Page 12 of Hollywood

Hollywood’s gaze slid over my face and down to the swell of my breasts, which only made my nipples harder and more visible through the thin fabric. The strip of midriff on display made his nostrils flare and the answering ache between my thighs turned into a hot lava and arousal. His big hands balled into fists and his jaw clenched. Hard.

“Hollywood?” There it went again, that breathlessness that I couldn’t seem to escape when he was around. “You wanted something?”

He licked his lips, and I swear to every god in existence that I felt his tongue in places that made me hotter. Wetter. More vibrational with want. With urgent need. “Yeah.” His voice was low and deep, thick with tension. “You hungry? We’re going out for food,” he said before I could answer.

“I could eat, but I need to get ready first.” I jumped out of bed, and I enjoyed the way his gaze raked over my body. Sure, it made everything hot and I pulsed with need, but it also made it impossible to think straight.

“You have thirty minutes.”

I smiled sweetly and grabbed the hem of my tank top, yanking it over my head as I made my way towards him. “No problem.” I lied easily and brushed past him as I made my way to the bathroom and a much-needed shower. “Thirty minutes.”

Fifty minutes later, I found Hollywood waiting for me downstairs with a frown on his face that made me smile. “It’s been longer than thirty minutes.”

“True,” I agreed. “But I needed the extra time to focus since you interrupted my wake up process.”

Hollywood got to his feet and stared at me in my fitted gray denim and black tank top that I paired with black combat boots. My makeup was done, and I wore two braids that would accommodate the stupid helmet he would make me wear. “First, you’re going to help me find a place to live.”

“Property shopping? How domestic.” It was an odd request, but I went along with it because I was too fucking curious about Hollywood the man and I would do anything to spend more time with him, no matter how much it impacted my libido. “What are you looking for?”

He shrugged. “Fuck if I know, a place to lay my head that has enough room for me to breathe.” Those last words were visceral, and I knew this was important.

I couldn’t imagine what it was like in prison, and I hoped I never found out through firsthand experience. “Okay. House or apartment?”

He sighed. “I’d prefer a house, so I don’t have to share walls or hear other people that close.” It was another reminder that he was fresh from prison, and he hadn’t recovered yet, maybe he never would.

I didn’t have a clue. I wanted to ask him more about his time in prison, but it felt invasive or maybe just too intimate, which was ridiculous since we were technically living together. Instead, I flirted outrageously with him, mostly because thepiranha of a realtor made it crystal clear that she wanted him all up inherreal estate. “Imagine gazing up at the stars while I ride you like a motorcycle.”

Hollywood’s gaze darkened and his nostrils flared. A cough escaped and then I was rewarded with a brilliant, blinding smile. It really was a grin worthy of the big screen. “Doubt I’ll be able to stop imagining that for a long damn time, Winter.”

My pulse raced. “Good.” I wandered around the semi-furnished house thinking about how weird this was, house hunting with a man I barely knew but who was also kind of like family to me. “It’s nice. Can we rent before making a decision?”

The realtor was shocked by my question, as if she thought maybe I wasn’t any competition for her. Maybe I wasn’t, but Hollywood was helping me so the least I could do was help him in return. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem if you’re serious about buying.” Her gaze bounced from me to Hollywood in search of an answer.

“I’m serious, but she’s right. I’d like to make sure this neighborhood is for me.” His gaze flicked to mine, full of gratitude.

“Would ninety days be enough?”

“More than,” he growled and stalked over to me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Thanks,” he whispered in my ear.

“Anytime.” That one word came out on a breathy whisper because yeah, I was turned on. Again. Or maybestill.

“We can have a lease ready in forty-eight hours,” the realtor said, breaking into our sexual tension filled staredown. “Sooner if you start the purchase process.”

“Got it. Put together an offer,” he told her, his voice firm and commanding. “This place has been on the market for six months so knock thirty grand off their asking price. If they accept it, I’ll make my decision in thirty days.”

A shiver ran down my spine at this business-y side of him.

The realtor’s eyes widened with dollar signs at Hollywood’s orders. “Absolutely. What about financing,” she asked as her gaze slid to his leather vest.

“Cash offer.”

She smiled wide and rushed to the front door, motioning us forward. “I’ll have an answer for you by end of business today, I’m sure. Pleasure doing business with you,” she told him before her gaze shot to me. “If nothing else.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh at just how forward she was being, then again, she was a woman who got what she wanted because she went after her. Hell, I could probably learn a few things from her. “She totally wanted to bang you.”

He laughed. “I’m aware.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Why would I ask such a silly question? Of course it did. Hollywood wasn’t just gorgeous and rugged, but he exuded the kind of confidence that was like catnip for any female with a pulse and a working vagina.

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