Mia Watts Acting Out

CTING

…Had that been a moment, Evan wondered? It was hard to tell. It

passed so quickly. What was he thinking? Cree Radek didn’t give
moments to mere mortals. And why should he? Evan worked for him.
They were just running lines and, in all fairness, Evan had been the
one to forget that arrangement. He’d been the one trying to tease Cree
with some tongue play.

It was good he’d pulled his fingers out when he had. Curry, and he

suspected any food, tasted better when licked off Cree. If he’d delayed
even a second longer, Evan would have given into temptation and
sucked those digits. A finger blow.

God, he’d almost slipped up. He couldn’t lose this job. Not yet.

Not when he was so close to finding his scumbag father. He needed
Cree and his connections. He couldn’t blow this, or Cree, for that
matter.

Evan’s full cock was becoming uncomfortable. In his old sweats, it

wouldn’t take much for Cree to notice the inappropriate bulge going
on. Evan shifted carefully, placing the script over his lap to lay open
while they ate and ran lines. It seemed like a natural placement. Maybe
Cree wouldn’t notice.

They worked for another two hours, finally calling it quits around

midnight.

“Let’s hit the sack,” Cree announced, his voice rasping with the

same fatigue Evan felt. “We’re leaving for the set at five.”

“In the morning?” Evan asked stupidly.
Cree cracked a smile, stretching those perfect lips over equally

perfect teeth. They had to have been whitened. No one had a smile that
bright. He found himself staring at Cree’s mouth wishing it would
come just a little closer…

LSO

ATTS

Wrong Number, Right Guy

ACTING OUT

MIA WATTS

MBER

UILL

RESS

, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

CTING

MBER

UILL

RESS

OOK

This book is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the

author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales,

or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

No portion of this book may be transmitted or

reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in

writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief

excerpts used for the purposes of review.

ISBN 978-1-61124-172-3

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

To the fans who write me.

You encourage me more than you know.

Thank you.

ACTING OUT

CHAPTER 1

“Walker! Where’s my fucking set bag?”
Evan Walker rolled his eyes. One week on what was supposed

to have been his dream job, and all he wanted to do was quit. But
quitting wasn’t an option. Not only didn’t he have anywhere else to
live, he hadn’t yet made friends in Hollywood.

“Walker!”
Unfortunately sticking around meant dealing with the juvenile

self-importance of one of Hollywood’s hottest actors, Cree Radek.
And if he wanted to keep this job, he needed to hop to.

“I have it.” Evan held it up by the strap. “The car is waiting for

you out front, and I’ve called ahead to have the trailer stocked with
your favorite bottled water.”

Cree grumbled something under his breath. “Carry it for me.

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You’re coming with me today,” he said more audibly.

Evan didn’t like that sound of that. All day with Cree? Oh, hell

no.

“Walker!”
“Mr. Radek, all my files are here.”
Cree swung around to face him. His longish black hair didn’t

budge from its spiky arrangement, and his kohl lined blue eyes
stared him down for a minute. He stood typically slouched in black
jeans, faded gray cotton shirt, and a black leather silver-studded
belt snug around his hips, dripping with chains. His long, lean form
and broad shoulders dominated the doorway.

“Huh,” Cree muttered. He grabbed the bag from Evan. “Fine.

Get your stuff together. I’ll send the car back for you.” Cree
strutted out of the house.

“But my computer,” Evan called after him.
“Buy a laptop, Walker, and get your ass to the set. You’ll be

joining me every day,” he yelled back.

Beautiful. Apparently there really wasn’t anything he could say

to change Cree’s mind. And now he’d be stuck with him day in
and day out until production wrapped on the latest flick. Evan
groaned. If he had to buy a new laptop to satisfy the boss, so be it.
He’d make damn sure it put a dent in the expense card.

* * *

It took him two hours to play around with every laptop on

display, and ask all the important questions. Even the ones he
already knew the answers to, because he was dragging his feet.
He’d never been on set before and it wasn’t a prospect he was
looking forward to. If the tabloids had it right, the ego-wattage

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alone would light the entire city of Los Angeles.

What Evan most suspected was that Cree’s idea of help would

mean becoming the whipping boy. All the responsibilities he
already had maintaining Cree’s social, personal, and professional
calendars, along with managing his every need before he spoke it,
would now include running to restaurants and arguing with
directors about movie lines.

At least Cree remembered to leave Evan’s name at the gate, he

thought, pulling through. He followed the convoluted directions
provided by the guard and found a parking spot. Heaving his work
bag over his shoulder and the new laptop box to his hip, Evan
began the long jaunt to Cree’s trailer.

Large warehouse sets bustled with people on either side of the

wide alley. A tourist trolley rounded the bend up ahead and
stopped beside the row Evan headed toward. He’d never seen Cree
interact with fans before. The thought of those somber clear eyes,
rimmed with black, pinning a fan as he scrawled his name on a
napkin for some squealing mass of Midwestern hysteria didn’t fit
any image Evan had of him. But he needn’t have bothered
wondering, because Cree wasn’t out there.

The tour guide loaded everyone back on the trolley.
“Who’s he? Is he anyone?” One beefy finger pointed at Evan

from the elongated golf cart.

“No,” the guide informed.
Evan tried not to sigh as he moved on. Just as he reached

Cree’s trailer, which he would have missed if there hadn’t been a
giant Cree painted all the way down the side, a guy with a
clipboard and a headset came up to him.

“We need Mr. Radek in makeup in five.”
“Sure,” Evan agreed. “Hey, can you get the door?”

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But the man had moved on. Evan balanced the spotted cow box

on his hip, and pushed the heavy tote over his other shoulder,
behind him. Then, gripping the tiny knob, he twisted, stepped
backward down the tiny metal steps to let the door swing open,
scooted around, and finally bumbled his way inside.

“About fucking time,” Cree muttered, sprawled on an

overstuffed leather couch.

Evan kept his temper in check. “Makeup wants you.”
“Did you get what you needed?” Cree asked tipping his head

toward the box. He lifted his hand and, for the first time, Evan
noticed a cigarette lodged between two fingers. The smoke curled
upward, obscuring his eyes as Cree drew in a breath.

“Yes, but I’ll need to set up all the systems.”
“Do that between jobs.” Smoke spilled out from between his

lips as he spoke.

“You smoke now?” Evan asked stupidly.
Cree held up the cigarette. “Naw. It’s cloves or some shit. The

character smokes. I’m practicing.”

“Awesome. Cancer from second hand smoke isn’t in my

contract.” Evan put his laptop box on the table and dropped his tote
to the floor. “Does it taste good?”

“Tastes like ass.”
He would have asked if Cree actually knew what ass tasted

like, but since Cree was openly bisexual, Evan figured he already
had the answer to that. “Other than setting up the new systems,
what do you need me to do today?”

“Run interference from the fans. Deliver shit that needs

delivering. Be my go-between. Take my calls.” Cree took another
languid puff. He coughed. “Tell the prop manager to put some
mint in this cigarette.”

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“Remind you to go to makeup,” Evan ticked off in the same

monotone.

Cree snorted and rose to his feet. He put out the fake cigarette

in the kitchenette sink. The trailer felt impossibly small with Cree
casually strolling around in it. “I had some stuff delivered for you
while you were out dicking around with the laptop. I left it on the
bed in the back.”

Without so much as a look in Evan’s direction, Cree left the

trailer.

“Left me something?” Evan wondered.
He craned his neck to see down the hall. The bedroom door

hung ajar. Evan shrugged and headed back. On the bed he found a
collection of electronics. A smart phone with a collapsible keypad,
a touch tablet computer with wireless access, a camera, a digital
recorder with downloadable music option, a video camera, and
several flash drives.

What did he do, buy the whole damn store?
But it was more than just convenient items to do his job. If

Evan had learned anything in the short time he’d already worked
for Cree, it was that Cree liked to make a point. And today’s
lesson, brought to Evan by the letters I, P, O, D and the number 64
gigabytes and that Cree had known Evan was stalling. It was
Cree’s simple, but effective, way to say that Evan had better stay
on his toes or Cree would find someone else to get the job done,
faster.

Point taken, Mr. Radek.

* * *

Cree ducked his head and walked purposefully toward hair and

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makeup. He hoped Evan liked the electronics he’d left. Cree
rationalized that they were items Evan would need for his job
anyway. Staying connected meant staying on top of the trends, and
that was every bit as important as managing his social calendar.

Someone screamed and shouted his name. He thought the

trolley had already gone by. Cree didn’t look up. He just wanted to
get to hair and makeup, where they’d probably complain about the
black eyeliner and the gel in his hair again.

He took the steps quickly and slipped inside the brightly lit

trailer.

“Mr. Radek. Over here please. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Susie had been on nearly every set with him. Because of that she
tended to treat him like a beloved nephew instead of a star.

He eased into the wide barber chair. He was spun and dipped,

warm water spraying to his scalp. He should just leave it undone,
but there was an image to uphold. It was like if they didn’t have
something to complain about, then he wasn’t doing his job as an
actor to satisfactorily piss people off.

“We’re trimming some length for the role.”
“It’s hair. It’ll grow back. Do what you gotta do.”
“Who’s the young man?” Susie asked.
Cree opened one eye to look at her. “My assistant.”
“He’s good-looking. Don’t you scare this one off.”
“Who are you, my mother?”
Susie shampooed his hair a second time. “Someone sure ought

to be. You have a new assistant every time we’re on set together.”

“They deserve to be scared off,” he informed her.
Susie harrumphed. “You send him over here when you leave.”
“Why?”
“So I can warn him of all your little tricks.”

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“I just bought him a computer,” Cree said.
“Cree Radek. You never just do anything.” She’d stopped

rinsing to put her wet hands on her hips and glare at him. “I know
you think I stay in this box for hair and makeup, but as many hours
a day as you sit in my chair when you’re on set, I’ve learned a
thing or two.”

Cree frowned. “And what might those two things be?”
“You aren’t as tough as you act. You’re a decent man at heart,

despite all the stay-away-from-me kohl you wear.”

He studied her for a long moment. He smiled grudgingly.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

She winked at him. “You just be sure to bring me that new

assistant. You need one that will stick around when you’re acting
surly. If he knows to rough it through to the other side, just maybe
I’ll see this one on the next set we have together.”

Cree sat up. Susie rubbed his head with a towel, wrapped it and

then began clearing his face of eyeliner.

“I know you mean well. Don’t go talking to Evan,” he said

earnestly.

Susie sighed. She shook her head like she didn’t understand

why he was being so contrary. “All right, Mr. Radek. But if you
fire that boy before the end of next week, you’ll answer to me. You
are far too busy to be training assistants right and left.”

“Yes, ma’am.”
Appeased, Susie hummed as she went back to work.
Cree’s co-star, Eliza White, sat beside him. “Hey, Cree, I’m so

excited to get started today. Aren’t you?”

Cree’s gaze met Susie’s in the mirror. Susie smiled her

amusement. Looked like there was something else Susie knew
about him. He hated chatter.

ACTING OUT

* * *

By the time the shoot wrapped for the day, Evan could barely

hold his eyes open. He followed Cree to the sedan where their
driver waited. Cree got in. Evan and the driver loaded the trunk
with gadgetry. Evan crawled into the backseat beside Cree, who sat
patiently with his legs crossed.

“Done?” Cree asked.
In so many ways, Evan agreed silently. For Cree, he nodded

abruptly. Resting his head back, Evan closed his eyes. He’d been
here a week, but he was no closer to finding the answers to his
questions. God, it was enough to make his head throb. Or that
could have just been the vibration of his skull as his head dropped
against the window.

Cree sat silently and Evan felt the inevitable pull into sleep,

numbing his ears to nothing more than the rhythm of his own
breathing. What seemed like moments later, a large warm hand
curled over his forearm.

“Walker. We’re home.”
Evan turned toward the low, husky voice. He smiled and

opened his eyes. Cree leaned over, his clear blue eyes shocking in
their vibrancy. Evan startled. Amusement flitted over Cree’s face
and his lips twisted into a secretive smile.

He sat back, caught the door latch on his side and scooted

toward the opening. “Your lips pucker in your sleep,” Cree told
him right before he exited.

Evan’s face burned. They did? He hurried from the car and

stood at the trunk.

“Driver, see that the boxes are put inside the house. I don’t

want sleeping beauty there to work too hard.” Cree casually

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climbed the front steps.

Evan frowned at his back. “Cree,” he called.
Cree paused at the top step. He turned, looking expectedly back

at him with his eyebrows lifted.

“There isn’t a day I don’t bust my ass to make sure your life

runs smoothly.” Evan hoisted the totes over his shoulders and
grabbed the stacked boxes from the driver’s hands. “If my best
isn’t good enough, then let me know, so I can stop wasting my
time.”

Cree’s smile widened. “That’s the spirit.” He took the steps in

two loping strides and disappeared inside.

“What the fuck was that?” Evan snapped.
The driver shrugged. “You got everything?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”
The driver pulled away as Evan faced the steps. What did Cree

mean by that’s the spirit? What kind of asshole said shit like that
when he was getting the riot act from an employee?

