Page 65 of Princes of Hollywood

Roarke thrusts in deep again and his mouth closes over my clit and sucks.

This time the scream escapes as he shoves me over the edge. My eyes squeeze shut at the intensity of the orgasm tearing me apart.

“Eyes on me, little warrior.”

I don’t resist Aiden’s order, and the look on his face makes me climb higher than I thought possible. My knees begin to give out, but hands support my waist.

“Fuck, kitten. Getting ready for the big show?”

I don’t turn to Wyatt, still locked in Aiden’s eyes. Roarke’s fingers gently withdraw. He gives a dark chuckle. “We wouldn’t want our girl to walk in unprepared.”

Wyatt holds me in place while Roarke walks to the bathroom. When he returns, a warm cloth glides over my pussy and then between my ass cheeks. My cheeks heat. Aiden’s hand in my hair keeps me from dropping my head.

Lifting me against him, Wyatt settles me onto Aiden’s lap. I rest my head over Aiden’s heart and close my eyes. I don’t know what these men have planned for me, but I can feel the walls around my heart crack just a little.

Alarms sound in my brain, but I ignore them as I snuggle into Aiden and take a deep breath. I’ll deal with the consequences later. Right now, I just want to enjoy this moment.

Chapter 17

I Will Wait

AIDEN

When Greer’s heart and breathing slow, Roarke and I help her back into her clothes. Her gaze keeps returning to my eyes and dropping to my mouth. My cock twitches at the memory of her warm, wet mouth sucking on my fingers. How her brown eyes held mine.

The soft skin of her lips brushing against my skin made me want to lean in and taste her. But I can’t. Not yet. I’m not sure if it’s the ghost of my ex haunting me or something else. Something darker.

Maybe I worry about my desire for her.

It draws me in and makes me crave her, just like my addiction. I fight so hard every day to stay sober. Even though I haven’t tasted her, I’m worried she’ll become another addiction. One I won’t be able to fight off if I have to.

After she sorts through Roarke’s closet, we take a load of his clothes to the laundry room. Unable to resist, I kiss the top of her head and inhale that sweet, intoxicating vanilla scent mixed with her unique scent.

“I’ll be on the main floor, reviewing my script.”

The heat of her body lures me, making me hesitate to pull away from her. She tips her face up.

When her light brown eyes collide with mine, for a moment, I almost forget myself and lean in to taste her. Almost. I worry a taste won’t be enough. A spark of hope lights in her eyes before it goes out when I draw away.

My chest tightens as I climb the stairs. It hurts that I’m hurting her, but this is for the best. At least for now.

It’s almost like a test to see if I can resist. But eventually I’ll succumb to her; it’s inevitable. I want the taste of her on my lips and that sweet body writhing beneath mine.

She comes up a few minutes later and heads into the kitchen, working quietly, while I read. It’s blissfully domestic, and I consider getting her that fifties dress, imagining her greeting me at the door when I get home from set with a smile and a martini—

And that’s where the fantasy crashes and burns.

I’m an addict. My failed marriage drove me to drink. Excessively. To hide from the world that wanted to drag me through the press. Siobhan left me, but she was the injured party. I didn’t spend enough time with her. I was too cold. Allegations of an affair hit the entertainment news like a ton of bricks.

I never cheated on my wife. But I loved her and needed her. She kept me grounded in an industry that can make you feel invincible when it loves you. And can brutalize you while you’re already on your way down.

When she left me, I lost an important part of me. The fear of becoming reliant on a woman again, even one as sweet and submissive as Greer, plagues me and keeps me from giving in to the desire she stirs.

I focus on the script as Roarke walks through on his way to the workout room. His shorts hang low on his hips and his tank top shows off his massive arms. He lifts Greer onto the counter, making her squeak, before claiming those full lips of hers. The rise of jealous heat inside me isn’t from him kissing her, but the fact he can kiss her without a second thought.

He can taste her sweetness without worrying if she’ll just become another addiction. Something I can’t seem to live without.

When he lifts his head, his gaze meets mine. Roarke knows my brain. He knows how I work. We’ve been friends too long. He knows I want her without me telling him, and he knows that every time I don’t do what I want to, it hurts her.

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