“And I think it’s going to be good for your career, regardless of whether it’s a blockbuster or not,” Miranda continues. “Remember, you’re just starting out and your acting talent is almost nonexistent. We’re operating on your looks, your popularity as a football player, and . . .” her words trail off, but I know she was about to say.
That fucking video.
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Miranda,” I say dryly.
“I’m just doing what you pay me to do, tell you like it is,” Miranda says. “But I need you to start being on your game after today, Gavin. There’s a lot on the line.”
I hang up my cell, frustrated, toying with my cognac glass. Miranda’s right. I need to do something, anything, to get my thoughts back on track. I can’t go on like this for another week. I have scenes to shoot, even if I do think this movie fucking sucks.
My eyes stray to the dark brandy in the glass.
Drinking certainly isn’t going to help.
I get up from my seat, walking over to the mini-bar. There’s nothing inside. Not even a bottle of water. I frown. I don’t even remember drinking anything last night. I try calling the front desk, but after ten rings, nobody picks up. “What sort of nickel and dime operation is this?” I grumble, irritated. I’ve always been used to the very best service, and so far, this hotel is failing to match up to what I’m used to.
Screw it. I’ll just go to the fucking vending machine.
I grab my room key and head out the door. As I’m making my way down the hallway, I pass a maid wagon outside Leslie’s suite. And I run into something. Hard.
There she is.
The towels fall from Bunny’s fingers at my feet, her luminous eyes going wide with shock. Her hair’s a little messed up and she’s obviously been working hard. But fuck, she looks beautiful.
I bend down to pick up her towels before she can react and offer them to her. “So we meet again,” I say, cracking a grin.
Bunny gazes at me for a moment, still looking like a wide-eyed doe lost in the woods, a slight blush flushing her cheeks. “I-I-I’m sorry,” she stutters, her full, plump lips quivering. Lips that I can’t wait to taste.
She reaches out and takes the towels from my hands, causing little sparks to shoot up my arm where our flesh touches.
Fuck.
Blood rushes down below, and my cock twitches inside my jeans as I hold in a groan. “No need to be sorry,” I say, holding my voice steady. “It was my fault.”
She doesn’t reply right away, her eyes dropping to the floor. In the silence that follows, I swear I can hear her heartbeat.
I clear my throat. “Listen, about yesterday . . .”
“I’m sorry about that too,” she says, bringing her eyes back to my face. “If I’d known you were in there, I wouldn’t have . . .” her voice trails off and her cheeks flush even more. I imagine she’s thinking about seeing my cock right now. And it only further turns me on.
“That was my fault too,” I reassure her. It’s getting hard to keep the strain out of my voice. “I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that without calling out first.”
“Thank you,” she says quietly, seeming totally relieved.
I arch an eyebrow. “For . . .?”
“For not reporting me to my boss. He would’ve” —she swallows— “fired me.”
I wave away her worry, though I don’t doubt her statement. The hotel manager did seem like an ass from the little conversation we’ve had. “There’s nothing to report. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Thank goodness,” she mutters to herself. “Because I frickin’ need this job.”
The thought of needing a job as horrid as this one is a scary thought. The fact that she feels she has to work at a place like this fills me with concern. Although it shouldn’t. My only concern should be bending her to my will.
I look at the chest of her uniform. No name tag. She probably didn’t wear it in case she ran into me again. “What’s your name?” I ask her.
“Bri-Brianna,” she replies shyly.
I extend my hand. I love her name. And what a coincidence. It starts with a B—like Bunny. “Nice to meet you, Brianna. Mine’s Gavin.”
She looks at my hand like she’s scared of it before taking it. I marvel at how soft and supple her skin is as I shake hers and then let go. I regret letting go instantly, lust burning through my body like an inferno.
She’s blushing furiously as I take a step closer and a pleasant woodsy scent fills my nostrils.
“Well listen, Brianna,” I growl in a slightly menacing but playful tone. “You actually did do something wrong yesterday.”
I almost grin at her reaction, her lips suddenly quivering and her hand flying to her chest. “What? You said I didn’t—”
I move in closer, backing her up against the wall and placing both of my hands to either side of her head. “You ran from me,” I tell her, my voice dropping low. This close up, she looks so vulnerable. So innocent. Blood pumps furiously down below. She’s making my cock so hard it fucking hurts. “And no one runs from me.”
Her breathing is coming out in short, ragged pants, her soft body nearly pressed up against mine. She obviously wants me, and I want her too. Her lips beg me to kiss her.
We’re so close, I can almost feel the heat emanating from her core.
Brianna stares at me, not sure what to think, her mouth opening and then closing. “I—” she begins, before she’s interrupted by a crackle at her waist.
“Hey, Brianna?” says a man’s voice.
Brianna tears her
