Page 50 of Mischief Mayhem

Fuuuccckkk . . .

I had never experienced anything so amazing, so fulfilling, so absolutely heavenly.

In the aftermath, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even see straight, the weight of everything crushing my brain into sludge.

“Hollywood,” she murmured, running the backs of her fingers down the side of my face. “Are you okay?”

I hummed and nodded, not trusting my voice. If I tried to talk, I’d tell her how much I cared for her and how much I never wanted to do this with anyone else again. I’d ask her to let me move in so we could play like this every night. I’d sell my fucking soul to keep her.

Once upon a time, the thought would have terrified me. At the first hint of commitment, I would have gone screaming for the hills. Old Hollywood didn’t keep partners. He didn’t have time for girlfriends or boyfriends or their jealous attitudes. Seven billion people on the planet, and that version of me wanted to fuck at least half of them.

But now . . . now, I just wanted this one girl.

I sucked in a breath when she ran her fingers over a particularly sensitive area on my stomach.

“I got you good here.” She leaned down to kiss into the marred skin. “Let me go get some antiseptic.”

“No,” I tried to say. “No need. It’s fine.”

“Stop that.” Cool air hit my cock as she stood, and I brought my hands down to it for the first time since she’d tied me up. My fingers tingled and my legs quivered like jelly, and if I tried to get to my feet, I’d fall flat on my face. I couldn’t move, and never in my life had I been so absolutely okay with that.

When V came back, she straddled me again and rubbed cream into the scratches she’d left on my stomach. Once satisfied, she untied my hands and massaged the area that had been restrained, digging her thumbs into my palms before kissing each knuckle tenderly.

“You’re too good to me,” I muttered, surprised when I could actually form coherent syllables.

“No, Hollywood,” she said. “We’re good to each other.”

18

VERONA

Days turned into a week, and a week turned into three. Hollywood spent most nights in my bed and most mornings between my legs. There was nothing like getting him off before he left for work, and if I could go about my day with the feel of his mouth still on mine, I considered myself one lucky bitch. But I still held a piece of my heart back, a piece that wasn’t ready to let him all the way in. I could really care for Hollywood if I let myself. I could see myself falling in love with him and having a future, and even though he swore not to see anyone else while we were doing whatever this was, I wasn’t sure he felt the same.

If I let him closer, if I let him in fully, he would have the power to ruin me, and I swore to myself that I would never let that happen. This life was dangerous. He was in a motorcycle club, and like Selene had pointed out, he’d been shot three times already. If he didn’t leave me out of boredom, he’d find an early grave. I wasn’t sure which would hurt worse.

When I woke up the morning that Pollux was released from the hospital, Hollywood wasn’t in bed next to me. He’d had to go check in on Leo before heading to the garage. This did not stop him from being the first person on my mind. I sent him a good morning text as soon as I rolled out of bed, fighting the big smile on my face when he replied.

Hollywood: Good morning, beautiful.

A rush of deep abiding affection went through me at the compliment, and I told myself I had no business feeling that way. Loads of men had called me beautiful in my lifetime, but I became a pile of blushing hormones when he said it.

Ugh.

I ignored the flutter in my stomach and the skip in my heart as I showered and dressed for Pollux’s release day, telling myself it was just stupid hormones. Nothing personal. Nothing emotional.

When I went out to the kitchen, I found Wheels and Castor sitting at the kitchen table. Wheels looked hungover, judging by the glassy eyes and growly disposition. My brother, on the other hand, had my laptop open in front of him while he sucked back his coffee.

“Morning,” I said, leaning down to give my brother a kiss on the cheek before doing the same to Wheels. “How are you two?”

Castor lifted his head and narrowed his eyes. “What’s got your tits in a tizzy?”

Wheels stammered out a laugh. “Someone got laid last night.”

I gasped, pretending to be offended. “Wheels! How dare you? Roommates are supposed to keep secrets for each other.”

“I saw Hollywood sneaking out two hours ago,” Castor added, raising an eyebrow but not bothering to look at me. “You tell Bear about that yet?”

“It’s not any of his business. Nor is it yours. It’s not . . .” I cleared my throat and added cream to my mug, wishing my cheeks didn’t burn as hard as they did. “It’s not anything. Don’t read too much into it.”