Page 34 of Loved Out Loud
Eleven
HAZEL
A fruit platesits untouched beside me as my fingers fly over the keyboard. The cool, dark hotel room provides the perfect backdrop for the story taking shape in my mind. I’ve managed to get a couple thousand words written for the first few chapters. My back aches as I slide my laptop to the side and stand up to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge.
A feather light tapping sounds from my door. I freeze, trying to figure out if I just heard someone at my door. It’s just the band and security on this floor, so I feel more comfortable investigating than I normally would.
Right as I get to the door, I hear the knocking again. I look through the peephole and see a sexy as hell rock star standing on the other side. Stone has a pair of glasses on and his guitar hanging from his shoulders.
I swipe my tongue over my teeth, praying I don’t have any poppy seeds from salad dressing stuck in them before unlatching the locks and opening the door.
“It’s not my birthday,” I say as I swing the door open and step aside.
He tilts his head and narrows his eyes a fraction. “What?”
I gesture to the guitar. “You’re at my door like one of those people who gets paid to sing a song as a message.”
He chuckles and strums a few bars of Happy Birthday. “When is your birthday?”
“March third.” I close the door as he walks past me. “What are you doing here?”
“My babysitter passed out. Thought I’d come see if you were still up and working.” He glances at the notebooks, fruit, and laptop on my bed. “And I see you are.”
“Decided to come body double?”
“Do you mind?”
“Nope. I just finished writing, but I have a few character sketches and location notes to hammer out.” I sit back down on the bed and situate myself. “Make yourself at home.”
He walks over to the couch and pulls a small notebook and stub of a pencil out of his pocket, dropping them on the cushion beside him. “It won’t bother you if I play?”
“Nope.” I’m already creating the first character sketch, his presence pushed to the back of my mind.
I lose myself to the voice of my characters as I delve deep into their psyches, picking apart their motives and lies they tell themselves. Sierra even suggested adding sexual preferences and kinks to their sketches.
I have pages of notes written when Stone sets his guitar to the side and plops down at the foot of my bed.
“Make yourself at home,” I say wryly.
“I will.” He reaches over and plucks a few grapes from the fruit plate. “What are you working on?”
“Character sketches.”
“Like drawings?” He arches a brow.
“No. Just in-depth notes about each character.” I flip my computer around, so he can see the paragraphs of text.
He leans forward, his stunningly blue eyes scanning the words quickly. “Pegging?” His lips lift in a slow grin.
My cheeks heat. “I’m just considering it.”
“Is it something you like to do?”
“No,” I laugh nervously. “Do I look like the type to do that?”
His eyes rake over me, from my face down over my chest and along the exposed skin of my outstretched legs. “I’d let you.”
My body floods with heat. I realize he’s just being a flirt, but my pussy clenches regardless. I give myself one moment to imagine it. Stone on his hands and knees for me as he lets me fuck him. Just the mental image alone makes my pulse race.