Evan got a grip on his temper and trudged the collection of

electronics back to the office he’d been given. The entire lower
wing was his, technically. He’d thought it strange, at first, that
Cree wanted his employee living in house with him. Then he
realized just how often Cree called on him to do stuff that wouldn’t
fall inside normal business hours. Evan might not have to pay rent,
but the tradeoff was payment made.

Cree knocked on the smoky glass of the office door. “I’m going

to need you to run lines with me.”

Well, that’s something new. “Any scene in particular?”
“Yeah. All of them.”
It was late. They’d been at the set all day. Evan really wanted a

shower, a big fluffy robe, and the silence of his bedroom. He didn’t

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even feel like checking the personal messages from home. He
knew his mom wasn’t happy he’d come to Hollywood. But he’d
come, and he’d stay, until he’d done what he’d needed to do.

“When?” Evan asked.
“Five minutes.” Cree pushed away from the doorframe he’d

been leaning on.

“I need a shower, about thirty minutes to decompress, and

some dinner.”

Cree lifted his brows at him. It was the same oh, really look

he’d been given on the steps when Evan snapped at him. “Talking
back is becoming something of a habit for you,” he noted.

“Please?”
“I’ll call for Indian food. That’ll give you about forty-five

minutes. Enough?”

Evan nodded. Cree left. Working for the famous Cree Radek

was challenging already, but with exchanges like that one, and the
long hours he kept, it felt more like ten years. He’d never met
anyone back home who had behaved like such a dick before. Cree
Radek wasn’t normal though. He was Hollywood royalty. He was
sexy and talented and had those great lips.

Evan was annoyed with himself. Those great lips said a lot of

irritating shit, too. If ever there were a case for a man to be more
than his looks, it was Cree. He looked like a dark angel. He
behaved like a spoiled, sullen, little brat. Damn that Evan kind of
liked it.

Moving down the short hallway to Evan’s expansive suite, he

calculated just how long it would take him to finish up in
California. He needed more money, money he was earning every
day he stayed here as an assistant. Besides, working for Cree gave
him the access to rub elbows with Hollywood, and that was

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definitely part of the plan.

Grudgingly, he admitted that even being dragged to the set

every day would help him reach his goal. And once he had his in,
once he’d found that deadbeat, family-deserting man who’d
spawned him, all bets were off.

ACTING OUT

CHAPTER 2

Cree paced the white marble great room. His bare feet chilled

against the cool surface and he glanced again down the hall where
Evan lived. If he didn’t appear soon, the delivery guy would be
here with dinner and Cree would have to go out and get the food
himself.

He scrubbed a shaking hand over his face. He didn’t know

what bothered him more. That he had a sexy, unapproachable
assistant currently naked and soaking wet about a hundred yards
away, or that he’d have to face the possibility of paparazzi
shooting pictures of him collecting his dinner.

Did that shit actually sell magazines? Anxiety tightened a fist

in his chest. They were a menace. Always in his business. Always
looking for a story that didn’t exist. Always trying to follow him

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such that driving had become too dangerous. They were the reason
he employed a driver.

Cree took a breath, ready to call out for dependable, capable

Evan, but Evan beat him to it. His bedroom door opened and he
stepped out. Cree immediately felt himself calm.

The other man’s hair had been rubbed semi-dry into spikes. He

looked freshly scrubbed. His lean hips and long legs were covered
in the most worn pair of gray sweatpants Cree had ever seen. They
molded his thighs perfectly and looked incredibly soft to the touch.
His faded gray Ball State T-shirt, having lost its form years ago,
draped thinly over his chest and tight abdomen.

Bare feet lightly slapped the floor as he approached Cree. It

took all his willpower not to wrap his arms around Evan and hold
him close, breathing in his scent, feeling his comfortable warmth,
and hoping he could talk his new assistant right into his bedroom.

The chime saved him. “Dinner’s here. There’s cash on the front

table. Bring dinner into the living room.”

“Indian curry in a room loaded with white furniture?” Evan

questioned.

“Are you planning on spilling?” Cree walked to the bank of

windows overlooking Malibu Beach. Watching Evan walk away
from him and getting a vivid look at his tight ass and surprisingly
wide shoulders, was too much temptation. You didn’t fuck your
assistant in Hollywood. White collar types in bread-basket
America could get away with it, but in Hollywood everyone knew
your business before you did.

A few minutes later the front door closed and Evan’s bare feet

padded over the marble into the living room. Cree waited for the
crinkle of plastic to stop, hearing the distinctive sounds of
containers being lifted from the rattling bag and placed on the glass

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coffee table.

It sounded like Evan wadded up the bags and his steps faded

off to the right behind him. Cree refocused on the reflection of his
house in the large windows. Evan came back holding two soda
cans in one hand and a compliment of plates, cutlery, and napkins
in the other.

Cree smiled. It had taken his last assistant three months to

know what he’d want to drink, or to intuit that he’d want one. It
had taken Evan only two hours.

Cree watched him approach, set down the plates and one of the

drinks. He popped the top on the second one and moved to stand
patiently behind Cree. Their gazes met in the reflection. Neither
man flinched.

“I picked up another copy of the script for you today. Make

whatever notes in it that you need.” Cree turned, took his drink,
and walked to the couch where he instead sat on the floor in front
of the table.

Evan followed, sitting on the floor beside him.
“We’re going over the scene where Johnny is about to ask

Pippa on a date, but Pippa starts gushing about Eric.” Evan
scooped yellow rice onto his plate, then covered it with chicken
tikka marsala. He pulled free a piece of naan. He licked his fingers
and held the container of bread to Evan.

Evan handed him a napkin, then served himself, too. He passed

silverware to Cree just as Cree scanned the tabletop to find it.
Perfect synch. It made him smile.

“Page?” Evan asked.
“Forty-three. Use inflection when you deliver the lines.”
The men silently flipped to the correct spot, sneaking in a

mouthful of food.

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Cree put the script aside and jumped right in. “Pippa, we’ve

been friends for a while now.”

“Oh. You started already.” Evan scanned the page, his finger

tracing the lines until he found it.

“Pippa, we’ve been friends for a while now,” Cree began again.
“Are you kidding? Since the womb, practically.”
“We pretty much tell each other everything. All our secrets.

Things we don’t tell other people…”

“This is about Eric isn’t it?” Evan-Pippa announced

uncomfortably.

“Not really.”
“Because I was going to tell you, I swear. It’s just that he

finally asked me out! Can you believe it? I’ve been working for the
man for eight years and now, now he sees me? Pippa gives a girlie
squeal,” Evan intoned.

“You could just squeal instead of reading the stage directions,”

Cree said.

“I don’t squeal.”
Cree snorted his soda. It burned and he grabbed a napkin to

hold over his face. His eyes watered and he started coughing.

“You going to live?” Evan asked, roughly slapping Cree’s

back.

Cree tried to answer but he couldn’t catch his breath to say

more than, “Burns.”

“I bet. Hot Indian curry and carbonated beverage were never

meant for inhalation.”

Cree laughed between coughs. He dragged a piece of naan

through the Kashmiri sauce and pushed the morsel into Evan’s
mouth to shut him up. Evan’s lips closed around Cree’s finger tips.
The barest flicker of tongue swept the underside of his pointer

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finger.

Cree’s mouth dried up on the spot. He pulled his fingers free

and wiped them on his napkin as he purposefully redirected
attention to the script. Then taking another drink, he found the next
line.

“Johnny’s face falls, and he pauses for a moment before he

says, ‘Eric, huh?’”

“Or you could act the stage directions instead of reading them,”

Evan teased, throwing Cree’s words back at him.

Cree felt his face heat in a rare blush. “Place finding,” he

explained hurriedly.

“Ri-iight.”

* * *

Had that been a moment, Evan wondered? It was hard to tell. It

passed so quickly. What was he thinking? Cree Radek didn’t give
moments to mere mortals. And why should he? Evan worked for
him. They were just running lines and, in all fairness, Evan had
been the one to forget that arrangement. He’d been the one trying
to tease Cree with some tongue play.

It was good he’d pulled his fingers out when he had. Curry, and

he suspected any food, tasted better when licked off Cree. If he’d
delayed even a second longer, Evan would have given into
temptation and sucked those digits. A finger blow.

God, he’d almost slipped up. He couldn’t lose this job. Not yet.

Not when he was so close to finding his scumbag father. He
needed Cree and his connections. He couldn’t blow this, or Cree,
for that matter.

Evan’s full cock was becoming uncomfortable. In his old

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sweats, it wouldn’t take much for Cree to notice the inappropriate
bulge going on. Evan shifted carefully, placing the script over his
lap to lay open while they ate and ran lines. It seemed like a natural
placement. Maybe Cree wouldn’t notice.

They worked for another two hours, finally calling it quits

around midnight.

“Let’s hit the sack,” Cree announced, his voice rasping with the

same fatigue Evan felt. “We’re leaving for the set at five.”

“In the morning?” Evan asked stupidly.
Cree cracked a smile, stretching those perfect lips over equally

perfect teeth. They had to have been whitened. No one had a smile
that bright. He found himself staring at Cree’s mouth wishing it
would come just a little closer.

“Run lines with me while I’m in makeup tomorrow.”
“At five in the morning,” Evan stated rather than asked.
Cree looked at him, humor still dancing in his eyes as he tipped

his head to the side slightly. “And wear your hair like that.”

“At five in the morning?”
“You can say it as many times as you want. It doesn’t suddenly

mean something different.”

Evan struggled to his feet. “Actors are insane,” he muttered. He

looked down at the dinner mess.

Cree rose beside him. “Leave it. The maid will take care of it

tomorrow.”

“That’s kind of gross isn’t it?”
“No. We ate it all. Now we have about four hours to sleep

before we’re up doing today over again. That’s why I hire maid
service to take care of stuff like this. I hired you to take care of me.
That doesn’t include windows and dishes. So take care of me. Be
ready at five tomorrow.”

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Cree strolled his loose hipped gait to the open-sided staircase

that led to his room. “Oh and, Walker?”

“Yeah?”
“We’ll be having days like this for the next three months.

Maybe even eight months if we keep the same pace on location.”

Cree was the king of throwing statements over his shoulder and

not waiting to see if there was fallout. Evan groaned under his
breath. Lord help him. Enough days like this and he’d be too tired
to keep himself in check around Cree. Evan needed to step up his
search, because the moment he made the mistake of coming on to
Cree in earnest, he’d be fired and there would be no money to
support his search in Hollywood.

* * *

A week later, Evan’s phone buzzed. He looked down at it

expecting to see his mother’s number. Instead, it was the number
of a gripper who’d worked on set with his dad a year ago.
Hurriedly, he took the call.

“Evan Walker,” he answered.
“Hi. Are you the guy who called about David Fowler?”
Cree stepped into the trailer. The pit of Evan’s stomach

dropped sickeningly. He didn’t want to take this call with Cree
hanging around, but hanging up on this guy after finally tracking
down someone who’d worked with Evan’s dad wasn’t something
he could bring himself to do either.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he answered vaguely.
“Well, my buddy told me I should call you back. He says you

work for Cree Radek.”

“I do, does that matter?”

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“’Course it does. Cree Radek doesn’t hire idiots.”
“Good to know.” Evan caught the curious glances from his

boss. He turned his back, using Cree’s tote as an excuse to break
eye contact. He dug out a bottle of water and tossed it to Cree.

Cree caught it easily. “Who’s that?”
“Just someone.”
“Usually. Unless you’ve taken to talking to dead air,” Cree

joked.

“So, can what can you tell me?” Evan asked the man on the

phone.

“I worked with him. He got into some trouble on set, though.

Always had a flask on him, if you know what I mean.”

“Walker, when you’re done?” Cree asked dryly.
Evan nodded at him. “I just need a minute,” he whispered. To

the man on the phone, he murmured acknowledgment. “I know
what you mean.”

“So,” and Evan could almost hear the shrug in his voice, “he

was escorted off the set about halfway through filming. That’s it.”

“Do you know where to find him?”
“He turns up. You want me to give him this number if I see

him?”

“No, but call me and let me know where to go,” Evan said.
The guy laughed. “That’s a loaded one, ain’t it?”
Evan laughed, too, although the joke didn’t strike him as funny.
He’d already been in hell. So had his family, because of the

asshole who’d impregnated an underage girl and left her to raise a
son alone. There’d be retribution and even if the State of California
couldn’t find him to force him into back child support, Evan owed
it to his mother to make sure he did. She’d deserved so much better
than she’d gotten.

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“If you know anyone else that can tell me anything, pass my

number along,” Evan told him.

“I’ll do that.” There was a pause. “Mr. Walker, I’m always

looking for side work. If you hear that a company needs to hire a
gripper, or a camera man ’cause I do both, do me a solid.”

“I’ll look today,” Evan agreed.
“Thanks, man.”
Evan disconnected and slipped his phone in his pocket. “Do we

need to run lines again?”

“What was that about?” Cree asked.
“Personal business.”
“Sounds like you’re looking for somebody.”
How much should Evan tell him? Over the past week, he’d

discovered that Cree disguised a lot of his thoughts with silence.
But if he listened closely to the questions Cree asked, or the things
he did, it told him more than a heartfelt confession ever would.

