Chapter Eighteen
When I got back to the hotel Sunday night, I was a woman on a mission. I needed to talk to Tyler and see if he still wanted me. I got to my room, showered the airplane off of me, then took a deep breath after leaving my hotel room. Here goes nothing.
I nervously rode up the elevator, my mind running wild with doubts. What if Tyler wasn't back from Whistler yet? What if he'd spent the weekend having crazy good-looking sex with Vanessa? What if he just plain wasn't interested in me anymore? I pushed these doubts from my mind. I needed to at least try before giving up for the last time.
I stood outside his door, hesitating. I forced myself to knock. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. Maybe he wasn't back yet. Or perhaps he'd looked through the peephole, saw that it was me and was now hiding silently on the other side of the door, willing me to go away. I turned back towards the elevators, disappointed at my luck, but glad I'd given it a shot.
"Olivia?"
I turned around. Tyler was walking down the hallway next to Vanessa, each of them holding a suitcase. My heart lurched, and I ignored the burning jealousy that pumped through me at the reminder that they'd been on a very private vacation together. I needed to woman up and do this, even if the sight of the two of them returning from Canada together made me want to retreat and give up.
Tyler stared at me intensely, and Vanessa looked curiously between the two of us.
"Hey," I croaked.
"Hey," Tyler replied. He studied my face for a minute. "Why are you on this floor? Your room is six floors down."
"Can we talk?" I asked. I swallowed. When had my mouth gone so dry? I'd drank three bottles of water on the plane ride back.
Tyler was still looking at me with that hardened expression that gutted me, not saying anything.
"I'm, uh, going to leave you two alone," Vanessa said awkwardly, patting Tyler on the chest before disappearing into a suite at the end of the hallway.
"Do you want to go in your room, so we're not just standing in the hallway?" I asked, wiping my sweaty palms on my dress discreetly.
"Sure," he said, clipped. He moved in front of me, slid his card in the door, and stood aside to let me through. Once we were both inside, he turned back to me. "Did you need to discuss the script with me?"
"No," I said. "It's personal."
Tyler's mouth hardened, and I thought he was going to tell me to leave. He stayed silent, though, and I forged on.
"I know I'm messed up after my last relationship," I said.
Tyler's eyebrows rose at my blunt statement. He nodded. "Yes, you are."
I ignored this. "But I have worked through my issues. I'm ready to be open to new people now. Specifically, you. I'm ready to trust you. I trust that you haven't been seeing other women. I trust that you meant it when you said you wanted to be with me. And I want to be with you. If you'll still have me, I mean."
I shifted from foot to foot, waiting for Tyler to say something. He stared at me with the same hard expression he'd worn in the hallway. His eyes dropped to my lips, and the longing there made my knees buckle. I knew he wanted me. I needed him to say yes to me.
Without warning, Tyler's hand shot out and grabbed me by the neck. He hauled my face to his, trapping me in a kiss that was all possessive, all-consuming heat. Months of pent-up attraction and frustration and denial were there. Longing, lust, desire. Love.
I wrapped my arms around Tyler's neck, and he lifted me and carried me to the chaise longue at the foot of his bed. He lowered himself, seating me in his lap facing him. I bit my lip as I stared into his perfect face, my breath hitching at his expression. Tyler pulled me in for another kiss, then smiled against my lips.
"What?" I asked, smiling back.
"It's a good thing you came to your senses," Tyler said.
"Cockiness is unbecoming in a man like you. At some point, it becomes redundant," I said.
"You love it," Tyler said softly, his hands skimming the sides of my breasts.
"Yeah." I leaned back down to his mouth, kissing him while my hips worked of their own accord, grinding on his hardening bulge.
Kissing Tyler Sutton is an experience that words are insufficient for. It cannot be described in the same way you'd describe kissing mere mortals. It was carnal and pure, raw need. Kissing him felt vital, as necessary as taking my next breath. It was unthinkable that I'd gone this long denying myself the life force that was Tyler.
Tyler broke our kiss to pull off his shirt in one motion, then plucked my dress off of me effortlessly. His eyes darkened at the sight of my bare breasts jutting out proudly towards him, begging him to take a nipple into his mouth, and he wasn't one to turn down a beggar.
I gasped when his mouth closed over my areola, teasing the nipple into a hard bud, and I closed my eyes and grabbed his shoulders for balance while he worshiped my breasts. Tyler took this chance to reach between my legs and shove my lacy thong aside. His hand impatiently cupped me, feeling the wetness there. He inserted a finger, then two.
"Oh fuck," I moaned, lost in the sensations from Tyler's mouth working in tandem with his finger to play me like a finely tuned instrument. He kept driving me to the edge, sucking and crooking his fingers in me, until I was soaked and begging him for release.
He stood up suddenly, still holding me by my hips, and turned around to toss me on the bed. I looked up at him, hair tousled, his expression fierce and desirous, and he slid my panties down my legs and crawled between them. He braced himself over me, gazing down.
I laid on my back, waiting for him to make the first move, and he grinned at me. He took my hand and brought it to his cock. I rubbed it up and down, loving the feel of it in my hand. I adored the sound of Tyler's hissing when my hand encircled it and started stroking even more. He let me continue for a few short moments, eyes closed in tortured bliss, before he grabbed my hand away.
"Not going to last very long if you keep that up," he bit out through gritted teeth.
I grinned, loving the power I had over him. I reached for him again, but Tyler grabbed my hand and pinned it to my other hand above my head. Keeping my hands bound, he reached for the nightstand, fumbling in the drawer until he found a condom. He ripped it open with his teeth and rolled it on one-handedly, never breaking eye contact with me or letting up on my hands.
