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Charlie turns to face Lex, and he’s quick to shut her down. “Not me. So don’t give me those devil eyes. I fought long and hard for you. You’re stuck with me for life.”
That seems to lift Charlie’s mood. She leans her head against Lex then plants a soft kiss on his lips.
“Hey,” I warn. “No PDA at the tea party.”
Up until this moment, I had no interest in anything but fucking women. But as I look around me and see the love in this house, the three beautiful daughters and the bond that Lex and Charlie have, I question whether or not I want a life like this. Isn’t this the end goal in life, to find someone to grow old with? I know I have plenty of time. My so-called marriage clock isn’t ticking. Anyway, isn’t it all about finding the right person?
And then her face pops into my head, Morgan Bentley, the bane of my existence. The woman who left me alone with that thought planted in my head. She loves to receive.
My mind wanders to places like her sweet—albeit uptight—pussy. This woman clearly has a degree in being a cock tease.
Seconds later, I’m distracted by a vibration in my pocket. Pulling out my cell, I see a text from her.
Morgan: Meeting tomorrow with Scarlett Winters. Address to follow.
That’s all the text says. Is this seriously all I get? It’s so cold and impersonal coming from someone who’s shared intimate details with me. She’s got a hungry pussy that loves to receive. Her words, not mine.
My hand grips my cell tight, the urge to throw it across the room curbed only moments later. I don’t even respond. Screw giving her the satisfaction of knowing she’s on my fucking mind.
Focus on this—you’ll finally get to meet Scarlett.
I should be breathing a sigh of relief.
I should be bouncing off the walls.
Tomorrow will finally be the day.
But what if after all this time, this isn’t what I want?
Chapter Thirteen
It’s just as I imagined. A modern, almost all-glass home, sitting on top of the hill overlooking the Hollywood sign. It’s your typical movie star palatial mansion. There’s a large gate at the bottom of the hill, with a security guard sitting beside it. After he does his check, he allows me to drive through, up the steep driveway until I reach the main entrance. I park my car, admiring the huge fountain that sits proudly in front of the property.
The door is tall, made of frosted glass. I ring the doorbell to be greeted by the housekeeper. She ushers me into the sitting room, which opens onto a back patio which overlooks the pool. The infinity pool sparkles in the backyard, and everything about this home screams Scarlett Winters—movie star.
Morgan is nowhere in sight, and throughout her text messages, she made no reference as to whether or not she would be here today. I didn’t want to push her, this meeting is about Scarlett. I wait patiently in the sitting room, staring at the glass cabinets showcasing her awards. Rows and rows of statues and plaques rewarding her for her acting. Oscars, Golden Globes, the list goes on.
“Talented, isn’t she?”
I turn around. Morgan’s standing at the entrance of the room. Her face appears distant, eyes worn out like she’s been up all night. Wearing a sleek black dress, she places her keys on the glass table.
“It appears so,” I acknowledge, moving my attention to Morgan.
“She should be here any minute,” she says plainly, void of any emotion.
“About yesterday…” I trail off.
“I get it.” Staring straight at me, without blinking, she says firmly, “You were frustrated. You want to meet Scarlett and move forward with the project.”
“Yes... I mean, no. Morgan…” I move closer to her, her body now only an arm’s length away, “… you never answered me about yesterday. Why did you cancel our meeting?”
“I said I had—”
There’s chaos at the door, followed by the sharp click of heels on the marble floor tiles. Scarlett walks into the room, followed by three other women behind her, rushing around like nervous servants.
“Oh,” she exclaims, following with a playful smile. “So, this is Mr. Mason.” She walks to me, extending her hand as I shake it politely. She’s everything in real life that she is in the movies. Beautiful with flawless skin and perfectly styled platinum-blonde hair. Her signature lipstick has been applied to perfection, not a single smudge or mark out of place. With a body like hers, she manages to pull off a white jumpsuit with gold strappy heels which make her look exactly like what she is—a movie star.
This should be a jaw-dropping moment for me. Yet, something isn’t right. My jaw is perfectly holding up without any desire to move. My dick stirs slightly, but I wouldn’t consider the stir anything of value to talk about.
