Page 157 of Breaking Hollywood

Yeah, I know I said I was a shit writer, but I took some writing classes. Turns out, I’m not as bad as I thought I was.

I’m writing a screenplay about my life. I have a lot to tell. And doing it has been therapeutic.

I’m almost finished writing it. When it’s done, I’ll give it to Tate to read. It involves him, so he should be the first to read it.

Whether I’ll shop it to any studios or not, I’m not sure. But, for now, I’m glad I’m writing my story.

“Hey there, handsome.”

I turn at the sound of Speedy’s voice, and I nearly choke on the smoke in my lungs.

She looks fucking beautiful.

She always looks beautiful. But, right now…she’s in a silver satin dress with black lace covering my girls, Pinky and Perky. Her hair is tumbling in waves down her back. The black stilettos on her feet will look amazing while wrapped around my back.

She looks hot as fuck.

My cock is standing to attention, ready to get in on some action with my girl.

I quick a glance at my watch. We’ve got ten minutes before the car gets here to take us to dinner. That’s enough time for a quickie.

I stub my cigarette out, put a mint in my mouth, and walk over to her.

“You look gorgeous,” I tell her.

“Right back at ya, babe.” She smiles, pressing her hands to my chest. “And we’re matching.” She tugs gently on my tie.

I’m wearing a fitted black suit, dark gray shirt, and silver tie.

“Yes, we are.” I slide my hands over her hips and grab her ass. “So…we’ve got ten minutes before the car gets here…” I raise a suggestive brow as I lean in and press my mouth to hers.

The sound of the buzzer for the gate has me sighing. “For fuck’s sake.”

She giggles against my lips. “That’ll be the driver.”

“He can wait.” I start to kiss my way down her neck and cup her tit in my hand.

She moans softly.

The buzzer goes off again.

I stop kissing her neck and growl out a sound of frustration.

“We should go. He’ll just keep buzzing.”

“He’ll get his ass kicked, is what he’ll get,” I grumble. “And the fucker can say good-bye to his tip.”

She laughs again. “Come on, grumpy ass.” She takes hold of my hand and leads me toward the front door. “We can have sex later.”

“You bet your hot ass we will.”

We arrive at the restaurant, and the maître d’ leads us to the private dining room that I reserved.

It’s a new Mediterranean tapas restaurant that recently opened, and it has been getting rave reviews.

We’re seated, and the waiter appears, asking for our drink order.

I order sparkling water. Speedy orders a virgin strawberry daiquiri.