Red Hot Romance on the Red Carpet Read online

  Red Hot Romance on the Red Carpet

  BLMorticia

  Copyright © 2018 by Sharita Lira writing as BLMorticia

  Published by Triad Literary

  Red Hot Romance on the Red Carpet

  BLMorticia

  Cover Art Erika Kristen

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Your non-refundable purchase allows you to one legal copy of this work for your own personal use. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload, or for a fee.

  Disclaimer: This book may contain explicit sexual content, graphic, adult language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable which might include: male/male sexual practices and multiple partner sexual practices.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, or events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.

  Dedication

  Always for Mack and Scottie!

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  Contents

  Dedication

  Thanks

  Blurb

  Chapter One - Richard

  Chapter Two - Issak

  Chapter Three - Richard

  Chapter Four - Issak

  BLMorticia

  Author Sharita Lira:

  Blurb: Sometimes staying in the closet is the best decision.

  Richard Thomas is one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. His British accent and Colgate smile make women swoon. For the cameras, he's only dates the ladies, but Issak Trevett knows better.

  Issak Trevett's star may be bigger, but he has a weakness for Richard. One that could ruin both their careers. Neither man wants to risk the fallout that could happen if they both came out, but the attraction is so undeniable, they declare their feelings for one another during one night of unadulterated passion.

  Red Hot Romance and the Red Carpet

  BLMorticia

  Chapter One - Richard

  “Right here, Richard. Over here.” Photographers barked orders at me to turn towards their cameras. Lights blinded me from every angle, but I couldn’t shield my eyes because the pictures wouldn’t come out the way my agent wanted them to.

  Doing as requested of me, I stood in the center of the oddly pink carpet, flashing my killer smile for the masses. Hordes of women and men screamed for me to look their way so they could get a precious snapshot for their cameraphone.

  The mixture of colognes, perfumes, and natural musks created a weird scent that assaulted my senses. In all honesty, there were too many people packed into this place. They had to have broken some fire codes, but didn’t give a damn because it meant more money.

  Nevertheless, I loved being in the middle of it. I could sense the desire from these people, and being the attention whore I was, I gobbled it up because I loved it.

  I lived for this.

  It was my life.

  This life.

  The life of a movie star, trapped in this mixed up world of fame and a little fortune. Throughout the years, I’d played the parts of dashing superhero, handsome mobster, as well as intelligent sheriff to delight of millions across the globe.

  Every role had been curtailed to show off my bright, Colgate smile that hardly ever wavered.

  Except when.

  Distracted by my thoughts of my wayward lover, I dropped my gaze from the flashing bulbs of expensive cameras and glanced at my feet. He was nowhere to be found there, but I needed to look away if only to gather myself and forget the loneliness I experienced without him near.

  He’d be here tonight though, with his gorgeous wife in tow, while I, the great Richard Thomas, stand alone. Alone, because I didn’t wish to be bothered with my younger girlfriend’s complaints about the length of the film or when we would go to dinner. I only wanted to enjoy the premiere, and hopefully steal a moment or two with the man I lusted after.

  Issak.

  If I could steal him away from the masses of reporters and fans as well as our fellow stars who wished to get a piece of him. His celebrity star was just as big, if not bigger than mine. He’d been courted the world over by many movie studios, desiring him to play the next anti-hero. He’d played that role so well in practically every film he’d done.

  Too well if you asked me.

  Issak had a mean streak to him that would make front page of the gossip columns.

  I knew of it because many times I’d been on the other end, enjoying every minute, as if it were my means to survival.

  Issak was my Dom, my protector, and I was his sub and muse. Until I met him years ago, I’d never been into the D/s dynamic, but being with Issak had completely changed my mind.

  During our last conversation, he’d told me about the drawing he etched on his personal canvas while visiting Maui. Issak drew a picture of me, bound and gagged on top of his bed. My ass up in the air and ankles cuffed to a spreader bar to give him access to every part of my body. To loosen me up for his entrance, Issak stuck a butt plug far into my anal cavity and tied both hands behind my back. After filling my mind with the sordid details, Issak had taken a picture of it and sent it to me while I was on the set. He promised he’d want to act that scene out the moment we got the chance to be alone again.

  When would that be?

  I’d asked myself and him the question, but unfortunately, he didn’t possess a single answer. From the day he’d sent me that message, I could only think of Issak and what he could do to me.

  With thoughts of our rendezvous’ becoming more frequent, my girlfriend wasn’t interesting enough to hold my interest and many times, I sent her home in favor of masturbating to any Issak Trevett flick I could get my hand on.

  That message was sent over sixty five days ago.

  I was at my wits end.

  To work off the frustration, I worked out harder than before. I ran marathons for charity on my off time. When back on set, I stayed to myself, only so the crews wouldn’t chide me for looking like a love lost puppy.

