Hollywood Playboy

by Natasha Madison

  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.

  Me: 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.

  Roxanne: I arrive there tomorrow afternoon right before the event.

  I smile, looking down at the phone.

  Me: Let’s catch up.

  Roxanne: 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.

  She’s wearing a pink long-sleeved dress that’s so fucking tight I wonder how she is breathing. Okay, fine, it’s not that tight, but she should cover up. Around her hips is a plaid shirt tied in the front. It’s paired with white Converse shoes. She can go from glam, to classy, to sexy as fuck. Her hair is loose now, and she laughs. “I really need to stop tripping over you.”

  “Yeah.” It’s the only thing I say to her when I let her go. My fingers tingle as I walk away from her.

  I walk with my head down until I spot Cassie. “The bus is here,” she says. I just nod and walk ahead of her toward the bus. When I take a seat, she sits next to me. I put on my sunglasses and get my phone out, scrolling through the pictures from last night. I laugh when I see a couple of me and Jonathan arm in arm.

  We get off the bus, and I walk onto the plane, sitting down, and Cassie sits next to me. I never look up, not even when I hear her laughter that shoots through me, causing my leg to go up and down. I don’t move from my seat the whole way, and when the plane touches down, I walk out toward the bus. “What’s your problem?” Cassie asks, sitting next to me. “You haven’t said more than five words to anyone.”

  “Tired,” I say. Looking out the window, I see her smiling as she walks toward the bus. She’s walking next to Jonathan, laughing at something he said. His hand goes around her shoulders, and she just lets him. She doesn’t push him off or walk away from him. I shake my head. What the fuck is wrong with me, and why do I fucking care who she’s walking with? Stupid, I think to myself. I put my head back and close my eyes until we get to the next hotel. I walk in and see Yamina and Yolanda in the middle of the lobby handing out keys.

  “I have yours already set up,” Cassie says, handing me my key card. “I’m on the same floor this time.”

  “Yeah, what is the plan for tonight?” I ask her, walking toward the elevators.

  “Dinner if you want or I can cancel. We have the press set up for tomorrow all day, and then red carpet is on the same night, so it’s going to be a long day.”

  “Yeah, I think I’m going to order in and just rest up for tomorrow,” I tell her, and I do just that. I spend the night in my room, and the next day when the alarm wakes me at six, I shut it off and skip the gym. Instead, I do sit-ups in the room while I watch CNN and then Dateline. When did I start watching CNN and Dateline? The door to my suite opens at seven forty-five, and Cassie comes in with coffee.

  “Hey, I didn’t know you wouldn’t be in the gym this morning,” she says, putting it down on the table and then coming over to watch the last of the second Dateline episode I’m watching. “It’s going to be a crazy night,” she says. “The barricades are already up, and the fans have been chanting your name.” Picking up the remote, she turns the channel, and I see the red carpet is already out and some of the cameras are already set up. “So from ten until two, it’s interviews with the ten journalists. Then you get ready for the red carpet tonight. It’s at six, so we have to leave here at five thirty. Autumn is your red carpet date tonight.” I nod at her, going into my room and taking a shower. I grab my blue dress pants with a light blue shirt, matching it with my brown Hermes belt. I roll the sleeves up. Putting on my silver Rolex watch, I grab my phone and put it in my back pocket.

  “We are starting the interviews with Jessica this morning. You need me there?” she asks me, and I shake my head. We made a deal, and I’m going to stick with my end.

  We make it to the floor, and I walk out and see Yamina and Yolanda again. “Good morning.” They greet me with a huge smile. I bet once this shit is over, these two are going to get shitfaced for a week. I smile at them. “We are ready when you are. Jessica is already in room seven.”

  I walk toward the room and look over at Cassie. “Do me a favor. Give those two a week away in Mexico on me. Five-star treatment.” She just nods, taking her phone out and making notes.

  I get to the room and walk in, not sure what I’m expecting, but Jessica sits in her chair with a paper on her lap. “Morning,” I say. She looks up, and if I thought not seeing her in the gym this morning would not matter, I was wrong. She smiles at me, getting up to show me that she’s wearing a pantsuit, the pants ending a little bit after her knee. Her arms are bare, but I’m drawn to her sky-high heels that look like the straps are wrapped around her ankle five or six times. Her hair is tied in a ponytail again, but stray pieces are falling in the front.

  “Morning,” she says, and I sit in the chair in front of her. She looks up. “Perfect timing.”

