Breaking Hollywood (Wardrobe #2)

I run my hand through her hair, and gripping the strands, I ease her head back off my cock. She releases me with a wet pop that has desire bolting down my spine.

“My turn,” I tell her.

Then, I grab her arm and pull her to her feet. I turn us around, and I push her back against the wall.

“You’re still dressed.”

“I am.”

I grab the front of her button-up dress and rip it open. She gasps. The buttons ping across the marble floor. I push the tattered dress off her shoulders. Next goes her bra. Then, her panties.

“Much better.” I run my eyes up and down her body. The curve of her hips. The softness of her belly. Her tits…those fucking gorgeous tits that belong entirely to me. As does her pussy.

All of her belongs to me.

And I’m hers completely. She owns me.

Something possessive and primal rips through me.

I slam my mouth down onto hers. Her arms wrap around my neck. I grab her ass and hike her legs up around my waist.

“I was going to lick your pussy, but I can’t fucking wait. I need to fuck you now.”

“Yes. Do it. Fuck me.”

I thrust up inside her. She screams out my name. I start to fuck her with the maddening intensity that I feel for her.

I pump every feeling I have for her into her with my cock, trying to show her how I feel with my body. I can tell her a thousand times that I love her, but it just doesn’t feel like enough. It’s not a big enough word to express how much I want and need and desire her.

“Gabe. Gabe. Gabe,” she chants my name.

“You feel me inside you? How deep I am?”

“Yes. Yes!”

“This is it, baby. Just you and me. Forever.”

“Forever. Yes, Gabe. God, yes,” her breathless voice whispers over my skin.

Her small hands slide up into my hair, tugging on it. My mouth drops to her neck, and I kiss and lick at her skin.

“Bite me,” she moans. “Mark me. Please.”

Her words are like gasoline on a match. Desire rages through my blood. It roars in my ears.

I sink my teeth into the delicate skin at the base of her neck and suck hard.

Her heels dig into my ass, pushing her pussy even closer to me. Her hands drop to my back, and she rakes her nails into my skin.

“Fuck yeah.” I pump in and out of her. “That feels so fucking good.”

She drags her nails up and down my back, and I take her mouth in a desperate kiss.

We’re all teeth and tongues and total fucking need.

“Are you close? ’Cause I can’t hold off much longer. It’s too fucking good.”

“I’m nearly there. Just keep doing…God, yeah, just keep doing that.”

Knowing just what will set her off, I hold her up under her ass with one hand while the other pinches her nipple hard.

She screams. Her muscles clamp down on my cock as she starts to come, setting off my own orgasm.

I pour everything I have inside her. It shakes me to the core.

My legs are trembling, my heart pounding.

Her head drops to my shoulder.

“Jesus,” I utter.

“Yeah.” She lifts her head from my shoulder and tenderly kisses my jaw.

I turn my head in and capture her lips with mine.

She hums a sweet sound and wraps her arms around my neck.

“Love you,” she murmurs.

“Love you, too.”

I give her one final kiss and then push off the wall. I carry her to the bathroom to clean up.

I deposit her on the counter and run the faucet, wetting a cloth under it. I wring it out and then wipe between her legs.

I clean myself up, and still naked, I pick her back up and walk us to the living room.

“We not dressing?” she asks.

“No point. I’ll only be getting you naked again soon.”

I put her down on the sofa, and she stretches her gorgeous body out on it. I walk over to the window and open it.

I grab my smokes off the coffee table and light up.

“Baaahhh!”

“Shit! Gucci’s still in the kitchen.” Speedy bolts up. “I can’t believe I forgot to let her out. That’s your fault, distracting me with hot wall sex.”

“Good to know I have that effect on you. You stay there. I’ll let her out.”

I head to the kitchen and push the door open. The moment I do, Gucci head-butts me in my leg and then bolts off to the living room to find Speedy.

“You’re welcome,” I call after the little brat.

I go back into the living room, and Ava’s on her phone, a blanket wrapped around her.

“No, that’s fine. I can make that day. Sure, yeah. That’s great. Thank you so much.” She hangs her phone up, a big smile on her face.

“Good news?”

“I got a job!”

“No way! That’s amazing, babe.” I drop my cigarette in the ashtray and go over and hug her. “Where’s the job?”

“Here in LA. At a theater downtown. They need a new wardrobe mistress. Their last one just upped and quit on them. So, they need me to start pretty much straightaway.”

“That’s fucking great. I’m happy for you.” I reach over and grab my cigarette. Then, I sit back and take a drag.

“I’m happy for me, too.” She snuggles into my body.

“So, when do you start?”

“They want me to go in on Monday.”

“So, I’ve got two more days with you.”

She tips her head back and looks up at me. “You’ve got forever with me, if you still want me?”

I lean my head down and kiss her lips. “I’ll always want you.”

“Good.” She plants another kiss on me. Then, she moves her head and tucks it under my chin.

I take another drag of my cigarette and watch the smoke curl up into the air.

“What a great day,” she murmurs. “You got your boot off, and I got a new job.”

“We should go out. Celebrate.”

She sits up and turns to me. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I smile. “Go get dressed ’cause I’m taking you out dancing.”

Ava

My hair is up in a sleek ponytail with some strands framing my face. My makeup is neutral, my lips red. I’m wearing a Victoria Beckham dress that I snagged from the last film I worked on. It’s a calf-length fifties-style dress with a rosebud pattern, cinched waist, and asymmetrical high neckline. I’ve red heels on my feet.

I spray my favorite perfume on, and I’m ready to go.

I look at my reflection in the mirror.

My cheeks are flush. I look happy.

That’s because I am.

I’m going out dancing with the man I love, and I’ve just gotten a new job. There’s a lot to be happy about right now.

I smooth my hands down the front of my dress. Grab my clutch and head out of my room to Gabe. Gucci trots along behind me.

When I walk into the living room, my heart nearly trips over itself.

Gabe is standing at the window, his back to me. He’s wearing a gunmetal-gray suit. His hands are pushed into the pockets of the pants.

“Hey.” I smile.

But he doesn’t reply. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t turn around.

“Gabe?” I step closer, my heels clicking against the floor, suddenly loud in the silence.

“Why?” That one word, whispered with a serious intensity, confuses me but sends a warning signal to my brain that something’s definitely not right.

“Why what? What’s wrong, Gabe?” I take another step closer, putting my clutch down on the arm of the sofa.

Finally, he turns. And I wish he hadn’t. His face is like stone.

My brow furrows. “What’s happened?”

His hands drop from his pockets. He balls them at his sides. “Why did you do it, Ava?”

“Do what? You’re going to have to help me out here because I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play fucking stupid!” he roars, surprising the hell out of me. “I know, Ava. I fucking know. Just tell me why you did it.”

I frown. “Don’t yell at me like that, Gabriel. And I honestly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. What did I supposedly do?”