Mike Harwood started his day as he did any other: balls-deep in another man.

A sweaty, gorgeous man who was currently moaning like Mike was trying to kill him with his dick.

“Oh God,” the man groaned. He threw his dark head back in an exaggerated way. “Yes, Sean, right there. Fuck me just like that.”

Mike wanted to grimace at the cheesy dialogue, but he kept his face frozen in the expression of bliss he’d had for the past twenty minutes. A camera flash went off to his left, and he had to blink away spots. Fucking photographers. It was hard enough to concentrate on what he was doing—or who, in this case—without them buzzing around. Especially when his costar brought so much ham to the scene, he wouldn’t need to eat for a week.

What was the guy’s name again? Dante? Damian? Something like that. Not that it mattered. The names around here were as fake as Hollywood itself. All that ecstatic mewling was starting to throw Mike off, along with the way the guy kept bucking his hips up on the offbeat.

Good thing Mike—or Sean Hardwood, as he was known to the porn world—was a seasoned vet. He’d starred in dozens of films, and the one he was making right now wouldn’t be so much as a blip on the radar. Thank God. He had a reputation to think of.

But hey, money was money. Sex was sex. Though he had to admit, having men moan his fake name instead of his real one didn’t have quite the same charm.

“Cut!” called a woman’s voice to the left.

Mike paused mid-thrust and stilled. He yearned to pull out, and the guy beneath him was squirming with discomfort, but they’d need to pick back up in the same spot when filming resumed. “What’s up, Colette?”

The blonde woman in jeans and a pink crop top eyed him from behind the main camera. “Any particular reason why you started sucking all of a sudden?”

Balancing his weight on one arm, Mike wiped his sweaty brow. “Sorry. I lost focus.” He didn’t bother making excuses. He’d been working with Colette long enough to know she wouldn’t buy what he was selling. Normally, all he had to do was smile pretty and flex to get what he wanted, but Colette was too sharp for that. People didn’t build successful empires like Murmur Inc. by being naïve, and she could smell bullshit from here to Santa Monica.

“I can’t say I blame you for getting kicked out of the moment.” She shifted her keen gaze to the other man. “Your costar was doing a decent impression of an overeager actor with one line. Diego, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Diego. That was it.

Diego grinned lazily and wriggled beneath Mike, making the mattress squeak. “Would you believe I was having that good of a time?”

Mike rolled his eyes and glanced at Colette in time to see her do the same. “Not with that acting, I wouldn’t. Tone it down, please? We have quality standards to maintain. We’re not just producing porn here.” She gestured to the half-dozen crew members that were all crammed in the bedroom with them: sound and light techs, a camera operator, and of course, the photographers. “We’re selling a fantasy. And for fantasies to work, they need to be believable. Good sex can be subtle too, okay?”

“Whatever you say, mami.”

Colette looked like she wanted to lecture him some more, but she refrained. They were on a schedule, and time was money. Mike hadn’t met the owners of the house they were filming in, but since it was in Bel Air, it couldn’t have been cheap for Colette to book it. No doubt she wanted to get everyone in and out.

Nice choice of phrasing, Harwood.

“On your marks, gentlemen.” She signaled to the camera operator and the photographers. When they gestured back, indicating that they were ready, she called, “Action!”

Mike resumed thrusting into Diego with the same enthusiasm as before but more concentration. He rolled and flexed his torso so every well-cut muscle in his abdomen got a chance to shine. That was, after all, what the viewers were here to see.

Diego let out another groan, but it was more controlled this time. Colette must have been satisfied, because she didn’t call for them to cut again. In fact, this time, they made it all the way to the “big finish” without incident. Mike pulled out, removed the condom, and came on Diego’s chest as directed. His orgasm wasn’t bad, in a perfunctory sort of way, but he could have done without Diego running his fingers through the semen and moaning like it somehow gave him pleasure. He knew people who were into come play, but that was a bit much.

As flashes burst around him, capturing the big finish, his thoughts overtook him again. Why had the moaning bothered him so much? The women he performed with overdid it too, and he didn’t find that irksome. Then again, they were encouraged to. Apparently straight guys couldn’t tell real moaning from fake if it screamed in their ear. The gay market was different. Less forgiving, for sure. If it didn’t pay so well, Mike might say to hell with it and make the switch.

But then, corny acting or not, he’d be hard-pressed to give up cock.

“Cut!” Colette clapped her hands. “Nice work, gentlemen. Let the photographers get some final shots, and then we’ll wrap.”

