I gasp as he presses me harder against the wall, gazing down at me with heat-filled eyes. “You ready?” he growled.
“Oh yes,” I moan. “More than ready.”
He sucks on my nipple and bites down, pushing into me hard. I scream out and dig my nails in his back as he fucks me against the wall. The harder he licks and sucks my nipples, the tighter I clench around him.
“Hold me tighter,” he commands.
I do as he says and wrap my legs tighter around his waist. He lets go of my ass and leans against the wall so he can push harder. It takes things to a whole different level. Every square inch of my body is on fire.
“Does that feel better, baby?” he asks between thrusts.
Moaning, I nod quickly. “You . . . have . . . no . . . idea.”
Rocking his hips more vigorously, I counter his motions and move my body along with his. I’m so close to losing control and I can tell he is too. Brennan bites down on my neck and it’s my undoing. I scream out my orgasm at the same time he comes inside me. That’s the one thing I love about Brennan. He always used to make sure I was satisfied before he ever got his. Not many men were like that, definitely not my ex-husband.
Brennan holds me against the shower wall, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths. My body still shook from post orgasmic bliss. “Can I let you down now?” Brennan asks, chuckling softly.
I nod and he sets me down. My knees feel weak, but he’s there to steady me. “That was amazing,” I breathe.
He cups my face in his hands. “Yes, it was.”
I don’t know how much time has passed, but I know it’s time for him to go. “Finish your shower and I’ll grab your clothes,” I say, trying to smile. “We don’t want you missing your flight.” That’s a total lie.
Brennan nods and I hop out of the shower. My bath robe is hanging on the back of the bathroom door, so I grab it and slip it on. By the time I walk into the living room to fetch Brennan’s clean clothes and head back to the bathroom, he’s already out and drying off. I hand him his clothes and head right back to the living room so he can get dressed.
I look out the window at the harbor and I can see his reflection in the glass when he steps into the room. “I have to go, Nat.”
Taking a deep breath, I turn around and smile even though my heart hurts. “Be safe in Cali. Don’t get into too much trouble.” In his hands is my grumpy cat T-shirt. I honestly didn’t think he’d take it with him, but it makes me feel good to know he’ll have it.
He opens his arms and I melt against him. “I’ll call you, okay?”
Will he? Once he goes back to his fabulous life, he’ll forget all about me. “Sounds good,” I murmur, breathing him in one last time.
He squeezes me hard and let’s go. I walk him to the door, and he opens it, but before he walks out, he turns to give me a kiss. Our lips touch and I can tell neither one of us wants to let go. I pull back first and rest my forehead against his.
“I had a good time, Brennan. It was great seeing you again.”
His eyes meet mine. “Same. You’re still as beautiful as ever.”
Turning on his heel, he walks out the door and stops at the elevator. He presses the button and when the doors open, he looks at me one more time and waves. I wave back and watch him disappear inside. One thing is definitely for sure … it’s one New Year’s I’m never going to forget.
The second hand on the clock slowly ticks by. The sound it makes echoes in the studio. Tick, tick, tick . . . it’s all I can focus on. On the other side of the glass, the producer of my next album and the audio guy are in a heated discussion. By heated, I mean they’re pointing at each other angrily while I sit on a stool and wait for someone to tell me what the hell I’m doing. It probably doesn’t help that I’m being an epic shit about the song and keep changing the lyrics. It’s not mine. I didn’t write it and I don’t care for it, but some up and coming—their words—not mine, niece to an executive producer wrote the song and it sounds more like a teeny bopper, bubble gum popping, love song for middle schoolers. Definitely not the sound or feel I’m going for. The audio guy knows this and keep trying to arrange something a bit grittier, something more me.