One True Thing (39 page)

So when my phone rang a few days after my

last disastrous run-in with Archer, I was grateful to

hear Dom’s voice on the other end.

“Do you have something for me?”

Dom cleared his throat. “I do, but I can’t pay

much more than five hundred.”

“I’ll take it.” It wasn’t much, but any little

thing had to count.

“Hey, listen, Ash. We’re friends, right?”

In an odd way, I supposed. “Sure. We’re

friends. Why?”

“I just want you to know—I’m not pressuring

you—but I know you need the cash. How about

taking me up on my offer?”

I was confused for a moment. “What offer?”

“Be in one of the films. My bi category has

gone through the roof. I can pay you well. You

know I’ve always wanted you, so I’ll shell out the

cash. Even more if you bottom.”

Hell no.
I didn’t want to do it. Not at all.

“Dom, I can’t. Plus, I know Dusty wouldn’t be

cool with it.”

“It’s not Josh. He hasn’t been around much

anymore.” Dom had seen the blowout at the party

and assumed Dusty hated Josh. They’d actually

grown to be, if not friends, at least very friendly

acquaintances.

“It’s not Josh, it’s just….”

“It’s a lot of money. I know you need it. And

there is the potential for a lot more if you’re okay

with the first one.”

Shit.
He was right. It didn’t mean I could do

the damn movie, but even a little bit of money was

a step in the right direction, and the kind of money

Dom could shell out would sure as hell help a lot.

Especially with my brother flaking on the tiny

amount he’d been planning to give me.

“I’ll think about it,” I told him. “How long

until I have to have an answer?”

Dom made a surprised noise into the other

side of the phone. “Wow. You’ll think about it. I

didn’t expect to hear those words. The shoot’s next

Saturday, and I really want everyone booked by

this weekend. Can you let me know by then?”

“Yeah, I can let you know.”

I hung up the phone, shocked that the words

had come out of my mouth as well. I wasn’t

desperate enough to do it… was I? No, I wasn’t.

But later, when I was making balance sheets

and trying to decide if there was any way at all I

could make it work, and no matter how I added,

the answer kept coming up no, no, no, I realized I

might actually be that desperate.

There was a good chance my answer was

going to be yes. And I hated it.

Chapter Eighteen

Dusty

“DUST?”

Asher’s voice was soft, hesitant in the

darkness. I glanced at the clock and turned over to

face him. It was 3 a.m., but no use in pretending I’d

been asleep. Neither of us was. The stress had

been so high lately. Most nights all Asher did was

toss back and forth. It was next to impossible for

me to sleep with him being so restless.

“What is it?” I asked.

He reached out a hand and trailed it along my

flank to cup my bare hip. “Need you.”

I shifted closer, under the section of blanket

that had been warmed by his heat, and wriggled

one of my legs between his. “I’m here.”

Asher moaned softly and buried his face

against my throat, breathing into my skin as I

started to rock my pelvis into his. “Feels good,” he

whispered.

I hummed my agreement and pressed harder

against him until he rolled over onto his back and I

was draped across the solid length of his body.

“Ash… miss you.”

“Yeah,” he gasped. I felt his fingertips at my

shoulders, trailing along the curve of my spine and

finally dipping into my crease and giving me a bit

of pressure right where I needed it.

I whimpered and ground myself against his

hardening cock. “More.” He brought his hand up to

his mouth and briefly sucked on one of his fingers

before returning it to my entrance. “Yes,” I hissed

as he pressed the tip inside.

He kissed me then, his tongue thrusting in

deep, moving in time with our hips. “Dust,” he

murmured when we broke apart for air, his lips

brushing mine. “I need to tell you something….”

“After.” I was too distracted for talking. All I

could concentrate on was finding a good rhythm,

one that allowed me to push back into his finger

and down against the hard length of his cock in

turn. It had been days since we’d last touched. It

felt more like decades.

“Dusty—”

I kissed him, cutting off whatever he might

have said next, and with a moan, he gave in to me,

accepting the slide of my tongue and arching his

body into mine.

For a while, though not nearly long enough,

thoughts of anything else were forgotten.

Once we were both satisfied, lying sated and

sticky in each other’s arms, Ash brushed his lips

across my temple and spoke again. “We have to

talk.”

The words made my stomach cramp a bit,

despite the happy haze I was floating in. “What is

it?” I asked, pulling back far enough so I could see

his face. He looked nervous, his forehead creased

with worry. “Ash?”

“Dom called,” Asher said slowly.

The cramp in my stomach got suddenly

worse. I recognized that tone. It was the one he

used whenever he was about to say something he

thought I wouldn’t like. “Yeah?”