  I just nod. Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me? “So I read that it took you seventeen tries to get just one little scene in the movie.” She goes straight into the interview with her game face on.

  “You have to be a bit more specific about that one,” I say, my tone unbothered. “There were lots of scenes that took more takes than I liked.”

  “The skydiving scene,” she says quickly, and then I nod. The fifteen minutes fly by, and I’m actually enjoying talking about the stunts I performed.

  Cassie sticks her head into the room. “Time.” I get up and so does Jessica.

 
“Have a great day,” she says. I look over at her, and she smiles, her head tilted to the side. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” I say, but I don’t go into details. Instead, I just walk out and continue my interviews. The afternoon flies by, and I don’t see any of it. By the time I get time to myself, I’m in the car on my way to the premiere, and Autumn is sitting next to me. “The temperature is cooler here,” I say to her, and she looks up from her phone, agreeing with me. We get there, and I step out of the car, waving and holding my hand out for Autumn. “Get ready for the madness,” I tell her, and she just nods and steps aside when I walk over to the fans, giving autographs and posing for pictures. After I finish, we walk toward the red carpet. I guide Autumn with my hand as she stands next to me smiling. I look at the hundreds of flashes that are going off, my name being yelled.

  “Hey there, handsome.” I hear from beside me and see that it’s Roxanne. I smile at her, my body not reacting the way it should. She is standing there in a tight ass cream-colored dress, showing off her perfect natural C tits. Her curves fill out the dress, her long black hair straight and hanging down. Her brown eyes light up while she walks to me and kisses me on the cheek, causing the press to go wild. We pose for pictures together, and I walk down the carpet with my hand in hers.

  When I spot Jessica, I almost do a double take. Her back is to me, but I would know that ass anywhere. She’s wearing tight fucking leather pants, and to that, my body finally fucking wakes up. Her hair hangs down her back in big curls. She turns now, and it’s a damn good thing I’m a good actor because my mouth is on the floor. She’s wearing a lace top, cut right down the middle and molded to her. Turning my head to the side, I let my walls come up and I’m not Tyler, the man who wants someone I can never have. I’m Tyler, the actor who is going to fuck the shit out of a woman who means absolutely nothing to me in a few hours.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jessica

  Looks like this reality star is going to jail. This is after she violated her parole for the fifth time.

  “I guess the star of the show got here,” I say to my camera guy, and he just nods his head. This one is named Jo with no e.

  I turn to the side, chatting with Kendall as I feel the heat from the freaking flashes and then I slowly turn around and see him in the middle of all that with Roxanne by his side. She smiles up at him, his smile the same, but his eyes on me. Something shifts, and I have no idea what it is. He was weird yesterday at the gym, and after the gym, he barely said a word to me the whole day. Actually, he didn’t say anything to anyone. This morning, I went for my usual jog, and he wasn’t there. I pretended it didn’t matter. I watched Dateline and made it seem like it was just another day, but it wasn’t. Everything was just off.

  Then the interview started off gruff, but when he started talking about his stunts, the walls came down, his smile was genuine, his laughter the same, but then it was gone. One day, he acts like he’s my best friend, sharing a laugh over our own private joke, and the next, he’s ignoring me. I take out my phone and pulled up my actual best friend, Kellie.

  I text her, not knowing where she is. She isn’t just my best friend; she’s one of the biggest and hottest country music stars, and she is on tour, so I have zero idea what time zone she’s even in.

  Me: I need a girl FaceTime chat.

  Kellie: ME TOOO

  She answers right away.

  Me: Where are you?

  Kellie: Canada, you?

  Me: Tokyo.

  Kellie: Okay, let me get up and I’ll figure up the time zone issues and when I’m free.

  Me: Deal.

  I watch everyone walk into the theater, and once again, the takedown is amazing to see. I walk back into the theater and wait with everyone else. We haven’t seen the movie, and we aren’t going to until Paris, which is the “real” premiere, according to Yamina.

  We make our way back to the hotel, this time just the journalists. It’s been a crazy long day, so we all head to our rooms. I get into my room and look at the menu for room service. Tossing it on the bed, I grab my purse and decide to go eat in the dining room. I press the elevator button and get in, taking my phone out and checking my emails. I walk out of the elevator again with my head down, and my shoulder collides with someone, almost spinning me around. I look up to apologize, and my eyes land on blue ones. Tyler is standing there beside the elevators except he isn’t by himself. My eyes go down to his hands and see they are holding Roxanne’s. I blink away the hurt and confusion, looking up, and making him see me. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I seem to be running into you a lot.”

