Page 6 of Princes of Hollywood

“You are quite small.” He goes down on his knee, and the top of his head is eye level with me. He looks over my baggy T-shirt and sighs. His light eyes lift to mine. It’s so weird to look down at someone. “I swear this isn’t a line, but this would be easier if you took off your T-shirt.”

Uh, fuck, yeah, that would be fine, but…

“I’m not wearing a bra,” I whisper loudly. I can’t even hear the guys upstairs talking anymore. It feels like we’re completely alone.

He arches an eyebrow. “I’ve seen tits before.”

I cock my eyebrow back. “Not mine you haven’t.”

“I’m a professional actor.” His face is completely emotionless. “I’ve been on set with some of the most beautiful women in the world without their tops on. I’m sure your breasts are…”

That pause is uncalled for as he gestures toward my chest. I cross my arms over my breasts and glare at him.

“Quite adequate.” He grins like I’m one of those women on set who needs convincing to take their tops off and be filmed. “However, if we don’t do this quickly, I’m sure Roarke will be down here any minute. He loves to watch almost as much as he loves to be watched.”

My mouth drops open. That implication sounds very sexual. I glance over my shoulder like he might bound down the steps, intent on watching me pee. Yeah, that’s not happening.

Before I can second-guess myself, I grab the hem of my oversized shirt and take it off, dropping it to the side before crossing my arms over my breasts.

“Larger than I thought.” Aiden’s words lack any inflection, purely formal. His eyes lift to mine, and there’s a gentleness in them I wasn’t expecting. “I’m going to pat down your hips and legs. Then you’ll turn around for me to check your back. I’ll check your T-shirt and then you can put it back on.”

“Okay.” In the world of humiliating stories from my life, this doesn’t even crack the top five. It’s not pleasant, but I can deal with Aiden Clyborne having seen my breasts. Hell, maybe I’ll even tell my imaginary grandkids too.

Aiden nods and his gaze shifts down. His large hands encircle my waist, brushing my bare skin, and an involuntary shiver works through me. He pauses.

“Sorry,” I say.

He works his hands down the outside of my legs. “Not sure what you’re sorry for. I’m the one feeling you up when we’ve just met.”

Having this superstar of a man kneeling before me is already intoxicating, but with his hands on me…Fuck me, he’s gorgeous even this close up. His fingers trail up the bottom of my pant legs along my calves, touching my bare skin and sending dizzying sparks throughout me. I suck in a breath and look up at the ceiling.

Think of something gross, like Chad. It doesn’t seem to help.

“I guess I’m used to apologizing.” Words spill out of me as he checks my other calf. Warmth surges through me as he trails them gently up the inside of my legs. “It’s easier to say sorry and have the other person dismiss you than to acknowledge what you feel sometimes.”

“Turn around, please.”

I lower my eyes to his, but he’s keeping his face devoid of emotion. Turning, I glance toward the stairs, wondering if someone really will come to check on us. Aiden’s hands settle on my hips, and I inhale sharply at the feel of him behind me.

“It’s my turn to apologize, but I’ll need to touch you between your legs.”

“Like a TSA check.” Done by one of the sexiest men alive. My blood boils. “Oh. Yeah, whatever you need to do.”

Like it isn’t a big deal that Aiden Clyborne is going to cup my pussy. I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet, and hopefully he won’t be able to tell.

“Honestly, I’ll be quick.” His fingers tighten on my hips.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” It comes out before I can stop it.

“Maybe.” He chuckles. “It’s been a while.”

My heart clenches thinking of his brutal divorce.

Before I can think of another thing to say, his hand slides down between my legs. I bite my lip to stop from making some weird sex noise that would be awkward for both of us. His fingers press against me. He’s just checking to make sure I’m not storing pee somewhere. Nothing else. He draws his hand away.

“Done.”

I turn back around with my arms over my breasts. He holds my T-shirt, running his hands along it before righting it. He lifts his eyes to mine and slides my shirt on over my head. The fabric falls down, and I slip my arms into the sleeves before backing away as he stands.

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