Page 77 of Beyond the Fame

“I’m not nervous,” she whispers.

I stalk to her, and she sucks in a breath.

“Let me help.” I kiss the curve of her neck. “Let me fuck the worry out of you.”

“I’m not worried. I just—”

A moan cuts off her words when I tweak her nipple.

“No talking. I want to worship your body for the rest of tonight and tomorrow. We’ll talk Monday morning before we leave.”

“We should—”

I kiss her, desperate to distract her. Thankfully, it works, and her tense body melts into my arms.

I walk us away from the bedroom and to the balcony, which stretches from her bedroom, past the living area, to the end of my bedroom. While still attached to her lips, I open the door and we stumble out.

Finally, I release her mouth.

“Turn around and hold on to the railing.”

Her brow shoots up. “I thought I was the one who got to order you around?”

“Then order me to fuck you on this balcony.”

She bites her lip and smooths her palms up and down my chest. “What if someone sees us? Paparazzi are still lurking around. They might sneak in and take pictures and...”

Her face falls, obviously thinking about this morning and the article. I take my phone out of my pocket and I type out a message.

Me: Can you do me a favor and call in a sighting to divert the paparazzi away from the resort?

The three little dots pop up almost immediately.

Mylan: Done

He follows up by sending me a ton of emojis, including a smirking face, the kissy face, an eggplant, the peach, and the one that looks like jizz. I reply with a middle finger emoji.

“It's taken care of. The paparazzi won’t catch us.”

She watches me set my phone on the small table between two lounge chairs. “What did you just do?”

“Mylan is going to call in a sighting. All the Rats will scurry away from the resort, hoping to get a shot of him.”

“Fake sighting? Rats?”

“The paparazzi are scum. Rats. Mylan will tip them off that he and Lana are out and about. Maybe he’ll say they’re at a club. They'll go nuts, especially since he never goes out anymore.”

“Smart.”

“Yeah, and it’s going to piss them off. But that means they won’t be lurking around here trying to get pictures. And even if they are paying guests to get shots of us, no one knows which room we’re in. We’re on the top floor. If anyone looks up here, it’ll be too dark to recognize us. We'll just be two strangers fucking on a balcony. If you still want to, that is.”

“Oh, I want to.”

“Good. Now, give me my orders.”

“So demanding.”

I get on my knees before her and bow my head. “Please, Rebecca, tell me what you want.”

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