Taming Hollywood's Baddest Boy - Max Monroe Page 0,58

top of me.”

Before I can comprehend what he means, he flips us over, and I’m on top, straddling his hips and staring down at him.

My long hair falls forward, and he reaches up to push it over my shoulders as a new rush of pleasure makes a buzz start up in the back of my head.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, and I could easily say the same. Firm muscles, strong jaw, painfully handsome face, and the kind of blue eyes that could hypnotize just about any man or woman into a trance.

Luca Weaver is a work of art.

When God made him, it wasn’t a hasty job. He took his time, perfected every line, every curve, every muscle. And right now, Luca’s giving me the same kind of attention to detail.

I’m high off him—off us, together, like this.

“Ride me,” he says, and his hands grip my hips. “Make yourself come on my cock.”

Fuck.

I wasn’t the best student in school, but this is an assignment I can handle. In fact, I think I’ll pass with flying colors.

I moan and let his hands guide my hips.

“Yes, that’s it,” he whispers, his eyes still locked on me. “Fuck, that’s it.”

Up and down, I move my hips and stroke his length inside me until I feel like I’m going to explode from the pleasure.

Every damn nerve ending inside my body stands to attention, striking at my pleasure until it lights my climax on fire like a match.

It’s too strong, too damn intense, and I can no longer hold myself up. I fall forward until our chests meet. My lips are near his ear, and moans and panting breaths and god knows what else falls past my tongue.

Luca isn’t far behind me.

He grips my hips tighter with his fingers and he presses himself deep, and a rough, raspy groan leaves his lungs as he finishes inside me. It’s guttural and intense, and I have no doubt I’ll be able to feel it rumbling through me for the rest of my life.

It takes a long moment for both of us to catch our breath, and a small niggle of fear uses that time to invade. I’m not ready for him to disengage—to roll over and say something to ruin the last fifteen minutes of heaven. When he wraps his big arms around me and holds me tight to his chest, I can’t stop myself from melting in relief.

He caresses my hair with his fingers, and I lie there, inside his embrace, trying to wrap my mind around what just happened.

This was not the plan…but it happened.

And the idea of taking it back now is almost painful.

Silence overwhelms the room as both of us avoid anything that could ruin the moment.

And for that, I’m thankful. There’s a lot of stuff I’m feeling right now, but I don’t have even an inkling of the urge to fight.

The only thing I want to do is lie here. With Luca.

Luca

As it turns out, one very specific part of me is not opposed to exploring something from Hollywood again. A beautiful, emerald-eyed goddess who’s somehow managed to insert herself into my life.

The asshole part of me wishes I could still say I don’t like her here.

But I’d be flat-out lying. I do like that she’s here, chatting my ear off and giving me sass.

And, it only took one fan-fucking-tastic night for me to understand that sex with Billie Harris is so good, it’s dangerous.

The sun serves as my alarm clock, and I blink my eyes open to find the gorgeous sight of her lying beside me. She’s still deep in sleep, her eyes are closed, and soft, relaxed breaths move her lungs up and down.

My gaze grazes over her face, taking in the way her cheeks always seem to have a hint of a blush, how her full lips are lax, and the way her long blond hair is scattered across her pillow in a beautiful mess.

I don’t know what it is about this woman, but I’ve grown intrigued.

Hell, if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve probably been fascinated since the instant she showed up at my cabin uninvited and talked her way on to this trip in the first place.

Whatever the reason for my initial and certainly out-of-character softness, she’s here, lying in bed with me after a night of the most intense sex I’ve had in my entire life.

Last night, I was inside her…bare.

In my old life, protecting against unprotected sex was about the only thing I did responsibly.