Hollywood Harem follows the lives of Hollywood’s young elite through the ups and down of fame and family life. Led by the charismatic and outrageous Kalen Camden, the group of young celebrities face life’s hardest moments while presenting the face of perfection their fans expect and their detractors attack. They are the future of Hollywood, loving their fame and reveling in their infamy...
“Fuck. Me. Now.”
Delilah’s voice was a harsh whisper against Kalen’s ear that traveled along his skin, raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her onto his lap. Her ice blue eyes stared into his and just the look was enough to waken every erogenous zone on his body. He felt himself stiffen and she squirmed against him, teasing his eager cock. He ran his hands through her snow-white hair, grabbed a handful of it and pulled her face to his.
“My Snow White Queen.” He breathed into her as his lips touched hers and his hand slid around to her ass, squeezed the flesh until she squealed. He lifted his hips, grinded into her as he kissed down her deeply tanned neck, chest, bit her nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. She squeaked, grabbed his near-black hair and forced his head back, exposing his throat.
She kissed his throat, trailing down to his chest, stomach, as she slid off his lap and to her knees. With her teeth, she undid his jeans and pulled them down his hips. She ran her tongue up his hard shaft, flicked the swollen head as she slid back up his body. Staring into his midnight blue eyes she straddled his lap again, kept her body a hair’s breadth away from his. Slowly, she lowered herself down, taking him in inch by inch.
His body tensed as he entered her warm wetness; his hands gripped the seat beneath hard enough to turn his olive-colored knuckles white. He moaned, more of a breath than a sound, as he felt her skin meet his.
She moved up than down, slow and steady, raising his temperature with each motion. She began to speed up, quicker, faster, until she was jerking up and down, slamming against him, the slap of skin hitting skin almost echoing through the room.
Her eyelids fluttered, rolled back and she threw her head back and screamed out his name as he pushed his hips up, burrowing as deep inside as his length could go and came as a low moan passed his quivering lips.
He fell forward, laying his head on her cheat. “That…” He said through hard breaths. “Was amazing…”
She kissed the top of his head. “I know.”
- - - -
“God Lord in Heaven, leave it to y’all to turn a nice, family event into some kinda live skin flick,” came a young woman’s voice with more than a slight Southern drawl to it. “Can’t the two o’ you ever keep ya mitts off each other?”
Delilah looked up and smiled devilishly. “You’d have an easier time stopping me breathing, Luck.”
Lucky Descartes frowned at her and shook her head as she twisted her long blond hair into a tight, temporary ponytail. “Can’t take y’all anywhere, can I?”
“Girl, I have been the same Delilah you’ve known since you first met me. What makes you think I’d ever be safe in public?”
Lucky just shook her head again before sitting back down on the other side of the table.
With a shrug, Delilah kissed Kalen once more and slid off his lap and into her own chair. She looked around the table, showing no shame for what she had just done and flashed her devilish smile again. Lucky had seated herself directly across from her, still glowering at her. Her green eyes flashed a mix of anger and disappointment as though she was Delilah’s disapproving mother. Beside her was Delilah’s best friend, Crystal Camden, whose face was hidden behind a fall of shoulder length chestnut brown hair. As though afraid to look, she slid only a bit of that hair from her face, exposing a single caramel-colored eye. Delilah chucked at the shock she saw in it.
“So not funny,” Crystal deadpanned, releasing the hair.
“Wasn’t tryin’ to be funny, jus’ tryin’ to get off.”
“But here, of all places?” Lucky asked, unable to look her in the eyes.
“And?” Delilah questioned. “Who cares where we fuck?”
“Have some damn respect. This is the Amy Hart Suicide Prevention Foundation’s Yearly Fundraiser. Y’know, the one you stated in honor of your mother?” Lucky’s voice was cold and cruel; the words sliced straight through Delilah. “All you ever think of is you!”
“Whoa, Luck, calm down,” Kalen interjected, raising his hands. “No need to wig out. It was just sex. And it’s not like the fundraiser’s even begun yet.”
“Please, boy, you’re jus’ as bad. Always actin’ inappropriate, doin’ things in public that no one in their right mind-”
“Enough, Luck,” Crystal spat, slapping her palm across Lucky’s mouth, muffling the rest of her words. “Cool it. Delilah’s right, she is who she is. Not like she’s never done this shit before.”
