The Professor's Pet_The Office Hours Series

by Riley Love

  “You better be right,” I said, taking off toward him.

  When I was a few feet away, she called my name. I turned to find her eyes twinkling with wicked delight. “I could have dared you to fuck him instead. You should be thanking me.”

  “I’ll thank you when this is over with,” I said, turning on my heel and stalking away.

  I had a man to kiss.

  Coming soon!

  Untitled

  Snowed In With the Stuntmen

  One snowstorm. Four stuntmen to keep me warm.

  I’ve landed the role of a lifetime, starring in a major feature film.

  But—there’s always one of those, isn’t there?

  My ex is starring opposite me, and he’s making sure I know he’s moved on.

  Paparazzi are everywhere, trying to get the story of why we called it quits.

  I want to get out of here, but with a huge snowstorm coming in, no one’s leaving this secluded resort.

  My four sexy costars are supposed to play the villains, but this weekend, they’ll show me I’m the star of the show.

  Chapter Three

  “Get me out of the contract!” I roared. The paparazzi and the gossip hounds that security could never seem to clear away from my hotel room door would have plenty to write about tonight. Good. Maybe a little public relations nightmare would make my agent and production take me seriously. I wasn’t usually this much of a diva, but this movie was going downhill in a hurry. I couldn’t work with my ex another minute.

  “Albany, I know it seems bad right now.” Rose, my agent, exhaled loudly. She’d really tried to quit her pack-a-day habit, but my drama had her chain smoking again. I’d feel guilty about it later. “But it’s only a month. You don’t have to see Kyle every day. You can do this. Pledge of Allegiance has an amazing script. I’ve already heard some whispers about awards.”

  I didn’t know how she could hear anything over my desperate pleas. So yelling wasn’t working—that was clear. Time to turn on the charm. I was an actress, apparently a pretty good one, if Rose was to be believed. But stroking my ego was part of her job.

  “No, it’s not a lot of time. But I’m concerned about the script. It’s supposed to be this love-conquers-all type of thing, but the director keeps saying she doesn’t believe the connection between me and Kyle.” My ex. My costar. We’d been America’s favorite couple, until he started pursuing other interests. Like his personal makeup artist. In order for the script to work, we had to make the viewers believe we were still in love. It would be the most challenging role of our careers.

  “You’re an actress. Make it happen.” Maybe stroking my ego wasn’t always a part of Rose’s job. “Think of it as payback. Make his cock so hard when he’s filming that he squirms in front of the crew. He won’t be able to think of anything but you. Be the bigger person, Albany. The one who moves on.”

  Giving my ex blue balls didn’t exactly seem like moving on, but it did sound satisfying.

  “I’m trying, but you keep telling me I have to finish this movie.” A half-dozen actresses struggling to maintain cred on the B-list would walk over me with their stilettos to get this role. How did I know that? They’d already tried. “And I’m not sure how we’re going to do that. There’s a big storm coming. We probably won’t be able to film for the rest of the week. The locals are talking about an avalanche warning.”

  Snow was a necessary evil for Pledge of Allegiance. I was playing the First Lady, and I got abducted by a gang of French thugs to settle the score in some international shenanigans—I wasn’t much for politics—and held hostage in a villa in the Alps. Kyle, my ex in real life and my pretend husband and fake president in the movie, had to decide if his love for me was stronger than his loyalty to the country. Luckily, we weren’t actually filming in the Alps—it was a sexy thriller and we were going more for atmosphere than accuracy—and for the next month, the cast and crew had taken over a small Vermont ski resort.

  It was beautiful here but boring as hell. The resort was outside of a tiny town, and we were surrounded by nothing but trees and snow. We’d just started filming, and my rage for Kyle was too close to the surface of my skin for my own good. I hadn’t been myself, on or off camera. The word diva had been batted around, mostly whispered loudly behind my back. I’d been invited to dinner with the other actors, but I usually declined. There was no telling if Kyle was invited too. I spent most nights alone in my hotel room with a bottle of wine and my script, dreaming of ways I could stick it to Kyle’s character and get my revenge on screen.

