Read Bradley's Whistle (P.ornstars of Romance #2) for Free Online Page B

stuff. It was like a comfy pair of granny panties that you couldn’t wait to pull on at the end of a long day. I missed my family, and I hated how disappointed my parents had been with me the last time I had seen them. My life in the adult film industry had been discreet, until Kasper came along. There had been no raised voices or harsh words spoken, but their silence and frowns spoke volumes. I had never been the perfect daughter; my independence and stubbornly strong will made sure I was the kind of daughter that kept them entertained rather than prideful. But this career choice had been too many steps in the wrong direction.
    “This has surprised me.” Bradley’s voice dragged me from my pity party.
    “What?” I asked, genuinely confused.
    “Your silence. I assumed you were one of those girls who could talk a blue streak.”
    “What’s a blue street?” I wondered out loud.
    “Not street, streak. It’s a saying that means someone is a chatterbox.”
    “Oh, well, I like to talk, but when I jog, I like to just lose myself. I usually listen to music.”
    “What kind of music?”
    “I’ll listen to just about anything, but mostly the clichéd pop that most women listen to. I’m adult enough to confess I love Taylor Swift.” Bradley just nodded, an uptight expression on his face that I really wanted to wipe off. “What about you?” I asked, suddenly wanting to know more about this brooding, sexy mystery. Bradley shrugged, and my eyes were drawn to his tattooed, muscled bicep. I wondered what those arms would feel like surrounding me, holding me. DANG IT! That was so not going to happen; I was celibate now.
    “Hold up a sec,” Bradley panted, coming to a standstill.
    When he bent over, I realized his shoelace had come untied, then I promptly noticed how damn fine his ass was. I barely managed to hide the appreciative moan that wanted to escape my lips. He was sculptured like one of those fancy marble statues they seem to like so much here in the United Kingdom.
    “See, two can play at that game,” Bradley said with a wink when he stood.
    I blushed—I could feel the heat in my cheeks and ears—and I never blushed! I was perfectly comfortable with my body, clothed or otherwise, and I was perfectly comfortable with other bodies, clothed or otherwise. I was used to saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, I was accustomed to ridicule and jokes, and I DIDN’T BLUSH!
    “Rock, some hip hop, but mostly rock.” He finally answered my question about his own taste in music.
    “What’s your favorite breakfast?” I quizzed him.
    “Huh?”
    “Cereal, eggs, or coffee?”
    “Lucky Charms,” he said with a confused frown.
    “I love Lucky Charms.” I sighed, wondering if he had any back at the apartment. “Oh, my gosh, swans!” I exclaimed, coming to an abrupt stop.
    “Nasty fuckers,” said Bradley, and he kept on jogging. When he realized I wasn’t making an attempt to join him, he stopped, his hands impatiently stationed on his hips.
    I walked off the concrete path and over the thick green grass, making a beeline for the majestic birds. “No, seriously, Wiska, they are nasty fuckers. Stay back.”
    I ignored Bradley as I approached the side of the murky lake in the middle of the park. I stepped out on a rock to get a little closer.
    “What are doing? Wiska, get back here,” Bradley demanded.
    “Stop being a baby. They’re just like ducks on steroids.” I stepped on another mossy covered rock, and my foot slipped, but I quickly regained my balance.
    “Fuck it. If you fall in, it’s on you.”
    “I’m not going to fall in.” Hopefully. I wasn’t the most elegant person which was one of the reasons I was never as good a dancer as my mother. I stepped on another rock, and the swans began to paddle away from me. “They are so pretty,” I whispered as I stood and watched. “Can you take a picture of me with the swans? I want to show Casey and Lionel.” I glanced back at Bradley who stared at