“He suggested that if I needed the cash badly

enough, I could be in one of his scenes,” Asher

went on in a rush. “A bi one. He said he could pay

me a lot of money, especially if I bottom, and there

would be the potential for more scenes if the first

one works out okay.”

It took me a few seconds to process the

words. Then another few to recover—or
try
to

recover—from my shock. I couldn’t believe that

Asher was actually considering it, that he’d gotten

to the point where he could view porn as a viable

option. I had nothing against porn stars, or the

industry itself for that matter. I was a gay male in

my early twenties. I’d never been a huge fan, but

I’d watched my fair share. When you’re a lonely

young teen and you’re desperate, you do what you

have to.

But did I want my boyfriend, my lover, my

partner
, the man who I wanted to raise children

with someday, starring in one of those scenes?

Could I bear the thought of him not only being with

someone else while we were together, but also

having it immortalized on screen for the world to

see?

“No,” I said. “
Hell
no.”

“Dusty,” Asher started, and his voice

trembled, even as he tried to placate me, “you have

to know I don’t want to. But it’s not like I have

many options right now. I’ve gotten the collections

agency, what, seven grand? I owe them eight still.

Eight thousand dollars
. And they only agreed to

that because I said I would pay them the fifteen

grand before March.”

I shook my head. “We’ll work it out, ask them

to make up a payment plan, and then we’ll find a

way to pay it every month. I’ll take on a second

job if I have to.”

Asher made a pained sound. “
No
. I’m not

going to let you take on another job to pay my

goddamn brother’s debt. And besides that, the time

for payment plans is over. I told them I’d get them

the full amount as soon as possible. If I break that

agreement, the total will revert back to the original

twenty thousand, and then I’d be even
more

screwed. That would mean thirteen thousand

instead of just eight. Do you know what kind of

money they were asking for to get the original

balance paid off in two years? Almost nine

hundred a month, and that’s not taking interest rates

and service charges into account either.”

The amount made me flinch. It would take up

most of what I earned on average over the course

of two weeks. Still, it had to be better than the

porn option. “But then we could pay it off more

slowly,” I said. “I’m sure that if we’re paying

them, they can’t sue you or whatever. Isn’t there

something, like some rule, where if you’re making

payments in good faith, they can’t come after you?”

“I don’t know.” Asher gave a frustrated

groan. “They made it sound like my only option is

to pay or they’ll come after me.”

I rubbed a hand across his belly, trying to

soothe him. “Well, of course they’re going to make

it sound like that, but between the two of us, we

can come up with that nine hundred a month if we

have to.”

“You shouldn’t have to pay for what my

brother did. It wouldn’t be fair or right.”

“Neither should you. There’s a third option.”

Asher groaned again. “I can’t go to the cops.”

I sat up abruptly, the blankets falling off my

shoulders to bare us both to the cool air of the

room. “So you’d rather take someone else’s cock

up your ass than let me help you?” It sounded

crude—God, just saying it nearly made me sick—

but there wasn’t any other way of putting it.

Asher sat upright too, shaking his head.

“Christ, Dusty,
no
. I—”

“Then what are you saying?” I asked. My

voice was shaking, and my eyes had started to

sting, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. “Because

I can’t, okay? I can’t separate sex-for-pay from

cheating. Maybe that makes me naïve, I don’t

know, but there it is.”

“Dust.” Asher reached out a hand, trying to

touch my face, but I jerked back. The hurt look he

gave me sent a slice of pain through my chest, but

there wasn’t any way I could let him hold me,

touch me. Not while we were discussing the idea

of him fucking someone else.

“I can’t,” I repeated. “Just the thought… just

the thought of you….”

Jesus, I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Maybe

I
was
naïve. Young. Melodramatic. I

couldn’t bring myself to care. I was fairly sure if it

were me, if
I’d
been the one suggesting having sex

with another guy for money, whether it would be

filmed or not, Asher would have been just as

vehemently opposed. He’d had a hard time dealing

with the idea that I might have had sex with

Archer, and that was before we were even a

couple.

“Okay,” he finally said. “Okay.”

I grabbed him then and dragged him close to

me. He shuddered briefly, his arms curling around

my waist. “We’ll find a different way.”

THREE days later, I still couldn’t get the

conversation about the porn out of my head. The

next morning, Asher had admitted it was a bad

idea, said he hadn’t known what he was thinking

even considering it. But the worst part was I knew,

somehow I just
knew
, it was never very far from

his thoughts.

I understood. It would be an easy out. Just a

handful of scenes and that bill would be paid off.

We could have a wake, bury it, and slap a

headstone on its grave. Over and done with. But

then those scenes would exist—online, on

people’s computers, on their backup hard drives.

They would haunt Asher forever, until he was old

and gray. Because as much as I knew he was

contemplating doing it, I also knew he didn’t want