Falling out of Hate with You: Hate - Love Duet Book One by Rowe, Lauren (novel books to read txt) 📕
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I lick my lips, poised to say, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me forever.”
But she shuts me up by gripping my cock, the same way she did the night of the hot tub.
“Don’t speak,” she cautions. “And don’t kiss me, either. Just fuck me. Fuck me, hard, like you did in Phoenix.”
Exhaling a stilted breath, I wordlessly unzip her dress and peel it off her, until it’s in a crumpled heap at her feet. With my cock dripping, I pick her up by her glorious ass, push her back against the wall, press my aching tip against her wet entrance, and—
“Savage!”
No.
It’s my manager, Eli, again.
“Savage!” he shouts. “Open up. It’s an emergency!”
No, no, no!
All of a sudden, Laila disappears from my arms in a puff of sensuous smoke. There’s another banging sound. And then Eli’s voice rips me from my dream and into stark consciousness. I open my eyes and discover I’m not backstage in an arena, on the cusp of finally fucking Laila again. I’m in a hotel room. Naked and alone in bed, in the late morning light. Also, damn, I’m nursing one hell of a hangover.
Groaning, I rub my pained forehead—and as I do, Eli’s yelling and banging on the door persists and becomes even louder. I glance at my phone on the nightstand and curse at the time: 10:18. That’s way too early for anyone to wake me when I’m not on tour, especially the morning after Kai’s birthday party. Whatever brought Eli here, it’d better be damned important.
At the thought, goosebumps erupt on my skin. And not the good kind.
Mimi.
Quickly, I swipe into my texts, making sure I don’t have something from Sasha. And, thank God, I don’t. Exhaling with relief, I throw on a pair of underwear and shuffle to the door. And the minute I see my manager’s facial expression, I know whatever “emergency” he’s come to tell me about this morning, he’s not here to tell me the worst possible news. The news I’ve been dreading since Mimi took a turn for the worse. Which means, whatever it is, I really don’t give a fuck.
Scratching my belly, I lean against the doorjamb and yawn so wide, I’m sure Eli can glimpse the inside-bottoms of my ball sacs through my mouth. “Whatever this ‘emergency’ is,” I drawl, “it’d better be damned important. I was in the middle of an amazing dream.”
Eli motions to the hard-on bulging from behind my briefs. “So I’ve gathered. Put that thing away before you poke someone’s eye out.” He barges past me into the room and scowls at my briefs again. “Jesus, Savage. Seriously. Think about drowning puppies or something.” He strides toward the bathroom. “Are you alone in here, Player?”
“Yeah.”
Ignoring my reply, he peeks into the bathroom to see for himself.
“Why ask me, then?” I mutter, flopping into an armchair. I’m not surprised Eli wants independent corroboration of my answer. As Eli has said many times, he doesn’t consider me a “reliable narrator” on my best day, let alone after a night of hard partying with my best friends.
When he returns to me from the bathroom, he looks furious with me.
“What’s wrong with you?” he yells. “You signed the contract on Thursday morning and turned around and breached it on Friday night?”
“I didn’t breach it,” I assure him. “All I did last night was—"
“I know exactly what you did! And so do the producers! Savage, you know how paranoid they are about avoiding scandals with their judges this season, big or small, thanks to The Hugh Debacle. They told you, repeatedly, in writing and verbally, they want you to be a Boy Scout for the entire season.”
“And I will be. Shooting begins on Monday. Don’t worry. I didn’t do anything bad. It was all in good fun."
“I know everything you did!” he shouts. “And you wanna know how? Because you stupidly threw Kai’s birthday party in the pool area of a busy hotel—where any guest of the party, and any guest of the hotel, or any employee of the hotel, could see your antics—and by that I mean your naked swan dive into the swimming pool!—and snap as many photos and videos of you in action as they pleased. Which is exactly what a whole lot of them did!”
I chuckle. “It’s fine. It’s nothing the world hasn’t already seen. I’ve told you about ‘Birthday Truth or Dare,’ right? It’s harmless fun.”
“Not harmless!” he shouts, practically pulling out his dark hair with frustration. “You signed a multi-million-dollar contract that included a strict morality clause. And a day and a half later, a screen shot of your dick is, yet again, trending on Twitter!”
I put my palms together in prayer. “At number one?”
“Fucking hell, Savage!” he shouts, his dark eyes bugging out. “This isn’t funny! The producers called me an hour ago, wanting to terminate your contract.”
Well, that gets my attention. “Because of a little full-frontal nudity?”
“That, and the fact that they don’t trust you as far as they can throw you. You made promises that you’ve totally disregarded. It’s a family show! And Hugh has sullied their brand. They need to know they can trust you—that they can control you. What was one of the most important rules they impressed upon you at the meeting? No more going viral for all the wrong reasons!”
My pulse is racing now. “Shit. I didn’t think they’d care if I added a couple more shots to my internet dick pic collection. It’s part of my branding by now, don’t you think? Might even help the show, I’d think.”
He shakes his head, looking like he wants to slap me. “I hate you right now. You made a promise—a four-million-dollar promise—and now they think you’ve broken it. It’s as simple as that.”
I take a deep breath and rub my forehead. “Okay. I get where they’re coming from,
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