Lucky grabbed Crystal’s hand and tore it away and jumped out of her chair so fast it tipped and fell beneath her. “No, Crys, I’m tired o’ this! I have gotten such a nasty reputation from associatin’ with y’all.”
“Then why bother with us?” Kalen asked, his voice seething with anger. “No one makes you stick around.”
“Y’know what? Ya right.” She grabbed her clutch off the table and stormed out of the hall, her heels clicking noisily against the tile floor.
“Damn,” Crystal said, slouching back in her seat. “Wonder what that was about.”
“Who knows,” Kalen said, looking around the room. “Least no one was here to see her drama queen moment. By the way, hall looks good, Lilah. Your mom would be proud.”
Amy Hart had committed suicide when Delilah was twelve after her father had run out on the family with his mistress of ten years. Amy had taken the split hard and spiraled down into a depression she never found the strength or courage to receive help for. One night, when she had been home alone and Delilah had been out with friends, Amy tied a noose in the basement and done her last line of coke. Six years later, Delilah had finally made it to the point where she could take her most painful memory and turn it into something other than the stuff nightmares are made of.
The Amy Hart Suicide Prevention Foundation was scheduled to go live the end of the week, as soon as the last bit of funding could be raised. Because of her family’s history and connections in Hollywood, she had had no problem finding plenty of A-list celebrities willing to shell out the cash needed; even the hall had been donated by a certain actor desperate to make people forget about his tirade against a particular ethnic group.
The hall was large enough to comfortably seat the two hundred celebrities ten to a table. In the front of the hall was the stage where two pop princesses, an emo band and a diva in her fifth (or sixth, Delilah could never remember) decade of reinvention had promised to perform. Behind the stage was a portrait of Amy Hart, smiling and happy from a time before Delilah’s father had ruined whatever chance of being a family they had ever had.
Along each wall were ceiling to floor windows, each with a spiral column in between. The entrance was a double doorway beneath and flanked by elaborate marble arches. Above, in the center of the ceiling, was crystal chandelier with the candle that looked like real flames from the floor.
“Yea,” she said, smiling, “I think she would be. Y’know,” she said wanting other thoughts running through her mind beside what the fund stood for; her mother’s death still brought up feelings and emotions she would rather not experience. “Isn’t Ty supposed to be here?”
“Yea,” Kalen said, following her gaze. “He told me he’d be comin’ with mom and dad but I haven’t seen them yet and he should be here all ready, he’s supposed to be the opening act.”
“He’ll show,” Crystal said reassuringly.
“And you think Lucky’s really leaving?”
“She seemed pissed enough,” Kalen commented, still looking around. “What’s been up with her lately?”
“Damned if I know. She doesn’t talk to me ‘bout shit. I don’t think she likes me much.”
“That’s not true,” Crystal argued. “She like you. It’s just, she’s not a fan of what you do. In public. When everyone can see your tits.”
“And what’s wrong with what we do?” Delilah asked, her eyebrow arched.
“You’re seriously asking me that?”
- - - -
“Yes I am. What the hell does it matter if I pull Kay’s cock out and treat it like my never ending Tootsie Pop?” Delilah looked honestly confused about Crystal’s statement.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” Crystal laughed and rolled her eyes before looking at Kalen, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “I’d ask your opinion but I can figure what it is.”
“She just needs to get over it. We’ve all known each other too long to be shocked by what I do.” Delilah stood, looking over her shoulder at the entrance. “But I’ll be nice and go talk to her.” As she stepped away the doors opened and Tyler came bounding in with a look of concern on his face.
“What is it li’l bro?” Kalen asked when Tyler sat down next to him. “Nervous about your performance?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Its Lucky, she seems upset. She told me she wasn’t feelin’ good but I’m not stupid.”
“Yea,” Delilah said, “that’d be my fault. I’m gonna go and try to catch her before she leaves.”
As Delilah walked away, Tyler looked sternly at Kalen. “You two do get frisky again?”
Kalen smiled coyly. “Of course.”
“You two are gross.”
“One day you’ll change your mind.”
“Not about hittin’ it in public.” Tyler scrunched his nose.
“So much to learn,” Kalen said, grabbing Tyler and crushing him against him. “Trust me, one day you’ll meet someone so amazing you’ll wanna hit it everywhere.”
