Page 21 of Princes of Hollywood

“Yours?” Roarke holds up a pair of sneakers. Obviously mine, since they look like children’s. I nod, and he grabs a bag off the floor to shove shoes in.

The knocking begins. “Hey, man.”

Chad’s found his voice. I roll my eyes. But when I meet Roarke’s, he’s pissed.

I bite my lip. Chad can’t fuck this up for me. “I’ll deal with him.”

“Fuck that.” Roarke takes the bag from me and lifts me up before backing me against the wall next to the door.

I squeal at the abrupt weightless feeling and then gasp when he presses against me. My legs and arms wrap around him, drawing him in close, holding on. His hand grabs my ass to hold me against him. Fuck, he feels good. All hard muscle.

My cheeks are on fire, and I can’t lift my gaze to his. I’m not sure what he’s hoping to prove, but my cheeks aren’t the only thing on fire.

The doorknob rattles. I turn to watch it, but Roarke grabs my chin and makes me look into his eyes. My panties dampen at the heat there.

“Want payback, poppet?” Roarke raises his eyebrow. His thumb trails over my lips and they part for him. Pretty sure I’ll do whatever he wants when he looks at me like that.

The doorknob turns. I remember Chad with my panties on the bed. Payback would be fantastic. I lift my head in a nod and Roarke slams his lips down on mine. My breath catches.

The door opens. “What the fuck?”

But then Roarke opens his mouth over mine and his tongue teases along my lips. I part them as I finally breathe. He growls his approval, making me wet and achy for him. It’s not a gentle, tentative exploring kiss like a first kiss usually is. This is hungry and greedy and the best kiss I’ve ever had.

He tastes like mint and something darker. I want to sink into him. His cock hardens between my thighs and presses against my pussy. My thighs tighten around his hips.

The door slams shut beside us, jolting me out of the moment. I pull away, my head hitting the wall behind me. My cheeks feel like they are on fire. Oh, hell, what the fuck did I just do?

“Uh…” Yeah, my brain can’t be expected to function right now.

Roarke grins and nuzzles my neck. “Have you ever faked an orgasm, poppet?”

My pulse throbs in my veins. “Um, what?”

He lifts his head so our eyes meet. “Fake an orgasm so asswipe out there gets the picture.”

Heat flares through me. “Um, I don’t—”

Have I faked it? Yes, especially with Chad. Am I good at faking it? Probably not, but it never bothered Chad either.

“Come on, poppet. If you were with that tool, you must know how to fake it.” His thumb brushes over my lip and a whimper escapes me. “I doubt he knows how to make you scream like I can.”

Fuck. My breath catches at the heat in his eyes.

“I’m not…” Fuck. Time to admit that I’m kind of bad at the whole sex thing. “I’m not loud during sex.”

Roarke grins wickedly. “Challenge accepted.”

“What?” I push my hands against his shoulders so he’ll let me down, but he doesn’t budge. “We should finish getting my stuff and go.”

“We’ll go.” He smirks. “But only if you act like you’re coming so hard, you’re choking the life out of my cock.”

My mouth drops open. He grinds his denim-covered erection against my pussy. Oh shit, that feels amazing. A low moan slips past my lips.

“Like that, poppet. Only louder.” His hips rotate against mine in a steady rhythm. My insides boil with liquid heat, chasing away all the doubts and making me forget why we’re doing this.

My fingers clutch onto his shoulders. His bright blue eyes are darker as he studies my face. My insides are winding tight with every motion of his hips. His fingers trail down my neck, sending shivers through me.

“What do you like, Greer?” He licks my lip, all while rocking his hips into mine. My lips part on a gasp.

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