Like now. If he took that question at face value, which it could

be, Cree was being nosy and perhaps a little territorial about Evan
using business hours for personal phone calls. But it didn’t have
that feeling behind it.

Instead of answering Evan’s business directed question about

returning to lines, Cree had deliberately refocused on Evan. And
that told him that Cree saw a little too well how the phone call
affected Evan. Cree was showing concern.

Or at least he thought Cree was. It wasn’t an exact science, but

he did seem to read Cree better now than when he’d first been
hired.

“You can tell me, Evan. I could help you.”
Evan’s ears rushed. In the two weeks he’d worked side-by-side

with Cree, he’d never called him anything but Walker. Evan had

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followed his lead, only calling Cree “Mr. Radek.”

He liked the way Cree’s lips formed his name, the flash of

white teeth pressing Cree’s bottom lip before sliding out of view.

“What makes you think I need help?” Evan asked, fixated on

Cree’s mouth to see if he’d use his name again.

“I know you get calls. That’s the first one you didn’t end the

minute I walked in the room. That call was important.”

Looked like Cree had learned a few things about Evan when he

wasn’t looking. Cree closed the distance between them. Evan felt
suddenly naked. Not only did Cree look at him like he could see
inside Evan’s head, but Evan had nothing to occupy his hands.
Nothing he could pretend was more interesting than the man
closing the distance between them.

“Maybe,” Evan said, hoping that would satisfy Cree’s curiosity

and put them back on track for work. Anything to keep Cree from
getting close enough to see how badly Evan wanted to kiss that
gorgeous mouth and say stupid things about how pretty his eyes
are.

“Maybe you’ll let me help, or maybe you’ll tell me who you’re

looking for?” Cree asked. “I have connections.”

He knew Cree had connections. While he’d needed the job to

pay for the search and living expenses, and to get access to the
movers and shakers in Hollywood, he hadn’t been angling to take
advantage of star-power.

“Just maybe,” Evan said.
It was possibly the dumbest thing he could have answered,

because it inadvertently issued a challenge to Cree to uncover the
secret. Evan should have just told him, but he’d been harboring
this mission, of sorts, for long enough that the outcome really
mattered to him. Like a dog with a bone, he wasn’t ready to share

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it. It was his burden, his fight, his pain, his life. None of those
things involved Cree Radek.

Cree stopped a foot from Evan. It was too close. God, just way

too close. He cocked his head, and hands on his hips, he simply
stared at Evan.

Close in height, Evan couldn’t even use that as an excuse to

look anywhere else. Besides, with Cree in front of him, why would
he want to look anywhere else?

“I’d help you,” Cree said finally.
“I know.”
Cree nodded slowly. “When you’re ready to ask, the offer

stands.”

“What other offer will stand?” Evan could have smacked

himself.

Cree’s brows did the trademark lift. “What are you asking?”
“Nothing,” Evan choked out nervously.

ACTING OUT

CHAPTER 3

Cree studied Evan’s usually flat expression. The call had

shaken Evan. Cree felt a little disappointment that after working
together and getting to know each other, Evan still wouldn’t open
up. There were so many things he kept hidden under that stony
mask.

Evan’s expressions rarely faltered. Only a few times, when

Cree had deliberately set out to rile him, had Evan’s facade
slipped. He thought he’d seen other moments, when fatigue
weakened his guard, but they’d been fleeting.

Cree was ready to crack. He’d thought Evan was hot, but thank

God Evan had never fully relaxed. Cree’s resolve to keep him at
arm’s length would have buckled.

But as he looked into Evan’s eyes now, he didn’t dare back

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away. In the span of ten minutes he’d seen more real emotion play
through those deep brown eyes than he’d seen in two weeks. It was
like a drug holding him intoxicated. A window into Evan’s soul he
rarely showed. Cree wanted to absorb it all before Evan tucked it
away into hiding again.

“Not nothing,” Cree countered, hoping he read Evan’s

expression correctly.

“No, it is. It’s nothing,” Evan rushed flippantly. He took a step

to the side.

Cree caught Evan’s upper arm, holding him still. Both their

gazes went to Cree’s hand. He’d never touched Evan before, and
Evan seemed just as surprised as Cree was.

“Ask me anything you want,” Cree encouraged.
Evan laughed in a short, quiet burst. “I don’t think so. I like my

job.”

Cree had been looking for signals from Evan, almost fearfully.

He’d been watching to see if Evan would be receptive and nervous
about the answer either way. Evan was normal. He had a normal
life, if a somewhat abnormal job. Cree felt some responsibility in
protecting it.

Cree was judicious about the people he kept near him. He liked

Evan probably more than he should. But Evan was good people.
Cree didn’t want to corrupt him with the limelight that seemed to
invade everything in Hollywood. So far it hadn’t, but if Evan were
receptive to dating Cree, it would.

Still, Cree had to know. Was there a chance that Evan might

feel something normal and whole for Cree?

Cree picked his words carefully, watching Evan closely for

how they were received. “Did you want to expand your duties?”

A flutter of a smile touched Evan’s lips. “You mean I don’t

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already do it all?”

“You do,” Cree acknowledged grudgingly. “Are you asking to

fill my social calendar?”

Evan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I already schedule your social

calendar. You have a party coming up tomorrow night.”

“You’ll be there with me,” Cree said.
“Okay.”
Cree sighed, exasperated. He wasn’t getting his point across as

all. Yet getting his point across clearly meant going against his
instinct to protect Evan’s Hollywood innocence. Did he care?
Yeah, he did. Did he still want to kiss Evan anyway? Fuck, yes.

“Just ask me, Evan,” Cree insisted.
Evan’s gaze fell on Cree’s lips. It was the only permission he

needed. Cree stepped up, pulling Evan’s arm toward himself as he
did so. Their chests bumped, and though it wasn’t hard enough to
do anything, Evan exhaled sharply at the contact.

“Good,” Cree murmured. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, you did.” Cree grinned.
He leaned in, savoring the look of surprise on Evan’s face

when their lips touched. Evan gave a low moan, and pulled away
almost immediately, leaving Cree confused.

“I—don’t want that,” Evan said not looking certain.
Cree let him go. His stomach flipped even though they’d barely

touched before Evan had turned him down.

“I’m sorry.” Evan’s gaze darted away.
“Don’t apologize. I read your signals wrong.” Cree tried to

shrug it off but he did taste the bile of disappointment at the back
of his tongue.

“No, actually, you didn’t. It’s just not a good idea.”

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So Evan did want him, he just didn’t want to want him. Not

confusing at all. Cree backed up, then turned on his heel to pick up
his tote and water bottle. “You’re right.”

“If the circumstances were different—”
“I get it.” Cree cut him off. “I have to hit the set. Work out

whatever you need to. My offer to help, holds.”

“Thanks, Mr. Radek.”
Cree felt his mouth twist oddly at the sound of his last name.

That bitterness he tasted only seemed sharper. “Forget it.”

* * *

Evan was still kicking himself for not kissing Cree as the day

wore down. His thoughts kept returning to that moment. He could
have at least gotten into it before calling it off. The feel of Cree’s
mouth barely brushing over his before Evan freaked out wouldn’t
leave him alone.

He’d fucked up. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, only

Evan really wanted to do. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would
have. Then he’d have regretted it later, which at this moment, Evan
was okay with. Any additional time on those lips would have been
worth the self-recrimination later.

His phone rang. The number didn’t register a contact he knew,

but he took the call anyway.

“Mr. Walker, I’m Pete Givens from Givens Private

Investigators. Mr. Radek hired me to be of service to you. He says
you need to find someone?”

Evan pinched the bridge of his nose. It was really hard to make

yourself objectify someone who believed in random acts of
kindness. “Does Mr. Radek have access to any information you

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find for me?”

“He would, except he specifically declined. He told me to call

you, take care of whatever you needed, and bill him.”

“Wow.”
“Mr. Radek—he’s a good guy.”
“Yeah, he really is,” Evan agreed.
“So, who’re you lookin’ for and where was he last seen?”
“Uh, I’m looking for David Fowler. My father.”
“What can you tell me?”
“He left Huntington, Indiana twenty-eight years ago and landed

in Hollywood.” Evan completed the portion of his father’s profile
that he knew, including the recent information he’d gleaned earlier
that day from the gripper. “That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.”

“It’ll be enough to get started. I’ll call you in a few days. If you

find out anything more, call me so I can follow up on the lead.”

He thanked Pete and continued staring at his phone long after

they’d hung up. It was a damn good thing Cree wasn’t in the trailer
with him now, because Evan would have forgotten every
reservation and tackled the man to the floor.

Except Evan wasn’t that lucky. Cree shut the trailer door

behind him. “Hey, you ready to head home?”

“Yeah,” Evan said roughly.
“You look funny.”
Evan grinned. He held up his phone. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“Pete Givens.”
Cree snorted. “Sure.” He motioned for Evan to grab his laptop

and waited by the door with his hand on the light switch. “So, are
you going to be up for line running tonight?”

“Sure,” he said mimicking Cree.

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Cree tugged on a couple of strategic hair spikes, possibly

straightening them. “Good, We’re jumping order to shoot the final
scene tomorrow, while were still in the studio. I wouldn’t want to
crowd your comfort zone.”

“Why would it?” Evan asked walking over.
“It’s the romantic resolution.”
“Ah,” Evan murmured. “So there’s, like, kissing and stuff in

it.”

“I just need the lines. I can handle the kissing.”
Evan dropped his bag. He slid a hand behind Cree’s neck and

tugged him closer. Evan lifted his chin, fitting their mouths neatly
together. He felt the floor shake as Cree’s tote hit the floor, too.

Cree’s mouth was made for kissing, Evan decided. It smoothed

across his own, and when Evan tested the barrier with the tip of his
tongue, Cree opened readily, a soft sound humming at the back of
his throat.

Evan curled his other arm around Cree’s waist. Their hips and

chests bumped together as Cree held him close. Cree tasted like
mint and clove, those dumb fake cigarettes he had to smoke for the
role, but on Cree it was exotic and sexy as hell.

The kiss broke and Evan bent to retrieve their bags, holding

Cree’s up for him.

Cree’s lips were puffy and moist, and tipped in a quizzical

smile. “Thanks,” he said, taking the bag.

“Mind if I make dinner tonight?” Evan asked.
Cree held the trailer door open for him to pass. “You cook,

too?”

“I do when I’m nervous.”
Cree chuckled. “After that kiss, I’m the one who should be

nervous.”

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Evan’s gaze fell on Cree’s lips, then traveled up to his bright

blue eyes, now shaded with evening darkness. “You haven’t been
nervous a day in your life.”

* * *

Cree hoisted himself up on the kitchen’s center island. He

hooked his hands over the edge and watched Evan search his
kitchen for different ingredients. Occasionally, he told him where
to find things, but only when he actually knew where they were.
Cree wasn’t a cooker outside of the microwave and specially
catered frozen dinners.

“Wow, your kitchen kind of sucks,” Evan said after a few

minutes. “You have next to no spices, and besides the colorful
array of pasta, you don’t have any real food.”

“I’ll call for dinner. We’ll shop tomorrow.”
“No,” Evan said waving his words off. “I’m determined. You

have Earl Grey tea. I can use that with these frozen chicken
breasts. And I’ll figure something out with the pasta. How is it that
you don’t own any form of garlic?”

“I kiss a lot on set. Garlic breath isn’t appreciated.”
Evan snorted. “Use a toothbrush and mouthwash. I guarantee

you she isn’t being as considerate and I bet you’ve never noticed.”

“Selene Laramie is notorious for bad breath,” Cree countered.
“Does she know it’s bad or doesn’t she care?”
“None of the actors I know are brave enough to tell her. Even

tried going through her agent, but her agent is too afraid of her
fits.”

Evan wrinkled his nose. Cree liked the boyish look on him.

Cree liked a lot about the way Evan looked. He slid off the

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countertop.

“Need any help?” Cree asked.
Evan smiled. “The whole point of me cooking is to impress you

and work off some excess nerves. Having you work beside me
defeats the purpose.”

Cree couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m already impressed with

you, and there are a lot more creative ways to work off excess
nerves.”

“Do you know you do that eyebrow thing?” Evan asked

suddenly.

“What eyebrow thing?”
“The one that says you know you’re hot and you know that the

person looking at you wants to pounce?”

Cree laughed. The bold-faced honesty wasn’t something he

heard a lot of in Hollywood. Hurray for Midwestern men. He
grabbed Evan’s shoulders and drew him against his body. Evan’s
arms circled his waist.

“Is that a yes?” Evan pressed.
“I had no idea.”
Evan looked over his shoulder at the odd collection of dried

foods and frozen chicken breasts on the countertop.

“Fuck cooking. I’ve got another appetite I need taken care of.”
“Mister—”
“Evan, if you finish that statement, I’ll have to fire you. Mr.

Radek doesn’t fuck employees.”