As soon as Mike was cleared, he rolled over and sank onto the bed, exhausted. The silk sheets and mountains of throw pillows might have seemed luxurious to some, but all he wanted to do was lie on a flat surface and stretch out his back. Of course, Diego chose to lounge right next to him, elbows and knees touching, though there was a whole bed. Mike wanted to shove him onto the floor. He didn’t, though. He’d love to claim it was because he was too polite to be rude to a coworker, but in truth, shoving him would involve touching him, and after hours of skin-to-skin filming, that was the last thing Mike wanted to do.

Diego made a single attempt to strike up a conversation with him, but when Mike responded with a wordless grunt, he wandered off to find his clothes. Mike watched him go with vague interest. As soon as he’d dressed and Colette had assured him that he’d get paid by direct deposit, Diego scuttled off. Probably to catch a happy hour or something, judging by his flashy clothes.

Mike tsked. A man without fashion sense was like a muscle car without a paint job.

Does Diego owe you money? Why are you being so harsh?

He wasn’t the catty sort, under normal circumstances. Professional courtesy was an important part of the biz; he knew that better than most.

Oh well. It didn’t matter. He’d never see Diego again. It was rare for two porn stars to film more than once together, and not simply because audiences were always looking for something new. Few porn stars stuck around as long as Mike had, and he’d only been at this for three years. Either the others were quitters, or they were a lot smarter than he was.

Whoa, where did that thought come from?

He let his mind wander as the crew finished packing up the equipment around him. What was up with him lately? He gave himself a little shake to dispel his sour mood, but it clung to him like stale cigarette smoke.

Maybe it was because everything from his back to his cheek muscles was sore from having to act like he was having breathtaking sex while bent like a pretzel. But he’d never been bothered by porn’s artifice before. They were all here to put on a show. They all acted like they were turned on by things that looked good on camera but felt like their spines were going to crack. Mike had a bloodstream full of Viagra right now to keep him, well, at attention. It was his job, and it’d been good to him these past few years. Why, then, was he suddenly so put off by how fake it all was?

Because it’s been a long time since you’ve had anything real.

He pushed that thought away. Since when was he so maudlin? He was probably being moody. He’d perk up when he got his next fat paycheck. Speaking of which.

“Hey, Colette,” he called, propping himself up on his elbows. “I was wondering if you have any new projects I might be good for.”

Colette, who was bent over a laptop set up on a folding table, looked up. “You just finished filming one. How can you be thinking of your next gig already?”

He shrugged, both answering her question and testing his back. He’d recovered enough to get dressed. He rolled off the bed and pulled on his boxers, which Diego had flung next to the nightstand two hours ago. “You know me. Always the workaholic.”

Colette went back to reviewing the footage on her laptop. “That’s true. You’re one of my most dedicated performers. And one of my highest earning. Which is why I’m surprised you’re fishing for all these small-time gigs. You got a gambling problem I don’t know about? Gotta keep a bookie off your back?”

“Would you care if I did?”

“Of course I would. I want all my employees to be happy and healthy.” Colette blinked long, synthetic eyelashes at him. “So you can make me lots and lots of money.”

“That’s the spirit. Got anything coming up?”

“I was actually going to ask if you mind staying late tonight. I have an audition coming in.”

Mike frowned. “You mean like a new recruit? I thought you preferred to vet them on your own first before introducing them to anyone else.”

“I do, but in this case, I think it’d be best to have him do a scene with a pro.” She slipped a file folder off the table and flipped it open. “The guy’s résumé was . . . Well, let’s just say I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time, and not in a good way. I expect new applicants to be green, but this guy actually wrote a paragraph about how being gay makes him a prime candidate for this. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or call the ACLU and report a hate crime.”

“Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. How do I fit in?”

“Considering your experience and delightful no-nonsense attitude, I figure you’re the perfect person to put him through his paces, so to speak. I want you to see what he’s got.”

“I’m not going to babysit some newbie.”

“All right, no need to be grouchy.” Colette held a hand up, palm facing him. “This is a request, not an order. If it were that important to me, I’d have asked you earlier. But I figured since you’re here and asking for work, and we have the space booked already . . .” She paused. “And you’d be compensated for your time.”

Mike peaked an eyebrow. “Same rates as before?”

“Of course.”

“Do I have to fuck him? Because I’m good, but even I only have so many in me per day.”

“Sex is optional. In fact, I’d prefer you didn’t. We’re losing the light, and I have an early morning.”

Mike considered it. He didn’t need the money, per se, but that was because he worked hard to keep it that way. Colette might think these little gigs were beneath him, but they made ends meet when he was between projects and work was scarce. There was no such thing as a salaried porn star, and he had a lifestyle to maintain.