Tyler entered me in one thrust, filling my slick heat entirely and making me cry out with desire. I rolled my hips, urging him to continue, but he stilled, shaking his head.
"What is it?" I groaned, needing him to start moving again or I would go crazy.
"I'm so close already," he grunted.
"So let go," I said. "We can go again."
"Not a fucking chance," he growled. "You're coming first this time. I've waited too long for this to be a two-pump chump."
I raised my hips again, making Tyler groan. He let go of my hands and put both hands on my hips to still me, dropping his head back into my shoulder. I pushed up against his chest, flipping him so that he was on his back and ready for me to ride. He moved one hand from my hip to my clit, exerting exquisite pleasure right above where he was impaling me. I began to rock. Tyler kept his finger on my clit, rubbing and circling it as I rode him, his eyes piercing mine as I quickly approached the precipice.
I broke apart, crying out Tyler's name as I hurtled through the stars and the planets and fell back down to Earth in a daze. Tyler came right behind me, bucking wildly and shouting his release. I collapsed onto his chest, spent, and he gathered me into his arms.
We were lying there silently, relishing each other's company, for several minutes before Tyler excused himself to clean up.
"Don't leave this time," Tyler said, only half-kidding.
"I'm staying put," I said, ashamed that I'd ever put him in a position to mistrust me.
"I'm taking your clothes so you can't sneak out," Tyler joked, kissing me and throwing my clothes on an armchair before heading off to the bathroom. I admired his retreating backside as I reclined against the pillows, unabashed in my nudity. I know it was his job to keep in shape, but that man really did have a gorgeous body, from head to toe. Even his dick was beautiful, and dicks are rarely pleasing to the eye.
The light from a cell phone screen caught my attention, drawing my eyes away from Tyler's hard backside. It wasn't my phone. I'd left mine on the nightstand in my hotel room. I sat against the headboard, debating whether or not to check it out. It could be important. It wasn't snooping if I was worried it was a work call, right? I crawled to the edge of the bed to grab the phone and hand it off to Tyler immediately, or at least that was my intention. What I saw on the screen stopped me in my tracks.
It was a pair of breasts. Clear as day. I looked up at Tyler quickly, who was brushing his teeth in the bathroom, and then back down to his phone. Maybe it was his phone background? That'd be tacky, but not as bad as the alternative.
I looked closer in confusion. It wasn't the phone background. It was a picture text from someone named Becky. I closed out the picture, hating myself for doing this, and was taken back to the conversation that the picture was posted in. I closed out of it and looked at his messages.
There was row after row of texts and dirty pictures, going back to a year ago. Row after row of women, some with actual names and some with names like "Big Tits, Black Dress" or "Ohio Nine, Los Angeles Four." I was disgusted. The pictures got more and more graphic, and the texts became too vulgar for me to read. My name wasn't even in the phone. No doubt he'd deleted our conversations to make room for all these women.
So much for trust and fidelity. I can't believe I'd been beating myself up for not trusting Tyler when he was exactly who I'd been afraid he was all along. I can’t believe I let myself fall in love with him- and let myself believe that he loved me back. I am such a fool.
Well, I was done playing the fool for a man. I was putting my clothes back on when Tyler came back into the bedroom. "Hey, you want to grab some dinner? I'm starved." Tyler's smile faltered when he saw me. "What's going on? You're actually leaving again?"
"Yes," I said, hating the high, pitchy tone of my voice. Why couldn't my voice be clear and strong, instead of whimpering? "I just realized that I'm an idiot, and I've been right about you all along."
"What the fuck?" Tyler's eyes dropped to the cell phone in my hand, and the giant pair of breasts displayed there glared out at both of us. "Olivia, I genuinely have no idea what you're going on about."
"This!" I held up the phone, giving him a good view of the picture. "All these women, even when you claimed you were so into me and wanted to only be with me. Of course it was just an act. I should've just stayed away like I've been doing."
"I do want to be with you, Olivia. I haven't even thought of another woman like that since the day I met you," Tyler said. "I don't know what's going on here, but that's not my cell phone."
"How convenient," I said. "Like I'm going to believe that the cell phone lying on your hotel room floor isn't yours? Smooth."
"Olivia, calm down. You're freaking out," Tyler said in hushed tones.
"Don't tell me to calm down!" I was practically in hysterics at this point. "I'm leaving now. Don't follow me." I threw the cell phone on his bed and grabbed my hotel key, leaving the room before he could follow me.
"Olivia!" Tyler called from his doorway, attracting the attention of an affronted older woman. "Come back here and talk to me," he said in a lower tone.
I ignored him and rushed to the elevator before he could smooth talk his way out of this situation, mashing the "door close" button. Once I was alone, I leaned my head back to cry.
The doors opened on my floor, and Doug was standing there with his wife, stunned at my unkempt appearance. I nodded in greeting, sniffling and wiping away the tears at the corners of my eyes.
"Olivia, are you okay?" Doug asked slowly.
I nodded again. "I'll be fine. Doug, I think I need to go home for good."
"There's still a week of shooting left," Doug said. "You're under contract." To his credit, he did look sorry.
"Is there a way for me to not be on set for the next week, then?" I sniffled pathetically.
Doug surveyed my face, studying. "You know what, I think we can do without you. Go home. Recharge. Write more books and make me more money." He winked at me.
I slumped, relieved. "Thank you so much, Doug, I needed this."
"You're welcome. Olivia?" he asked softly.
"Yes?"
"This is why it's not advised to get involved with actors." He gave me a knowing look and ushered his sympathetic wife into the elevator while I exited.
I nodded as I went to my room to pack. That was a lesson I'd learned the hard way.