  Yes, I had it bad for him.

  I wanted him.

  I desired him as much as breathing.

  But no, oh no, it wasn’t love. I had no problem declaring myself bisexual, but I knew I couldn’t love Issak because it would be a detriment to both our careers. Besides, I was no homewrecker. Issak had the perfect wife.

  Brianne was delightful. Issak often joked that we should tell her just to see her reaction. Of course, I told him no. The fling between was all I needed to fulfill and satisfy my sexual needs.

&
nbsp; When being one of Hollywood’s leading men, you had to keep a lot of those things on the hush because the blacklist is not a myth. Tell me, what dashing hunk still gets top paying roles when he is assumed to be a sexual deviant?

  Chapter Two - Issak

  “Over here. C’mon, Issak. Show me what you got.” Annoying members of the paparazzi yelled my name. I held back from giving them the finger.

  “Ah, Issak, oh my God, I wanna have your babyeeeee!”

  Typical.

  If only I could say what was on my mind, but I had to grin and bear it to keep my somewhat squeaky clean image intact. Don’t get me wrong, I loved all the fans, but these open to the public movie premieres unnerved me. I’d been attacked by a crazed fan years ago, leaving this oh so precious scar on my chin.

  Yes, it had become part of my personality.

  It gave me character.

  It made me hotter than when I was on Guerrila Heat wearing cutoffs and flexing my muscle around the dweebs on set. Despite the fame that came along with that slash to the face, I had paid a price. Believe me when I say, I wouldn’t want it to happen again.

  That lady was mental. When she etched her blade into my face, she claimed wanting a piece of my skin for her personal collection.

  Yikes.

  Yeah, I had nightmares for days after that and the bill from the psychiatrist nearly broke me. Now, the fans loved me because of that blemish and, the best part, I got better roles. The kind that gets you appearances at comic conventions and other nerdy gatherings.

  I was Jenoa Bakkaba, Devlin on Guerrilla Heat. These roles would cement a place for me in history and make me, a vodka guzzling, basketball junkie a legend in Hollywood.

  More than that, being in big time movies meant hobnobbing with actors bigger and better than you. During these meetings of the minds, you had excellent conversation.

  What to do about crazed fans literally stalking you or in cyberland? How many letters you should answer through your fan clubs? What to post on your social media, etc etc etc. I'd listened to all the advice because my personal agent didn’t think it was important. He thought finding my next roles and scheduling my next appearances were, so I relied heavily on my actor brethren to answer all the questions. All of them had been very helpful, especially the hot British man I had my eyes on now.

  Tuning out the photographers and fans, I fixated on Richard, wearing a black three piece suit with a purple tie and matching handkerchief. Looking at him, I suddenly felt very under dressed, but I was never into formals anyway. The ensemble fit him nice. Real snug, especially around the ass. The fabric hugged his butt cheeks and I salivated at the vision of spreading them wide open to dip my tongue and hard cock in between them.

  What’s that you say? Why am I fawning of Richard Thomas?

  Well, fuck, who wouldn’t? He’s so dreamy! (squeals in teenie bopper voice)

  Ahem.

  Yeah, I like it all. I may be married, but Brianne and I like to play from time to time. She loves the girls and I love the boys. Men, I should say because pretty boys did nothing for me.

  So, why am I so into Richard?

  He is very pretty. Those azure blue eyes, the killer grin, the dimples, and the perfectly coiffed hairdo. He was the poster boy for pretty, but he wasn’t a twink.

  I didn’t do twinks. I ate them for lunch, because having a lover who didn’t match me in strength bored me to tears.

  No question, I loved a man who looked good, but I also needed him to be rugged. Whether clean shaven or sporting fuzz on his cheeks, Richard was all that. He was gorgeous, and every chance I got to take advantage of the British heartthrob, I’d gladly do so.

  Wanting him something fierce, I stared his way while posing for cameras. My dick strained against my leather pants and I squeezed my legs together only to relieve some of the pressure.

  If only we were alone right now.

  If only no one gave a damn that two of Hollywood’s hottest men were in a relationship.

  Yes, a relationship.

  Only he doesn’t know it yet.

  He believes it’s an act of lust while I actually know better.

  I’m falling in love with this man who I’d driven to the point of ecstasy. He’d accepted and adopted the power plays between D/s. And instead of keeping myself in check I was drawn to him, like a magnet to metal.

  I desired more.

  Hell, we deserved more.

  We hid ourselves from the world to satisfy its stupid ass complex of what hetero macho men should be.

  Despite how forward Hollywood was, it was still taboo to be gay. Just ask Guy Tambor, how he can’t get the bigger roles like Richard and I can. He’s out. He has a beautiful husband. The moment he told the world he’d married a man, many of Hollywood’s biggest directors and writers shut their doors in his face.