“C’mon, Kay, leave ‘im alone,” Crystal said, stifling the giggles that threatened to spill out. “You were innocent onc- No, wait, you’ve always been a whore.”
Tyler struggled away. “How’d we end up related?”
“Well, after I was born, mom and dad got naked again an-“
“Stop. There. Now.”
Kalen and Crystal laughed.
“Speakin’ of them,” Kalen said, still chuckling. “Where are they?”
- - - -
Lucky sucked hard on the Marlboro, exhaled even harder as she waited impatiently for the valet to bring her car around, trying her hardest to ignore the crowd of paparazzi gathered in front of what had recently been renamed the Amy Hart Memorial Hall by the same desperate actor who had footed most of the bill for the benefit and start up costs for the foundation.
She knew she should be inside and being supportive but she was tried of the antics. Kalen and Delilah were constantly drawing the wrong attention to their little exclusive group and she was beginning to feel the heat. People were talking about her and not in a way she appreciated. She was from a little Southern Baptist town in Georgia where no one even dreamed about half the things her friends in Hollywood did for kicks.
She was so finished with them.
She turned to the sound and saw Tyler running up to her. Having just turned thirteen he was like a shorter, far less naughty version of Kalen. He had the same angled nose, Asian-flavored eyes and thick, full lips. Before meeting the Camdens, she never would have though brothers could look so alike and not be twins.
“Hello, Tyler,” she said sweetly, swallowing the anger she felt for everyone else at the moment. “Where’s your ma an’ daddy?”
“Runnin’ late as usual. Some kinda trouble with their current production. Who knew albino midget porn would be so difficult to cast?”
“Yea,” Lucky said, remembering why Kalen and Delilah were who they were, “who’d’ve thunk it?”
“Where you goin’?”
“I’m… I’m not feelin’ so hot so I’m headin’ home.”
“Oh, too bad. Well, hope ya fell better.”
“Thanks, hon. Why don’ you head on in, the others’re probably lookin’ for you.”
- - - -
Delilah stepped out as Lucky was sliding into the driver’s seat of her Mercedez-Benz. Hesitantly she strolled over and stuck her head in the open window.
“Really.” Lucky spat.
“C’mon, this’s us. Since when do you take such huge ass issue with it?”
“Since forever. I’m not like y’all. I don’t go ‘round spreadin’ my legs for every cute face.”
“Excuse me?” Delilah backed away, her hand pressed to her chest. “I do not go flashin’ my shit like that.”
“No, but that is what all the trash rags say bout all of us. And I’m sick of it. Do you know the nasty looks I get from my family whenever I go home? They all treat me like I’m the Whore of Babylon.”
“Whoa, hol’ up. It’s my fault that your family is nothin’ but a bunch o’ closed minded hicks? Hell no. If your family really thinks you’re like me, something they say is unforgivable and worthy of eternal damnation, than that’s their issue. Don’t take it out on us. Tell them to fuck off.”
“Yea, that’s it. Cuss ‘em out. That’ll prove I’m nothing like they say in Celeb Watchdog. Let’s rethink that.” She started up the car, revved the engine. “But not when I’m so close to my Smith & Wesson.” She peeled out.
Delilah watched her drive off, a tight knot twisting its way through her stomach. She really could not understand why Lucky, who never had anything to do with their antics, always took it so personally. She also did not see why her family would believe the gossip magazines over their own flesh and blood.
“Serious has never looked right on you.”
She blinked quickly, pushing away the unhappy thoughts, when she heard the voice of one of her closest friends. “Braden!” Braden Black stood there, his blond hair wind-blown, his blue eyes glowing at the sight of her. She ran to him, wrapped her arms around him, squeezed him tight. “Oh my God, it’s been too long!”
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
“Of course I would.”
She pulled away, smiling still, though it was a pained smile. “But Kalen…”
“What about ‘im?”
“And you came anyway?”
“Had to. This’s your thing. He wasn’t gonna keep me away.”
“But you two…”
“It’ll be fine.”
She almost said no, almost told him to leave. While Braden and Kalen were once closer than brothers, for the past few months they had said nothing to each other, even though the falling out occurred on the last leg of their summer tour. But he was Delilah's friend too and had been a huge part of the building of the Amy Hart Foundation.
"Okay, come on. You can take Lucky's seat."
- TO BE CONTINUED -