Breaking Hollywood (Wardrobe #2) - Page 20

“Baaahhh! Baaahhh! Baaahhh!”

“For fuck’s sake! You shouldn’t even be in here. Will you shut—ow!” My hand goes to my nose, my eyes flying open.

She fucking head-butted me!

The damn goat just head-butted me in the face.

“You little bitch,” I growl at her.

She rears back and tries to head-butt me again. I stop her with my hand pressed to her, but she won’t give up, pushing against my hand.

It’d be funny if I hadn’t just been head-butted in the face. I check my nose with my hand to make sure it’s not bleeding while simultaneously keeping the goat away with the other hand.

“Jesus, Gucci, will you knock it off?”

She backs off from my hand, and I think she got the message, but the little bitch hasn’t gotten the message at all.

She starts to back away, and I can see it in her eyes.

“Don’t you dare.” I point at her, warning her, as I sit myself up.

But does she listen?

Nope. The little bastard charges.

“Gucci!”

I try to catch her, but she manages to butt me in the arm.

“Fuck! Little fucker! Speedy! Get your ass in here! Your goat’s gone mental!”

Gucci is head-butting any part of my body that she can. I grab hold of her and try to stop her, but she’s a strong little fucker.

Moments later, Speedy comes bursting into my room, looking like she just leaped out of bed. “What’s going on? What are you doing to Gucci?”

“What am I doing? Stopping your goat from butting the hell out of me—that’s what I’m doing! She’s gone fucking mental! I woke up to a head-butt in the face, and now, she won’t stop butting me!”

“Gucci! Stop,” she says in a firm tone.

But she’s fighting laughter; I can tell.

At the sound of Speedy’s voice, the goat immediately stops fighting me. She wriggles free from me and trots over to Speedy, like nothing just happened.

Psycho goat.

Speedy picks her up. “You shouldn’t be in here, baby girl. Now, what have you been doing to Gabe?” She gently taps the goat on the nose with her finger.

“Head-butting me is what it’s been doing,” I growl. “That goat’s as fucking nuts as its owner.”

Ignoring me, she says to the goat, “You’ve got to stop head-butting Gabe, baby girl. He’s being really kind, letting us stay here. Now, say you’re sorry to him.” She turns the goat to face me.

I swear to God, if the goat could give me the middle finger right now, she would.

“I don’t think she’s sorry,” I deadpan.

Speedy puts Gucci down and ushers her out of the room and into the hall, closing the door on her.

“Baaahhh!”

“I’ll be out in a second, Gucci.”

Silence.

Then, I hear little hooves trotting against the wood floor. She’s probably off to destroy something of mine.

Little fucker.

Speedy walks over to the bed and sits down on the edge.

Her hair is all mussed up. Her tan legs are right there, all gorgeous and enticing. She looks sexy as hell.

She’s a goddess. The goddess of sexual torture.

And she’s still wearing those barely there shorts and tank. And, sweet Christ, I can see her nipples through her top again. More so right now, as they’re erect and poking through the fabric. They look so pink and round and inviting.

God, I could just lean forward, take one in my mouth, and suck it through her shirt, making her all wet.

“I’m so sorry about Gucci. I think she’s just struggling with the change. I don’t know how she got out of my room. I must not have shut the door properly. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. Are you okay? You said she butted you in the face? Does it hurt? Gabe? Are you listening to me? Gabe?”

“Huh?”

Her hands go to her hips. “I said, are you listening to me?”

“Honestly, no. I can see your nipples through your top, and it’s really distracting.”

“Oh my God!” she screeches as she clamps her arms over her chest. She jumps to her feet. “You-you crude, rude pervert!”

My eyes follow her up.

God, just look at that tight little body.

“Hey. I’m not the one showing my tits off.”

“Jackass!”

“Cocktease.”

“I am not a cocktease! You-you’re just obsessed with staring at women’s breasts!”

“I don’t deny that I love women’s tits. But, when they’re put on display like yours are, what am I supposed to do?”

“Be a gentleman and not look. Or at least tell me that you can see them, so I can go change.”

I narrow my eyes. “I did tell you.”

“Not before you had a good stare at them! You’re just a damn pervert.”

“You’re the one who has a titty hard-on.”

“A titty hard-on? What are you? Twelve? Oh, and you’ve got drool on your chin by the way.” She gives a smug look.

I wipe my hand against my chin, which does in fact have drool on it. But it’s not mine; it’s that damn fucking goat’s. I dry my hand on the duvet.

“That fucking goat,” I mutter.

“She’s got a name,” she bites. “It’s Gucci.”

“It’s a stupid fucking name.”

“You’re stupid.”

“Now, who’s acting twelve, Nipple Girl?”

Her face is red with anger, her eyes flaring. She’s never looked hotter. My dick is as hard as steel under the covers.

“Shut up, Hoppy!” She stamps her foot and then stomps off.

“Is that all you’ve got?” I call to her back. “Aw, come on, Nipple Girl. Don’t go. I was just starting to have some fun.”

She half-turns. “You can have fun alone.”

She nods in the direction of my cock. I look down, and there’s a definite bulge showing under the covers. Seems it wasn’t hiding me as well as I thought.

Oh well.

“I’m going to make breakfast,” she says in a pissy tone. “Would you like one dose of arsenic in your coffee or two?”

“I’ll skip the arsenic, thanks. Just sugar and creamer.” I give her a saccharine smile. “Will your nipples be joining us for breakfast?”

Her eyes narrow at me. She looks sexy as fuck.

“I don’t know. Is your erection going to join us?” Her face flames the second she hears how that sounded.

I burst out laughing. “Speedy! You dirty little pervert!”

“I-I…” she stammers. “Ugh! Fine! Laugh it up, you big jerk!”

She yanks open my door.

“Aw, Speedy! Don’t go!”

I can’t breathe; I’m laughing so much. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard.

Hard.

And, now, I’m laughing even more.

“Do you want breakfast or not?” she snaps, arms fitted tight over her chest.

I calm my laughter, taking some deep breaths. “Don’t worry about breakfast,” I say, still a little breathless. “Tate’s coming, and he’s bringing breakfast with him.”

“Fine. You still want coffee?”

“Sure.”

She walks out the door.

I call behind her, “Don’t forget to put a bra on. Wouldn’t want you poking out Tate’s eyes with those nipples of yours!”

“Go to hell!” she yells as she stomps down the hall.

I hear her bedroom door slam, and I burst out laughing again.

Ava

“Um, what are you doing?”

I stop with the spoon midway to my mouth and look up at Gabe.

God, he looks good. The jackass.

He hasn’t shaved in days, so he’s covered in sexy stubble, and his hair looks like he just ran his fingers through it. He’s wearing athletic shorts again, as it’s all he can wear with the boot on his leg, and a running vest on top. He’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

Shame he’s a jerk.

“I’m eating breakfast.”

His brows draw together. “I told you that Tate was bringing breakfast.”

Tags: Samantha Towle Wardrobe Romance
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