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  First Priority

  Este Holland

  First Priority

  Copyright © 2019 by Este Holland.

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organiza- tions, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information contact :

  ([email protected], www.esteholland.com)

  Book and Cover design by The Write Designer – Lisa Messegee

  Editors: Flat Earth Editing

  Also by Este Holland

  Novels:

  The Marshal’s PI

  The Artist’s Boxer

  Deacon and the Dead

  Short Stories:

  Mik and Journey

  Nick and Ben

  Cameron and Gray

  Author’s Note:

  Some places are fictional, others are not. Characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real life people is coincidental. I have not been to Ireland, it is a dream of mine, so please forgive any mistakes in geography. This book came to me when I was trying to come up with an idea to write a character like Kuzco in The Emperor’s New Groove. Truman was the result of that. And, of course, he changed along the way, as my books tend to do.

  I love Adam. He’s a true sweetheart. As my proofreader said, #TeamAdam.

  Dedication:

  To Andy who gave me the phrase ‘laguna mystery’. It is by far my favorite term for the vagina.

  He will be compensated $0.000043 out of every one of these books sold from here until eternity. #mathisimportant.

  P.S. Andy wishes me to tell you, dear readers, to please buy this book because he is “poor as f*ck”.

  P.P.S. He really says fuck that way sometimes. He cuts out the u sound somehow. I have no idea how he does it.

  XOXO

  Este

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Interlude

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Courage:

  “To speak one’s mind by telling all one’s heart.”

  Chapter 1

  Truman Meets Adam

  Truman

  I loved parties. Even more, I loved parties that were all about me. Gilt, the elite film club in LA, met at the Chateau Bissou every month, but this was a special occasion for my Oscar nomination.

  I’d already been riding high from all the articles and interviews done about me, but nothing, abso-fucking-lutely nothing, compared to hearing Janice Jane read my name off that card.

  “Performance by an actor in a leading role…oh, I’m so excited! It’s Truman James! Bitter Nightshade!”

  Most of the event was a blur after that. I’d hugged dozens of people and read the speech written for me without fumbling. Now, I sat enjoying a cigar and a glass of 1939 Macallan with the biggest producer in the world, Gene Montray, while watching hot men and women of various ages flit around half-naked, taking orders and invitations.

  I had my eye on a cute little brown-haired twink with a birthmark high up on his thigh. He wore no shirt and his skin glowed under the amber lights as he passed by, giving me a sultry smile. He smiled again before disappearing down the rear hallway.

  “Truman, go after him before you snap your neck from looking.”

  I turned to Gene with a laugh and a wink. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  I made my way down the hall. A hand shot out to grab my lapel and I grinned. Twinky pulled me into a walk-in pantry, and I watched as he tried to seduce me with a slow lick of his full lips. “Congratulations, Mr. James. I loved your movie.”

  Smirking, I said, “I doubt it.” The truth was, I barely even remembered the fucking thing. It was shot over a year ago, and there had been so many reshoots and edits.… “You want to suck my dick or what?”

  He flashed his capped teeth and kneeled. I was stiff and horny after my night, and I wanted to get off. He unzipped my tuxedo pants and fished my cock out; it wasn’t hard to find. He was sloppy as he sucked me. I would be too if I had that many fake teeth.

  “Hey…Twinky.” I tapped his head. “Is this your first blowjob?”

  He pulled off and looked up at me. “Huh? No. My name’s—”

  “Yeah, it doesn’t matter. You suck at sucking.”

  I was too busy zipping up my now-flagging erection to notice his anger. This was becoming an all too familiar problem I didn’t want to think about.

  I opened the pantry door and made my way to the employees-only bathroom.

  “This is ridiculous, Adam. You’re twenty-seven, for God’s sake!”

  I stopped at the harsh voice coming from around the corner.

  “I’m sorry.” The shy voice was high for a man, but it had a lyrical quality that caught my attention.

  “Sorry? It’s just a party. You go out and you talk about movies. Stop hiding in the lounge like a kid and act like a fucking adult!”

  I kept going and saw them. One was muscular and vaguely familiar. The other, slender but fit, with gorgeous skin that would be buttery-smooth under my hands. I swallowed the saliva gathering in my mouth. My erection sprang back with a vengeance and pointed at him like a compass due north.

  The muscular one glanced over and did a double take. “Mr. James!”

  “You’re in my way.” I pointed to the bathroom beyond the pair.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  They shuffled over, and I nodded. With one last glare at the pretty man, the muscular one left.

  Pretty looked everywhere but at me and ducked his head, trying to squeeze past me in the narrow space. He was shorter than me by about four inches, I guessed, if he stood straight.

  “Wait.”

  He froze and turned halfway.

  “Look at me.”

  Jolting, his gaze shot up, more in surprise at the order than obedience.

  Ah. Green eyes under that wheat-colored hair. “Y-yes?”

