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Breaking Hollywood by Samantha Towle (9)

Gabe

Speedy brought her stuff up from her car, and it required two trips. God knows how she got so much stuff in that miniature car of hers. The alpha male in me was frustrated at not being able to bring her stuff up for her. Then, she disappeared off to the store. You know, ’cause, apparently, we needed more food even though the last trip she’d made could have fed an entire African village, but she didn’t have the ingredients she needed for tonight’s dinner.

That meant, I was left alone with the goat.

I shut it in the utility room, but all it did was make noise, so I let it out.

I swear to God, the moment I opened the utility room door, she gave me a dirty look, head-butted my good leg, and then proceeded to run around the apartment like a lunatic, looking for Speedy.

It was actually pretty funny. That goat is as crazy as Speedy is.

When the goat realized that she wasn’t here, she came down into the living room where I was sitting, watching hockey on TV and enjoying a whiskey and a smoke—without any grief from Speedy—and she plopped herself down onto the rug. She hasn’t moved since.

I look over at the goat, who seems to be fast asleep.

She’s cute, I guess, for a goat.

But I mean, who the fuck gets a goat for a pet? And calls it Gucci?

Speedy—that’s who.

“Honey, I’m home!” Her tinkling voice and laughter ring through the apartment.

It’s like I just magicked her back by thinking of her.

I’m surprised at how my body reacts to knowing she’s back. My cock twitches, my pulse picks up, and I start to feel warmer.

Gucci the goat hops up from her spot on the rug and starts jumping around. Then, she bolts across the room. I put my cigarette out in the ashtray and finish off my drink.

“Hey, baby girl!” she coos. “You miss Mama? I missed you, too.”

The click of her heels on the floor has me turning my head.

I suck in a breath.

Fuck, she’s stunning.

Nothing’s changed. She’s still wearing the same dress as she went out in, but her hair looks windblown, and her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright. Just how she’d look if I got my hands on her and my cock inside her.

“You were at the store for, like, thirty minutes. How the hell did you miss your goat in that time?”

“I didn’t miss you, if that makes it any better.” She grins. Then, she wafts her hand in front of her nose. “God, it stinks in here.”

She puts the bag of groceries down on the coffee table, and she bends, so I get a spectacular view right down the front of her dress.

Fuck, her tits are gorgeous. I bet her nipples are pink and perky.

My mouth starts to water.

“You really should open a window when you smoke.” She walks over to the window where she reaches up and opens it.

And, now, I’m staring at her ass, and my cock is starting to get a chub on.

“And, not to be a pain, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t smoke around Gucci.”

She turns around, catching me staring, so I raise a brow.

“You’re asking me not to smoke around the goat?”

“I’m asking you not to give my baby girl lung cancer.”

“She’s a goat. And can goats even get lung cancer?”

“She breathes, doesn’t she? Therefore, she has lungs.” She folds her arms over her tits, which pushes them up.

And, of course, my eyes go to them.

How can I not look at them? They’re magnificent.

And then my mind starts to imagine just what I’d do with those luscious tits of hers.

I’d start at the base of her neck. I’d lick my way down to them, and then I’d take one in my hand and the other in my mouth. I’d tease her nipple, licking and biting it—

“Seriously, Gabe! Will you stop staring at my boobs?”

I blink myself free of their hypnotizing hold. “I’m sorry.” A laugh bursts from me. “I don’t mean to stare.”

“Sure you don’t. God, you’re such a pig! Do you always stare at women’s breasts like you do mine? Because you should really consider not doing it. It’s really insulting.”

“I’m not trying to insult you. Actually, it’s a compliment in an ass-backward kind of way. And, no, I don’t always stare at women’s tits. I’m not a total asshole. I’m just a tit man, and, Speedy…you have the best rack I’ve ever seen in my life. Seriously.”

“Thanks. I think.”

She doesn’t look as angry as she did a moment ago, so I think I’ve managed to smooth things over. But she’s right. I really need to stop staring at her tits. If not for my own sanity, then for the sake of my cock because he keeps getting all excited, thinking he’s gonna get some action, only to be left disappointed when nothing happens.

Speedy picks up the grocery bag from the coffee table, and I keep my eyes averted from her tits.

“Why’d you let Gucci out of the utility room anyway?” she asks.

“She was making noise, so I let her out, and she quieted down.”

“Oh. Sorry. It’s probably just because it’s a new place, and she’s not used to it.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll just put these groceries in the kitchen, and then I’ll take her down to the garden for some fresh air. I’ll start dinner when I get back up.”

“I’ll come with you. I could do with some air.” I grab my smokes and put them in my pocket, and then using my crutches, I get up.

“Sure. Great. I’ll just be a sec.”

She disappears into the kitchen and reappears a few minutes later with a pink diamanté harness and lead in her hand along with what looks to be a pink leopard-print dog coat.

For fuck’s sake. That poor goat.

“Are you putting that on the goat?”

“Of course I am.” She crouches down and starts putting the collar onto Gucci. “It’s a new area for her; she’s not familiar with it. And I don’t feel comfortable letting her roam free.”

“I was talking about the hideous dog coat.”

Speedy frowns up at me. “It’s a goat coat. I bought it especially for her, and she loves it.”

“She tell you that?”

She gives me a look. “She did as a matter of fact.”

“Okay, Dr. Dolittle. But you do realize that we live in LA where it’s pretty much hot as fuck all the time.”

“It’s actually a little chilly out today. I don’t want her to catch a cold.” She gets to her feet.

“Speedy, the only thing that goat is going to catch is a ribbing from its goat friends.”

“God, you’re annoying.” She shakes her head, irritated, and then spins on her heel.

“Hey, that’s my line!” I call to her.

She puts her hand behind her back and flips me off.

I laugh.

I fucking love winding her up. It’s become my new favorite pastime.

Smiling to myself, I follow them to the elevator, get inside, and press the button for the ground floor.