“But Cree Radek wants me in his bed.” Evan finished for him.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I want you in my bed.”
Cree let him go to take his hand. Evan followed easily as they

climbed the steps to the upper level. Cree hadn’t let anyone up here
since he’d broken up with that starlet last year. She’d been using

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him to get ahead. He should have known from the calculating glint
in her eye. Evan didn’t have that glint.

Cree’s chest felt tight and his mouth seemed uncommonly dry.

Evan did that to him. He made Cree strangely giddy and a bit
terrified, if he was being honest with himself. Evan was real. A
real man giving his love had nothing to do with getting ahead in
Hollywood, especially when that man didn’t even like being on set.

An easy smile came to him as he looked at Evan’s back. Evan’s

head tipped up, taking in the massive scope of the room before
letting out a low whistle.

“This place is amazing,” Evan said.
“I’m more interested in the man.”
Evan turned, a sexy grin on his face. It did things to Cree’s

pulse, and suddenly he wasn’t so scared of letting his guard down.
Evan was just Evan. He wasn’t paparazzi. He wasn’t a grubby
agent. He wasn’t an actor trying to fuck him into blackmail.

Cree pulled his black T-shirt over his head and dropped it on

the floor. Taking hold of his leather and silver studded belt, he
loosened the closure and flipped open the top snap as he walked to
Evan. Evan’s gaze raked over Cree. Cree liked the way Evan
looked at him. He liked it a lot, and he held still for a moment,
feeling his gaze like a forbidden caress.

Evan unbuttoned his oxford shirt. It amused Cree to see his

white undershirt. It was just another reminder of how different
their worlds were. The differences made their connection that
much more important. They crossed barriers to be together, and
Cree felt distinctly like he was opening a package to the rest of his
life. The possibility of a relationship with Evan actually seemed
realistic, where before, Evan was way out of his league.

“Wait,” Cree said. “Let me.”

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Cree fisted the undershirt and carefully lifted it off and over.

Evan’s shy, boyish grin needed a kiss and Cree wasn’t inclined to
deny him. He hooked his fingers in the front of Evan’s jeans and
dragged him toward him.

“Bottom or top?” Cree asked.
“Your sweet talking needs work.”
“Top it is.”
This close, their noses lining each other, hiding his

vulnerability was impossible. He hoped Evan didn’t notice too
much, or if he did, that he didn’t comment. Cree’s reputation was
built on his tough appearance and inapproachability. He needed it.
It was his armor. Yet standing in front of Evan, their chests
touching as they swayed together, Evan had found a chink Cree
hadn’t known existed.

It wouldn’t take much for Evan to peel back the layers and see

just how much Cree needed to be seen by a man like Evan,
someone who wasn’t anything but what he appeared to be.

Evan kissed him first, taking his time to meld their lips together

in slick heaven. The soft catch and release was addictive, and Cree
closed his eyes to live in that moment. Evan stroked his arms,
cupped his ribs and trailed over the ridges there. It tickled in a way
that wasn’t the least bit funny.

Cree’s cock pressed insistently against his fly. The soothing

caress of Evan’s hands on his sides and chest, the seductive
softness of their mouths marrying, weakened Cree’s knees. He
moaned into Evan’s mouth and began his own exploration,
stroking Evan’s chest, sweeping the backs of his fingers on his
lower abdomen. He couldn’t seem to stop touching him.

Evan speared Cree’s hair, grabbing hold of the spikes at the

back. Then with a small nip, Evan punished Cree’s bottom lip until

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he gasped, parting his mouth for a new, deeper onslaught. Evan
held him still. His scalp pinched, but the roughness excited him,
reminded him all over again that Evan was different. Evan played
for real, and Cree felt insanely grateful for it.

Evan suckled his tongue, then plunged back in as though he

wanted to crawl inside Cree’s mouth. Evan ended the searing kiss.
He stared into Cree’s eyes for a moment, drowning Cree in a sea of
warm chocolate and stark desire.

“I’m not a guy who goes straight for the cock, typically,” Evan

began huskily. “Do you mind if I make an exception?”

Cree shook his head dumbly.
Evan dropped to his knees. He looked up at Cree beneath his

lashes while he finished loosening Cree’s pants and dragged them
to mid-thigh.

“Even your cock is gorgeous,” Evan murmured appreciatively.
He passed reverential fingertips along his length before tracing

the cock-rim. Then he smoothed the bead of pre-cum over the
sensitive head. Cree swayed. Evan cupped Cree’s balls, seeming to
test their weight.

“Hairless,” Evan stated.
Cree stroked the top of Evan’s head, wordlessly thankful for

the evident admiration on Evan’s face. His stomach flipped and he
found himself holding his breath to see what Evan did next. He
didn’t have to wait long.

Evan pressed his lips to Cree’s engorged tip. He parted and

Cree felt the wild flicker of wet tongue dancing over him. He
shuddered, gripped Evan’s head in both hands, and prayed he
wouldn’t embarrass himself by buckling at the knees.

When Evan moved to caress the back of Cree’s legs, tease the

crease between the top of his thighs and his ass, then firmly cupped

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the globes, Cree realized that whatever happened, he was a goner.
He only wanted Evan, his tender lover, the surprising find beneath
the assistant’s formal veneer.

Had there ever been another man as perfect as Evan?
“Cree,” Evan called to him. “Look at me.”
The command was softly spoken, but its gentleness came from

need Cree couldn’t deny because it mirrored his own. Cree opened
his eyes, staring down into Evan’s, and Evan squeezed his ass and
drew Cree into his mouth.

“What are you doing to me, Evan?” Cree’s question didn’t

need an answer. He heard it in the muffled dreamy quality of a
man distracted and intoxicated by what was happening.

Evan’s tongue cradled the underside of Cree’s cock as he sank

on it. Pulling off, Evan’s cheeks hollowed. The pressure was
exquisite and Cree could no more stop from groaning than he
could make the world stop spinning. There was nothing but Evan’s
eyes and Evan’s mouth holding Cree in place.

Evan worked over him, drawing the tenuous line of sanity and

mindlessness taut, coiling it tighter and tighter until Cree’s balls
tingled. His ass clenched as he held on, but once Evan began
working the base of Cree’s dick while sucking on the head, Cree
exploded into an orgasmic race that had no brakes.

Evan pumped and sucked relentlessly. His gaze clouded over,

but continued to hold Cree’s. Cree tried to hold himself steady, but
Evan’s mouth beckoned with hot acceptance. Gripping Evan’s
head, Cree flexed into each pull, and suddenly the line frayed and
Cree’s hips moved on their own, fucking Evan’s luscious mouth.

When the humming started, vibrated through his cock,

whatever self-control Cree thought he still had, fractured. It was
the sudden push of a finger in his ass that took Cree crashing into

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orgasm. He shouted, riding the wave as hot cum sprayed thickly
down Evan’s throat. Evan took it, swallowing, hummed his
approval until Cree’s final spasms left him spent.

Evan pulled off his cock. He smiled up at Cree as he took a

thumb and casually rubbed the moisture from the corners of his
lips.

“You’re a yeller,” Evan teased. “For a guy who doesn’t talk

much, you sure make a lot of noise coming.”

Cree was still breathing like he’d run a race. He needed Evan

inside him. He just hoped Evan wasn’t going to make him wait too
long. He pulled off his pants to get the point across.

“Get in bed,” Cree commanded. Cree turned toward the

bathroom to get the condoms and lube.

Evan hauled him backward against his jean-clad arousal.

“Don’t make me wait too long, Cree.” As though to make his point
stick, he slipped two fingers between Cree’s ass cheeks to tease his
hole.

ACTING OUT

CHAPTER 4

Evan watched the finely pampered ass walk away from him.

There was something to be said for hard muscle and soft skin
pampered by spa treatments. His hands had glided over Cree, kind
of like the way his cock had glided like silk between Evan’s lips.
There would definitely need to be a replay.

He shucked his clothes and climbed onto the bed. Should he

push the sheets down? He decided not to, since loose sheets always
seemed to get trapped between slick bodies. He didn’t want any
interruptions when he finally entered Cree.

God, he could hardly believe he was going to. Hell, he could

hardly believe Cree had let him suck him off. Hollywood royalty
and Evan had been permitted to polish his wood.

As he thought the words, his mind balked. It had been so much

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more than getting off. His smile faltered. When this thing was
over, and Evan was sure it would end soon, it would be better to
pretend fucking hadn’t been so much fun with Cree.

They didn’t have a future anyway. Not really. How could he

have a lasting relationship with an actor? Who’d want to risk that?
There was only now and making their sexual encounters as
fantastic as possible, because that’s all they had.

When David Fowler was located and Evan found a lawyer to

slap a subpoena on him, Evan was heading back to Indiana. He had
loose ends to tie up and a mother to make sure never needed to
work another day in her life. Evan wouldn’t let her unless she
wanted to. She’d held three jobs and missed out of college because
of David. She deserved to take the rest of her life easy, and Evan
was going to see to it.

Cree came back with a bottle of lube and several condoms. He

dropped all but one condom and the lube on the nightstand and
brought the others to the bed. Evan grabbed him by the wrist and
hauled him down. His tug knocked Cree off balance, and instead of
hitting the bed, Cree sprawled on top of Evan.

He wrapped Cree close, daring to be familiar with the man

who’d been nothing but his boss until tonight. Grab life by the
horns. Grab Cree by the cock. Live for the moment.

Evan smiled at him. “I love your eyes.”
“I love your smile. You scowl too much.”
“I’ll stop scowling,” Evan promised. “If you begin every day

with a kiss.”

“What will you do if I begin every day with a fuck?” Cree

asked.

“Pretty much anything you want.”
“You do that now.”

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“Yeah, but I’ll get to see your come face and that’ll just make

me want to keep you happy so I can jump your ass at the next
available moment,” Evan reasoned.

“Speaking of my ass.” Cree reached between them to fondle

Evan’s shaft.

Evan nipped his shoulder. “Tease.”
“You have hair,” Cree breathed.
He moved down Evan’s body, drawing first one nipple, then

the other, into his mouth. Evan bit his lip to keep from moaning.
He was almost afraid to move or make noise in case Cree stopped.
Cree had gotten off, after all. It wasn’t like he had to let Evan fuck
him. That he seemed to want it, definitely filled Evan’s cock to
capacity.

Cree kissed his way down, nuzzling Evan’s balls when he got

there.

“Cree?”
Cree dragged the flat of his tongue over Evan’s sac.
“Are you one of those guys who thinks that gay sex is jacking

each other off, or taking turns cock sucking?”

Cree pushed up, his brows lifted.
“Cut it out.”
“What?” Cree asked.
“The eyebrow thing. Quit it and come back up here,” Evan told

him.

“Do I have to? I was just getting to know this gorgeous slab of

beef down here.”

Evan chuckled. “Shake hands later. Hell, give it a kiss of

brotherhood later. Right now, I want to fuck your ass before you
change your mind.”

Cree’s expression grew serious. He climbed up Evan, hovering

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over him when he stopped. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

Evan wrapped his legs around Cree’s hips and flipped him. It

wasn’t a sexy flip, but it got the job done. He saw the amusement
in Cree’s eyes, and dived in to kiss it away. He wanted Cree’s eyes
filled with need, not laughter. He needed to carry the look in his
memories for the day they walked away from each other.

“Ready?” Evan asked.
Nudging Cree’s legs apart, Evan knelt between his thighs. He

groped for the lube and readied the condom, which he put
unwrapped on Cree’s belly. Then, still distracting him with kisses,
Evan stroked his fingertips over Cree’s ass.

By the time Cree was ready, his hips were pushing into Evan’s

probing fingers. Evan pressed the condom covered tip of his cock
to Cree’s ass. Cree bore down on him, and Evan sucked in sharply
as furnace heat enveloped his head.

Cree didn’t seem to want to slow down, so watching his face

closely, Evan flexed his hips, sliding his cock home. Cree lifted a
leg, and Evan hooked it over his shoulder. He did the same with
the other leg, shuddering as his balls pressed exposed ass.

“You feel so good,” Cree said on a moan.
His black glam eyeliner had smudged, but it only served to

make his sexy eyes smokier. And for some reason the smudging
also made Evan feel like he’d undone Cree. That he’d broken the
Hollywood image and seen the real man as who he was beneath the
perfect look. God, it was hot.

“I think you stole my line,” Evan protested.
Cree laughed breathlessly.
Evan moved in him. It was just as silky smooth as the rest of

Cree’s body. He glided into Cree, felt every involuntary squeeze of
his tight ring on Evan’s cock. Cree remembered Evan’s request to

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look at him, and their eyes locked, inches away between kisses.

When Evan ground deep, he angled himself to hit Cree’s

prostate. He was already hard again and Evan looked down
between them to see the way the other man’s thickened cock
vibrated on each thrust.

“Are you close?” Evan asked him.
“Yeah.”
“Jack off for me.”
Cree took himself in his hand and worked his cock. Evan

pounded his ass as he looked on. He was close, too, but he wanted
to see Cree shoot first. He needed to see Cree shoot.

Cree’s grunts came in time with each tug to his cock.
“Fuck, yeah. Do it, Cree. Let me see your load.”
Cree’s eyes slitted, his neck arched, each tendon going tight as

his mouth hung open in loud groaning pants. Evan pulled out and
slammed in.

