Smooth Operator Page 9

I exited the bathroom, expecting Tyler to be waiting where I'd left him. He was gone. I looked around the room in confusion and located him quickly. He was leaning against a wall with Vanessa draped all over him, looking cozy as hell. It's probably not what it looks like. I started walking towards them again and stopped dead in my tracks when Vanessa kissed Tyler on the neck.

  I turned around, trying to contain my rage. I have to admit, Tyler was bold. He didn't even wait five minutes for me to get back to the bathroom before he'd moved on to the next woman who was willing to sleep with him. I wanted to slap myself in the face. How could I have thought I was special? Tyler goes through women like underwear. Of course if I left him high and dry, he'd move on to a gorgeous, willing vamp who clearly wanted him. I needed this reminder that Tyler was a man whore. A womanizer. A rake.

  I put my glass down and turned to leave the party, as I was no longer in a celebratory mood, and Tyler had left a sour taste in my mouth anyway.

  ∞∞∞

  I pulled back the covers on my bed, ready to bury my head under the covers and forget how stupid I'd been tonight. I'd just gotten myself fully wrapped in the comforter when there was a knock at my door. I groaned and ignored it, but the knock became more insistent. There was only one person who would be knocking on my door at midnight.

  I got out of bed and swung the door open to face Tyler, who was standing with a clenched jaw in my doorway, flaming mad. What did he have to be angry about? I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. "What do you want, Tyler? It's late."

  "Why did you leave me at the party tonight?" Tyler entered my room without asking, and I stepped in front of him to block his way. He shut the door behind him anyway.

  "I was tired," I lied.

  "Are you avoiding me?" Tyler asked. He moved closer to me, and I backed up. "What, you're just going to bed? You don't care to finish what you started?"

  "No," I said. "You looked like you were recovering just fine without me."

  Tyler looked at me with narrowed eyes, not knowing my meaning. It dawned on him, and a huge smile broke across his face, all the annoyance from earlier vanishing. "You're jealous."

  "Please." I scoffed. "I'm not jealous. I just don't share."

  Tyler backed me up against the wall until I didn't have anywhere else to look but at him. His grin had been replaced with something else, something carnal, full of need. "Olivia, you have nothing to be jealous of with Vanessa. She's an old friend, nothing more. Sometimes she gets handsy when she's drunk, but I pulled her off of me as soon as she tried to kiss me." Tyler grabbed my hand, interlacing our fingers. "You really think I could be with you one minute and immediately move on to the first willing woman?"

  "I don't know what to think, and it's not my place to judge." I swallowed. "I can't get jealous because nothing is going on between us."

  "I beg to differ," Tyler growled. He ran his hands up my back, stopping at the base of my neck. One eyebrow quirked, asking me a silent question, and at my slight nod, he brought his face down, his lips were fluttering lightly against mine. I moaned at the sudden contact, grasping him by the neck. Tyler took advantage of my open mouth, using the opportunity to deepen the kiss and explore me.

  His hand traveled down my spine, coming to rest on my ass. He grasped the round cheek and pulled me into him, holding my leg up, so we were fully connected at our cores. I squirmed, needing more, but Tyler broke the kiss suddenly. He dropped a final light kiss on my nose before stepping back. "Stop running away from me, Olivia. Trust that I want you, and only you." I stared at him, unable to speak. Who was this unreal man? He winked at me and stepped out into the hallway. "Sweet dreams." With that wink and goodbye, he sauntered off to the elevators. I watched his retreating back, a quivering mess of arousal. I was going to need to take care of that tonight.

  Had I just agreed to something?

  Chapter Ten

  I went back into work on Monday tense for a couple of reasons. Tyler and I hadn't discussed our dry humping, my freak out, or even our kiss at all, and Monday was the first day of shooting. I couldn't believe I'd thought rehearsals were draining. The days we spent shooting were long, and both Doug and Vanessa were perfectionists, making our days even longer than necessary. We spent a lot of time redoing takes until one of them deemed it perfect.

  I was already wiped by Wednesday night. As per usual, I was in bed as soon as my clothes were off. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, silently calculating how many hours of sleep I would get if I fell asleep right at that moment. My cell phone chimed, and I popped my eyes open, cursing myself for taking it off of silent mode. I glanced at the bright screen. Tyler.

