Page 15 of Princes of Hollywood

“I bet. Look, I’m a lot starstruck right now and left my apartment in a hurry because my asshole ex thought he deserved blow jobs as payment for the rent and used my panties to get himself off.”

Roarke’s fingers tighten on the back of my neck before he gentles and massages the muscles. “Sounds like he deserves to be an ex.”

I curl into his hand like a cat needing touch. When was the last time someone touched me like this? Chad always went straight to the typical spots and rarely spent any time on my neck. A massage wasn’t on the menu.

“Mmm. He cheated on me. A lot.” My eyelids grow heavy, and I sway toward his heat.

“Sounds like you should fuck me to get back at him.” Roarke’s voice lures me. But when his words register, I laugh and draw away from him.

“I’m going to have to watch you, aren’t I?” I arch my eyebrow. It’s hard to take him seriously. I’m not sure why he wants in my pants, but he doesn’t appear put off by my rebuffs.

He takes the bag out of my hand and gives me a cheeky grin. “Being watched is my specialty.”

Aiden’s words come back, and the flush working up my neck goes into overdrive. Roarke enjoys watching almost as much as he enjoys being watched. He did say he wanted to fuck me on the table. Right then and there.

In front of the others.

Heat pours through my veins. What would that be like? Their hot gazes on my naked body while Roarke touches and fucks me. Would they all touch me?

Fuck. I’m aroused and bothered just by the thought of it. This is insane. I’m supposed to be starstruck and have all these complicated feelings, but they aren’t supposed to offer to fulfill my fantasies. Or tell me I’m part of theirs.

“Still with me, poppet?” Roarke gives me a cocky grin. I must have spaced out there for a moment.

Nodding, I worry my lip. His gaze drops to my lips and darkens. An answering pulse throbs through me. For a second, we remain almost breathless in our spots.

Roarke’s eyes lift to mine, and for a second, the attraction flows between us and it feels like he’s going to kiss me. I don’t know what face I make, but Roarke is subtle in the way he pulls away slightly, making my breath slam back into me.

“This it?” He lifts the bag.

I glance toward it and notice the bulge in his pants. My cheeks heat and I spin to close the trunk. “Yup. That’s all.”

Twenty-four hours. I bet if I make it twenty-four hours with them, some of this heat will wear off. They’ll decide they don’t really want me and things will be normal. I’ll be the staff and they’ll be the megamillionaires bringing home randoms.

My fingers tighten on my keys. Okay, not loving the idea of randoms. I’ll get over that too. I just need time. Time to adjust, just like with a new foster family.

Learn the rules and figure out how to survive. Try not to give them reasons to send me away.

Taking a cleansing breath, I follow Roarke back into the house and up the stairs to what will be my bedroom. My room is in the corner, so I look over the pool and see the ocean beyond it. Unable to resist, I walk over to the window and open it. The sound of crashing waves fills the space.

Mary had a pool. She even tried to get me to swim, but I’ve always been terrified of the water. So I never learned how.

“Do you have a swimsuit, poppet?” Roarke closes in behind me, but he doesn’t touch me, like he already knows that would be too much for me. The warmth of his body is almost overwhelming.

“I don’t swim.” The words slip out of me as I stare at the reflection of the beautiful blue pool.

“You aren’t afraid of the water, are you?” He sounds personally offended.

I turn around and he’s right there, towering over me.

“No, I’m not afraid,” I lie. It’s an easy lie. One I’ve told most of my life. Being afraid only got me attention I didn’t want.

“Do you not like getting wet?” His wiggling eyebrows ruin the seriousness from his previous statement.

“I just never learned.” I move past him to my bag and pull out my random selections. “When I was seven, we went to the beach. I ran in and out of the water while my mom watched. We played in the sand and water all day until I was as red as a lobster. We didn’t have a pool or friends with pools. We never went back to the beach. No reason to learn to swim.”

Roarke sits on the bed beside my bag and pulls out a pair of panties. I snatch them from his hand and grab a few more things to put in the dresser.

“I’m going to teach you to swim, poppet.” He pulls out a T-shirt with Fuck Off written on it. He holds it up with a quizzical brow.

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