Hollywood Dirt
Page 68
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“A live chicken?” Justin finally asked.
“Yes. A rooster.”
“I’ll find out,” Justin managed.
Cole said goodbye and hung up. He had lost a wife and gained a pet chicken. Yep. Sounded about right.
CHAPTER 74
At the end of a very long day, Cole walked into the hotel suite, tossing his wallet on the counter, while he scrolled through his phone. He found the Kirklands’ home phone number and pressed SEND, trying to do the math in his head. It was… midnight there? Eleven?
“Hello?” her voice was thick, almost drugged.
“Summer?” He removed his watch and dropped it on the granite, holding on to the edge of the island as he worked off his first dress boot. “It’s Cole.”
“I know.” She yawned. “It’s late. Are you just now getting home?”
“Yeah. But it’s not that late here.”
“Still a long day.” There was a rustle of something and then quiet.
He got his second boot off and walked to the first chair in the living room, collapsing into it. Why had he called her? He tried to think of a reason. To check on Cocky? That was flimsy. “Summer?” The line had been quiet too long. “Summer?” he repeated, more urgency in his tone. This woman’s refusal to lock doors was ridiculous. What if someone had come in, snuck into her room?
“Hmm?” More rustling.
“Did you just fall asleep?”
“Uh-huh.” A response completely lacking in apology.
“Do you know how many girls would kill for me to call them? The studio runs giveaways for shit like this all the time, with millions of entries.”
“Girls,” she mumbled. “Not women. I used to want a belly button ring too, once.”
“I’m not a belly button ring.” That was a statement he never thought he’d say aloud.
“Uh-huh.” The word was muffled, as if she had a pillow over the receiver.
“Where are you? Which bedroom?” He tried to think of which bedrooms had phones. Tried to remember if they were cordless or not.
“Yours. I tried to sleep in the downstairs bedroom, but it was too hot.” She suddenly sounded a little more awake. “Is that okay?”
Good Lord. Her voice wasn’t the only thing that just woke up. His cock suddenly needed an adjustment, and he undid his belt, his hands busy, purely for comfort reasons, unzipping his pants just to give his cock room to breathe.
“What are you wearing?” the words came out much more sexual than he had intended.
“What?” she giggled against the phone. “Cole Masten, I am not doing this with you.”
A giggle. That was new. He liked it. He ran his fingers down the length of himself, then wrapped his hand around it, squeezing his cock firmly. “I’m asking purely out of concern for Cocky. He’s never seen a naked woman before. I worry about his poultry hormones.”
“His poultry hormones?” her words were no longer muffled. She had probably rolled over. On her back. Her eyes staring up at him. “You don’t have to worry about Cocky. I’m not naked.”
“Oh.” He dragged his fist from the base of his dick to the head, his grip firm, an exhale of frustration over the day escaping. He should hang up the phone. Jack off and go to bed.
“I’m wearing underwear.”
His grip tightened, his cock now fully hard, sticking up and out of his hand. “Summer,” he groaned. He thought of her, stretched out in his bed, the covers kicked off, how she had looked in those tiny cotton panties. “And a tank top?” he asked.
“No.” she sighed out the response, hesitation in her next words. “I was hot.”
He pushed on the base of his dick, worried for an adolescent moment that he might nut right there. Was this actually happening? This conversation? This direction?
“I should go to bed,” she whispered out the sentence.
“No.” He closed his eyes and slid deeper in the chair, his feet spreading, his head falling back on the chair. “You shouldn’t.”
“This is wrong.”
“Summer.” The words were a painful distraction from the ache in his hand, and he slid his thumb over the head, a stream of pre-come leaking out, his eyes watching it. “My cock is rock hard, and all I can think of is you in my bed right now. Please don’t torture me by hanging up the phone.”
Her breath catching was the most beautiful sound in the world. “You’re thinking about me?”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day. I wish I were next to you. I wish you could reach over and feel me right now.”
“I’ve never done this, Cole. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just… touch yourself.” He closed his eyes and pushed against the floor, tightening his legs and working his hand up and down. “Have you ever touched yourself?”
“I’ve been single for three years,” she said tartly. “Bringing myself to orgasm is not a new thing.”
He laughed despite himself. “God, I’d love to fill up that smart mouth with my cock.”
“I wish… that morning…” He held his breath while he waited on her to complete the sentence.
“I wish you had done it. Had flipped me over and put your mouth on me.” There was the sound of sheets, and then her voice was clear again. “I’ve thought about that so much.”
