Page 18 of Breaking Hollywood

“You’ve so watched them all. I bet you have them all on DVD and watch them every day. Especially Bonjour. I bet you know that one scene by heart—when I’m buck naked and fucking Annette Channing on the Pont de l’Archevêché.”

“I do not!”

Her cheeks are as red as the blood currently pumping through my veins and down to my cock. And I know she’s watched that scene multiple times. Probably gotten off to it.

I lean forward. “You want to know something about that scene?” I leave the words teasing, tantalizing.

And, like a fly to my web, she leans in closer, moving forward in her seat. I don’t even think she’s aware she’s doing it.

Her eyes are focused fully on me.

As mine are on her.

The scent of her perfume fills my nostrils. She smells like summertime and apples. And I want to take a big bite out of her.

“You know how the press reported that it was real? That I really screwed Annette in that scene?”

She moves even closer, ass on the edge of her seat, hanging on my every word.

“I didn’t,” I whisper. Then, I grin big.

Gabe

Speedy’s eyes narrow. “Jerk.”

“Perv.”

“I am not a perv!”

“You so are.” I laugh, sitting back. “You were practically salivating at the thought of knowing that it was real. Just admit it. There’s no shame in being a pervert, Speedy.”

“I am not a pervert!” she snaps, righteously crossing her arms over her chest.

And, of course, my eyes go to her tits again. I can see her cleavage pushing up through the top of her shirt, practically bursting to get out.

I bet she has great tits. They look amazing under her clothes. I can only imagine they are fan-fucking-tastic in all their naked glory.

“Unlike you,” she growls. “Hey, pervert! My eyes are up here.”

Busted.

But I take my sweet time in raising my eyes. And, when I meet hers, I give her a cocky smile.

“I know exactly where your eyes are, Speedy. You just have great tits. It’s hard not to look at them, especially when you insist on drawing my attention to them.” I point at her cleavage.

She looks down and drops her arms. “God, you’re crass and disgusting and crude and-and…”

“You at a loss for words, Speedy? That’s a first. Hang on, let me get my camera out to capture the moment.” I pretend to reach for my phone.

“Ugh! You’re a pig!”

“Who’s a pig?” Tate asks, walking through the door.

“Me apparently.”

“Well, that’s nothing new.”

Tate’s eyes go to Speedy, who has swiveled around to look at him.