Page 41 of Cocky Bastard

I kissed Kanan again and drew him across to the bed, helping him strip off the rest of his clothes. Every touch was slow and soft, simmering with need. There was a burning intensity to every kiss, every swipe of my tongue and brush of our fingers, and it felt like everything was building to a peak, a place, that neither of us had been to before.

Our connection was something I’d never experienced. It was like lightning in a bottle.

And as I pushed my cock inside him, with Kanan’s legs around my waist as he panted and groaned into my mouth, I realised he was it for me.

I would never find anyone else like him. That what we had would be impossible to replicate, impossible for anyone else to ever measure up to, and impossible to explain.

Kanan was my everything and I loved him more than I could ever say, not even if I spent every minute of the rest of my life telling him how I felt. There was simply not enough time and not enough words.

I would have to tell him at some point, though, find a way to convey everything I felt.

And all I could hope was that he loved me in return.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kane

I feltlike I was floating on a cloud for a whole week after I came back from New York. Everything seemed to be falling perfectly into place.

Say I Don’thad launched on streaming to largely positive reviews and had the service’s best opening weekend for a new film in several years, which was apparently making people ask if there was going to be a sequel—even if the film didn’t really need one. I’d started seeing clips of it popping up all over my social media, which I was taking as a good sign despite the fact it was making me sick of looking at my own face.

There’d been a mostly positive response to Austin and me as well. There were obviously trolls and more than a few people who could excuse me being gay but couldn’t get past the “dating a porn star” part. There were also a few people who were obviously jealous and the PR firm that usually handled my social media said there’d been an uptick in DMs asking inappropriate questions. I knew Austin had gotten them too because he’d posted a statement basically saying to stop asking him questionsabout his boyfriend and anyone who messaged him shit about me would be blocked on all his platforms, including MyFans.

I’d appreciated him going to bat for me, even if it felt a bit over the top.

His possessiveness was kind of hot, though, and if he hadn’t had to go back to York for work, I’d have shown him how much I loved it. Repeatedly.

But since I was home alone, all I could do was send him sexy messages, jerk off, and count down the days until I got to see him again. It didn’t help that I had a quiet couple of weeks with only a few interviews lined up, so the only things I had to distract myself from my boredom were the gym, reading, gaming, and watching Austin’s videos.

Luke had dragged me across to the bakery a couple of times and taught me to make cupcakes and cake pops, and it had been fun to catch up while making the delicious treats. And he’d let me bring some home afterwards, so that was a bonus. I was desperate to properly introduce him to Austin because I thought the two of them would get on well, and Luke had promised to meet us for dinner the next time Austin was down.

It was now Friday, a whole week after New York, and I was lying on my sofa half watchingMy Big Fat Greek Weddingand half playing a game on my phone when Miles’s name and picture flashed across the screen, the device vibrating in my hand. I frowned as I swiped the green button to answer his call because Miles very rarely called me without messaging first.

“Hey, Miles,” I said, digging the TV remote out from under my butt so I could pause the film.

“Hey, Kane,” he said and I could hear there was something wrong from the way he said my name. “Have you got a few minutes?”

“Yeah, of course. Everything okay?”

“Not really. The production company behindLlewelynhave decided to rescind your offer of the part. They don’t want you for Llewelyn anymore.”

“W-What? Why? Can they even do that? I thought we’d signed the contract?”

“We’d had the offer and a contract template to look over, but nothing had been formally signed,” Miles said, irritation clear in his voice. “So yes, technically they’re within their right to do that. As for the why, the only answer I’ve managed to get out of them is that they think you’re no longer a good fit and you don’t align with their brand.”

“What the fuck? What does that even mean?” Anger and dismay surged through me, spiralling into a tornado of emotion that threatened to rip everything apart. I tried to take a deep breath, but the air wouldn’t go into my lungs. I knew what they’d told Miles was just corporate bullshit designed to fob him off, but trying to read between the lines was hard when I was seeing red.

It felt like dealing with the fucking record label all over again because the whole “not being a good fit” and “not aligning with the label’s values or the band’s image” were the reasons they’d given me over and over for not letting me come out. “They know I’m gay, right? This whole production is queer. It’s a queer show. That can’t be what they have an issue with!”

“I don’t think it’s that,” Miles said. I’d never heard him this angry but then again this felt personal. Miles was a queer man who’d always fought for his clients, many of whom were also members of the LGBTQ+ community, and I was sure by this point he’d heard every excuse in the book. The fact that he was getting so worked up was proof of how much he cared.

“Is it…” The realisation hit me like a ton of bricks, as if someone had opened the ceiling and dumped them on top of me.“Is it because of my relationship? Are they seriously doing this because of Austin? How fucking petty can they be?”

We’d both known there would be some blowback from going public, given who we both were and what Austin did for a living, but I’d genuinely never considered this would be a consequence. I’d known there was a chance I’d lose parts in the future, but I hadn’t imagined I’d have parts taken away from me that I’d already been given.

Maybe that was naïve of me.

After all, I’d known how the music industry worked ever since I was sixteen. Why would film or television be any different? Especially these days with executives breathing down people’s necks and basing every decision on how much money it would make or lose them.

---