would Gretchen even want to come?”

  “Everything you told me about her is that she goes wherever she can get good publicity. That’s it.”

  “After everything, I think she would have learned—”

  I cut Jules off. “Babe, that’s not the way the city works. At the end of the day, a headline is worth a hell of a lot.”

  “But isn’t your integrity worth something too?” Jules asks, and her words just solidify my belief in her.

  In our relationship.

  In our future.

  My parents would have fucking loved this woman.

  “I think it’s worth something, I think our integrity is worth a hell of a lot. But I’m not everybody. And neither are you, Jules.”

  “I want out of this city before it rips me apart,” she says, shaking her head. Her eyes are sad, and I wrap my arms around her just as Sondra, Sophia, and Henry see us and walk over.