  “Albany, I’m begging you. Hang in there. It will be worth it.” Rose coughed. I really did feel bad about making her smoke again. “Kyle will show his true colors. He always does. It’s your turn to shine.”

  I paid her to say things like that too. But I wanted this to be my breakout role, more than anything. Dating Kyle had given me a taste of fame at that level. It wasn’t the people kissing my ass or the screaming fans I was after. I wanted the complete creative control that came with that perceived magic touch. People listened to Kyle because they thought all it took was attaching his name to something to make it a blockbuster. I’d been lucky, as a consistently working actress, but I was restless. I had so many ideas, and I wanted to bring my characters to life instead of someone else’s.

  As soon as I hung up, an email pinged through to my phone. Due to expected inclement weather conditions, production will be down until Monday in the interest of the safety of the cast and crew.

  It was Wednesday night. Snowpocalypse was slated to start early in the morning and tear our ski resort a new asshole until Friday. Had we been given advance warning, I would’ve gotten the hell out of Dodge. But movies were last-minute operations, and it was too late to escape.

  There had to be something to do here. I’d be damned if I drank myself stupid in this hotel room for four straight days. In a wine-dazed fog, I’d find myself banging on Kyle’s door and doing something I regretted. Rose was right, a month wasn’t a long time—unless I made a fool out of myself. Then it was an eternity.

  My only scene for the day filmed that morning. Some of the other cast and most of the crew were still on set, and I had the resort mostly to myself. Perfect time to venture out and grab a bite to eat without too many people around. Those paparazzi I was worried about would follow Kyle before they followed me. And I’d snapped at them, more than once. Had to earn my diva cred. But in case I was wrong, I pulled my hair back into a tight ponytail and wrapped a scarf around my neck. Sunglasses indoors would be totally ridiculous and a dead giveaway.

  Sad thing was, some of those reporters had no idea who they were supposed to be following. I was another in a long line of Kyle Edwards’s exes. We all looked similar, like we’d rolled off an assembly line. He had a type. Long, dark hair, upturned nose, and big boobs. He liked them fake, but I came by mine honestly. I was a little heavier than the rest of his exes, according to the gossip sites, and that was how I’d stand out in a lineup.

  I had a type too. I called it not a cheating asshole.

  Getting out of my room was the best thing I could do. I needed to get my mind off Kyle, my role, and Pledge of Allegiance, even if only for as long as it took to eat my salad. The restaurant had just opened, but laughter already rang out from the bar. When I dined alone, that was where I preferred to sit. Under normal circumstances, pre-Kyle and Pledge of Allegiance, it was easier to blend in and not call attention to myself that way.

  “Look at who it is! The star of the show!” A man’s booming voice ensured every eye in the room was on me. So much for plan A.

  I couldn’t be too annoyed because the voice belonged to one of my favorite guys on the cast. Ethan, one of the stunt guys who was responsible for stealing me from my fake husband. He took my breath away every time I looked at him. Dark, shaggy hair, olive skin, and the most surprising blue eyes.

  We hadn’t shot the actual abduction scene yet—movies weren’t filmed in chronological order; instead scen
es were shot by when production could get the location—but we had done some of the scenes where I was being held prisoner in the French villa. Just me and four stuntmen hot enough to melt the snow, hellbent on revenge and the destruction of America.

  At the risk of sounding like a traitor, I didn’t care if the rescue party ever found me. I’d be completely content living out the rest of my fictional days with my muscle-bound captors.

  “Hi, guys.” I took a seat at the bar near their table. “Ready for the storm?”

  “Got almost everything we need,” Drew, who looked to be the youngest of the group, said. He’d mentioned he was fresh out of the military, but I wasn’t sure what branch.

  I wouldn’t mind being snowed in with him serving and protecting me. Hopefully, he assumed the flush that rose on my cheeks was a byproduct of the fireplace in the tavern.

  “They’ll take care of us here.” That was the magical part of being part of a movie—everything was taken care of. Food, travel, lodging, and someone willing to cater to my every whim.