“Do it. Show me your sweet cum while I’m in your ass,” Evan

commanded.

Cree’s head pressed into the pillow. With a sharp cry, cum

sprayed thickly over Evan’s chest. It was exactly what Evan
needed. Two more thrusts and he hissed as he filled the condom,
his full attention on Cree’s parted, perfect lips.

Evan gently shrugged off Cree’s legs. They hit the mattress

hard and Cree laughed. It wasn’t often that Evan got to see him
that relaxed and easy. It was a good look for him. Evan leaned
down and kissed his neck.

“I’m going to be sore for a week,” Cree mock-complained.
“Or longer, depending on how long you want this to run.”
Cree’s brows drew together slightly. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, movie star Cree Radek just let his nobody assistant

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fuck him. How long before the paparazzi gets wind of this and
denials get issued?”

“I don’t share my personal life.”
“Neither do I, but you’re a public figure.”
Cree rolled away from him. Evan scrambled to hold onto the

base of his condom. He sighed and went to the bathroom to clean
up. The bright bathroom lighting, compounded by the skylight
high overhead, made a stark contrast from the lush, dark tones of
the bedroom. Evan turned on the tap and washed up.

“I just mean that public figures aren’t always in control of the

information that gets out there,” Evan said.

Cree appeared at the doorway, leaning against the frame on one

hand. “There has to be a leak first. Are you planning on being a
leak?”

“No.” Evan’s exasperation sharpened his tone.
He wetted a cranberry colored washcloth and handed it to Cree.

Then he shook water droplets off his hands, turned off the faucet,
and dried them on the thick matching towel.

“Besides, if we have a thing going on, don’t you think people

might notice after a while?” Evan added.

“No, I don’t.”
“Then what happens if I screw up? I’m not used to public

scrutiny.”

“But you’re a master at regulating your features. Regulate them

in public,” Cree finished. He tossed the used washcloth on the
countertop and walked back to the bedroom.

Evan followed him. “Why am I the bad guy all the sudden?”
Cree looked at him flatly. All the tenderness of mere minutes

ago had vanished.

“What? I’m being realistic.”

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“You’re being a dick,” Cree countered. He pulled a clean shirt

from his dresser and put it on. Foregoing underwear, he dragged on
his black jeans.

Evan stalked to him. “You’re the one who’s fucking with my

head.”

Cree’s gaze dropped to Evan’s head.
“At least give me some credit for understanding how things

work.”

“Please, share with the class,” Cree snapped.
“I’m not expecting anything from you. Nothing. I’ve been here

long enough to see the life you have to lead. Parties, women, men,
contracts, long nights and quick mornings, shoots, publicity
appearances, interviews—you name it, you have to do it.”

“And?”
“You don’t have to coddle me or worry about hurt feelings. I

get it. You can’t commit, especially to someone who isn’t in the
biz. Especially to someone who has no impact on your career. It
sounds harsh, but we both know it’s true.” Evan folded his arms
across his chest.

“Put your clothes on.”
“No. I’m talking right now.”
“You’re saying a lot of bullshit is what you’re doing,” Cree

argued. He faced off with Evan, hands on his hips. Like this,
Cree’s smeared eyeliner made him look dangerous, not seductive.
Nothing had changed, but everything had changed.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to be happy about

having convenient sex with someone who’s discreet, who won’t
expect anything more from you than mutual satisfaction. What the
fuck, Cree?”

ACTING OUT

* * *

Goddamn, Evan’s words hurt. They pierced him straight

through the chest and festered. Evan expected so little of him.
Everything he’d said was superficial. Did he really see Cree that
way? Cree had been thinking of a possible relationship with Evan.
He’d taken for granted that Evan’s nerves had been because he
worried about the risk of investing in each other, too. But all Evan
had been thinking was that he’d get to have a one-night stand with
a movie star.

Cree’s throat burned. He squeezed his waist to keep his hands

from shaking. Humiliation burned behind his eyes. He’d been
used. Just like everyone else in Hollywood. Fucked in one way or
another by whomever came along to stick it to him.

“Never mind,” Cree rasped.
He looked away, making the mistake of looking at the rumpled

bedcovers. He could still feel Evan. Every kiss. Every touch. Every
moment of his desperate invasion. Had it been so heartless? Had
Cree been the only one actually opening up his soul—for this?

“I don’t want to never mind.” Evan took several steps closer.
Cree stood his ground with difficulty. “You’ve had what you

want. It’s my turn.”

“Don’t be like that.”
“What, honest? It’s more dignity than you’ve given me.”
Concern veiled Evan’s eyes. “Please,” he pled. “Talk to me.

What did I do that made you so upset?”

It took a minute to unclench his jaw. He already felt like his

chest was a gaping wound. What would a little salt and lemon juice
be in opening up farther? “You underestimated me.”

Evan’s expression encouraged him to continue.

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“I want you to expect more from me. From us. I want your

feelings to hurt if you think you aren’t enough. Then I want you to
talk to me about it so we can fix it. I want you to care if you think
I’m looking at another guy. I want you to miss me when I’m not
around, but not because you want to get your rocks off.”

The admission took too much. Cree retrieved Evan’s clothes

and tossed them at his chest. Evan caught them unconsciously.

“You want a relationship?” Evan defined incredulously.
“I wanted to try, Evan. You didn’t.”
A thousand emotions flitted across Evan’s face. He looked like

he wanted to say something, but couldn’t fix on what to start with.
Finally the air rushed out of Evan’s lungs telling him the one thing
Cree didn’t want to hear. “I can’t.”

Evan’s unemotional work-mask fell into place. Cree’s lover

was gone. His mind raced with a way to bring him back, words he
could use to egg him into another fight. Anything to get him to
look at Cree like he mattered, even if it was pity.

“Why not?” was all Cree could manage around the lump in his

throat.

“Because I’m not stupid. I know how things work here and I

know that even with the best of intentions, bad decisions are made
that destroy people’s lives. I know that once you’re in Hollywood,
your soul gets sucked out of you and no one matters but the person
in the mirror.”

“You think that about me?” Cree asked.
Evan yanked on his jeans in barely controlled anger. His jaw

set stubbornly, and as Cree asked his question, Evan’s eyes flicked
up to him dismissively before he continued getting dressed.

“Not yet, but I will. Then I’ll hate myself for giving in to a

moment because some hot guy made me forget long enough to

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believe a flightless dream.”

Cree closed his eyes on the pain. It wasn’t getting better, it was

getting worse. This discussion made him hurt so much more than
he’d already been. “Your faith in me is spectacularly low.”

“Cree, you might be the best thing to enter my life. I’ve known

you two weeks. They’ve been intense, but I don’t trust myself to
say that it’s worth the risk of a long-term heartbreak.”

“So you’re opting for short-term decimation.”
“I’m suggesting casual sex with a guy I really want to be with,

and hoping it’s enough for him, too.”

Cree nodded, preferring it to words. Evan was dressed. “I need

to think about it.”

Evan reached for him.
Cree jerked out of reach before he touched him. “You’d better

go.”

“Cree—”
“No. Just leave.”
Evan huffed, defeated most likely. “What about dinner?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I’ll make some in case you change your mind,” Evan offered.
“Shut the door on the way out.”

ACTING OUT

CHAPTER 5

Evan had been walking on eggshells for the past five days.

Cree kept things purely business. Running lines was done at the
dining room table, nowhere close to touching. The dinner Evan had
made did get eaten, but Cree had declined letting him cook since.
Instead, it was an assortment of peanut butter sandwiches or
random food deliveries.

Evan went to the store and filled the pantry with spices and

necessities. He also stocked the freezer. Except for fresh foods,
which he’d have to pick up, next time Cree let him cook, he was
going to make sure it was better than anything a restaurant would
deliver.

Mostly, he bided his time, waiting for Cree to say something

personal. But it had been five days without any kind of

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encouragement.

The movie production was flying everyone to a small Austrian

town tomorrow for a scene meant to represent Montana. Evan
didn’t know why the hell Austria did a better job representing
Montana than Montana did. Regardless, he was packed and so was
Cree.

The office fax beeped. Evan walked over to it and pulled off

the first page as it printed. It was a message from Pete. David
Fowler had been located.

Evan’s heart rate jumped to a gallop. He stared at the paper, his

mind utterly blank, then immediately racing with questions.

He’d done it. He’d found him.
When finding his father was still theory, Evan had had plans.

He’d known what he would do next. Now, he just stood there with
plans crashing into each other, tangling with Cree and Austria and
his mother.

Two more pages printed off. Numbly, Evan picked them up.

The first had a photograph, and while it was the face of a man he’d
never met, tears welled in Evan’s eyes, because it was the face of a
man he’d never met. Because now he had someone to associate
with the pain, with his mother’s hard life, and with the devastation
left behind from a man who wouldn’t care, who’d thoughtlessly
turned his back on real people he was accountable to, for a dream.

Judging by the second sheet, showing drunk and disorderlies

and assorted other misdemeanors, that dream hadn’t panned out.
He’d managed to dodge all attempts to find him for child support.
Why? So he could throw those dollars at the nearest bartender?

It made him sick to think of how much the smallest help would

have eased his mother’s hard life. How if he’d stuck around and
believed in the kid he’d help bring into the world, taken

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responsibility for the decisions he’d made early on, Evan wouldn’t
be in this place now.

“Fucking bastard,” Evan snarled.
“Everything sown up for the trip?” Cree asked walking into the

office.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t just say yes, and let it go. He

should have. He didn’t owe Cree more than solid administrative
services, but the words wouldn’t come. Evan held the papers.
Dumbly, he looked up, confused when Cree looked blurry until
Evan blinked and realized there were tears.

God, he so didn’t want to cry in front of Evan. He so didn’t

want to fucking cry over a man who’d never given him a passing
thought either. David Fowler didn’t fucking deserve an iota of
emotion, damn him!

“Shit. What’s wrong?”
With a frustrated shout, Evan wadded the papers up and threw

them down. He shoved the fax off its cart, and stormed out of the
small room. Where were his plans? Where the fuck were his plans?
What the hell did he do now? Blindly, he paced the huge living
room before charging toward the wall of sliding windows.

He needed air. He couldn’t breathe. Holy shit, he couldn’t

fucking breath. Evan pounded his chest as though that would
loosen the tight band around his ribs that kept him from drawing a
full, deep breath. Stumbling into the brilliant afternoon light, he hit
the porch railing and held on, gasping.

“Evan.” Cree must have chased after him.
Evan barely registered the chase except to recognize someone

was behind him. Cree touched his shoulder and Evan shook his
head. “No, it’s—no. I—I can’t breathe.”

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* * *

Cree pried one hand off the rail and partially turned him. He

hauled back and slapped Evan across the face. Twice, when Evan
could do no more than stare at him.

“Go away,” Evan said brokenly.
“Shut up.” Cree pulled Evan squirming into his arms. “Breathe

slower. You’re about to pass out.”

“I can’t.”
“Then I’ll keep holding you until you come around,” Cree

promised quietly.

Evan clutched him, pulling at Cree’s shirt. Cree ran his hands

over Evan’s back. Evan’s hot breath on his neck scared him. He’d
never seen Evan like this. He’d never seen Evan freak out about
anything, even when he told Cree that he didn’t expect anything
from him and Cree had gotten angry.

Cree murmured, his cheek pressed to Evan’s temple. He didn’t

even think about the words he said, or whether they made sense,
but they seemed to calm Evan. Evan’s breathing slowed. Cree
continued to assure him and rock. He stroked the back of Evan’s
hair, his shoulders, anything he could touch to offer comfort.

Evan held on.
Cree fell silent, still holding, still stroking.
Evan let go of his death hold to hug Cree closer.
“That’s right. I’m here. I’m staying right here as long as you

need me,” Cree murmured.

Evan suddenly pushed away, then grabbed Cree’s hand and

dragged him inside to the couch. Evan slammed the flats of his
hands on Cree’s shoulders and Cree stumbled backward, hitting the
white leather cushions with a whoosh.

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Evan landed on his knees between Cree’s legs, and before Cree

even realized what was happening, Evan had Cree’s pants down
and was already working his chub into a full hard-on.

“You don’t have to—” Cree’s words strangled to a stop as

Evan swallowed his cock, tapering off whatever he was going to
say into a long groan.

He was a master. In five sucking sweeps of Cree’s shaft, he had

to fight to keep from coming. But goddamnit, Evan’s dedicated
pursuit of his cock, the hungry devotion he showed to every inch,
the soft throat sounds of Evan eagerly taking him, made the effort
sure to fail.

Evan slid his hand under Cree’s shirt, easing it up his belly

over his sternum, Cree’s pec, where he twisted and tormented a
nipple.

Cree shouted. He bucked, coming hard, shooting sharp jets

down Evan’s throat. Evan sucked him clean. He rose, wiping his
mouth with the back of his hand. Leaving Cree’s cock to air dry,
Evan started to turn away.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Cree snarled.
He shrugged. “Wherever.”
Adrenaline raced through Cree’s veins. “Not again, damnit!”
Swinging a foot out, he knocked Evan’s feet out from under

him. Evan crashed hard to the floor. Cree rushed to straddle him,
then took a minute to close up his pants. Planting his hands on
Evan’s chest, he looked him dead in the eyes.

