“I’m going to teach you,” he whispers into my ear. His face is right beside mine as he puts the chopsticks in my right hand and the spoon in my left. His big hands cover mine. “Now what you do is you pick up a couple of noodles.” He takes about ten with the chopsticks. “And then you put your spoon under the tips of the chopsticks.” He’s talking, and I’m looking at the bowl in front of me, but I can’t focus on anything but his arms around me and the way he fits behind me. “Then you twirl,” he continues, and I feel him look at me from the side. My eyes find his, and his crystal blue eyes are a touch darker. “You smell like strawberries,” he says. His face inches a touch closer, and now I know for sure I’m holding my breath.
“Are you guys almost done?” Cassie says, and I drop my hands from his, my spoon clattering in the bowl. He stands. “We are almost done, so I’m going to call the shuttle driver.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Tyler says as if he wasn’t just behind me. As if I wasn’t a touch closer to kissing him. What the fuck is wrong with me? “We should be finished in about ten,” he says as he sits back down and picks up his spoon to continue eating. “Eat,” he says. It’s the only thing he says, and I don’t bother talking because I don’t trust myself. I’m not even hungry anymore. I eat a bit more and then get up when Autumn says the shuttle is here. I get up at the same time as Tyler; he grabs his jacket in one hand and holds out the other to gesture for me to walk out ahead of him. I get on the bus and sit in one of the seats, and Tyler sits next to me.
I don’t say a word the whole way back as the others chat around me. We get back to the hotel, and I make my way to my room. Wishing everyone a good night when I step out of the elevator as the rest of them go to their own floor, I slide my card in the slot, then collapse on the back of the door, finally letting out the breath I feel like I was holding this whole time. “What the fuck just happened?” I ask the question even though it will go unanswered.
Chapter Eleven
Tyler
This hot actor is headed back to rehab. His ex-wife staged an intervention when he spent three days on a bender . . . by himself. Sources say it was his cry for help.
I’ve been on this treadmill for the past thirty minutes, and no matter how fast I keep pushing myself, it’s not cutting it. I look at the clock on the wall in front of me and see that it’s almost six fifteen. Usually, Jessica is here by six seventeen. I mean, not that I was keeping track, but it’s something I noticed. Last night when I had her hands in mine, and I looked at her, I could almost taste her. I knew if I moved just a touch more, nothing would stop me, but then I heard Cassie’s voice, and my walls went back up. I’ve never been seen kissing in public; that shit is for teenagers. That doesn’t happen to me. I play hard and fuck harder, but I do it in private. You will never see me gracing the fucking tabloids with my dick out. Fuck that shit.
I push myself harder on my run, just remembering last night and the fucking slip. I shake my head because I can’t let it happen again. As I repeat and repeat it over and over again, I hear the door open, and I know it’s her. My body goes on full alert, and I force myself to focus on the building in front of us out the window, but then I see her hands turning on the television, and my head turns to the side. Wrong fucking idea. She walks briskly in her light gray tight fucking pants that mold every fucking curve she has. A tight white shirt that is wide around the sides shows the sports bra underneath of her toned stomach. She puts it on CNN for ten minutes and then plugs her earbuds in and switches to Dateline. She’s nothing if not a creature of habit.
I turn my head forward, not saying anything. I start making a mental note in my head about her; what is it that gets me so worked up over her? Maybe I’m still feeling this way because I felt bad for being an asshole and having her watch that presentation without her name there . . . in front of her peers. Maybe that is why I look forward into the glass, and I see her reflection in the mirror and start breaking her down. Fine, she has great hair; fucking hair I could fist, yanking her head back so I could look at her. Her eyes are mesmerizing. Sometimes they are green like an emerald, or if she’s in the sun, they turn the color of a shamrock. Her smile, when she is really laughing, is amazing, and her whole face lights up. But then when she smirks at me, I want to rip it off her face. Her mouth also; the sass that comes out of it makes me want to pull my hair out of my head.
I toss around whether I hate or tolerate her the whole time I push myself to go faster and faster. I make the mistake of looking over and see her tits bouncing again. Those would have to go on my pro list. Those tits are perfect; they have to be real, or maybe they are fake. Regardless, per-fucking-fection. Also, her ass. Fuck, she’s got the best ass I’ve ever seen—tight, plump, and perfect. I turn the speed back down, slowing the treadmill to a stop. Grabbing the water bottle, I head to the door while she continues to run. I turn to get the last glimpse of her and see that perfect fucking ass, her shirt full of criss-crosses in the back, and her hair swinging from side to side. I groan inwardly and make my way to my suite. I groan even more when I see that Cassie is standing post in my suite. “Not now,” I tell her. “Just leave instructions on the table and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
She nods her head, and I walk into the bedroom, shutting the door, and then pull my shirt off. Tossing it on my bed, I walk to the shower, turning it on and peeling the shorts from my body, my hard-on, almost like stone. I stand under the water, my hands on the wall as my neck hangs down and the water runs down my neck toward my back. Maybe I just need to fuck, and then I’ll be okay. I fist my cock, now my head going back, squeezing the base, my eyes closing, and the only thing coming in to my head are images of Jessica. Her eyes, her lips, her stomach, the way her tits bounce when she runs. I picture her in here with me as I pretend it’s her hand that goes up and down my cock. I come with her name on my lips. I open my eyes and wait for my breathing to return to normal. I get out and grab a towel, wrapping it around my waist and another one to dry my hair off. I walk out of the bathroom and open the door, seeing that I’m by myself. A note is left on the table.
Everything is packed. Just pack your workout shit.
I grab my phone and walk to the window, pulling up Roxanne’s name.
You going to be in Tokyo with us?
Roxanne is one of my co-stars. We filmed maybe ten scenes together, but the good thing is that we had steam to let off, and we just fucked. It just happened, and the next day, she took her stuff and blew me a kiss over her shoulder. There was no drama, and there were no names in the paper.
I arrive there tomorrow afternoon right before the event.
I smile, looking down at the phone.
Let’s catch up.
Yes, let’s catch up.
I smile to myself, ignoring the voice in the back of my mind. I get dressed in my black jeans, torn at the knees. I grab a white T-shirt that molds to my chest and grab my beige hooded sweater, tossing it over. I run my hands through my hair and brush my teeth. I put on my black boots, then toss on a black jacket, rolling to cuffs. I throw my clothes in my small backpack. Making my way downstairs, I walk out of the elevator and crash into someone. My hands go out to grab her arms, and I know right away it’s Jessica.