  “Just wondering what color your eyes were. Are you into guys?”

  His cheeks flushed red, and he stepped away as I stepped forward with my second-best smile. That was a definite yes. “Meet me in the bathroom.”

  Those big eyes widened and followed me as I continued down the hall.

  Adam

  Am I into guys? Meet him in the bathroom?

  I was a little out of touch with the real world, and I hadn’t been on a date in years, but even I was aware of what he wanted. And he was being rude about it. The jerk. I ran in the opposite direction. Literally. I ran so fast, the guests in the purple room were a blur.

  I knew who he was, of course. My stepbrother, Chad, had made it my job to know. Dragging me to all the parties he could get into had become Chad’s crusade to “change me for the better” as he put it. I’d had to study, with him flashing me photos on his phon
e, the “Who’s Who” in LA.

  I slowed my steps, admiring the beauty of the hotel with its Old Hollywood charm, and disappeared into a small room with a lovely desk, though the books on the shelves were purely decorative. Collapsing on a settee, I ran my hands through my gelled hair, messing up all the work Chad’s girlfriend had done.

  Truman James. He’d started his acting career—a little late by Hollywood standards at the age of twenty-seven—with a bang and had hit after hit for years. He’d started as a model, I recalled, and he was perfect for it with his sculpted bone structure, thick dark hair, and dark blue eyes. I’d never cared for his movies. Bitter Nightshade had been okay, but the book was sooo much better. They’d left out the most important scene between Mercury and Alana! And he definitely hadn’t been the best actor to play Mercury. Chris Brazon would’ve been much more appropriate. My buddy Jeff and I had chatted about it one night while gaming, and he agreed with me. Renee Jones had been good as Alana, though. She’d captured her fierce innocence perfectly.

  Chad had gotten me into one of the most coveted parties in the world, calling in favors left and right, and here I was, hiding. He didn’t understand that I didn’t care. I wanted to be at home, writing.

  I hadn’t told Chad how well my books had started to sell. Heck, Chad didn’t even know I wrote books. He knew I liked books, but not the self-publishing. He’d look down on it like he did with my love of playing the keyboard, and how I’d lived and breathed Dragon Ball Z with my friends when we were young.

  I’d stopped caring a long time ago what my stepbrother thought of me, but living in his guest room for the past few months while my apartment was fixed for a mold problem had brought all that old shit to the surface. He hadn’t asked me for rent, though I’d offered. So, now he wanted to “fix” me and expected me to cooperate because I was living there for free. It was a ridiculous turn of events, and I didn’t know how to stop the cycle.

  My thoughts circled around to Truman James. It was beginning to sink in, what he’d asked me. He wanted to fool around at a party with me. I did like guys, and he was gorgeous with his defiant good looks and famous slashing grin, but I wouldn’t know what to do or what to say to him. I had trouble talking to my own friends and family, let alone strangers and movie stars.

  My chest hollowed out, and a cold sensation spread through my limbs all the way down to my fingertips. Thinking about going out there and talking to people made my stomach cramp and sweat break out on my palms.

  I wiped them on my thighs and kept rubbing. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths as the anxiety slowly crept upon me. I was used to it. It wasn’t an attack, yet.

  I kept telling myself that until I’d calmed.

  I want to go home.

  Chapter 2

  Annoyance Is a Two-Way Street

  Truman

  He hadn’t followed me—the pretty one. Searching the bottom floor of the hotel in a fog of confusion, I tried to remember if I’d ever been turned down for a bathroom hookup. It might have happened with the boyfriend of a coworker, but that didn’t count—I’d been trashed at the time. So, when I say I was confused, it was valid. I fidgeted with my loose bow tie, scowling when I couldn’t find him anywhere.

  Is he hiding from me? I scanned the room. Aha! “You.” I’d found the muscular one. “Come here.”

  With a look of pleasant surprise, he flew over to me. “Yes, Mr. James?”

  “Where’s the guy that was with you?”

  “Who?”

  I gritted my teeth in a smile and saw him swallow. “The blond one you were yelling at.”

  He gaped. “Yelling? I wasn’t—”

  “I don’t care. Where is he?”

  “Uh, he should be around here.” He spun on his heel. “I’ll find him.”

  A server appeared at my elbow. Twinky. “Mr. James, I’d love it if you’d give me a second chance.”

  God, he was so obvious, I was bored. “Trying to get into movies through my dick isn’t going to work.”

  He gasped, and his cheeks flushed. It wasn’t as sweet as it had been on the pretty one. “I-I’m not.”

  “Of course you are. Everyone tries, but it doesn’t work. Unless you want to get into bad porn…or soap operas.”

  He scurried away just as the muscular one came over, dragging him along.

  “Here he is, Mr. James. My stepbrother, Adam. I’m Chad McGuire, by the way.

  We met—”

  I focused on Adam. “Why didn’t you follow me?”