“No. I don’t actually think you’re an ass, so I’m not going to let

you act like one,” Cree decided.

“I think ass-iness is completely up to the ass being assy.”
“Fuck you. And fuck you for thinking you can fuck me over

and that I’ll take it. And then fuck you again for being all sensitive,

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needing me, and then blowing me like you still want me.”

Evan looked up at him with reddened eyes from unshed tears.

He looked tired, lost, confused. Cree’s heart melted a little, and it
pissed him off.

“I do still want you, Cree. I never stopped wanting you.”
“Because putting a notch in your belt last week wasn’t enough?

You walked out of my room.”

“You kicked me out, or did you forget that part?” Evan

snapped.

“Did you try to stick around? No.”
“I don’t play games. But, stupid me, I live in the real world. I

forget how you Hollywood types are.”

“You don’t play games? Are you for real? What the hell do you

call sucking my dick and trying to walk away?”

“Self-preservation,” Evan yelled.
Cree stared at him. Evan tried to turn his head. Cree hadn’t

unpinned him, so looking away would have been Evan’s only
recourse to disengage him. But he saw it, the vulnerability Evan
tried so hard to hide. Had it always been there? Had that been the
reason he always seemed so stoic? Was it because Evan was more
like Cree than he’d realized?

“Goddamnit. Fucking—goddamnit, Evan. Fuck you. Fuck you

for everything. I should have known having you here was a
mistake. I should have hired another goddamn idiot from the
company.”

“God’s list is stacking up. Might want to delegate.”
“What?” Cree paused in his tirade to make sense of Evan’s

words. They sank in and he started laughing. “You’re a fucking
asshole.”

“I like fucking asshole, but that doesn’t make me one.”

ACTING OUT

“Prove it. I have a box of condoms upstairs.”
Evan looked uncomfortable. “I can’t.”
“You can. I was there the last time, or have you forgotten?”
“I didn’t forget.” Evan rested his hands on Cree’s thighs. “I’m

not going to forget. I just can’t do it again.”

“Why?”
“Because of this.” Evan gestured between them. “Because

you’re never going to understand why getting involved with you
isn’t a good idea. It can only be casual.”

“Fine. I’ll take what I can get. Call it casual if you want to. I’ll

know the difference,” Cree contested.

“I’m not worried about how you’ll take our relationship, Cree.

Believe it or not, it’s not about you.” Evan huffed. “Get off me.”

“What’s it about, Evan?” Cree ignored the request. He needed

to know. He needed to hear whatever Evan had to say. Either way,
it would help him move on. It couldn’t hurt any more than the last
round had, could it?

“You’re a big shot. You have your pick of anyone you want.

I’m a flash in the pan. It wouldn’t take long before you start
looking around for the next lay.”

“So this is about your insecurity?” Cree asked.
“Cree, you’re not a guy someone like me falls for and gets

over. You’re the kind of guy who destroys guys like me.”

“Bullshit.”
“Bullshit, nothing. I’ve found what I came to Hollywood to

find. Now I have to deal with it and go back to Indiana. There’s
nothing about having a relationship with you that makes that easy
for me.”

What did he come to Hollywood to find? The guy he’d hired

the private eye to locate? The fax? Cree clamped his lips. He got

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off Evan and stalked down Evan’s hallway to the office. Pieces of
fax machine lay everywhere, along with papers, both unused and
wadded.

“Cree!” Evan jogged into the office. “Don’t.”
Cree spun on him. “Right now, I’m Mr. Radek and my

employee just busted up very expensive equipment because of his
personal life. Back the fuck off.”

“I’m serious. Don’t mess with my shit. You wouldn’t

understand.”

“You’re right. I’m a moron. I’m incapable of the simplest

concepts—including how to back the fuck off. Sit your shit down,
while I muddle through. If I don’t understand, then you have
nothing lost anyway.”

“But I—”
“Walker, the man I thought wanted to be my boyfriend just

dumped me over a fax. I have every right to find out why.”

Cree went straight for the crumpled papers. He opened the first

one. “David Fowler, age fifty-nine, of Glendale, California. Six
feet two inches, one hundred and ninety pounds. Caucasian
descent, with brown eyes and white hair. Arrived in Los Angeles
approximately thirty years ago, from—” Cree’s eyes flicked to
Evan’s as he read the town.

He continued out loud. “Huntington, Indiana. Pursued acting

career and was involved in the following productions.” Cree’s gaze
skimmed the short, unimpressive list. “Continued behind the
scenes on various projects.”

“You don’t need to read it. I already did.” Evan’s words

sounded forced, rough.

“I haven’t.” Cree skimmed more of the page. “No known

family.”

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He opened the next two pages. One was a picture, and the

growing suspicion was revealed with a clunk. He looked like Evan.
Older, more jowly, beaten up a little by life, but the resemblance
was uncanny. The same brown eyes looked back at him. The same
hairline, the same nose, the same halfway smile.

“He’s your dad,” Cree stated.
“It must have killed her.”
“Who?”
“My mom. I look just like him. She had to raise a boy who

looks exactly like the man who left her for Hollywood,” Evan said,
dully.

“An actor who broke your mom’s heart, and the heart of her

little boy,” Cree said, fitting the last piece in place.

And now the little boy was afraid he was following in both his

parents’ footsteps. His mother’s for potentially falling for an actor.
His father’s because he’d left his mother for Hollywood. Different
reason. Same outcome.

“I’d never seen a picture of him before,” Evan confessed. “She

never showed me one.”

“She probably realized how it would affect you. She loves

you.”

“I came here after him. She didn’t want me to go. She thought

I’d stay like he did. Now I know why. I’m history repeating itself
in her eyes.”

Evan’s defeated tone shook him.
“You aren’t your father,” Cree told him.
“Aren’t I? I abandoned her.”
“Really? Is that why you left Indiana? To hurt your mother?”

Cree said disbelieving.

“I came to find the rat bastard and slap him with a subpoena.

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Then I planned to go home and make sure he paid her every penny
of back child support so maybe she can retire one day.”

“Doesn’t sound like abandonment to me. Sounds like

integrity.” Cree put the papers on the desk. “You’re a good guy.
Your mom raised you to be. You’ve nothing in common with
David Fowler except his looks. Give yourself a little credit.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re right. I couldn’t possibly have led a normal life before

I came to Hollywood. I had a rose petal path with no issues
standing in my way either. That’s where you’re going with this
argument?”

“I just mean that you and I have different histories. Mine

happens to be a six-foot-two, deadbeat dad,” Evan said.

“Mine involved me getting repeatedly used, to accomplish

other people’s goals.”

Evan gaze met his. “I wasn’t using you.”
“That’s how it feels.”
“I wanted to be with you. I was just very aware that I wouldn’t

be sticking around in Hollywood after I found David.”

Cree wanted to stop talking. He was getting the strange

queasiness in the pit of his stomach that he always got when he had
to confront someone. He hated this part of a relationship. They
both wanted each other, but neither one of them wanted to give up
their stance. And Cree, for one, still felt pretty strongly about the
way Evan had handled their—fling.

Mostly because it hadn’t been a fling in Cree’s mind. Evan’s

explanation after the fact, the lack of trust, and the expectation of
Cree’s character failing Evan, had stung. He wouldn’t claim it
compared to Evan’s pain, but God he wanted to. Cree’s pain was
just as valid.

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But it wasn’t his time, it was Evan’s. Evan’s pain was fresh,

and Evan had finally found his father. “Which means,” Cree said,
picking up both his thought and the segment of conversation where
Evan had left off. “You’re returning to Indiana.”

“That’s the plan.”
“What about Austria?” He wanted to say, what about me . Evan

had answered that question clearly five nights ago. Cree didn’t
figure into the equation.

“I still have to talk to the lawyer back home and get that

subpoena issued. He’s waiting to file the request with the judge, so
it won’t take long.”

“Production had planned being onsite for several months, until

location filming is done there. Then they were going to tie it up in
Canada,” Cree reminded him. He felt guilty for bringing it up. He
knew Evan would feel accountable, and he was right.

“I’ll stay through production of the film. However long it takes.

I just need some time to get the suit settled.”

Cree looked at the floor. The destruction. He didn’t need to

look at Evan to see the pain in his eyes. The evidence in this office
was enough to make the point. Evan wasn’t okay. He wasn’t close
to okay, and he wouldn’t be until he looked after his mother.
Which is what he should do. It’s what Cree would expect him to
do.

“Go home,” Cree said after several silent moments.
“I’ll take a couple of weeks, then come back once my mom’s

taken care of. She still works three jobs. She needs the money
David will be forced to pay back. I’ll finish up the shoot with you
and help you hire a replacement.”

Cree shook his head slowly. “No, Evan. Go home.” His voice

cracked. He picked up a cartridge on the floor where he’d been

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staring moments ago, so Evan wouldn’t see how hard the request
had been. Without another word, Cree walked out.

ACTING OUT

CHAPTER 6

Evan sat at his mother’s kitchen table, sipping a cup of hot

coffee while the house remained quiet. It had been a week and he
still couldn’t erase the image of Cree walking away from him, his
head slightly down, telling him to go home. The resignation in his
tone echoed in Evan’s quiet moments. He’d dreamed about
running after Cree and telling him that he’d come anyway, to just
wait a few days.

But it had been more than a few days, and the subpoena had

been served. There’d been no word from David Fowler.

The lawyer had told him that David needed to find

representation, too, and that was the hang up. He’d said that David
wouldn’t have a choice but to pay, because Evan’s mother had
filed for support a year after he’d left and it had been sitting in the

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court system ever since. He’d said it was only a matter of time.

Evan didn’t want any more time wasted. Urgency built in him

daily to find Cree. He had so much to say to fix things. They
hadn’t left on good terms. And just when Evan thought he knew
what to say, he realized he hadn’t a clue at all. It wasn’t like they’d
left fighting. They hadn’t parted ways with a simple disagreement.
They’d parted ways because their goals took them there, and
because those individual goals had caused hurt in the other person.

Evan had done most of the striking out. Cree had been right

about a lot of things. They’d led different lives, but one wasn’t
more valuable than the other. They’d had different experiences, but
one wasn’t more important than the other. Yet that’s how Evan had
treated Cree.

So in that way, Cree had been wrong. Evan had behaved like

David. He’d left someone behind who could have loved him if
Evan had given Cree half a chance. It wasn’t like celebrities had a
different reaction to pain and loss. Putting himself in Cree’s shoes,
he’d have shuttered his heart if the people in his life consistently
used him.

That’s how Cree had seen their time together. He’d thought

Evan had used him, and Evan had stuck by his assertion that it
wasn’t true. But was it? Had he used Cree?

He’d gone over the argument so many times, Evan wasn’t sure

what interpretation made sense. If someone would hand him the
answers, he’d probably accept them as truth.

Evan hung his head, sighing over the untouched steaming mug.

Or it had been steaming when he’d first sat.

“Such a long face,” his mother said.
She walked in, already dressed for work. Since he’d been

sending her money, she’d been able to let go of one of her jobs. He

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wanted to do so much more for her.

“Morning, Mom.” Evan got up. “Want some coffee?”
“I’d love some.” His mother moved efficiently through the

kitchen, pulling out a plate and some bread. “Toast?”

Evan declined, but she put in two slices, then added the cream

and sugar to the cup he handed her. She smiled, but it didn’t
remove the concern in her eyes.

“You were happy in Hollywood, weren’t you?” she asked

between sips.

“I think I could have been.”
“Was it Cree Radek? Was he the one who made you happy?”

she asked gingerly.

“I don’t know, Mom. I didn’t handle things well with him.”
“Have you told him that?”
“No.”
The toaster dinged and his mother buttered the bread sparingly.

She carried her plate and coffee to the table. Patting the seat next to
her, she motioned him over.

“Have you talked to him at all?”
“He’s in Austria, filming.”
“So? You were in Hollywood working day and night. You still

had time to return my calls.”

“I wasn’t mad at you,” Evan said smiling. He took the seat.
“How do you know he’s still mad at you if you haven’t tried to

call him?”

“What would I tell him? Nothing’s changed. I need to be here

taking care of things, and we have no answer to the subpoena in
California. It’s not like I can go to Austria and pretend nothing
happened.”

His mother put her hand over his. “Honey, never pretend

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nothing happened. It doesn’t do either of you any good. Be honest
with him. Tell him what you’re telling me.”

“It’s not the same.”
“Because he’s famous?” she asked, leveling him with an

unimpressed stare.

“He thinks I used him.”
“Is he right?” she asked softly.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“If your answer is maybe, then it’s best to assume you have

some apologizing to do.”

Evan stared into his mug. “I can’t leave yet.”
“Why not? Do you think I’ll fall apart without you?”
He blinked and lifted his gaze to hers. She smiled fondly at him

as though she thought she’d said something amusing. He’d always
felt like she needed protecting. She’d had such a hard life bringing
him up alone. No handouts, no special treatment, no easy jobs.