On the other hand, did he want to deal with yet another amateur today? The sound of Diego’s embellished moans hung in the back of his mind like an irritating-but-catchy pop song. Plus, he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was burned out.

He knew one way to settle this.

“You got a photo of the guy?”

Colette beamed. “Yup. I printed some out along with his résumé.” She handed the file folder over.

Mike glanced at it. The résumé was on top, and Colette was right: it was a joke. The guy—whose real name had been blacked out with Sharpie; Colette was a stickler for protecting the identities of her employees, including potential ones—had listed some of the most rambling and irrelevant credentials Mike had ever read. The guy sounded like a college kid who was taking a stab at writing his first résumé. Mike peeked at the potential’s stats. Twenty-one years old. That explained a lot. Mike was only twenty-five, but he knew better than anyone what a difference four years could make.

He flipped the résumé to the side, revealing the photos, and his heart twisted in his chest. He’d been expecting the typical porn fare: a greased-up shirtless guy lounging on a bed. Instead, the man in the photos was fully dressed, in normal clothing too. No booty shorts or mesh or glitter. In his head shot, he was smiling, sans dicks in the background or come on his chin. It could have been a yearbook photo had he not been wearing a goofy Christmas sweater.

The full-length shot went one step further: it looked candid. It plucked Mike’s attention out of the air and held it in a firm grip. Not because the guy had an amazing body or anything—though Mike liked his whole tall, lean thing—but because his posture was so . . . open. Genuine. The angle caught his face in profile, but Mike could see that he had a relaxed, dreamy expression as he reached for a horse’s muzzle with a long-fingered hand.

Of course, there was no way the shots weren’t staged. Even a complete amateur wouldn’t send in nonprofessional photos. Mike had to give him points for creativity, though. The horse was a nice touch.

This guy must have some serious acting verve to pull off a shot like this. Most of the male performers Mike knew relied on having washboard abs to get them work, and it showed. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be such a waste of time after all. Plus, Mike had to admit, the whole blond, clean-cut look was doing it for him. He had a grittier image, and he was a sucker for taking angelic twink types and dirtying them up. It was almost enough to make him wish sex were on the table.

“Well?” Colette grinned. “Can I take that silence as approval?”

He cleared his throat, not wanting to appear overeager. “He’s hot, I’ll give you that.”

“Hot enough to convince you to join us this evening?”

Feigning nonchalance, he closed the folder and handed it back. “I guess it can’t hurt to stay. I could use the money.” The lie felt heavy on his tongue.

“Wonderful.” Colette’s brown eyes twinkled. “I’m sure you and the money will get along famously.”

She turned back to her laptop, oblivious to him now that she’d gotten her answer. He finished getting dressed. Every article of clothing he pulled on had the name of an important Italian guy on the label. It was gratuitous to wear nice clothes to a porn set—they just got stripped off anyway—but he couldn’t help it. Dressing for the job helped him get into character. It was sort of a signature of his. Sean Hardwood always looked impeccable. Mike Harwood was the same way, but nobody cared about him.

Maybe the next time he was cast in a big production, he’d talk wardrobe with Colette. It had been a while since he’d landed anything decent. His last noteworthy performance had been a bit role in one of her holiday films: The Island of Misfit Boytoys. He’d played a horny elf who got gangbanged by a bunch of guys wearing fake antlers. He wouldn’t call it a show-stealer, but he’d received favorable reviews and a lot of web traffic, especially since he was a well-known power top. No quicker way to get the fetish mill going than to switch sides.

But that had been six months ago. In porn time, it might as well have been a decade. New videos were hitting the internet every second, and customers were always chasing a new high. Staying relevant wasn’t an uphill battle so much as a sheer rock climb, and his bills never stopped coming.

Jesus. The longer he dwelled, the more depressed he got. He needed to snap out of it. If the newbie performed better than him, he’d never live it down.

He sat on the bed to wait. Or brood, judging by his current mood. About twenty minutes passed, and most of the remaining crew members filed out. That left only Mike, Colette, and the camera operator, a woman named Yolanda, who was monosyllabic. Mike adored her. She never forced small talk. Which meant he had squat to do except wait. He settled into the pile of pillows on the bed and prepared to take a postcoital nap if need be.

He was beginning to nod off when Colette’s phone dinged. She pulled it out of her pocket. “He’s here. Yolanda, you mind fetching him?”

Yolanda nodded once and disappeared down the hallway. Mike sat up in anticipation. He ran a hand through his hair and noted with dismay that it was still damp with sweat.

“You look fine.” Colette was watching him with a knowing smile.

“Like I care,” he grumbled, disturbed to discover that he did.

