All The Pretty Lights (The "A" List #1) by Tara Oakes Page A

Penis.
    It’s on full display in front of me.
    Every single inch of the long and perfectly groomed limb hangs in a relaxed way against his inner thigh.
    What the hell have I gotten myself into?
    “So,” he asks, standing in a way that seems to flatter him most. Every muscle is flexed, and I do mean every muscle. “Boxers or briefs. Or… commando?”
    Thank God for the bed, or I would have hit the floor, surely loosing my legs out from under me. The thought of Colton Webb walking around commando is just too much. Well maybe it isn’t that. Maybe it’s the giant appendage that’s begging me to stare at it no matter how hard I fight to fix my eyes on Colt’s nose instead.
    It’s a battle I’m losing.
    Every single second that passes, I can feel myself grow weaker, and know that I’ll be giving in soon and staring longingly at it again. Now that I’ve seen it, I’ll never be able to un -see it. It’s burned in my memory like a permanent Polaroid picture.
    “Um,” I answer quickly to end this before I wind up mentally eye fucking his dick. “Briefs.”
    He smiles, then turns to the collection of clothes set out on a nearby chest of drawers. Thank God. This will be over soon. Cover that thing up! Now! Before I lose the strand of dignity that I’m holding onto by a thread.
    He reaches for the cotton briefs, then pauses. I see out of my periphery that his long penis jiggles from the sudden stop of motion and I have to close my eyes lest I’ll be ogling it.
    “Black or white?” He asks calmly, playfully. Oh, God! He’s enjoying this! He’s doing this on purpose. I bite my tongue, thinking about how sick and twisted his little game is.
    “Black!” I spit out faster than fast.
    I hear ruffling, rummaging, as he undoubtedly pulls the underwear up. “You sure? ”
    I’m losing my patience with this man, toying with me like this. “Yes! Black! Now!”
    He laughs.
    Once I hear the telltale elastic snapping against his skin as the garment is fully in place, I feel it’s finally safe to open my eyes again.
    The door knocks twice with Albert sashaying in, no longer appearing to be speaking to himself. “Here you go darling, a sparkling water.”
    I take it thankfully and gulp deeply and quickly to put out the flames. As Albert leaves, he spots Colt in his skivvies.
    “I loove my job!” He sings as he closes the door behind him.
     
     
    ~*~
     
    “Shit!” Colt lets out, catching my attention while  I’m searching through the box of cufflinks, selecting the perfect pair for tonight.
    Andrea has come in to tell him something that apparently isn’t welcomed news. It’s none of my business and I try my hardest not to appear like I’m eavesdropping. The two of them talk in hushed voices as I carry about my business, finally choosing the pair of onyx, modern links for his cuffs.
    I can feel their eyes on me, and it’s making me uncomfortable.
    “Daphne?” Andrea asks out to me from their little huddle.
    “Hmm?” I hum out, doing my best impression of someone who’s very, very busy.
    “Do you have any plans for tonight?” Her voice is careful, but surely hiding some unspoken request. Maybe there’s another celebrity that needs some last minute emergency styling tonight?
    “Nope.” I walk over to them, holding out the cufflinks and asking Colt silently for his wrist.
    Andrea shifts her eyes to make eye contact with Colt as if this was definitely the answer she wanted to hear. “What size are you?”
    I nearly choke! I mean, I know I’m no runway model but as far as I’m concerned, I don’t need to look like every other person walking around out there in the main room of the suite. They may all want to look like little clones of each other, but I don’t. No, thank you. That doesn’t mean that I need to be spoken to about my weight, -though.
    “I don’t see how that matters.” I say defensively.
    Andrea immediately sees how I’ve interpreted her question and backtracks. “No, no. That’s not