Over Exposed

A Salon Games Novel | Book Three

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OverExposed.jpg

When the cameras are off, the real action begins.
 
Greg Hicks is a Hollywood power player. For years he’s enjoyed the perks that come with being a top director and producer: the influence, the wealth…the women. But none of his many conquests have ever possessed the incredible sensuality of the young woman he once watched lose all inhibition in front of his camera.

Sabrina Rodriquez’s life is far from a Hollywood dream. Refusing to make the same mistakes as her unlucky-in-love mother, she’s focused on her first real job and avoiding all distractions, especially those of the male variety. Yet a man as compelling as Greg is difficult to ignore. And the desires he awakens are even harder to quench.

While a winter storm rages, a night at Haven Retreat leaves Sabrina’s and Greg’s temperatures rising. As Greg introduces Sabrina to the pleasures of voyeurism and exhibition, she unleashes his most decadent passions—and his creativity. But having Sabrina as a muse isn’t enough. He wants her to take a starring role in his bed…and in his heart.

 

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“You sonuvabitch. What the hell were you thinking?”

“Hello to you, too.”

Greg Hicks shoved a hand through his hair, ready to tear the shaggy curls out by the roots. He hadn’t gotten the damn mess cut in weeks and it was bugging the shit out of him.

But not as much as the woman downstairs.

“Tyler, I swear, if you don’t get her the hell out of here and right fucking now, I’m gonna do exactly what you want me to do. And Kate’s gonna fucking hate me when I break that kid’s heart.”

“I take it Sabrina got to the spa. She said it wasn’t snowing there as badly as it is down here. And wow, that ego of yours is still amazingly huge, isn’t it?”

“Jesus Christ, Ty. I’m more than halfway into my second bottle of whiskey. I can barely see straight. And . . .”

Shit. He wasn’t drunk enough.

Because he was still sober enough to look at Sabrina Rodriquez and want her so bad, his balls hurt and his dick was hard enough to hammer nails.

“And that’s why you need a goddamn keeper. I know you, Greg. If you don’t have someone up there to cook for you, you’ll starve.”

“I’m thirty-six fucking years old, Tyler. I think I can take care of myself for another few days.”

“No way. Our deal was I let you stay at the retreat for two weeks so you can finish your damn screenplay, but you agreed to have a keeper. When Mrs. Banks asked me to replace her, Sabrina was available on short notice and close enough that the storm wouldn’t delay her arrival. And she actually volunteered, so you will damn well not treat her like shit.”

Fucking hell. “Shit.”

Tyler Golden paused. Then Greg heard him sigh. Loudly.

“Greg, what the hell’s going on with you?”

Greg heard the concern in Ty’s voice but he didn’t have the words. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Ty’s voice smacked at him through the phone. “You’re insulting my intelligence. You don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. But don’t lie to me. And you’d better get your shit together because if you do anything to hurt Sabrina, Kate will be all over your ass, and not in a good way.”

Fuck.

Greg took a deep breath and released it, staring out into the hall.

Five minutes ago, Sabrina had walked through the front door of the not-yet-open Haven Retreat outside of Adamstown, Pennsylvania.

Far enough away from civilization to make it the perfect place to hide.

Which was exactly what he was doing.

She’d called out to announce her presence, and he’d thought for a minute he’d finally passed out and was dreaming. He hadn’t been sleeping well, which explained the liquid medication. If he drank enough, he knew he’d finally be able to get some rest.

Which was a slippery slope. He’d seen more than his fair share of friends and acquaintances fall off that slope. He’d always managed to stay just on the edge.

“Hello? Mr. Hicks? Are you here? It’s Sabrina Rodriquez. I work for the Goldens. I’m here to take ca—ah, I’m here to help.”

Fuck.

“Greg.”

When he didn’t answer, he heard Tyler swear under his breath.

“I’ll call her and tell her you don’t need her. I’ll find—”

“No.” Shit, that wasn’t what he should be saying, but he couldn’t stop now. “No, it’s fine. It’s snowing pretty hard up here now so she’s not going anywhere ’til morning. Why the hell is it snowing the first week in November anyway?”

“Well, damn, let me just get Mother Nature on the line for you and you can bitch at her. Seriously, Greg, what the fuck is going on with you? Are you okay?”

No, he wasn’t. He was pretty sure he was losing it. “It” being everything from his sanity to his production company and, if he wasn’t careful, the few true friends he had.

But that’s what this time away was about. Getting his shit together and finishing the screenplay for the film that would make him love the business again.

“Hello?”

Sabrina’s voice again, closer this time. She must be on her way up the stairs to the second floor, where he’d holed up in one of the rooms.

“I’m fine,” he said to Tyler.

 

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