A few minutes later Yolanda returned with a tall blond man trailing behind her. He had a wide smile on his handsome face—like he couldn’t be happier to be there—but there was something off about it. Something saccharine. Mike found it disconcerting.

“Welcome.” Colette held her hand out to the man. “I’m Colette. We spoke on the phone.”

The man took her hand and, to Mike’s abject horror, kissed her knuckles. “Nice to meet you.”

Colette blinked at him. “Pro tip, pal: professionals shake hands when greeting each other. Unless that doorway you stepped through led to the fifties.”

“Right. Sorry.” He took her hand and shook it this time. His smile was still in place, but now it looked like a grimace. “I’m Joshua Clemmons.”

Colette yanked her hand back. “We talked about this.” She’d hissed it under her breath, but Mike heard her anyway. “Remember?”

For a second, Joshua’s expression flickered. Then his smile fell off like an anchor dropping into the sea. “Oops. I forgot. I’m, uh, Dick Reams.”

A light bulb went off over Mike’s head.

Did he just give his real name? Mike sat straight up and stared at him. Holy shit, this guy had no clue what he was doing. Good thing the other crew members had left. Not that they would say anything, but the fewer people who’d heard that colossal blunder, the better.

Now that Mike knew his real name, he couldn’t disassociate it with the man in front of him. He’d have to be careful not to call him Joshua out loud. I wonder if he goes by Josh.

Colette pinched the bridge of her nose. “Will you please pick a less ridiculous stage name?”

“But aren’t cheesy names expected?”

The look Colette gave him could wither a whole orchard. “Maybe for the other dollar-bin entertainment companies out there, but Murmur Inc. is different. We have these funny things called standards.”

Mike snorted. It’d been far too long since he’d gotten to watch Colette eviscerate a new kid. Or ream one, as he might prefer.

The sound of his laughter caught Joshua’s attention. He looked over, and Mike met his gaze without hesitation. Even from a few feet away, the delicate seafoam color of his eyes was apparent. Mike’s laughter caught in his throat.

“Who’s that?” Joshua asked in what had to be the loudest stage whisper of all time.

“That’s Sean Hardwood, one of my top performers.”

“He gets to use the name Hardwood, but I can’t be Dick Reams?”

The groan that issued from Colette was reminiscent of a dying sea mammal. “Please stop talking. You’re so much more handsome when you don’t talk.”

Joshua ignored her. “Am I auditioning with him? You didn’t tell me I was going to have sex with anyone today.”

“That’s because you’re not. Sean is here to help you test the waters. We need to see how well you play with others.”

“No offense, but he’s not my type.” Joshua glanced at him, his gaze roving over his hair. “I’m not into gingers.”

Mike probably should have been offended. He’d been teased for having red hair his whole life, though his auburn locks were now a part of his brand. But instead of getting angry, he found himself studying his bewildering new costar. Joshua’s mouth probably got him in a lot of trouble, but Mike found it sort of . . . refreshing. Charming, even. It was a far cry from the phony flirting he was used to getting from costars.

Colette, however, seemed unamused. “Let’s get one thing straight: Whatever preconceived ideas you have about porn, toss them all out right now. All of them. Porn isn’t just getting paid to get laid. It’s hard work. Uncomfortable, grueling, and exhausting work. Your personal preferences are inconsequential, and if you ever insult one of my employees again, that’ll be your last day with this company. If I book you for a gig and you accept it, then you will do your damn job. If you don’t like it, you can quit. Is that clear?”

Joshua swallowed so hard Mike heard it. “Crystal.”

Mike’s whole face had been consumed by a grin. There was nothing more validating than having Colette disembowel a man for him. He hoped he was never on the receiving end of her ire.

“Much better. Now, meet your new costar, if you should be so lucky.” Colette gestured for Mike to join them.

As instructed, he slid off the bed. He only had a few feet to work with, but he managed to put some sway into his hips as he approached. He stood next to Colette and ran a hand through the hair Joshua found so offensive, flexing his arm muscles. A professional would be able to spot his seduction techniques right away, but he was willing to bet Joshua would fall for them like a cheap card trick.

Right on cue, Joshua’s bravado slipped, revealing clear interest as he looked Mike up and down.

Might as well give him something to look at.

When Mike finished tousling his hair, he folded his arms behind his head, stretching his shirt up over his toned torso. Joshua’s eyes latched on to the V-shaped cut of muscle visible above his jeans and followed them down to—

“So, Dick, huh?” Mike asked. “Or did you want to be called something else?”