  The guy doesn’t regret it though and for that, I have to admire him.

  Because I love what I do, I cannot tell the world about my torrid love affair with Richard Thomas.

  If we did, it would be a social media disaster and destroy any career the two of us hoped to maintain in the process.

  And we couldn’t have that happen now could we? I had too much at stake in my career. I was already sort of a rebel, but other than being an inspiration to many bisexuals around the globe, I couldn’t find another reason to out either one of us.

  No question, I wanted to support everyone who did. I loved the community. Both Brianne and I wholeheartedly supported every queer charity we could with our money and words. Despite that, the losses would be too huge for all of us to out ourselves. We’d be pariahs in Hollywood and heck, if I had kids they might be picked on at school if our sexual history was public knowledge.

  Sometimes there were good reasons to stay in the shadows and so fucking what if you don’t agree. You aren’t in mine or Richard’s shoes, taking roles where we’re forced to uphold a certain image. We do it to keep everyone around us employed and to keep the people that love us fed. For the love of everything that’s holy, we couldn’t come out and shock the world with our revelation. The best thing was to keep it all under wraps and let our fantasies stay in the shadows.

  Still in deep thought, I felt a warm hand on my bare arm and a nuzzle against my cheek. I leaned down to feel the warmth from my wife and partner of over a six years giving the cameras everything they wanted from a loving couple.

  “I dare you to go hug him!” Brianne whispered and followed it up with a swipe of her tongue over my earlobe.

  Okay, Richard notwithstanding, I was married to the hottest person on the planet, She was cool, awesome in bed, and completely understanding.

  What could I say? She got me and I got her.

  We were the rebels. The black sheep, and we wore those hats proudly. It was another reason why I wouldn’t out myself because I had the perfect setup already.

  Feeling my cock pulse under my leathers, I grinned and eyed her with my panty dropping grin.

  “You doubt my ability my pretty?” I said that to her in my best Brit speak.

  “No, but I dare you to hug him like a lover in front of all these people.”

  To say what I wanted, I held my hand over my mouth so no one read my lips.

  “He’ll beat me down if I do that to him in front of the press. Especially fucking Drummond. That man gets everything! Besides, I’m seeing him tonight, remember?”

  “Yeah, so. Are you chickening out?” Brianne’s brown eyes regarded me.

  Knowing she meant every word I cursed under my breath and grabbed her around the waist, kissing her head. “Okay, you’re on. What’s the bet?”

  “You hug him and I convince Leslie to allow you to fuck her. You know she’s scared as shit of your dick.”

  “Mhmm. And Leslie’s quite the beauty.” Leslie was Brianne’s girlfriend on the side. She only wanted Brianne and no part of me.

  “And if I don’t?” I rocked with her and the cameras were busy flashing our tender moment.

 
; Brianne hugged me close and spoke into my chest. “Hmm, let’s see. What would really hurt? Oh, I know. No vodka for a week.”

  Aw shit.

  “Fuck.”

  I had to have my vodka as bad as I had to have my woman on my arm. That was my vitamin. That clear liquid of life gave me energy to be the Issak Trevett everyone knew and loved. Without that, I might as well be Guerilla Heat Issak all over again. All scrawny, with no form, no mojo, and barely no women. Okay, scratch that, I had women, but they weren’t any of the gals I’d pulled down before I got hitched.

  And, by the way, no Richard either.

  Knowing what I had to do, I sighed and kissed her head. She pulled away from me and I spun on my heel, towards my target. I eyed him curiously, undressing him from head to toe, showing off the mischievous smile everyone knew and loved. No one except for me and Brianne had a clue about what I was doing which was good. It would ruin the surprise for him if anyone were the wiser.

  Like a cat about to pounce, I tiptoed behind him, with my arms stretched out, ready to grab. I wrapped two arms around him, feeling his body tense and air escape his lips.

  “Fuck!”

  Richard cursed aloud and he moved back against my frame so my dick touched the crevice of his ass.

  I groaned, knowing I’d just soiled the lining between my cock and the insides of my trousers. Yeah, I was free balling tonight because God dammit, any extra cloth down there would make me sweat. The lining was so I wouldn’t get friction burns on the tip on my dick. That shit hurt like hell.

  “Issak.”

  Richard gasped my name out and I could’ve sworn I came again. He turned around, face pinked, smiling like he was generally happy to see me. When I caught the tent in his pants, I knew I had the same effect on him as he had on me.

  Apparently excited, Richard hugged me back like a fellow actor and friend should. It was purely platonic to the eyes of many, but to me it was the foreplay that would fuel our night together. If there weren’t so many people tuned in, I’d grab his ass and lift him off his feet for thrills.