  My eyes widened, my lousy mood dissipating. I sat up on my elbow, lowering the brightness on the screen to read the text.

  TS: What are you doing?

  What am I doing? It's eleven o'clock at night, and I have to be awake at five the next morning after being on set for fourteen hours today.

  OH: Not much, just laying around. You?

  His response was immediate.

  TS: Thinking about you. ;-)

  I smiled and leaned back against my pillow, holding my phone up in front of my face. Tyler was thinking of me? Okay, time to think of something suave and sexy.

  OH: Nice!

  No, that was all wrong. Too friendly. I backspaced.

  OH: ;-)

  I nodded, pleased with myself. That was mysterious.

  TS: Are you in bed?

  OH: Yes.

  TS: What are you doing in that bed?

  Currently trying not to fall flat on my face in what has evolved into a sexting session. That wasn't exactly something I could tell him, though, not without seeming like a giant dork.

  TS: Are you thinking about me?

  Yes, I was. Tyler was the main feature in my thoughts these days. Time to go all in.

  OH: Yes. All day. Practically every second of every day.

  Tyler typed something, then stopped. I cursed that disappearing ellipsis. What had I been thinking, telling him that? I knew I was coming on too strong. Tyler started typing again, and I held my breath in anticipation.

  TS: All day, huh? Do you ever have to touch yourself when you're thinking about me?

  I let out my breath, reading and re-reading his text. This was an excellent idea. I let go of my inhibitions and gave in to the inevitable. I moved one hand up to my nipple and rolled it between my thumb and forefinger.

  OH: I'm touching myself right now.

  TS: Fuck that's hot. I'm rock hard for you.

  OH: Do something about it, then.

  TS: Believe me, baby, I am. I'm imagining this hand is your pretty mouth, sucking every inch of me in.

  My hand had made its way to my clit by now, and I let out a soft mewl of pleasure when I made contact with the hard nub. I rubbed faster, thinking about Tyler's hard cock. What would it be like? Thick and veiny? Long and smooth? I needed to find out.

  OH: Send me a picture.

  TS: Wish I could, but that's a no can do, sweetheart. You'll just have to discover it in person. ;-)

  I slumped in disappointment, but I understood why he didn’t want to send a picture of his dick into the world. I’d just have to settle for my imagination.

  OH: :-(

  TS: Are you still touching yourself?

  OH: Yes.

  TS: I'm so close, baby. Put a finger in your pussy. Imagine it's my hands, my tongue making you cum. I want to taste you while you're coming all over my face.

  Holy shit. I did as I was told. I began pumping in and out, pressing my clit at the same time. I used one hand to type as the tension in my core wound tighter and tighter. I was going to break apart any second now.

  OH: I'm so fucking close.

  TS: I'm going to come all over my stomach.

  I bit my lip, imagining Tyler's hot spunk hitting my chest. I came, biting my pillow to muffle my cry as my vagina pulsed around my fingers. I stopped rubbing slowly, lying there with a fuzzy head and a stupid smile,
content for the moment. One half-second of bliss, then the weight of what we had just done hit me in the post-orgasm clarity window.

  TS: Satisfied customer?

  OH: I CANNOT believe I just sexted someone.

  Tyler was calling now. I contemplated not answering it- maybe never answering my phone again- but I put the receiver to my ear, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

  "Hey," I mumbled. "Excuse me while I die a little inside here."

  Tyler chuckled. "That was just a teaser for the main event, darling," he drawled. "Sweet dreams."

  He hung up, his phone call brief but efficient. He didn't want me to be embarrassed and had let me know with one sentence that there was no reason for me to be. I had a feeling my dreams weren't going to be sweet that night. They were going to be filthy.

  ∞∞∞

  Thursday and Friday passed in a blur, with minimal time for Tyler and I to hang out, apart from secret kisses that he stole between takes and flirty texts throughout the day. Finally, we had completed our first week of shooting. I laid in bed Saturday morning, fully intending to stay there until noon, and I ordered room service for breakfast to help facilitate my not getting out of bed until noon.