“Yes. A rooster.”
“I’ll find out,” Justin managed.
Cole said goodbye and hung up. He had lost a wife and gained a pet chicken. Yep. Sounded about right.
CHAPTER 74
At the end of a very long day, Cole walked into the hotel suite, tossing his wallet on the counter, while he scrolled through his phone. He found the Kirklands’ home phone number and pressed SEND, trying to do the math in his head. It was… midnight there? Eleven?
“Hello?” her voice was thick, almost drugged.
“Summer?” He removed his watch and dropped it on the granite, holding on to the edge of the island as he worked off his first dress boot. “It’s Cole.”
“I know.” She yawned. “It’s late. Are you just now getting home?”
“Yeah. But it’s not that late here.”
“Still a long day.” There was a rustle of something and then quiet.
He got his second boot off and walked to the first chair in the living room, collapsing into it. Why had he called her? He tried to think of a reason. To check on Cocky? That was flimsy. “Summer?” The line had been quiet too long. “Summer?” he repeated, more urgency in his tone. This woman’s refusal to lock doors was ridiculous. What if someone had come in, snuck into her room?
“Hmm?” More rustling.
“Did you just fall asleep?”
“Uh-huh.” A response completely lacking in apology.
“Do you know how many girls would kill for me to call them? The studio runs giveaways for shit like this all the time, with millions of entries.”
“Girls,” she mumbled. “Not women. I used to want a belly button ring too, once.”
“I’m not a belly button ring.” That was a statement he never thought he’d say aloud.
“Uh-huh.” The word was muffled, as if she had a pillow over the receiver.
“Where are you? Which bedroom?” He tried to think of which bedrooms had phones. Tried to remember if they were cordless or not.
“Yours. I tried to sleep in the downstairs bedroom, but it was too hot.” She suddenly sounded a little more awake. “Is that okay?”
Good Lord. Her voice wasn’t the only thing that just woke up. His cock suddenly needed an adjustment, and he undid his belt, his hands busy, purely for comfort reasons, unzipping his pants just to give his cock room to breathe.
“What are you wearing?” the words came out much more sexual than he had intended.
“What?” she giggled against the phone. “Cole Masten, I am not doing this with you.”
A giggle. That was new. He liked it. He ran his fingers down the length of himself, then wrapped his hand around it, squeezing his cock firmly. “I’m asking purely out of concern for Cocky. He’s never seen a naked woman before. I worry about his poultry hormones.”
“His poultry hormones?” her words were no longer muffled. She had probably rolled over. On her back. Her eyes staring up at him. “You don’t have to worry about Cocky. I’m not naked.”
“Oh.” He dragged his fist from the base of his dick to the head, his grip firm, an exhale of frustration over the day escaping. He should hang up the phone. Jack off and go to bed.
“I’m wearing underwear.”
His grip tightened, his cock now fully hard, sticking up and out of his hand. “Summer,” he groaned. He thought of her, stretched out in his bed, the covers kicked off, how she had looked in those tiny cotton panties. “And a tank top?” he asked.
“No.” she sighed out the response, hesitation in her next words. “I was hot.”
He pushed on the base of his dick, worried for an adolescent moment that he might nut right there. Was this actually happening? This conversation? This direction?
“I should go to bed,” she whispered out the sentence.
“No.” He closed his eyes and slid deeper in the chair, his feet spreading, his head falling back on the chair. “You shouldn’t.”
“This is wrong.”
“Summer.” The words were a painful distraction from the ache in his hand, and he slid his thumb over the head, a stream of pre-come leaking out, his eyes watching it. “My cock is rock hard, and all I can think of is you in my bed right now. Please don’t torture me by hanging up the phone.”
Her breath catching was the most beautiful sound in the world. “You’re thinking about me?”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day. I wish I were next to you. I wish you could reach over and feel me right now.”
“I’ve never done this, Cole. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just… touch yourself.” He closed his eyes and pushed against the floor, tightening his legs and working his hand up and down. “Have you ever touched yourself?”
“I’ve been single for three years,” she said tartly. “Bringing myself to orgasm is not a new thing.”
He laughed despite himself. “God, I’d love to fill up that smart mouth with my cock.”
“I wish… that morning…” He held his breath while he waited on her to complete the sentence.
“I wish you had done it. Had flipped me over and put your mouth on me.” There was the sound of sheets, and then her voice was clear again. “I’ve thought about that so much.”