  I turn and walk away, not waiting for a response or even an acknowledgement, and not turning my head to look back, not wondering if he’s staring or if he’s going upstairs to have hours and hours of sex with his co-star. I. Don’t. Actually. Care. Shit, maybe I do, though.

  I walk up to the bar, my knees shaking, and pull out a barstool and sit down, ordering a glass of white wine. I sit down and try to pretend nothing is bothering me, but after two sips, the wine tastes like acid. I pay my bill and walk back to the elevator. This time, my eyes stay up, so I don’t walk into anyone again. I make it to my room, close the door, and then throw my phone on the bed, but not before setting my alarm. I peel my pants off, then my shirt, and take a quick shower to wash the makeup from my face. I slide into bed and toss my phone on the bedside table. I toss and turn until my alarm tells me it’s time to get my ass out of bed. I toss my arm out, grabbing it, and seeing that Kellie texted me. I see she sent it two hours ago.

  Kellie: Text you in four hours.

  I reply right away

  Me: Talk to you in two.

  I toss the blankets off me and get ready to go to the gym. At least today, I know he’s not going to be there because he’ll probably be recovering from a wild night of sex. My stomach flips over as I pull my pants up and grab the matching sports bra. I tie my hair up, making my way to the gym. I open the door and stop in my tracks because on the treadmill running is a shirtless Tyler. I scoff at him. Of course, he can have sex all night and then come and run for fun. What does he have, the stamina of a jack rabbit? I go to the treadmill right next to him because it’s the only other one.

  “Morning,” he says, ridiculously chipper, and I don’t even acknowledge him. Instead, I plug my earbuds in. “What, you’re not talking to me?” he asks when I have one pod in my ear and I start walking fast. I just look ahead, and he laughs, which irritates me even more. “What did I do?” he asks, and I try to keep my cool. I try really hard. Okay, fine, maybe not that hard. Gahhh, I fail so damn hard. I shut off the treadmill and turn and look at him.

  “What is this?” I ask him, and he stops his own machine, his chest rising and falling, sweat rolling down his tanned chest. He grabs a small white towel and wipes his forehead, then grabs the water bottle. “This has to be a game. Are you playing a game, and one I don’t know the rules to? Because if you are, so help me, I’ll—” I tell him, getting off my treadmill and looking at him as he interrupts my rant.

  “Why can’t we be friends?” he asks after he takes a drink of his water, and he just looks at me. Mr. Calm, Cool, and Fucking Collected.

  “Are you kidding right now?” I ask and turn around in a circle. “Am I being punked?” Then I look at him, and he just watches me with his hands on his hips. “Two days ago, you almost kissed me.”

  “No, I didn’t,” he points out, his hands going from him to me. “We almost kissed each other.”

  “Are you high?” I ask him. “Or are you drunk? Maybe both?”

  “Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “Straight as an arrow.”

  “Okay,” I say, and now I start pacing. “One day you hate me.”

  “Yeah. I remember that day,” he says, smiling and then takes a sip of water.

  “Then we call a truce?” I look at him, glaring.

  “Yeah, I remember that also,” he says, now getting off the treadmill and stan
ding in front of me.

  “Then you go back to being an asshole.” I put up my hand to stop him from answering. “I most certainly remember that,” I tell him and continue, “then we become friends—shockingly, you are actually a nice guy—but then you try to kiss me.” I glare at him while pointing at his chest. “Don’t even,” I warn him, and he just nods. “Then you ignore me. Like, not a fucking word. Not even a grunt.”

  “I was tired,” he says with a shrug. “I was having a bad day.”

  “And . . .” Throwing up my hands in the air, I say, “So what, you were having a bad day? I’m having a bad day right now, so I am ignoring you.”

  “No, you’re yelling, but everyone handles their bad day differently. Case in point.”

  “Fuck off, Tyler. Honestly, I can’t do this hot and cold bullshit,” I tell him. “I’m not one of your girls who jumps anytime you give me attention.”

  “You’re jealous,” he says, and I cross my arms over my chest.

  “For me to be jealous, I would have to care, and I don’t,” I tell him, hoping I’m as good an actor as I see myself in my head. I have to remember he’s an actor. Will he know I’m bullshitting my way through this moment? “I couldn't care less that you did Roxanne last night. I couldn't care less if she’s still in your bed, waiting for your return, probably being watched over by Cassie.”