The Close-Up (Hollywood Renaissance #1.5) Read Online Kennedy Ryan

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Novella, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Hollywood Renaissance Series by Kennedy Ryan
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
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“They probably just want to make sure I’m not a ball bunny, or whatever you guys call those women who wait in the tunnel offering you ass after games.” I nudge him with my shoulder while the bartender prepares my drink.

“Ball bunnies?” He lifts both brows.

“Oh, please. A man fine as you? I’m sure you get your share.”

“You think I’m attractive?”

I tip up to whisper in his ear, “Would my panties be in your pocket if I didn’t?”

“Here you go,” the bartender says, offering me an amber-colored drink before Naz has the chance to respond with anything other than a heated stare.

“This is delicious,” I say after a sip. “What is it?”

“It’s a Genoa.” He offers Naz one, too. “Mediterranean drink in honor of our journey. Gin, grappa, sambuca, dry vermouth with an olive. Glad you like it.”

“You guys keeping all the good liquor to yourselves?” Kenya asks, rising from the dining room table.

She looks like a softer version of Kenan, tall and lean with locs hanging past her shoulders. She and Jade are newlyweds and have been stuck to each other’s sides all night. It’s sweet how they’re even now holding hands…with twined fingers!

“You’ve had enough,” Jade mumbles as they cross the room to us. “You know how your ass gets.”

“Once! You cry once after a bottle of tequila,” Kenya laughs. “And your wife never lets you live it down.”

“Nah.” Jade runs a hand over her neat cornrows. “It’s also that jet lag I’m worried about. Gin and jet lag—not a good look for you.”

“What we need is some fresh air,” Kenya says. “It’ll clear my head. Everybody’s up on deck. You guys coming?”

The look Naz rolls over me is molten, and even my fast tail feels self-conscious under it.

“I think they want to be alone,” Kenya says, her voice sing-song and teasing.

“No, we’ll come,” I say, quirking one brow in challenge. He thought he could edge me? See how he likes being put on hold.

“Sure,” Naz agrees instantly, mocking me with a toast of his Genoa.

When we get up to the deck, I’m glad we came. The whole group is up here, and the lights strung along the ship glow, casting a romantic spell over everyone. With the breeze whipping dresses and hair and cooling heated cheeks, we all line up at the rail and lean into the sea spray. Under moonlight, we sip our drinks, weaving in and out of conversations with each other and with our partners. It’s a perfect evening, but like Jada suggested, jet lag starts kicking in, and after an hour, I slump my back against Naz’s wide chest, barely able to stand.

“You’re tired,” he whispers, his lips brushing the sensitive skin at my throat.

“Maybe a little bit,” I sleep-slur, clutching the powerful forearms wrapped around my waist.

“Hey, guys,” he calls to his friends—some still at the rail, some lying on the lounge chairs together by now. "This one’s exhausted and jet lagged. I’mma take her to her room.”

“See you tomorrow,” Iris says, standing and crossing over to us. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

“Yeah.” Lo walks up beside us, tugging Kenan behind her. “Next time, you come and leave Naz at home.”

“Whatever,” Naz says, shaking his head. “We out.”

We board the elevator to take us to the lower deck where our cabins are located. I lean against one wall, and he leans against the other, watching me, unsmiling. My heart picks up speed at the intensity of his stare. When the elevator dings, signaling we’ve reached our floor, he pulls my panties out of his pocket and holds them up. “You have to answer for these.”

“What?”

“You think you can keep me hard all night without some form of retribution?”

“I don’t—”

The elevator doors open, and he gently pushes me through them and into the small waiting area.

“Run,” he says, that predator’s glaze over his eyes.

It takes half a second for my flight instinct to kick in. I take off down the corridor, glad I’ve been wearing heels my whole life, and I run in them as easily as I do barefoot.

“Naz!” I screech, laughing, adrenaline pumping as his heavy footsteps gain on me. I know it’s a game, but the heat I just saw in his eyes, the erection tenting his pants—they send danger signals to my nervous system. Even if the only danger I’m in is of getting fucked all night.

I round the corner, my room in view, when one stone-hard arm encircles my waist and snatches me up. I’m five nine and thick with it. It’s not often I’m “snatched up” like I weigh nothing, but he literally carries me under his arm, and my legs dangle in the air.

“Got you,” he murmurs, slowly lowering me to the floor and pressing my front to the door. “Open it.”

His heat at my back, his dick pressing into me, his breath in my hair. It’s so much, I mis-enter the code for the door three times before it swings open. The bedside lamp casts a faint glow over the room. The bed has been turned down, and it invites me to lower my weary body onto the cool sheets.


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