  There was a knock on my door, and I knew it couldn't be room service because I'd ordered only minutes before. That left one other possibility. Tyler.

  "Hello, gorgeous," he said. He leaned down and planted a dazzling kiss on me. "Get dressed. We're going out."

  "What?" I stood back as Tyler let himself in.

  Tyler flopped down on my bed, reclining with his head propped up by his elbow. "Well, I know you were going to spend half the day in bed watching television, so I'm here to take you out and be your Los Angeles tour guide." He waggled his eyebrows at me. "Unless you'd like to spend all day in bed. I can't promise I'll leave, though."

  That was a tempting prospect, but I somehow didn't think Tyler was entirely serious about it. I shook my head. "You're wrong. I had lots of plans for today. I was just getting ready to get breakfast when you came over."

  The room service deliverer chose that moment to knock on the door. I hoped I could play it off, but they announced themselves as room service, and my lie was exposed. Tyler smirked as I let the delivery guy in and quickly shooed him away as soon as the food was in the room. Tyler stood up to survey my spread. "Are you feeding a family of six this morning?"

  "I'm hungry. You can share if you want some," I said begrudgingly.

  Tyler grabbed a banana and a muffin. "I'll eat light. I have a shirtless scene in a week, and where we're going today, we're going to eat like shit."

  I looked down guiltily at my full-fat cappuccino and french toast with a side of bacon and extra whipped cream. "Eh. I'll burn it off on my run tomorrow morning."

  Tyler laughed. "You don't need to worry. You're perfect the way you are."

  I smiled and ate my breakfast as Tyler looked on with jealousy. When we were done, I stood and announced that I needed to shower before we left.

  "Need some company?" Tyler asked casually.

  I faltered, dangerously close to accepting the offer. Tyler grinned broadly and sat up.

  "Calm down, cowboy. I can manage on my own," I said, pushing him back down.

  His face fell. "Your loss. Although, if I got in there with you, we wouldn't get anything done for the rest of the day."

  "So cocky." I closed the bathroom door behind me and got ready as quickly as possible, running my fingers through my wet hair to untangle it and donning a sundress with tennis shoes. I put on a bit of mascara and some lip gloss, then came back out to where Tyler was flipping through channels on the bed.

  "Okay," I said. Tyler's eyes raked over me appreciatively, and I wanted to climb into bed and mount him, plans be damned. Sadly, I stayed where I was and asked, "So where are we going?"

  Tyler sat up and threw the remote to the side, where it got lost in the mess of my sheets. "The Santa Monica Pier. It's a quintessential Los Angeles tourist attraction- the end of Route 66. Buskers, overpriced restaurants, an amusement park. You name it, they've got it."

  "Sounds great," I said truthfully. Tyler stood up and came to stand in front of me, gazing down. He grabbed me by the hips, surprising me, and pulled my face closer to his. He covered my mouth hungrily, crushing me to his chest. I balanced on my tiptoes to reach his mouth, returning his kiss with equal desperation. His arms ventured lower, cupping my ass, and I moaned, my senses obliterated.

  Tyler broke away, making me pout, and laughed shakily. "We're not going to get anything done if we keep doing that," he said in a husky voice.

  "I can't find a reason to care right now," I said.

  Tyler laughed again. "Come on. I'll drive."

  "If you insist." Tyler could be taking me to the city dump for all I cared. All I could focus on was his hand in mine, my hand in his. His hands had a way of making me feel small and feminine- not an easy feat.

  When we got to the parking garage, still hand-in-hand, I found out why Tyler wanted to be the driver. "This is my baby," he said, letting go of my hand to present a red sports car. I don't know much about cars, but this one looked nice even to my untrained eye.

  "It's nice," I said.

  "Nice?" Tyler looked at me like I was crazy. "Nice isn't dignified enough of a word for her." He came around to the passenger side and held open the door for me. I wanted to think it was a chivalrous gesture, but it's entirely possible he didn't want anyone else to touch the car. I sidled into the leather seat, pulling my dress further under my thighs so that my legs didn't stick to the seat. Tyler hopped into the driver's seat with a grin.

  "Is this a Corvette?" I asked, trying to seem knowledgeable.