  Adam blushed bright red, making me lick my lips. I wanted to feel that warmth.

  He raised his chin, shoulders lifting with a deep breath. I bit the inside of my cheek so as not to smile too big. Add adorable to the list.

  “I never agreed to follow you.”

  “Adam.” Chad pushed his stepbrother a little.

  Frowning, I took his arm without waiting for permission, and he followed me across the room where a small red oak bar sat catty-corner with glass shelving behind it. “Give me a martini,” I told the bartender. “Adam?”

  He jumped when I addressed him. “Water, please.”

  “Seriously?” I snorted. “Give him a martini as well.” I wanted him to taste the same when I shoved my tongue down his throat later.

  “Here you are.” The bartender set them on coasters.

  I took a long drink. Adam didn’t touch his, and I raised a pointed brow at him.

  “I-I need…water, please.”

  “Are you okay, Angel?” the bartender asked.

  Adam’s voice was a little breathy, and I noticed his cheeks were still flushed. Shit, is he already drunk? I hated drunk sex. It was fumbling and annoying.

  I sighed. “Water.”

  The bartender handed it over, and Adam downed it in a few gulps. Nudging him onto a stool, I sipped my martini while he drank a fresh glass, slower this time. His color evened out.

  “Better?”

  Adam nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  “Great. Let’s go back to my place. I have a limo waiting.”

  “What?” He paled instead of blushing this time, and I briefly wondered if he had blood pressure issues.

  “Problem?”

  “Yes, there’s a problem! You. I’m not going ho—” He lowered his voice, though the bartender could still hear. “Home with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want to.”

  I leaned to the side, elbow on the bar, and let my eyes wander from his cheap loafers all the way up to his wavy hair, getting stuck on his beautiful lips for a moment. “You are gay, but even if you weren’t, you wouldn’t be the first straight guy I’ve been with. So, what’s wrong?” I straightened. “You do know who I am, don’t you?”

  A quiet snort made me look at the bartender, who got busy drying glasses.

  “I know. So what?” Climbing off the stool, he smiled at the bartender.

  “You sure you’re okay, Angel? You need a cab?” he asked.

  “No, I’m fine now. Thank you, Jay.”

  “Jay?” I asked, some strange emotion running through me. Did he know this guy? I took a longer look. He was a good-looking younger guy. Latino with black hair and dark eyes.

  “It’s his name,” Adam said.

  Jay tapped his shiny nametag.

  I moved past it. “So, that’s it? You’re going home?”

  “That’s right. I’d say it’s been nice meeting you, but that would be a lie. Good-bye, Mr. James.”

  Adam left me staring after him.

  “Here you go, sir.” I turned to find a fresh martini and an amused smirk on Jim’s—no, Jay’s—face.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Something funny?”

  “No, sir. I’m just a happy guy.” Jay came out from behind the bar. “Excuse me, it’s time for my dinner break. Have a good evening, sir.”

  Adam

  That arrogant ass. Who the hell does he think he is?

  “Angel!”

  I whipped around
at hearing Jay call out. “Hi?”

  “Are you okay? That man was an arrogant ass.”

  I stared at Jay, then snorted a laugh. “I was just thinking that.”

  Jay smiled.

  “I’m okay, thank you. I’m sorry if he was rude to you.”

  Jay waved. “Pfft, that was nothing. He was actually not that bad compared to some people who come through here.”

  “I guess you see a lot of that, huh?”

  Grinning, he shrugged. “It comes with the gig. It’s good pay, though. And the tips are insane.”

  Smiling, I took a deep breath of the night air. “That was surreal.”

  “I thought maybe you weren’t used to that,” he said, careful not to offend.

  “Getting asked out?”

  “Being picked up by a movie star,” he corrected with a soft chuckle.

  “Oh. Yeah. So not used to that.”

  We laughed again, and I held out my hand. “I’m Adam Hendrix.”

  “Jay Reyes.”

  “Thanks for checking on me. I appreciate it.” Huh. It was easy to talk to Jay.

  “No problem. Hey, you wanna exchange numbers?”

  “Numbers? Do you play Numtris?” Jay pulled out his phone, and I flushed. “Oh.”

  He grinned. “No, but we can hang out sometime, get a coffee.”

  “Um, that would be nice.” The thought of forcing small talk in a crowded coffee shop made me nervous as hell. But I did just think he was easy to talk to.

  I gave him mine, and he texted me. I ordered an Uber and said good-bye to Jay, not willing to wait for Chad to come out and start interrogating me. I made it to Chad’s apartment in just over forty-five minutes.

  Once in the bathroom, I stripped and jumped into the shower. I couldn’t wait to get online and tell my best friend, Jeff, about my night.

  As I washed my hair, my indignation at Truman James came rushing back, and I had to turn down the hot water a little so I didn’t pass out. God, what an ass. He’d looked so arrogant, leaning on the bar with his brutally handsome face, waiting for me to obey him.