  The stunt guys exchanged a knowing smile, like they shared an inside joke I didn’t understand. Whatever. I’d crashed their party. I turned back to the bar and picked up a menu. I hadn’t decided yet if I’d stay and have a glass of wine or order something to go. Kyle was shooting the late shift at our fake White House, which meant he and Tiffany, the personal makeup artist who serviced him in more ways than one, would be gone for hours.

  We had a month left of shooting, and if I started acting like a hermit now, it would be the longest month of my life. Kyle Edwards might be the star of this show, but he couldn’t dull my shine unless I let him. I flagged down the bartender and ordered a glass of sauvignon blanc.

  “Albany, are you having dinner by yourself?” Garrett, a California-issue blond and tan surfer, tugged on the back of my jacket.

  I turned around to find his big, green eyes pleading for…something from me. The muscles low in my belly clenched, and for a moment, I pictured him naked and on his knees before me. What is hot in here, or… Where the heck was that wine?

  “My date got caught in the storm.” I shrugged, barely suppressing a grin before I turned back to my waiting wine glass. Everyone on this movie was aware of the tension between Kyle and me, on and off the set. It would be sweet if this mythical date was a real person who showed up in time for the storm.

  “You’re not eating alone.” Ethan’s words were tipped with a growl. It was the sexiest thing ever. He might have actually been French—there was a hint of an accent that I couldn’t quite place. Yeah, I had a crush on my costars. All four of them. They’d starred in quite a few of my fantasies.

  Was it still considered Stockholm Syndrome if it was only make believe?

  “Join us, Albany.” Drew waggled his eyebrows. “Let those bloggers tell the world that you had four over-muscled knuckleheads who kept you warm during the storm.”

  These panties were done for the moment I got back to my room.

  Harvey, who I swore only spoke when someone paid him to do so, scooted his chair over to make room for me. His grin was slow, but it warmed my skin better than the fire because I knew it was real. He could’ve been ex-military too, with cropped dark hair, light brown skin, and green eyes like sea glass. If the bloggers did post an account of this night, Drew’s description wasn’t even close to what they’d write. These were four of the best-looking men I’d ever laid eyes on.

  “I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” I said, interrupted when the waitress brought the guys’ dinners. I didn’t know what I wanted, so I just went with my usual. “I’ll get the Caesar salad.”

  The set tailor grumbled every time we had a fitting—something about my measurements never staying consistent. I tried not to take it personally, but anything that wasn’t of the leafy green variety tended to go straight to my ass. Rose had negotiated the nude scene out of the script before I signed on the dotted line. A body double would handle that. But my breakup with Kyle had put me in the spotlight. Getting caught eating my feelings wouldn’t help matters.

  “That’s all?” Ethan wrinkled his nose. “Fuck no. Bring her a steak. You eat steak, right?”

  The part of me that cared about what was written on those blogs about my weight begged me to refuse the order. But the rest of me was fucking hungry. I grinned at the waitress. “Medium rare please.”

  A cheer rose from my dinner mates, and they raised their beers to clink my wine glass. I missed this, the camaraderie of being part of the movie, instead of it operating despite me. As the leading lady, people got nervous around me, but nothing had changed but the amount of screen time I’d been given. It was lonely, sitting in a room full of people afraid to talk to me. But I doubted these guys feared anything.

  “Did you shoot today?” Garrett asked. “I didn’t see you on set.”

  “Yeah. I had the first scene.” It was one of my opening scenes in the movie, where I met with my fictional staff about the party that I got abducted from. And my character was a total bitch. I hated that. “How about you guys?”

  “We did. Just got back. Too bad you missed it. We roughed up Kyle, trying to get ransom money out of him for your safe return.”

  Ugh. “I’m the one who should get paid to go back to him.”

  Ethan leaned forward. “I don’t care what the script says, we’re keeping you.”

  I took a long sip of wine to wash away the desire that lingered between us like smoke. Because where there was smoke, there was fire. “I might like that.”

