He leaves, and I’ll ask about him later. But not now because, finally—fucking finally—I can get Bellamy out of here.
Or maybe not, because as I scan the empty theater, a dirty idea demands attention.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she says playfully, sliding up against me, fingers tap-dancing on my chest.
“That’s not hard to guess,” I say.
Her hand doubles back the other way, down to squeeze my bulge. “It is hard, though.”
“Sweetheart, that’s a given with you.”
“Good. Keep it up.”
My gaze drifts to her hand. “If you keep that up, so will I.”
“Sounds like a deal.”
A quick glance around tells me we’re alone, and I’m tempted, so damn tempted. “Is this why you asked me to meet you here when your podcast ended? To get me all alone and have your wicked way with me?”
“No, I do have some wicked plans. But I wanted to see you because I have something to ask you.” She lets go of me, her expression turning less playful, more vulnerable.
“Ask me anything.”
She lifts her chin, smiles warmly. “Will you take me home tonight?”
I only have one word for her, and it fills me with joy to say it: “Yes.”
But once we’re there, it turns out she has other questions too.
47
All Paid Up
One of her questions, I answer in bed.
“Yes, I’ll fuck you hard,” I say as I slide into her.
She moans gorgeously, a throaty, sensual sound as she curls her hands over my shoulders, gripping me. “And will you give it to me good?”
Swiveling my hips, I slide almost all the way out, pausing for a tantalizing few seconds before I plunge in. “This good enough for you?”
The answer comes in a sexy gasp as she stretches her neck, exposing all that gorgeous flesh for kissing. I heed the call, licking and sucking her honeysuckle skin as I move in her, going deeper.
Her hands slide into my hair, and she weaves her fingers through the strands, holding tight as she moans and murmurs, “So good. But it’d be better . . . like this.”
With the finesse of a dancer and the speed of the horny, she hooks her feet on my shoulders.
Yes. Fucking yes.
I drive deep into her. A high-voltage charge sparks in my body. I’m not far off, but I am determined to make everything so damn good for her.
Listening to her cues, reading her body, I keep a pace that drives her wild, that makes her writhe. Her face twists with agony, with the relentless chase of pleasure. When her eyes flicker open, those brown irises flash with passion, heat, and everything I didn’t know I could handle.
But now I know I can, and I want it all—this real love.
And as she whispers my name in a sultry, beautiful voice, I can’t fight the outcome any longer. Good thing she’s right there with me as we come together.
Later, we’re both boneless . . . laughing . . . happy. I drop a kiss onto her cheek. “Will you fuck me hard? Was that really the question you had for me?”
She shakes her head. “My real question is this.” She shifts to prop herself onto an elbow, head in her hand. “Will you be mine?”
And the answer is . . .
“Yes.”
In the morning, I reach for the door, ready to take off. Bellamy glides up to me, kisses my jawline, then my nose, then my lips. “By the way, you were wrong about something.”
“Me? Wrong? Hard to imagine.”
“I hear it happens now and then,” she says saucily.
“Do tell.”
With a grin, she grabs my shirt. “I love both plays and musicals equally.”
“But I was right about Hemingway, wasn’t I?”
She rolls her eyes. “Like that was a real puzzler.”
I laugh, then grab her hip and haul her close. “I love you.”
“And I love you. And I especially love that you came to my podcast and professed it on air,” she says.
“I always make good on my bets.”
“That’s not why I liked it,” she says, turning more serious.
“Why did you like it?”
“Because . . . I love love.” She spreads her hand over my heart. “And that’s what you gave me last night.”
That heart thunders under her palm, and I give her the kind of kiss she deserves. When we separate, I think back to last night one more time. “By the way, who was that guy Monroe? Someone you work with?”
She laughs lightly. “He’s in the same biz. The romance biz. Have you heard of Doctor Romance?”
“No, but that’s a great name.”
“That’s Monroe. He’s sort of an underground romance . . . guru.” She brings a finger to her lips. “But keep it quiet. He’s kind of a secret, but he has a long list of clients who swear by his services. If they’re lucky enough to get on his roster.”
“Like you need a secret handshake?”
“Exactly. I’m pretty sure he has quite a story to tell.”