Page 114 of Naughty November
I’d felt more at ease during the award show. The event resembled the more mainstream Oscars except when the enormous screen onstage showed snapshots of scenes and videos. Performances hinged on actual intercourse. The two gay costars/cohosts made nonstop raunchy and vulgar jokes that cracked everyone up, exactly what one would expect from an award show of this kind.
For the after party, most people had ditched their formal attire and looked more like their professional persona. The imprint of tits, butts, and cocks in silk and lace left very little to the imagination. More than once, people greeted each other by sucking on each other’s faces.
It was…like nothing I’d ever seen.
One would think that with being in the adult entertainment industry for the past year, I would be comfortable at an event like this, but my role was simply that of crunching numbers. If I hadn’t begged, cajoled, and bribed Kieran, he wouldn’t have taken me as his plus-one.
Though I might end up being a plus-two, given how much his attention was on the brunette he was talking to. I clenched my teeth and fought the jealousy, like I’d been doing the last two years since I moved away from my strict parents to live with him. It was wishful thinking that at twenty-two, he would start seeing me as a man.
Kieran was popular with everyone and not just in the industry. He was a playboy in every sense of the word. He no longer performed in front of a camera, but a lot happened behind his closed doors, even if he seemed to be taking a break recently.
“Top or bottom?”
I blinked. A large man with several rings on all his fingers stood before me.
“E-excuse me?” I gawked, and who wouldn’t? Danny Driller, the winner of the best male performer of the year—his third time copping the title in a row—grinned at me.
His black mesh tank top clung to his chiseled torso, highlighting the curves of his pecs and the ridges of his abs. Intricate tattoos snaked over his biceps.
His tight black leather pants hugged his legs to mouth-watering perfection. They ended just above a pair of glossy black combat boots. A silver chain hung loosely around his waist, accentuating his lean hips and drawing attention to the prominent bulge beneath the leather. That bulge, coupled with his reputation for rough fucking younger men, had earned him his name.
He was a little too rough for my tastes, but his boys seemed pleased to choke down his cock and prove they could take him. Just looking at him made me clench my teeth.
A confident smirk played on his lips, and his eyes twinkled with a mix of mischief.
“I asked if you’re a bottom or top,” he said.
“Umm.” I licked my lips. I’d never tried anything, but I was 99 percent certain. “A bottom.”
“And a pretty one too. What’s your name, sweetheart? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”
My cheeks flamed. “It’s Iggy.”
“Iggy. Do you have a video out? I would love to watch you sometime.”
“No, sir.”
“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows and swept his gaze over my body, his interest clear. “Are you under representation?”
“No, sir.”
“Cute, polite, and unsigned. Do you know who I am, Iggy?”
“Yes, sir. You’re Danny Driller.”
“Good boy. There’s something about you, Iggy. Something the cameras would love. Your naked body tight around my cock. The viewers would love that, so what do you say?”
He wiggled his fingers into his incredibly tight pants, took out a card, and handed it to me.
I squirmed, my heart thumping. Danny Driller’s intensity confused me. Everything inside me screamed to run and find Kieran, but at the same time, the danger drew me in. Danny Driller was the kind of man who might force Kieran to see I was no longer his little stepbrother.
If I could take Danny…
I reached for the card. A hand shot forward and plucked it from my fingers.
Kieran.
He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to his side.