She laughed then. “You were always such a helpful boy. I

couldn’t have asked for a better son. But, Evan, even if you
weren’t, I would have survived. I would have worked harder and
juggled faster, but I would have been fine.”

“When I left for Los Angeles you were so upset,” he reminded

her.

Her eyes grew sad. “I admit to thinking that you were

following in your father’s footsteps. It took me a couple of days to
remember who you were and that you’d never be David. I let my
fear cloud my judgment and I think you’re doing that, too.”

“The lawsuit will make a difference. He’ll pay all the back

child support and you’ll be able to save it for retirement.”

“And what if he doesn’t? The court can tell him to pay. If he

chooses not to, then there’s another court battle to make him pay. It

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can run a cycle like that for years, draining what savings I do have.
No.” She shook her head emphatically. “I can’t live my life hoping
he’ll be responsible. I know better and so do you.”

“I’ll help you pay. I’ll get another job.”
His mother pushed away from the table and took her empty

coffee cup to the sink. Her toast was untouched. She rested her
hands on the edge of the sink, seeming to think for a minute,
before she turned around again.

“This, right here, this is my life. These are the results of the

choices I made. I didn’t get pregnant by myself. I had enough
sense to know that unprotected sex was a bad idea. I actually had
that thought at the time—what if I get pregnant? And you know
what? I did it anyway.”

Evan started to talk. She stopped him with a lift of her finger.
“It was a bad choice, but it was mine. I made it and he made it.

Trying to get an irresponsible party to take responsibility is a
pipedream. It doesn’t mean we won’t try. It means I’m not
expecting him to come through with restitution.”

His mother pushed away from the counter and walked over to

him. She placed a hand on his chest.

“I’m living my life, Evan. It’s a hard one, but it’s also a really

good one. I’m happy. You go live your life now. It’s time that you
stop putting me first and start thinking of what you need. Start
thinking of that Cree Radek and how to get him back. I’ve never
seen you this way, and that tells me he’s worth fighting for.”

Evan hugged her close. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too.” She swatted his butt. “And now I need to get

to work.”

He laughed. “Can I at least stay another day or two while I wait

for word from the lawyer?”

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“Sure. But you need to earn your keep. Take care of the

laundry and buy some groceries today.”

“You got it.”

* * *

Evan spent the next two days keeping busy, cleaning his

mother’s house like it was spring. And thinking. It was the
thinking that was the killer. He’d already thought the situation to
death, but in a spurt of determination, he’d booked his tickets to
Austria. He knew where they were filming, since he’d helped
manage the itinerary before Cree left.

There were moments where his pride said, “Why hasn’t Cree

tried to call me?” He knew the answer. He’d told Cree that he’d
had no intention of sticking around after he found his father. Not
even for Cree.

Evan winced. If Cree had said that to him, he’d have assumed it

was a celebrity thing. But if Cree had meant it, that he’d actually
been thinking in terms of a relationship with Evan, God that had to
have hurt.

Suddenly, he couldn’t get to Austria fast enough.

ACTING OUT

CHAPTER 7

Cree pulled his coat tighter around his neck. It was too

goddamn cold here. It should be against the laws of human nature
to live in a climate like this one. Oesterhausen seemed to thrive at
its foothills nonetheless. He didn’t know how. It wasn’t a well-
known tourist destination. Although he’d been told that this was
the second movie crew to film here.

“Must pay well,” Cree mused, looking up at the snow-covered

peaks.

He stomped his feet, trying to slap some feeling back into

them. His fingers felt frozen in place at his collar.

“Walker,” he bellowed. “Coffee.”
“Mr. Radek, my name is Brett Shackley.”
Cree glared at him.

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“Getting it!” he called cheerfully as he rushed for the service

tables.

The coffee came and Cree shivered as he cupped it close to his

face. “Where the fuck is my script, Walker?”

Shackley sighed. “It’s at the hotel.”
“You left your copy of the script in the hotel? Walker was new

at his job, too, but he always had his shit together,” Cree grumbled.

“I’ll go get it. Do you need anything else while I’m there?”
Cree ignored him. Nothing worked as smoothly without Evan.

He didn’t sleep as well, without Evan nearby. He didn’t feel
confident that his affairs were being managed properly, either.
Evan did everything right the first time.

His mind slipped to a moment of ecstasy, rolling on the

bedcovers in the dark with Evan’s body flexing and pumping into
his. The cold Austrian air couldn’t stop the fill of his cock.

“Jesus.” He had to get Evan out of his mind.
If that was possible.
Brett was doing his best. He’d agreed to do Ryan Pierce a favor

by hiring him, but Brett wasn’t Evan. The best consolation he
could offer was to call him by Evan’s name.

The lighting crew and cameras were set. Eliza White, decked

out in faux white fox coat, sat on a boulder next to the thermal
spring that made a natural hot tub in the snow. Or at least that was
the scene the set builders had created. Did Montana even have hot
springs?

“Mr. Radek, you’re needed on set,” the director called.
Cree groaned. He handed the cup to a set aide and shrugged out

of his coat. Underneath, he wore swimming trunks. Another aide
took his pants and boots from him as he stepped into the water.

“Oh, thank God, it’s actually a hot spring,” Cree breathed.

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Eliza followed, giggling and sighing in that way the vapid

movie actresses do when they think they’re being cute. If Evan
were here, Cree would tell him to make a note never to work with
Eliza again.

He saw Brett jogging from the hotel in the distance, across the

expanse of snow. It was awkward and comical. Cree smiled. Evan
would never have run. He’d have arrived.

A black sedan pulled up where the service table was set up.

Cree barely spared it a look.

“And action!” the director called.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Cree as Johnny said.
“I wasn’t sure I should.” She pouted.
“He’s my best friend, too.”
“I’d lose everything if he found us together.”
Cree looked off into the distance like he was supposed to,

checking for their best friend. His gaze locked at the edge of the
staging area. Cree leaped to his feet.

Evan’s short brown hair fluttered in the cold mountain air. His

thick black wool coat wrapped him to his knees where the corner
also flapped playfully. Cree was seeing things. He had to be. The
man smiled that partial smile, kind of shy, kind of pleased, all
Evan Walker.

“Cut! Cree is there a problem?”
He didn’t even feel the cold air on his wet skin. “Walker?”
The apparition took its hand out of its pocket and waved

casually.

Cree sat heavily. “I need fifteen,” he called to the director.
“Everyone, take fifteen.”
A horn sounded as an all-call, and the aide came to his side

with clothes. Cree dressed on the heated mat behind the tub, then

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walked quickly to the man who carried a striking resemblance to
Evan Walker.

When he reached him, Cree stared. He didn’t know whether to

hug him, or start yelling. Instead, he searched his mind for
something to say.

“Did it work out for your mom?” he asked.
Evan’s smile faded. “Not by the time I left. It’s pending.”
“So you’re going home soon,” Cree assumed.
“I don’t know. Am I?”
He looked good, all scrubbed and Midwestern, with healthy

skin born of good food and fresh air. Cree had the sense that if he
hugged him and inhaled, Evan would smell like soap and hay.

“Why are you here?” Cree asked. Was it duty to finish the

production he’d started, or something else.

“I—couldn’t stay away.” Evan’s expression grew earnest. “Can

we talk?”

“No.”
“Oh, okay,” Evan verbally stumbled.
“I mean, not now. They’re about to call me to set. Meet me

tonight at the hotel?”

There was only one hotel in town and they had the whole thing

booked out, while still having to pay locals to house some of the
crew.

“Are you using a special name or does it matter?” Evan asked.
“This town’s too small for paparazzi and psychos.” Cree

cracked a smile. He waved Brett over. “Give Walker my room
keys.”

Brett gave Evan an assessing look as he handed them over.
The horn sounded to return to set.
“I’ve gotta—” Cree hitched a thumb over his shoulder.

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“Yeah, you’ve gotta go,” Evan agreed filling the air with

inconsequential conversation.

* * *

Evan watched him saunter off, admiring how even in snow

boots he looked like he ate up the ground as he moved.

“So you’re Walker,” Brett stated like he’d suddenly learned

something important.

Evan held out his hand. “Evan Walker, Cree’s former

assistant.”

“You must have been a great assistant. Do you know that he

refuses to call me anything but Walker? Like you never left, which
is totally okay, I get it. He just doesn’t like change I guess.” The
blond surfer boy with spiky hair grinned brilliantly at him.

Brett must drive Cree crazy with all his excitement and chatter.

In this instance, Evan was extremely pleased. Cree missed him. He
might only miss his professional side, but it was a start.

“He likes order,” Evan acknowledged.
“How many years did you work for him? Must’ve been a lot.

No one does anything right like you do. He only tolerates me
because my best friend is hooked up with Ryan Pierce.”

“I think I remember hearing about the man who got Ryan

Pierce out of the closet.” He grinned at Brett. “I haven’t worked for
Mr. Radek very long. You’ll find your way.”

“The guy is smokin’ hot, but I don’t know how much more of

this I can take. It’s like he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed
every morning.”

That made Evan laugh. He remembered thinking the same

thing at first. “He grows on you.”

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Evan heard his name. He looked around and saw Susie from

makeup. Evan waved. Susie beckoned him over.

“Brett, it was great meeting you but it looks like I need to stop

over and see Susie before I head to the hotel. It was a long flight.
I’m dying for a nap.”

Brett thumped him on the back as Evan made his way to the

makeup van. That’s what it was, too, a van. He doubted Susie was
terribly impressed.

“Hey, Susie.” Evan flashed her a bright smile.
Susie narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare, hey Susie me. You

left him. Do you know how hard it is to get Cree Radek into
makeup when he’s moping?”

“I—haven’t a clue,” he offered, not sure what to say. Yet more

confirmation that Cree had missed him. It eased his soul.

“No, you don’t have a clue. Not even one to leave that boy the

way you did.”

Evan found himself getting annoyed. His mouth tightened and

he counted to ten to stay calm.

Susie took his arm and led him to a more private area. “Evan,

you’re a good boy. I like you. I also care a great deal about that
man over there. He’s been through a lot. Now, I don’t care to know
the extent of your working relationship, but I know a heartsick man
when I see one. You left him high and dry.”

If the roles had been reversed, his mother would also have

given Cree a talking to.

Evan put his hand over hers and squeezed. “I know, Susie. I

was wrong. I’m going to fix it, if he’ll let me.”

Susie’s eyes moistened and she swallowed him in a bear hug.

“I knew you were a good sort.”

Evan pecked a kiss on her cheek and looked back at Cree

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working through his lines as he shivered between takes. Evan’s
eyes felt gritty and heavy. He needed sleep, especially if he was
going to try to convince Cree to give him another shot.

Evan slipped away to the hotel room. Twenty minutes later, he

was sprawled across Cree’s bed in the dark.

* * *

Cree finally broke away from filming. On the way to his room,

he wished there was a way to calm his speeding heart. Evan had
made himself very clear. He didn’t trust relationships with
celebrities. David Fowler had fucked it up for all of them. Though
Cree didn’t think he’d given Evan any reason to question him,
Evan couldn’t get passed what David had done to his mother.

Cree had been afraid to hope that Evan would come back. He’d

told him not to, but he’d secretly hoped Evan would ignore the
request. Now, outside the door, he wasn’t sure if Evan’s
appearance was good or bad. Cree couldn’t deny he was happy to
see him, but he didn’t relish the prospect of going through the
disappointment again.

He used a key copy to get in. The room was dark and the

curtains had been drawn, making it even harder for his eyes to
adjust. He reached for the small lamp by the bar and clicked it on.
Yellow light spilled into the room and touched the shape of Evan’s
sleeping form.

Cree watched him for a moment, almost afraid to wake him in

case the reason Evan had returned didn’t have anything to do with
picking up where they’d left off. But, Jesus, he’d missed Evan. He
missed the way he thought about things, and the jokes he laughed
at. He missed the little quirks of his personality. He missed kissing

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him, too.

Cree took a deep breath and blew it out, trying to calm the riot

of butterflies in his stomach. Crossing the room, he sat on the edge
of the bed when he reached Evan. What would Evan think if Cree
snuggled up behind him and held him? Was it possible that arms
could miss holding another person? Cree ached to be near him.

He dropped a hand on Evan’s hip. He knew the flight over had

to have wiped him out. It had taken Cree two full days and lots of
hydration to adjust to normal daytime hours. He shook Evan
gently.

Evan moaned, then, seeming to come to, he pushed up on the

bed. “Cree,” he said in a sleepy growl.

Cree smiled. That was promising. Not a Mr. Radek, but a Cree.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Evan smiled like drowsy sex. Suddenly his eyes

widened, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. “Toothbrush.”

He scooted off the bed and went for the luggage by the front

door that Cree hadn’t noticed until now. Finding what he needed,
Evan swung around looking.

“Bathroom’s there. I looks like a louvered closet door,” Cree

offered.

Evan disappeared behind it. Water ran for a while before Evan

finally reemerged. When he did, it was to come sit beside Cree on
the bed. He tucked one foot behind his knee so that he was facing
Cree, mirroring Cree’s position.

