Page 81 of Princes of Hollywood

“I want you, Aiden.” I draw in his citrus scent and know he’s right. He could become an addiction for me. We definitely need time to come to terms with this attraction, because part of me really just wants to give in and fuck the consequences.

His forehead rests against mine. “Come talk to me while I shower, little warrior. I want to see what I can’t have. Yet.”

Chapter 21

Dress You Up

GREER

I sit beside Aiden on the couch while a woman and a man work in the kitchen. They’re early for the party, but they need prep time. Or at least that’s what Aiden told me.

Roarke bursts in the door and spots me.

“Poppet!” He lifts me off the couch and onto his lap. “I’ve missed you.”

He kisses me like we haven’t seen each other in days, devouring me whole. This isn’t the casual kisses of earlier. This is the “I need inside you” kisses that have me wet and ready for whatever he wants. His hands slide down to my hips until he’s rocking his hard cock against my pussy.

I whimper into his mouth and my fingers cling to his hair.

Dishes clatter in the kitchen. I pull away on a gasp and glance toward the sound. They aren’t looking this way. At least not now.

“Roarke,” I chastise in a whisper. My cheeks are on fire. Fuck, I forgot there were other people in the house. His kisses are potent and consuming.

“Mmm, say my name again, poppet.” He leans in, but I hold him back with a hand against his chest. He smirks and gives me a look that melts my panties. “Come on, Greer. Everyone enjoys a show.”

He slides his hand over my ass. Yeah, touching him is bad. I scramble to sit beside him. Aiden draws me into his side to protect me.

Grinning, Roarke shakes his head. He leans in close to me. “See, this is the joy of NDAs. I could fuck you in front of the chefs and they couldn’t say a word about it.”

My mouth falls open because the look in his blue eyes says he wants to do just that. What the hell do I say to that? And why am I not more appalled?

“Perhaps later.” Mason strides across the room. He wears a dark suit with a white shirt unbuttoned at the top. My mouth waters at how well it fits him, showing off his lean muscles. His hair is perfectly styled. Handsome doesn’t describe him well enough. Dark, dangerous, devastating might be closer. “I need to take care of Greer.”

My eyes widen. A flash of heat pours through me. Take care of me? What does that mean?

Mason holds his hand out. I stare at it for a heartbeat before I take it. He tugs me against him, making me gasp. The heat of his body covers me as he leans down to my ear.

“When we have a chance to go over my expectations, I want you to remember this moment when I punish you.” His voice is low and dark and stirs something wicked inside me.

Punish me? My breath catches as I look up into his piercing eyes.

With a smirk, he leads me upstairs. We don’t go toward my room, but the other direction. When he opens the door to his bedroom, my heart skips a little. Where the other bedrooms were light and bright, Mason’s bedroom is dark. The walls are still light, but the furniture is dark, heavy wood, and his massive bed is covered in dark red coverings.

Silver glints in the light, and I swear I see metal rings attached to his headboard. But I can’t quite tell before he opens a door and pulls me inside. My jaw drops as I look around the huge closet filled with women’s clothes.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I should have asked before. A stone falls in my stomach. Just another reminder that I don’t know these men that well. I assumed they were all available when they made me the offer to fuck me, but that might not be the case.

He smirks. “No girlfriend, but I have a mouse.”

What? I turn to him, trying to figure out what he’s saying. His focus is on the racks behind me as he mentally searches the clothes.

“Take off your clothes.” He steps away from me and slides the hangers, taking in a red dress and then passing by it.

I bite my lip. Should I take off my clothes or ask him to explain himself? Part of me really wants to behave and the other part wants to question. I grab the hem of my shirt and ask, “Why?”

“You can’t wear that to the dinner, Greer. This will go quicker if you just obey me.” His tone is condescending and short, but I let it go.

Maybe Mason is worried about tonight. If I obey him, maybe that will help him.

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