  Shit. I really said that out loud. One glass of wine was all it took to disintegrate my filter. Thankfully, the waitress came back with my salad. And I might have ordered another glass of wine. Because maybe I didn’t regret what I’d said. And I liked living in the fantasy world where these men got to keep me.

  “How are you spending your snow days, Albany?” Garret asked.

  “Going over the script.” I’d screwed up some of my lines lately in my scenes with Kyle. I swore I heard snickers every time. But the harder I tried to get everything perfect, the harder I fucked things up. Kyle never did. It was irritating as hell.

  “We’re rehearsing after dinner. The plan was the work on the scene where we take you away from President Dickhead.” Laughter erupted at the table as Drew announced the plan. Some of the cast and crew had shared a discreet eye roll with me or commented under their breath about Kyle, but I didn’t realize the opinion was so widespread. “Want to join us? Gotta warn you though, we’ll be outside in the snow.”

  “We’ll make sure you stay warm,” Garrett added.

  The smart thing to do would be to go back to my room and learn my damn lines for my next scene with Kyle. But the abduction scene was one of the most important in the story. I’d beg for mercy, and the assailants would refuse to grant me even a drop. I’d struggle and cry and give it everything I had. This scene would sell the movie. The director suggested bringing in a stunt double for me, but I refused. I wanted the raw terror to go through me so I could funnel that emotion into the rest of my performance. It would be stupid not to go with them.

  “I’m in.”

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  Untitled

  All Access to the Boy Band

  I fantasized about them, but I never dreamed they’d worship me.

  For years I’ve written sexy fanfiction about Jupiter in Blue, a pop band that was huge when I was a teenager. Now they’ve invited me to the Caribbean where they’re recording their comeback album. All access. All expenses paid. But there’s a catch: they want my fiction to become our reality.

  Excerpt

  “It’s LinaLu!”

  I didn’t know what was more shocking—standing in the same room as the men I’d fantasized about for the last fifteen years or that they called me by my fanfic screen name.

  Like the whole thing was real.

  “And she’s beautiful.” Todd, the singer, circled me, drinking me in with his gaze. He wore
his blond hair long in the front, so at some angles it would cover his face, but it never hid what he was feeling. It was almost shaved in the back. It was hot as hell back in the day and even more so now that he was standing so close I could reach out and touch him.

  I hoped he couldn’t see me shaking, and that he’d chalk up the beads of perspiration to the fact that I was still dressed for Cleveland and not the Caribbean.

  “Don’t cry, LinaLu.” Blake, the guitarist, took my hand in his, brought it to his lips, and pressed a kiss against it. Those silver eyes. Some people thought he wore contacts, but now I knew the color was real. His shaggy dark hair fell against his tan skin, like he was born for island life.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, my voice rough. Being this close to them wasn’t the only reason I was fighting emotion right now. I’d been so deep in the trenches with my mom and her illness that stepping away from that life felt alien. Sinfully indulgent. If I could run out of here, I would. But I was on an island, in another universe, so far away from my comfort zone, and there was nowhere to go.

  “It’s because she’s never been up close and personal with you ugly bastards.” Zach had tamed his signature swoopy hair over the years, but he hadn’t traded in his hoodie, not even in the hot Caribbean sun. He came over and wrapped me in a hug, snapping the tension that had formed when the other two approached.

  In that moment, I forgot to be sad. And in that moment, I realized how long I’d been sad. Too long.

  His lips were against my ear as he rocked me back and forth. “I’m sorry to say they never get better looking.”

  I laughed. “I think I can live with it.”

  “Oh no, you can’t claim her before I’ve even had a chance with her.” There was no mistaking Hunter was the drummer when he stole me away from Zach. His T-shirt strained against his rock-hard muscles, and damn if he didn’t give me the best hug I’d ever had. He smelled amazing, like he’d blossomed in the sun. He rubbed his hand over my back like he knew I could cry again at any moment. He was beautiful, with his high cheekbones and dark skin. “We’re really glad you came, LinaLu.”