Epilogue
EPILOGUE
EFFIE
Effie Bird won three Grammy Awards last night including Album of the Year for Nightowl Recordings, Song of the Year for lead single “Next Chapter Of Us,” and Best Music Video for the same song (which Bird wrote and directed), bringing her total Grammy wins to thirteen. The popstar, who before yesterday’s event had famously never walked a red carpet with a romantic partner, held hands and traded subtle smooches with Brett Blue, former bassist of grunge act Hoax and winner of last night’s Producer of the Year Grammy Award—his first nomination in the category—for his work on Nightowl Recordings. Bird recorded the collection completely on site at Blue’s Nightowl Studios in northern Michigan. We, for one, love seeing BlueBird dazzling on the red carpet!
Effie laughed and tossed the phone across the couch after reading another social media write-up. “We look really freaking good in those photos.”
After the after party, Effie and Brett boarded her jet back to New York City. They snuggled on the couch, their gilded awards lined up on the coffee table reflected the sunlight. As the early afternoon sun poured into her story-high windows, they lounged in their comfy clothes, checking press feeds for award show coverage. Effie still hadn’t slept and kept glancing at her bloodstain-inspired gown draped over the opposite lounge chair, glittering in the sunlight.
“Last night really happened?” Brett asked, running a hand over his bearded chin.
“It really happened, honey.” Effie stretched up to give him a smooch on his cheek. “I’m not even tired. I think I’m running only on adrenaline and a little too much Mo?t.”
“How should we celebrate?” he mused, stretching an arm over her shoulder.
“We haven’t celebrated enough?” Effie’s eyelids fluttered shut as she breathed it all in.
It had been a fantastic night. Following her record shattering wins, Effie, Brett, Shay, and the rest of their teams shuttled over to the after party. The strictly no photos or cellphones event included endless champagne, a delectable menu curated by world-renowned chefs, aerialists twirling overhead, and DJs spinning until the early hours of the morning.
But Effie, in truth, missed Jewel and Nightowl Studios. “When do we get to go home?” she whispered, lacing her fingers with Brett’s.
“Home, huh?” Brett mused, pulling her even closer. Their joined hands hung close to her breast, his fingertips tickling her through the soft top.
“Yes,” she said, turning her eyes up to meet his. “I miss our little homestead.”
“Soon, princess,” he said, pulling her into his lap. He cradled her close and Effie thought she felt at home anywhere with this man.
Brett kissed her cheek. She nuzzled into his warmth, the soft scratchiness of his beard. “I can think of one more way we can celebrate,” he whispered against her skin.
“Oh?” She wiggled her hips into his lap, immediately catching his implication.
“If you’re up for it,” Brett continued, smooching a line of kisses along her jaw until catching her lips.
“The perfect way to end a night like this,” she said before deepening the kiss.
“Have you ever had sex in your isolation booth?” he asked, their mouths still pushed together.
“Oh,” Effie laughed, pulling back. “Feeling adventurous, Brett?”
He shrugged. “We’ve done it on just about every other surface in your place. Seems only fair to christen it like we did Nightowl.”
It was nothing like Brett’s studio, but it was perfect for when inspiration struck in the middle of the night, and she needed to get a melody or some lyrics down. It was where she recorded the sweetbitter guitar parts.
“Can’t argue with that logic,” Effie said.
In one fluid motion, Brett stood, cradling Effie close to him. “Oh my god, Brett, don’t hurt yourself,” she squealed.
“Are you calling me old, princess?” He growled, kissing back down her neck.
“Never!” Effie cackled as Brett carried her across the penthouse.
With one foot and an elbow, Brett knocked open the booth’s smoky glass door. “I’m going to take you right up against the glass,” he said gruffly, putting Effie gently down on her feet.
“Sounds fun,” she giggled as Brett slowly undid each button of her top before pushing it off her shoulders.
Effie dropped her pants off her hips and stood absolutely naked in front of him. Her nipples pebbled from the sudden chill and the thrill of the growing bulge under his slacks.
“You next,” she purred, stepping closer and pulling his shirt over his head.
Brett’s hands came to rest at the curve of her hips, kneading into the softness there. “I meant what I said during my speech, you know,” he said, his breath hitting her clavicle and making her shiver. In the padded booth, his smoky voice took on a smoother, deeper quality. “It’s been an honor working with you, princess, and I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“I know you are.” She smiled, as her fingers undid his pants. “I’m proud of you, too.”
His crooked grin melted her heart, making her gooey in his arms before he kissed her again, his pants down around his ankles.
“I’m needy for you, Brett,” she whispered, breaking their kiss to run her hands down his chest. When she got to the cut in his hips, she traced the lines there down to his cock, which was hardening by the second.
“You make me so hard, princess,” he moaned, stepping out of his pants and caressing her breasts as she stroked him.
“Please,” Effie breathed, his hand dipping between her legs.
“Already so wet for me, honey.”
She whimpered as he explored her folds, caressing her most sensitive spots. In the next moment, he flipped her around toward the door, her breasts pressing against the cool glass. Instead, he fingered her from behind, reaching new angles from a moment before. Her legs shuddered underneath her.
“Think you’re ready for my cock, princess?” He growled into her ear, breath hot on her neck.
“Use me, Brett,” she moaned, desperate and aching to be filled.
He kicked her legs wider and notched his head at her opening, grabbing onto her hips before slamming all the way home.
Effie screamed his name, braced against the glass.
“That’s my girl,” he said from behind, through gritted teeth.
Brett rode her hard and fast, with deep thrusts that inched her closer to the edge, grunting as he bottomed out inside her. “You feel so fucking good,” he purred, tracing one hand up her spine and tangling his fingers in her hair.
With one tug, he pulled her hair, making her arch back into him. His other hand traveled to her throat, holding her there, gently, but tightening just enough to remind her who exactly she belonged to.
“You’re mine, princess,” he breathed in her ear as she tightened around him.
“I’m yours,” she moaned, as her orgasm flooded her system, making her body weak. Brett held her up as she fell limp in his hands, and he finished his thrusts to his own completion.
Effie couldn’t even stand on her own, so Brett cradled her to his chest once more. With their mixed come dripping between her thighs, she clung to him, exhausted. After cleaning up, he tucked her into their bed, pressing the button to close the electric shutters to block out the morning sun.
“Thank you, Brett, for being my peace,” Effie murmured as he curled around her under the silky sheets.
“Always, princess,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her temple.
She hummed her agreement and they both fell into a deep, contented sleep.
THE END