Hilary Duff & Haylie Duff - Sex Stories

Hilary Duff & Haylie Duff

... he just watched her walk away. She stepped out, letting the door close behind her. The next morning Hilary dressed in a pair of tight fitting jeans with a torn knee, a white tank top, and black leather jacket. She did her hair back in a pony tail, and slipped on a pair of leather boots. She made her way across the hall to the guest room. She knocked gently on the door. “Ya?” Conrad called back. Hilary opened the door, and leaned on the frame. Mackenzie was sitting up looking over at her as she appeared in the doorway. “Just… um…. Checking in.” She waited for him to say something, but he just gazed over at her. “Um. Do you want to go somewhere for breakfast? My treat.” “I don’t think you and I would breakfast at the same places.” Hilary squeezed the bridge of her nose and let out a slow frustrated groan. She looked up at the house guest, and barked at him. “I’m not some sort of princess you know. I’ve been broke before. I don’t sl**p on a stack of mattresses, I had to wait ’till I was sixteen to get my drivers. I’m just a person. Like you. I just don’t ‘tend towards trouble’.” Conrad rose to his feet, and crossed the room to the frustrated woman. He looked down at her, and she glared coldly at him. A slight grin came to his face, and she almost lost her glare completely at his surprising grin. “So Denny’s isn’t outside your realm of dinning experiences?” Hilary stared up at the man’s deep dark eyes. She gave a shrug, and slowly ran her hands down into her back pockets. “Ya. ...

... Denny’s will be great.” On the way over, it was a silent ride for the first little while. Hilary apologized that his clothes weren’t cleaned yet, but he told her to relax. It was L.A. There were people out there dressed more unusually than a guy in sweat pants, and a crappy old shirt. After a while, Lone could tell Duff wasn’t sitting very comfortably. “You can talk about yourself.” He announced. The blond driver glanced over at him curiously as she weaved through early morning L.A. traffic. “I don’t talk about me much. I don’t really even talk much. But you can yak all you want. Long as there’s a point of some sort to it. Besides. You have a nice voice.” “Why Conrad Lone, I think you just paid me a complement.” Hilary laughed. “I’m sure it’s not much of one compared to what you’re used to.” Hilary talked through most of breakfast. She tried to split the conversation between them by asking more about some of his cuts and wounds, but he always managed to get the beautiful woman talking about herself again. Soon enough breakfast was over, and they were on their way, only having to stop their meal once or twice so she could sign an autograph from the odd customer that recognized her. They headed back to her black SUV, and were about to drive away, when a car came screaming around in front of them. The car stopped in front of them, and the driver jumped out and began taking pictures as he ran up to the black Blazer. “Fuck. I hate this guy. He has no idea on limits. He fucking ...