Hollywood Playboy (Hollywood Royalty 1)

“I have all the numbers on the original call sheet in case we need to contact you, and I want to know if you would like to have lunch with me.” I roll my eyes at him and how fast that entire sentence flowed from those sexy as sin lips of his. The phone accidentally falls out of my hand, landing on my stomach. Picking it back up, I see that his mouth is open. “Are you in bed?”

“Um, yeah, it’s a relax day. That is what it said on the call sheet. Did I read the itinerary wrong or something?” I ask him, and I see his mouth close and then open. He tries to say something, but the words aren’t coming out.

“Are you . . .?” he stutters, and my eyebrows pinch together. “Are you naked?” he asks, and it’s almost as if the words pain him to say. Then his eyes change, the brightness and laughter color gone and the shade darker. “Like naked, naked?”

“Why do you care if I’m naked?” I ask him, getting up on my elbow but holding the covers to my chest.

He rolls his eyes and takes a huge swallow, and I watch his Adam’s apple going up and down slowly, almost like his mouth is dry. “I don’t care.” He throws the same line back at me that I threw at him.

Oh, how the tables have turned. I lean in closer to the phone, a hair’s width away from the camera so only my mouth is visible to his naked eye, and I tell him to come closer. When he gets close enough, I lower my voice and say, “Liar.” It comes out on a whisper, and I disconnect the call. I’m smiling to myself, celebrating the power of fucking karma, when a text comes in.

Tyler: Pick you up in thirty, dress warm.

Me: NO

Tyler: See you then. Room 1712, right?

Me: NO means NO

Tyler: Fine, then we can sit in your bed all day and watch Dateline while you lie there NAKED and RELAX.

Me: I’ll be ready in thirty.

I shake my head. “Well fucking played, Romeo.”

Chapter Thirteen

Tyler

Two rappers are at each other’s throats. The question is, who is going to win this rap battle?

I’m putting on my black riding boots when I hear a knock on the door and then the click of the lock. Looking up, I see Cassie coming into the room, sticking her head in the room first. Then she looks at me sitting on the couch in front of the television, which is playing another fucking Dateline episode. “Is it safe?” she whispers, and I look at her, my eyebrows furrowing. “Roxanne,” she says, and I just nod at her.

“Never happened,” I tell her, grabbing the black leather jacket and shrugging it on, my long-sleeved white shirt showing.

“What are you talking about?” she says, walking in and looking into the bedroom. “I thought I saw you and Roxanne running into the hotel last night.”

“Yeah,” I say, grabbing my phone and tucking it into my back pocket, then grabbing my wallet and putting it in the other pocket. “Changed my mind.”

“What?” She looks shocked. “Are you ill?”

“Nope,” I say, picking up my room key. “I’m out. I’ll see you later.” Twisting the handle of the door, I listen to the click and pull the door open.

“Where the hell are we going?” she asks me, coming closer to the door.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” I tell her, grabbing my sunglasses from the inside pocket of my jacket. “I’m going for a ride, and I’ll be back later,” I say and walk out, not giving her a chance to ask anymore questions. I press the down button and wait impatiently for the elevator to come. When it finally does, I press the button for the seventeenth floor. I watch the numbers count down until the door opens, and there she stands. I try not to smile, but just seeing her standing there in her tight blue jeans, a white T-shirt tucked into the front with the back hanging, and a black leather jacket hanging open. Her white Adidas running shoes making the whole outfit.

“You ready?” I ask her when she walks into the elevator, and I press L for the lobby.

“No,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a secret,” I say, leaning back against the elevator wall. We arrive in the lobby before she has a chance to ask me another question. “Let’s bounce.” I smirk at her while she glares. She walks next to me but a touch back, following me around the people in the lobby. I walk out the revolving door and nod at the doorman. You see, after I went back to my room with another raging fucking hard-on, I knew I had to get away from it all. I needed to clear my mind, so I called down to the concierge and ordered the only thing that I could do to take me away from all the madness.