Colette shot him a warning look, but he ignored it. If the newbie was dumb enough to shout his name from the rooftops, he deserved a little good-natured ribbing.

Joshua shrugged. “You can call me Josh, I guess.”

Colette shook her head. “I advise against letting anyone call you by your real name on set. Unless you want it spread around. We have office gossip, same as any other job.”

He chewed on his lip. “Dick, then. I go by Dick.”

“I’m Sean. It’s a pleasure.” He gave Josh one of his finest sultry once-overs. “Or at least, it will be soon.”

It was amazing what one look could do. In a breath, the vestiges of Josh’s fake confidence vanished and were replaced by a mixture of arousal and nerves. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he shifted his weight in a way Mike recognized all too well. He would have bet money that Josh was starting to get hard.

“It’s, um, nice to meet you.” The flush that spread over his fair cheeks was beautiful. For the first time, he looked like the wholesome, American Dream type Mike had first seen in his photos. The one he wanted to pin down and dirty up, in every sense.

A predatory emotion within Mike lifted its head and sniffed the air. He shouldn’t be turned on by Josh’s naïveté. Colette was taking valuable time out of his day to have him train a newbie so green, he was like a sapling trembling in the breeze. Josh couldn’t even pull off a decent fake-it-till-you-make-it. And yet, Josh was pushing buttons for him that were coated in dust, it’d been so long since someone touched them.

Mike knew better than to mix business with pleasure—beyond the literal—but the idea of performing with someone he had actual chemistry with was tempting. “I get the feeling that by the time we’re finished, you’re going to develop a taste for ginger.”

Josh’s mouth flapped like a fish, speechless. Mike’s grin grew. He must not know that it’s customary for porn stars to flirt with each other before a shoot. He thinks I’m being serious. Which, to be fair, I am a little bit.

“Sean. A word, please?” Colette stepped out into the hallway without looking to see if he was going to follow.

He did, shutting the bedroom door behind him. “What’s up?”

Colette faced him and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m having doubts about our latest addition. I intended to film a teaser for the website with him today, but now that I’ve met him . . .” She clicked her tongue. “I’m not sure he’s worth the money.”

To Mike’s surprise, defensiveness rose up in him. “That seems harsh. Give the guy a chance. Teasers are only three to five minutes long, which means they can’t take more than an hour to film. How much can that cost?”

“Fifteen hundred dollars.”

Mike whistled. “Shit. I always knew it was a lot, but that’s outrageous.”

Colette started ticking off on her fingers. “There’s the cost of renting this location. Production expenses. Video editing. Yolanda’s compensation. Your compensation—”

Mike’s tongue acted without his volition. “I’ll do it for free.”

Colette’s eyebrows shot up to her heart-shaped hairline. “You’ll what?”

Her shock was justifiable. Mike hadn’t done a freebie in . . . ever.

Despite questions racing through his head, he stood his ground. “You’re a sucker for natural light, right? That’s why you scheduled him for right before sunset?”

“That was the plan, yes. But if he fucks up and takes too long—which I suspect he will—we’ll have to shoot with overhead lights. Or cut our losses right now. I could pay to rent this place for another hour, but somehow I doubt he’ll be worth it.”

“Just give him until the sun sets. That’s less than an hour of filming, and since we’re not having sex, I don’t think it would be fair for you to pay me for that. You can cut some costs, and I’ll consider it a favor.”

Colette looked at him askance. “That’s generous of you. Should I be concerned?”

“Why, because I want to watch the new kid flounder some more? This is pure Schadenfreude on my part.” Mike shrugged. “Well, that and he’s hot. Besides, don’t think for a second I won’t call in my favor the next time you’re holding auditions for one of your big films.”

That’s not the whole truth, and you know it.

Mike slapped a muzzle on his mental voice. “Murmur Inc. has done a lot for me, so I don’t mind giving back. Especially if it keeps me in the forefront of your mind come casting time.”

She tapped a manicured finger against her chin, considered him, and then her expression gave way. “All right. You’re on. Dick seems to respond to you anyway. Maybe you can coax some star quality out of that lifeless rock.” She opened the bedroom door and marched inside without another word.

Mike followed after her. She made a beeline for Yolanda and started discussing lighting. Thanks to a large west-facing window, the room was suffused in warm, golden light. It was perfect for filming right now, but it wouldn’t last. They needed to hustle, loath as he was to rush. If they produced a sub-par piece, Sean Hardwood would look terrible right along with everyone else. He’d have to hope Josh could produce.

Josh had taken a seat on the edge of the bed. When Mike entered, Josh caught his eye and smirked like he was trying to pull his confident mask back on. As Mike approached, it slipped off his face as if it had been oiled.