  Tyler's jaw dropped. "A Corvette?"

  "Not a Corvette, then," I said. "I don't know much about cars."

  "This is an 812 Superfast," Tyler said. It didn't ring a bell, and Tyler sighed at the blank look on my face. "A Ferrari. The 812 Superfast makes a Corvette seem like a beater. I'm not even allowed to keep this car if I don't race it every now and again."

  "Ah, I recognize Ferrari. How showy of you," I said. "Who named this car, a twelve-year-old?"

  "It describes the car perfectly," Tyler said. He rubbed the dashboard, whispering into it. "Ignore what she says, baby, you're perfect as you are."

  I rolled my eyes but didn't comment. I put on my big sunglasses and buckled up. "Drive the speed limit, please," I said primly.

  Tyler pouted but did as he was asked. He pulled out of the parking lot and onto Hollywood Boulevard, following it down to Fairfax Avenue. We passed the Farmers Market, in full swing this Saturday morning, the LACMA, La Brea Tar Pits, all of which Tyler pointed out helpfully along with tidbits of information about them. I listened in fascination, loving the dichotomy of Tyler's love for his adopted city. He recognized that it could be shady and glitzy and vapid and glamorous, and loved it just the same. I also didn't want to admit it, but being in this fast car thrilled me. The looks from passersby as we rolled down the street were envious, and it was hard not to feel good.

  Parking at the Santa Monica Pier parking lot was a nightmare. Tyler didn't want to park too close to other cars, so we spent an obnoxious amount of time attempting to find a space that worked for him. He finally settled on a spot in the farthest corner of the lot from the pier. He jogged around the side of the car to let me out, and we stood in the shining sun together, gazing up at the bustling pier.

  "This is gorgeous," I marveled.

  "Told you," Tyler said. "Just ignore the drunk people by the stairs, though."

  I laughed and let Tyler pull me by the hand to get to the pier. I stopped in my tracks once we hit the sand, though. "Wait!"

  "What?" Tyler looked back in confusion. "Is everything okay?"

  "Yeah, of course. I need to do something, though."

  Tyler tilted his head. "What?"

  "I need to go put my feet in the Pacific Ocean," I explained. "It's my first time on the West Coast, and I want to be abl
e to say that I've stood in both bodies of water that surround the United States."

  Tyler squeezed my hand. "We can do that. You know about the Gulf of Mexico, though, right?"

  "Shut up and walk with me." I led the way through the sand, pulling off my tennis shoes on the way. Tyler followed suit, holding his sandals in the same hand as my shoes and we tentatively walked into the ocean together. I shrieked when the water hit my ankles. "It's so cold!"

  "Yeah, it's only May," Tyler said. "This water doesn't heat up until the end of summer."

  "You'd think somewhere that's always warm would have warm water year round," I said.

  "Nah. It's nice to look at, though," Tyler said, gazing out at the horizon.

  I looked out over the water, scanning the view, from the busy pier on the left to the horizon to the mountain on my right. It was breathtaking. I looked up at Tyler, who was watching me take everything in. I grinned at him, feeling silly for being so awestruck, and pulled him out of the water. "Come on. It's cold!"

  We walked to the pier on the sand, sidestepping bits of trash and the occasional junkie on the way to the steps. We cleaned the sand off our feet at the base of the stairs, and Tyler adjusted his hat to ensure he wouldn't be recognized. "What should we do first?" I asked, looking up at my endless options.

  "Do you like roller coasters?" Tyler angled his neck towards Pacific Park, the tiny amusement park located on the pier.

  I followed his gaze to the roller coaster across the pier. It looked a lot more dangerous and unregulated from here than it had from the parking lot. "I do, usually. But this looks awfully unsafe."

  Tyler scoffed. "It's been here forever, and no one's died yet."

  "What a glowing recommendation," I deadpanned. Tyler dragged me to the ticket sales box, where he managed to charm the hell out of the ticket booth girl even with aviator sunglasses and a hat covering his face.

  "Do you know that you do that?" I asked.

  "Do what?" he asked obliviously.

  "Never mind." I dropped it. I didn't want to point out his obvious flirting and make it seem like I was constantly jealous of him.