“How was your flight?” Cree asked lamely.
“Long.” Evan smiled easily. His eyes searched Cree’s. “Worth

it.”

The cryptic answer didn’t exactly clear things up.
“You must be hungry,” Cree suggested.

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“No. Not really.”
“Thirsty?”
Evan laughed. Cree did, too. The awkwardness was palpable.
“No. I drank some of the pitcher water in the bathroom. But

thanks.”

Evan fiddled with a wrinkle in his jeans. Cree watched him

pluck at the wrinkle and press on it, in stupid fascination.

“Why are you here?” Cree repeated the question he’d asked on

the set.

“I want to come back.”
“In what capacity?” Cree needed to know before he said yes

either way. He didn’t know if he could work with Evan,
considering he couldn’t get Evan out of his mind. If Evan wanted
back into his bed, Cree couldn’t be casual about it.

“However you’ll let me.”
Clear as mud. Cree felt the tension return to his shoulders. God,

he couldn’t do this halfway shit anymore. “Evan, what do you
want from me?”

“I want you.”
“As a lover, an employer, a friend, a conquest? I can’t read

your mind and you’re giving me nothing to work with.”

Evan seemed to be struggling with his answer. “Fuck it,” he

muttered, coming to some unknown decision. “You don’t get
anywhere unless you ask, right?”

“I guess,” Cree answered cautiously.
“This may mess up my chances, but it’s all I’ve got.” He

smiled nervously. “You were never a conquest, and I fucked up
royally to let you think so in any way. I wanted you, but I didn’t
believe that a relationship with a celebrity would last. In my
experience, the one between my parents didn’t, so I didn’t think it

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could be different with you.”

“You didn’t trust me.”
“No, I didn’t. I’m sorry. I was wrong to hold you up to my

father’s image and expect you to be the same.”

“Yeah, you were way fucking off,” Cree agreed bitterly.
“I really believed that I was your fling.”
Cree made a sound of disgust. “Think about that for a second.

When have you known, or read about me, having random sex or
random partners? Does that sound like me?”

“No.”
“Then why the fuck would you believe it?”
Evan ran a hand through his hair. “Because you were interested

in me, Cree. I’m nobody. I’m an employee who’s convenient.”

“You’re smarter than that,” Cree countered.
Evan nodded. “Because I wanted to believe it, despite the fact

that I knew better. It made leaving when I found my father easier if
I was your fling.”

“It made you the fucking martyr.” Cree’s heart raced. He was

pissed, but they were finally getting somewhere and he wasn’t
about to change the direction of the conversation.

“You’re right.”
Several seconds passed between them.
“So what do you want from me?” Cree asked again.
“I want to start over. As pathetic as this sounds, I fell in love

with you along the way and I screwed it up. I want a second
chance.”

“You hurt me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Evan’s brown eyes looked

sorrowful. They also looked hopeful.

“Don’t ever fucking hurt me again.” Cree put his hands on

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Evan’s thighs and squeezed. “I’m glad you came back. Will you
stay?”

Evan cupped Cree’s cheek. Cree leaned into it, closing his

eyes, not caring if his tough-guy image took a flying leap out the
window. Evan was back.

“I don’t want to hurt you again but, realistically, it might

happen,” Evan admitted reluctantly.

“Trust me enough to give me the benefit of the doubt next time.

And trust me when family stuff comes up. Trust that I can help, or
at least listen.”

Evan nodded, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Cree’s

lips. “I promise.”

Cree tackled him sideways to the bed. “And don’t fucking

leave me again.” He knew his emotions were on his face. He could
hear the thick hitch of tears in his voice and saw that Evan heard it,
too.

“I won’t,” Evan whispered. “I’m done being stupid. I love you,

Cree.”

“It’s about damn time you did.”

* * *

Cree kissed him. Evan’s eyes sealed happily. Cree was his. It

didn’t matter that he hadn’t declared his undying love. That might
take time, considering how much Evan had done to shake Cree’s
faith in him. Evan was willing to wait, especially if it meant more
kisses like this.

Cree’s hands dragged up Evan’s torso, bunching his shirt out of

the way and running ticklish fingers over his pits and ribs. Evan’s
skin tingled everywhere he touched, wanted to tingle everywhere

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he missed. Evan raised his arms over his head so that Cree could
get Evan’s shirt off.

Once he was free, Cree muscled out of his shirt, too, and they

were finally pressed bare chest to bare chest. He’d missed this.
Evan loved the way their body’s worked together, the give and
take of breathing like this, their bodies in unison. He could feel
Cree’s heart as well as he could feel his own.

Evan parted his lips, needing more of the man. It was just as he

remembered. Cree tasted like a welcome home. Evan worked
Cree’s pants off. Cree stopped kissing to kick off his shoes and
socks. It was as Evan was doing the same that Cree suddenly got
up and went to the bathroom.

Evan flung his second sock, the last of his clothing, to the floor

as Cree came back with lube and condoms.

“We really ought to start keeping those closer to the bed,” Evan

mused.

“I haven’t needed to until now, but I’ll keep that in mind. I

intend to make sure you stay in my bed every night from now on.”

Was that a commitment or a statement said in the heat of

passion? Evan’s heart didn’t care. It felt full because of the words,
however they were intended.

Cree’s gaze roamed Evan. Evan stretched out for him to look

his fill.

“I love the way you look,” Cree murmured.
Evan stroked his cock, which stood proudly erect. “I think it’s

pretty clear how much I like looking at you.”

“I’m impressed.”
Cree climbed onto the bed with him. He lay on Evan, both of

them groaning as their naked, hot cocks rolled against each other.

“Do you bottom?” Cree asked.

ACTING OUT

“I would for you.”
Cree lifted up. “Roll on your stomach.”
Evan did, and Cree spread his legs, forcing the globes of

Evan’s ass apart. Evan handed back the lube and hissed when the
cool gel touched him.

“Foreplay after?” Cree suggested.
“Isn’t that postplay?”
“Only if we stop there.”
Evan chuckled, but it died the minute Cree began teasing his

hole. Cree didn’t take a lot of time. He seemed to be in a hurry, but
that was okay with Evan. He wanted that reconnection just as
badly. There’d be time later to slow down.

Cree pushed in another finger, tugging on the tight ring of

muscles to pop over them playfully.

“Cree, please. I need you.” Evan shivered as tingles raced up

his spine and danced around his scalp. If Cree didn’t hurry, Evan
might just come.

Cree tugged on Evan’s balls and cock.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t come. I want to be inside of you first,”

Cree answered.

Evan felt a tight binding wrap the base of his cock and restrict

his testicles. “A cock ring?” he asked incredulously.

“Of a kind. I MacGyvered it.”
“I’m pretty sure MacGyver never needed a cock ring to save

his life.”

“More’s the pity.” Cree finished, slapped Evan’s ass, and

continued his anal teasing.

Suddenly Cree pushed in, filling Evan and making him groan.

Evan’s body had to adjust, but Cree didn’t give him time. He thrust

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in again and Evan’s body crawled with need.

“Don’t slow down,” Evan begged breathlessly.
“I couldn’t if I wanted to. You’re damn tight.”
“You’re the first in a long time.”
The words seemed to spur Cree on. Cree pulled out and fucked

hard, slamming his balls against Evan’s ass. Evan’s testicles, held
immovable by the binding, stayed in place, and Cree’s balls
bounced against them, too. Evan fisted the covers.

Cree paused long enough to lift Evan’s ass in the air. Then the

fucking really began. The need to come was so great, but the
binding held him in check. If it were possible to get fucked all day
long by Cree, Evan would want it. He thrust sure and hard every
time, and it wasn’t just anyone’s ass Cree wanted, it was Evan’s.
He only hoped that would translate to wanting Evan as they
worked out their relationship.

Cree bellowed, rocking hard into Evan’s ass as he came. He’d

barely finished when Evan flipped him to his back. Kneeling
straddled across Cree’s chest, he lifted his bound cock toward him.

“Take it off,” Evan rasped.
Cree sent him a mischievous wink, took Evan’s cock in his

mouth, and started sucking. Evan’s mouth hung open in a strangled
cry. Cree’s mouth felt so good Evan didn’t want him to stop. But if
Cree didn’t stop, Evan’s cock would explode, he was sure of it.

Cree wrapped his hand around Evan’s cock and licked the tip

like a lollipop. “And if I say no?”

“You’re evil,” Evan exclaimed, shaking with the need to come.
“If I undo this, you’ll come too fast. Trust me,” Cree told him.

“Do you trust me?”

Evan looked down into his clear blue eyes. “I do.”
“Good.”

ACTING OUT

Cree propped his head up on pillows. He tugged Evan’s cock

and Evan scooted closer. In this position, Evan’s thighs supported
Cree’s arms and Evan’s cock filled Cree’s mouth.

It was heaven. It was fucking hell. Torture and pleasure rolled

into one perfect moment. Cree sucked the cock head, one hand
pumping his shaft while the other messed with the area he’d
bound. The pressure slowly released and Evan cried out as intense
pleasure made his head swim.

He couldn’t hold still. Rocking his hips, he fucked Cree’s hand

and mouth, and still the binding loosened more and more until his
balls swung free. Restricted until now, and still close to coming,
nothing held back the tide of orgasm Cree released.

Evan yelled and cum streaked up his cock and shot in stinging

jets from his cock hole straight into his lover’s mouth. Cree
moaned his approval. Evan gasped as the last spurts emptied him
and Cree swallowed everything he’d been given.

After Cree sucked him off and helped Evan to his back, they

looked at each other.

Evan started laughing. “That was amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” Cree whispered. He kissed Evan tenderly.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

“I should have—”
Cree put a finger over his lips and shook his head slightly.

“That’s forgiven.”

Cree curled into Evan’s side, resting his head on Evan’s

shoulder. He pressed kisses to Evan’s neck, and Evan hugged him
close.

“I love you, Evan. I knew I loved you back in LA and I should

have told you then. I was afraid to after we had that fight. I’m glad
you came home.”

ACTING OUT

“Oh, thank God.”
“What?” Cree asked.
“I was afraid I’d have to wait months to hear that you loved me

back.” He looked down at Cree. “I would’ve—waited—but I’m
glad I don’t have to.”

Cree pushed up to half cover Evan. “I love you. All that stuff

with your parents, we’ll work it out together.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You don’t have to ask,” Cree explained. “I don’t have parents.

I’m a product of foster care and I wish I’d had a mom who’d taken
care of me the way yours did of you. I owe her. She made an
incredible son.”

“Then who do I thank for you?”
Cree shrugged, a small smile on his face.
“This thing with my dad could drag out for years.”
“Doesn’t matter. Your mom will be taken care of. It’s what I

would have done for mine if she existed. Your dad doesn’t stand a
chance against the legal team I can pull together.”

Evan sighed. “They aren’t your responsibility. They’re mine.”
“Evan, I want you in my life and your mom is a part of that.

She needs more help than you can give her. Will you let me?”

“But the legal fees could be through the roof.”
“Who cares? I intend to marry you one day, Walker. What’s

mine is yours.”

Evan knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he didn’t care.

“Will you at least let me keep working for you until that happens?”

“Sure, but we have to keep Brett on as your assistant because I

promised Ryan Pierce I’d give him a job.”

“I have an assistant and a boyfriend? Cool.”
“Cool? Really?”

ACTING OUT

Evan pulled him down for a kiss. “That’s Midwestern speak

for, I can’t wait to make love to you again so that you know how
much you mean to me .”

“Oh,” Cree murmured between kisses. He grinned down at

Evan. Then, with the famous Cree Radek brow lift, he rubbed
Evan’s nose against his own and drew out the single syllable with
absolute clarity. “Cool.”

ATTS

Mia makes her home in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she
divides her time between a job and spying on people. Mia enjoys
long walks along Lake Algonquin, daisies, dancing in the
snow…(Delete prior sentence, meant for personal ad)…

Mr. Perfect may apply in person for a thorough evaluation and
trial. All others will be towed.

To learn more about Mia, please visit her website at

http://www.MiaWatts.com

* * *

Don’t miss Wrong Number, Right Guy

by Mia Watts,

available at AmberAllure.com!

Hollywood heartthrob Ryan Pierce has captivated the imagination
of women all over the world, but all he really wants is a man of his
own. The fact that Ryan is gay has been kept secret, thanks to his
hard-working agent, and Ryan reluctantly plays along with the
ruse.

One night, Dar Phillips misdials a telephone number, but the guy
on the other end of the line sounds sexy and funny so Dar keeps the

conversation flowing. The man claims to be working on the
upcoming Ryan Pierce film and invites Dar to meet him face-to-
face at the movie studio. Dar eagerly agrees, but he’s not
interested in meeting the film’s star, only the “wrong-number guy”
whose voice on the telephone so enthralled and excited him.

When the men finally meet, and Dar discovers the true identity of
the stranger on the phone, sparks instantly fly…until the paparazzi
show up and claim that Dar sold Ryan’s secret to the tabloids…

MBER

UILL

RESS

, LLC

OLD

TANDARD IN

UBLISHING

UALITY

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RINT AND

LECTRONIC

ORMATS

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