“Mind if I join you?” Mike gestured to the space next to Josh.

Josh opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out, and his bottom lip trembled. Mike was overwhelmed by the desire to take it between his teeth and bite. Josh must’ve been at a loss for words, because he ended up just nodding and scooting over a little. Mike took the seat, struggling to keep his face neutral. If he acted too wolfish, Josh might spook. He’d never be able to explain to Colette why her new recruit had run screaming from the room.

“So, Colette says this is your first time.” Mike smiled. “Nervous?”

“No.” Josh sounded defensive. “I’m not a virgin.”

Mike suppressed a laugh. “Good to know, but you’re still a porn virgin, which is a whole ’nother ball game. You’re about to learn that having sex and filming porn are different things.”

Josh bit his lip, and Mike was hit by that urge again. “I don’t understand.”

“You will when we get started.”

“All right, gents.” Colette directed her attention at them. “We have to move fast. We’ve got about forty minutes to get this done. Anybody need to hydrate or stretch or anything?”

“I’m good,” Mike said.

Josh glanced at him and then back at Colette. “Me too.” His tone sounded like a challenge, or maybe like he was trying to prove something.

Mike’s mouth twitched. If he wants to get competitive with me, I can think of all sorts of ways to make that fun.

He was somewhat alarmed to realize how much he was looking forward to this. Man, he needed to get out more.

“I want you both to sit back against the headboard like you’re two buddies having a normal conversation.”

“In bed,” Josh quipped. “Like you do.”

Mike snorted before he could stop himself.

Colette glared at them both. “We’re on a time crunch, remember? As I was saying, I don’t have a script prepared for you, so you can talk about whatever comes to mind. This is informal, and it isn’t about dialogue so much as chemistry, which you two seem to have plenty of.”

Mike snuck a look at Josh. He was blushing again.

“Dick, bear in mind,” Colette continued, “this is your first introduction to Murmur Inc. and our clientele. Make an impression and you may start off with a strong fan base. That’ll drive demand for you, and hopefully it’ll give some new people a reason to hit that subscribe button.” She winked and looked to Yolanda. “Ready?”

Yolanda gave a thumbs-up from behind the tripod.

“Get into position, gentlemen.”

Mike and Josh both scooted back so they were sitting against the pillows with a couple of inches between their bodies.

“Perfect. Action!”

Yolanda flipped a switch, and the red recording light flashed on.

Mike turned to Josh, ready to strike up a conversation, but stopped short. Josh was staring at the camera like it was going to bite him: eyes wide, mouth open. His face was so comical, Mike burst out laughing.

“Cut!” Colette massaged her temples. “Dick, I didn’t think I had to mention this, but you’re not supposed to look directly at the camera.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Josh’s expression was sheepish. “Where should I look, then?”

“. . . At your partner.”

“Ah! Of course. Got it. I’m ready now.” Josh peeked at Mike and sent him a small smile. Mike had to fight the urge to giggle. Josh was like a rubber ball. With the slightest touch, he went ricocheting between bravado and uncertainty, leaving utter calamity in his wake.

Colette signaled to Yolanda again. “Action!”

This time, Josh kept his focus on Mike. It was an improvement, though there was still something unnatural to the stiff set of his shoulders and the way his gaze never wavered.

Mike didn’t know what it was about Josh that put him in such a charitable mood, but he resolved to loosen the kid up before Colette nixed the whole project as a lost cause. “So, Dick, you said this is your first time filming porn?”

In lieu of an answer, Josh glanced at Colette.

Mike chuckled. “Don’t worry. We’re allowed to break the fourth wall. You can answer.”

He looked back. “Uh, yeah, it is.”

“How do you feel about it so far?”

“Fine, I guess. I honestly didn’t know what to expect.” His eyes wandered once down Mike’s body before they met his again. “But I have a good feeling about it.”

Shit. Maybe he’s got a knack for this after all.

“I like your confidence. Let’s see if you can back it up.” Mike leaned forward, reached behind himself to grab hold of his shirt, and slipped it off in one fluid motion. He tossed it to the side before flicking his hair away from his eyes and grinning at Josh. “Your turn.”

Josh didn’t move. Instead, he stared at Mike’s defined chest with a distinct awed expression. It was immensely satisfying.

“What’s wrong?” Mike edged closer. “Never seen a shirtless man before?”

“Yes. I mean, no, I have.” His bratty, defensive tone was back. “You just . . . surprised me.” He pulled his shirt off too, tossing it onto the floor like Mike had.

