Page 69 of The Casting Couch

“It relaxes the talent,” she said.“We’ll be replacing it in post-production with the soundtrack the clients requested.Something about traditional flutes and ambient dripping water.It’s like Japanese Enya music.”Laura rolled her eyes.

I didn’t ask.

From a nearby speaker, the intro to a synthy J-pop song started playing.Something bubblegum and bouncy that did not match the scene that was about to happen.

“Quiet on set,” Laura called.

Silence dropped like a curtain.Only the sound of the music, lube squelching, and the faint buzz of nervous breathing remained.

“Action!”

The lights hit.The camera rolled.And suddenly I was hyperaware of everything.

Twenty guys slowly stroking.Breathing heavy.Looking at us.No, at him.Bradley sat still in front of me, stiff as a statue, his skin prickling under my hands.I could feel his heartbeat—rabbit-quick—under my palm.

I hated it.

I hated watching these guys stare at him like he was just some canvas.I hated the way Evan licked his lips every few seconds, like he was imagining this was an all-you-can-eat buffet and Bradley was dessert.

Laura’s voice cut through the air.“Nico!Hands!”

I glanced up.

She was staring at me, then down at where my hands rested, clutching Bradley’s chest like I was trying to keep him from floating away.

“You’re supposed to be pleasuring Blake,” she snapped.

My breath hitched.

Bradley’s breath hitched too.

And slowly, like someone defusing a bomb, I moved my right hand lower.Over his stomach.Past his waist.He let out a soft gasp the moment I curled my fingers around him.I didn’t know if the pill had kicked in, or if this was just him, but he was already hard.Thick.Warm in my palm.

And fuck me, I got dizzy.

I wrapped my fingers around him and stroked once, slow and deliberate.

He shivered.This wasn’t acting.Not for me.

I leaned in, kissed the side of his neck, and felt the tremble in his spine.He tilted his head toward me—unconsciously, instinctively.

I couldn’t help myself.

I whispered, “You know, I’ve never shared my toys before.Especially not with a bunch of discount Abercrombie extras.”

His chest rose hard against my arm.

I kept going, my hand working him, gentle but constant.

“Look at Evan,” I murmured in his ear.“He’s gripping his dick like he’s trying to twist open a jar of pickles.”

Bradley choked on a breath.

“Guy to your left,” I whispered.“Did he just moan ‘for Rome’?Because I swear I heard it.”

Bradley’s shoulders shook.

“And that one’s staring at the gay porn monitor like it owes him money.”

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