CHAPTER THREE #4
“It feels good,” I allowed, voice breathy.
“Yeah.” He laughed, looking up at me. In all honesty, he did smell damn good. The scent of fresh sweat on his skin got me high. All of the heat and hardness of him, centered in on me, was arousing as hell.
With no further words, gaze locked on mine, he proceeded to nail me to the fridge.
His pupils were dilated, the expression on his face determined.
Hips working hard, his dick embedding itself deep inside me with each and every thrust. I’d have bruises tomorrow from the hard grip of his hands. Just how I liked.
And while he might have been trying to prove something, his excitement and vigor was his undoing.
With his pelvis working against me, his whole body taut, he growled and came.
God, I loved that, feeling his cock jerk inside of me.
The way his whole body responded when he came.
Eyelids slammed shut, he ground himself against me, finishing with his face hidden in my neck, something he’d done since the first time we were together.
Like it was too much, too revealing, too… everything.
“I’m sorry,” he eventually said when he’d gotten his breath back.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I wanted to make you come again. Instead I lost it like a goddamn kid.”
“You can make me come again later. I’m a giver like that.
” I chuckled, threading my hands through his hair.
Talk about proprietorial. Truth was, once I started touching him, it was damn hard to stop.
I ran my fingers over his shoulders, down the length of his spine—or as far as I could reach.
Did it need to be mentioned that there wasn’t an inch of him I didn’t want to touch?
Not that it was a big deal or anything. So I might have been behaving in a slightly clingy fashion for a moment, it was just the old post-coital bliss haze.
Memories making me maudlin and romantic or something.
The allure of feeling close to someone. And I did feel close to him.
Scarily so. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Right,” he said. As if I was made of spun glass, he set my feet gently on the floor.
Next, he put himself away and pulled up his jeans.
His mouth opened, but for the longest time, no words came out.
“There’s some um better shampoo and stuff in the cabinet under the sink if you want to have a bath or a shower or… you know.”
“There is, huh?”
A nod.
With much awkwardness, we both stood there staring at each other. At the floor. At a wall. It was all greatly fascinating and not a form of avoidance at all. I crossed my hands over my breasts. So stupid given I remained buck-ass naked in my ex’s apartment after just having sex.
“Can I come?” he asked.
“You just did.”
“I meant can I accompany you to the bathroom or do you want some space?”
In days of yore, we had indeed showered together often after conjugal bliss.
And despite it not necessarily feeling like a good idea, us spending more one-on-one time together without our clothes and all, I couldn’t actually think of the right way to say as much in the allotted time. “Sure. That’s fine. Whatever.”
He gave me a look most dubious. But when I about-faced and headed in the direction of the bathroom, he did indeed follow.
I could totally feel his eyes on my ass, too.
He followed me all the way to the door, where he abruptly halted.
“I’ll give you your space. You need anything, I’ll just be out here. ”
“Alright.”
“Use whatever you want. Make yourself at home.”
I nodded.
“I know this is weird. But I want it to be a good weird.”
I had no idea what to say to that. Actually, that was a lie. “Was that belated break-up sex?”
“I honestly have no idea.” His expression was calm, face relaxed as he seemed to think it over. “Maybe?”
“Right. Okay.” And with a little finger wave, I shut the door in his face.
A wise woman who learned from her past mistakes would have been out the door pronto.
I apparently was not a wise woman. Because instead of getting my heart and ass a safe distance away, say the other side of the city, once I’d tidied myself up and let him take his turn in the bathroom, I located his broom and dustpan and brush and cleaned up the hair clippings.
So I was a little OCD when it came to messes.
Might have been why he drove me nuts in the first place.
Though his apartment was certainly neat enough now.
At any rate, I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.
But me departing sometime soon would definitely be for the best. Before things got even more confusing.
Since my head was already dizzy with facts and feelings, it was hard to see how things could get more confusing. But, anyway.
Which was about when my cell went crazy. Texts and notifications lit up my screen. The first few were from close friends, followed by a few randoms from my past. All of them should have been in bed at this hour. Though it was Saturday night/Sunday morning.
“What’s going on?” Adam asked, wandering out of the bedroom in a fresh pair of black jeans and a t-shirt.
Freshly washed and wet hair hung down over his shoulders.
The harried, haggard shadows around his eyes and face from earlier in the evening had disappeared almost completely.
Sexual healing, presumably. It was irritating how easy he made looking like a walking, talking dream seem.
He’d been made for gracing billboards and magazine covers, really.
Also, he smelled magnificent after his shower.
It was a real test of my strength not to stick my nose in his neck again. Sad but true.