Mike whistled, studying his torso without bothering to be subtle about it. Josh wasn’t as cut as Mike was, but he was so damn lean. He probably did cardio, like jogging or something. And he was tall. Mike had no complaints—at least, with what he’d seen so far.

“Are you a top or a bottom?” Mike asked.

It was a standard question in the biz, but Josh seemed put off by it. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

“Dude, this is porn. You’re gonna fuck on camera at some point.”

“Oh, right.” Josh ran a shaky hand through his hair, and the light strands fanned over his brow. “I’m a top.”

Mike smirked. “Not with me, you’re not.”

Josh pouted. “You can’t—”

Mike reached over and trailed a finger down his bare chest. “Look at all that fair skin. I bet you bruise like a peach.”

It was impossible to tell if the flush that swept over Josh’s body was from embarrassment or arousal, but judging by his quickened breathing, Mike would have put money on the latter.

Before Josh could respond, Colette interjected with some direction. “Not bad, newbie. You’re a little stiff, but your reactions almost seem genuine.” She glanced at her laptop, which was streaming the live feed. “And the camera loves you. That’s always a plus. We’ve got about twenty-five minutes left. That’s enough time for us to film a kiss.”

Mike nodded, excitement bubbling up in him. He’d have to examine why that was later, but for now he was prepared to give the whole world a show. Except, when he looked at Josh, he was frowning.

“A kiss?” Josh’s eyebrows knit together.

“Yes. Please tell me you’ve heard of it.”

“Of course I have. It’s just . . .”

Colette signaled for Yolanda to cut. “Is there a problem? Again?”

“Isn’t kissing supposed to be off-limits, or something? Like, too intimate for porn?”

Colette blew out an exasperated breath. “Where did people get the ridiculous idea that kissing is more intimate than sex? I blame Pretty Woman for this. No, kissing isn’t too intimate for porn. Or maybe it is for some companies, but we’re not peddling emotionless titillation here. Our porn has romance. Storylines. Production value. Didn’t you do your research before applying to work for us?”

“I did, I swear. I guess I thought . . .” He glanced at Mike as if looking for help. Mike shook his head. “Never mind. I dunno what I thought.”

“Less thinking. More doing. We’re burning daylight. Action!”

Mike eyed Josh, wondering what sort of kisser he was. Every guy was different. Some liked to ease into it while others went in guns blazing. Or tongues blazing, as was often the case. Mike sincerely hoped that wasn’t Josh’s style. If one more porn star decided it was sexy to shove his tongue down Mike’s throat, he’d gag. Or at least, he would if he hadn’t trained away that reflex a long time ago.

As it turned out, Josh’s style was to do nothing. He looked at Mike with wide eyes that said one thing: I’m at a loss. His trembling had returned. Mike couldn’t tell if it was stage fright or genuine fear, but Josh seemed like he was one loud noise away from a meltdown. This was the most transparent his inexperience had been thus far.

Impatience flashed through Mike—they had a job to do, after all—but there was a tinge of something else. Like sympathy, only . . . deeper.

Throw him a bone, said a voice in the back of his head. He’s scared. You were a scared newbie once too.

“Hey.” He made his voice soft and gentle, like the brush of a hand. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Josh’s eyes twitched like he wanted to look at the camera.

“Relax. I’ll only bite if you like that sort of thing.”

That earned him a laugh. Before his eyes, Josh relaxed a little bit. “I only like biting sometimes.”

“Let me guess.” Moving slowly, Mike thumbed the hollow of Josh’s throat. “Your neck.”

“Yeah.” Josh’s voice was breathy. For the first time since they’d started filming, his full attention seemed to be on Mike. There was a sliver of a chance he’d managed to do what every porn star had to learn to do: forget the camera, forget the other people in the room, and relax.

Mike wondered if he could claim this act of charity on his taxes. But then, if he was just being nice, why was his heart beating so fast?

You’re probably picking up on the newbie’s nerves. Stay in character.

He leaned closer, twisting his torso until their faces were inches apart. “Can I kiss you?” He wet his lips and dropped his eyes to Josh’s mouth. “I want to.”

“Um.” Josh’s chest was visibly rising and falling with his quickened breaths. The air between them had a notable charge, but even with all the sexual tension crackling around them, Josh was still shaking.

Mike lowered his voice, too low for Colette or the camera to pick up. “You’re just a scared kid, aren’t you?”

“I’m not a kid.” Josh managed to sound defiant, though his voice cracked.

Why is that so endearing?

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I, um. I . . .”

“Something on your mind?” Mike cocked his head to the side. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

It was like Mike had punched a hole in a dam. The words seem to burst from Josh. “Your cologne. You smell like citrus. Like oranges or something. It smells so good, I can’t think straight.” As soon as his outburst was over, a full-body flush swept over him.

