Free The Hotel 3 (The Billionaire Seduction) by Lola Darling Page A

stand still for too long.
A twinge in my muscles that makes me want to move, to find some
action. Luckily I know all the right places to find it.
    I step out of the shower and towel myself off as I walk into the
bedroom, grabbing the beer I left on the desk and downing all of it.
It’ll take a lot more than beer to cool off the energy that’s
gathering momentum inside of me though. There’s a song with a
slow beat and a growling guitar playing, and the dusty light of a
dying LA sun highlighting parts of my room through the blinds. I grab
my phone as I settle on the edge of the bed and spin through the
contacts.
    I pause before hitting dial on a friend. I could dress sharp and head
out to the bars of Los Angeles, get plenty drunk, and see where my
instincts lead me – most likely my place or hers – but
that’s not what I want tonight. I love the thrill of the chase,
but I’m ready for action right now.
    Then there’s ‘Hot Ass,’ ‘Kinky Blonde,’
‘Finger Sucker,’ ‘Leggy Redhead,’ and all the
other girls with talents memorable enough to give them a special
place in my contacts, but even that won’t cut it.
    Tonight I want something dirty. Something new. Something a little
dangerous. My body’s thirsting for a new taste.
    I walk through the long hallway and down the staircase that runs to
the gigantic den of the mansion, big and empty but for the expensive
toys and random beer bottles lying around. I open the BootyCall app
on my phone and it presents me with a big green button, the word
‘chat’ written across it like a big understatement. I
swipe it with my thumb and hold the phone to my ear.
    “Hey,” comes a dark, husky voice on the other end. Now
this is more like it. I pour myself some of the whiskey I keep on the
coffee table and stretch out on the couch.
    “Hello there.”
    “So. What you looking for?” she says, making it clear
what she’s looking for herself.
    “I’m not sure. But I’ll know when I find it.”
    She laughs, and it sounds like she’s making love to the phone.
    “I like your accent,” she says. “Where you from?”
    “I’m Irish.”
    “Ooh,” she coos appreciatively. “You got money?”
    It’s not my favorite question, but hey, this is Hollywood after
all. If I didn’t fuck girls who said stuff like this I’d
be a monk here.
    “Yeah,” I say, smiling, “I’m fucking loaded.
You got a nice rack? Since we’re asking personal questions and
all.”
    “Thirty-four double-dees. As good as money can buy.”
    Again, it’s a weird turn of phrase, but I’ve heard worse.
    “So what are you offering?” I ask.
    She laughs a little, and I can hear her tongue rolling around her
lips as she does so. The combination of a husky voice and my
imagination is pretty cock-pulling, and I’m pressing the cold
whiskey glass against my boxers to keep my dick from bursting out
like something in a monster movie.
    “I’m offering a whole night of the dirtiest, nastiest
stuff you could ever imagine,” she says, breathing into each
word like her body’s so hot even she can’t handle it. My
imagination is running wild. “We can do it slow…or we
can do it fast…I’ll be like hot chocolate in your
mouth…”
    “How can I refuse…”
    “…for only three grand.”
    A cold shower could not have crippled my hard-on more. “What?!
Are you fucking kidding me?”
    Her voice is all innocence now. “What’s the matter,
honey?”
    “I thought this was a hook-up app, not a hooker app.”
That’s one thing I don’t do.
    She giggles. “It’s worth it, sugar. If I like you, I’ll
even give you a discount.”
    “Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. Paying for sex kinda kills it for
me, you know? Good luck.”
    I cancel the call and let it show me the big ‘chat’
button again. I take a healthy swig of the whiskey in my glass and
decide to give it one more go.
    I push the big button, bringing the phone to my ear. Someone picks up
on the other end, but for a few moments all I hear