I sat on the couch with my feet tucked up underneath me, trying to get a grip on the goings-on of the internet. Stunned was a good word. Followed quickly by baffled. “Someone identified me from the pictures taken downstairs.”
“Shit.” Any happy or calm disappeared from his face. “I’m sorry, Jill.”
“I-it’s okay.”
He tipped his chin. “That didn’t sound believable at all.”
“What can I say?” I asked. “You’re famous.
Living in denial about it hasn’t gotten me far.
I guess I’ll have to learn to deal with it.
It’s just that the songs were mostly you being a big deal from afar.
These photos are…different. Oh good, they grabbed some shots off social media of me.
Because I look amazing with my mouth open mid-sentence and my eyes half-closed.
I told Ana not to post that photo. Ugh.”
He sat down next to me, stretching his arms across the back of the couch.
I slid my finger across the screen, scrolling through the most hastily put-together nonsense article I’d ever seen in my life. “You’re being painted as the hero. You valiantly came to my rescue after I had a meltdown due to our breakup. So, this is good press for you.”
“Except that we broke up a year ago.”
“Yeah. Wow. I sound so fragile and pathetic.”
A grunt from him.
“I mean, they’re not completely wrong. I was upset because of you. However, no mental breakdown is currently occurring as far as I’m aware. You’re off the hook there.”
His brows drew in tight. “Not sure if I should apologize again or what.”
“Oh excellent, some commenters believe I’m a money-hungry ho. Little do they know, huh?”
“Fuck’s sake. Don’t read the comments. Rule number one in dealing with the internet: never let that crap take up room inside your skull. It leads to nowhere good.”
“Oh, wait! Now they’re hoping that I’ll sex you and leave you again, resulting in another great album.” My laughter was a brittle broken thing. “I’m so glad our emotional trauma entertains them.”
Adam said a whole lot of nothing and scratched at his jawline.
“At least she’s trying to put a positive spin on things, I guess.” I scrolled on. “This guy says I’m a toxic bitch while he’d make you happy and treat you right. Might want to reach out for his number.”
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” I looked up to find Adam wearing a pained if patient expression. “What?”
“Put the cell down.”
I slowly did as I was told. That he’d called me baby would be ignored in totality.
“These are complete strangers casting judgement on shit they know nothing about,” he said. “They don’t know you or me. They don’t know anything about us, okay?”
My fingers fidgeted in my lap, picking at my cuticles, a sure sign of nerves. “I’ve never made headlines before.”
“Yeah. Well…unfortunately it’s a side effect of getting to play my music.” He sighed. “Since it’s making news, they’ll probably hang outside for a while, hoping to get another shot. Might be best if you stayed here for a bit…”
“Maybe.”
“Thanks for cleaning up after the haircut.” He reached out, sliding his hand over mine. I needed the contact more than I was willing to admit. Instant internet infamy was kind of nerve-wracking. His skin was so warm. The calluses on his fingers were so familiar. “I would have done it.”
“Not a big deal.” I shrugged, letting him hold my hand. Because I was a damn fool. “So what do you want to do? Watch TV, play guitar, do some gaming, have another nap, what?”
“Whatever you want. I’m just happy you’re here.”
“Adam…”
“Am I not supposed to say that?” he asked, shuffling closer. “Martha has one rule.”
“Wait. Martha? Your manager?”
“That’s right. If she works her ass off to give me an opportunity, then I’m not allowed to waste it.”
Oh, boy. “Ha.”
“This is me not wasting my chance with you.”
“I wouldn’t say the woman worked her ass off to get me into your car. I was willing—to a certain degree. Also, this is about you and me and doesn’t involve your manager. Stop looking at me that way.”
“What way?”
“Adam,” I growled.
“You know, I’d kind of forgotten how good we were together.”
“Had you now?”
“Figured I was just putting a shine on old memories or something,” he said, moving a little closer.
“Or that I was gauging the strength of the relationship off the heartache when you left, instead of really remembering what it was like when we were together. But being inside of you is sweet perfection.”
“Stop it. We’re not…let’s not talk about the sex.”
“Okay. Let’s talk about you being here then. About us spending time together.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Adam, you hated talking about our relationship and now that we don’t even have one, you want to discuss things?”
The side of his lip curled up in a beguiling half-smile. “Sure. Why not?”
“I think my brain is about to explode.”
“You know, not all of those internet comments should be ignored.”
“Hmm?” I cocked my head, both bewildered and way overstimulated.
“Break my heart again, Jill.” His sweet sexy smile made my heart hurt. Damn the man. “C’mon. I dare you.”