Mike was shocked by his own reaction. Coming from anyone else, he would have thought that was a line, but from Josh it came across as genuine. Real and raw and honest. Mike found himself closing the distance between them before he could think about it. “Let me kiss you. I need to.”

Josh whimpered. “Please.”

The last thing Mike noticed before he closed his eyes was the hot brush of Josh’s panted breaths against his lips, and then they were kissing.

It was artless, if Mike were being honest. Frantic and messy and probably the least-skillful kiss he’d ever experienced, but fuck. It felt amazing.

The room melted away. Mike forgot about Colette and the camera and everything but the man next to him. Mike hadn’t kissed someone for the sheer pleasure of it in . . . Nothing came to mind, which meant it had been far too long.

Josh’s mouth was soft and just the right amount of pliant. He opened easily beneath Mike’s firmer touch, allowing him to take charge of the kiss. Precisely how Mike liked it.

He leaned into Josh’s body, guiding him back, and noted with heady delight that Josh moved with him without resistance. They fell against the sheets together, chest to chest, and everything from their mouths to their bodies slotted into place like puzzle pieces. Mike was hard within seconds, and this time, he wasn’t relying on Viagra.

For a dizzying moment, Mike thought, I could get totally lost in him.

“Cut!”

Damn.

Mike jerked his head up and wondered if his eyes were still closed. The room was much darker than it had been before, illuminated by the final few rays of a fading sun. He blinked, disoriented. A small noise drew his attention beneath him. Josh was staring up at him, red-lipped and disheveled in a way that screamed sex. Jesus, Mike wanted to kiss him again.

But Colette had other ideas. “That’s a wrap, gentlemen. You can stop now.”

“Really?” Mike asked. “You don’t want us to do an outro?”

“No, the point of a teaser is to leave them wanting more, as you well know. If the video cuts off, people will think there’s a full-length one out there, and they’ll subscribe to the site.”

“Oh. Right. I knew that.” Mike couldn’t keep the disappointment from his tone. He looked down at Josh again, only to find him squirming. Oops. Mike was still on top of him, and his weight must be getting uncomfortable. He rolled off him and ordered his pulse to get back under control.

Colette tucked a fist under her chin and considered them. “Good work, Sean. Dick, you weren’t a total disaster. Shocked as I am to admit it, I’m impressed.”

Josh gave her a baleful look.

Mike laughed. “Don’t pout. From her, that’s a compliment.”

But Josh’s attention was on Colette. “So, am I in, or what?”

Easy, newbie. Don’t poke the bear.

Colette was already bent over her laptop, but she spared him a glance. “I think it’s safe to say you’ve earned another shot. Congrats, Dick. I’ll send you an email with some scheduling options, and then next time, we’ll film for real.”

“Looking forward to it.” Josh hopped to his feet and scooped his shirt off the floor in seconds.

Mike watched him with a combination of bewilderment and amusement. Either Josh didn’t like being shirtless in front of strangers, or he’d realized he’d left his stove on. “Where’s the fire?”

“There’s no fire.” Josh directed his response at the carpeted floor. “If we’re finished filming, I can go, right?”

Colette answered. “Yup. We’re all set here.”

“Great.” Josh pulled his shirt on like he was being timed.

It was silly, but Mike almost felt insulted. He’d stuck his neck out for Josh, and yet Josh hadn’t even said thank you. Of course, Josh didn’t know what Mike had done for him, but still. He could at least extend the usual after-performance courtesies. A simple Hey, it was nice working with you would have sufficed.

If this seems familiar, it’s because this is how you treated Diego not two hours ago. Karma’s a bitch.

Damn. He couldn’t argue with that. Nevertheless, maybe Josh didn’t know what the protocol was. He was new after all.

Mike reached out and caught his arm. “Hey.”

Josh froze with his face turned away. “What?”

“You don’t have to rush out of here. You can stay behind and review the film if you want. It needs to be edited, but you’ll get a kick out of seeing yourself on camera. Also, just so you know, I thought you did great. It was nice working with you.” There. He’d led by example, and Josh seemed like the sort of person who needed praise. Three good deeds in one night.

To his surprise, Josh tugged his arm out of Mike’s grip. “I have to get going. I have places to be. It was, um, nice working with you too.”

With that, he headed out the door and disappeared down the hall. Mike heard the front door slam a moment later. Hard.

Colette looked up at the sound, frowning. “What was that all about?”

Mike stared at the spot Josh had just vacated, stomach churning. “I have no idea.”