Dex groans, and he slides a hand up into my hair, tightening it in his fist. He kisses me deep and hard, his hips flexing up off of the couch, each strong thrust rubbing against my wet heat.
“Please,” I whisper into his neck, bucking forward as he licks and bites his way across my throat. “More.”
“Fuck, Al.”
Dex hooks his arm around my waist and flips me onto my back, his hard body resting on top of mine.
Yes. He feels so good, his sinewy muscles flexing under my hands.
“Off.” He pushes up my tank, ripping it over my head when I arch up for him. My hands skate down his smooth back, shoving at the waistband of his pants. Dex quickly gets to his knees and pushes them down, shimmying each leg out until he’s gloriously naked. My eyes drop to his thick arousal. I lick my lips at the thought of tasting him.
“I know what you’re thinking, and I love it. But right now, I want to be buried deep inside you.”
He grips my shorts, yanking them off and throwing them to the side. Dex crawls up my body, stopping to make small swipes of his tongue along the way. By the time he reaches my mouth, I’m writhing with need.
“Dex, please.” My breathy plea is rewarded with a deep, devouring kiss. His tongue invades my mouth over and over until I’m sure I’ll come apart if he doesn’t fill me up soon.
He slides his hands up my arms, pushing them over my head to the armrest of the couch. Our fingers link and he holds them there, his eyes fixed on mine as he shifts his hips and enters me with one long, slow, torturous thrust.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” His head drops to my neck where he bites and licks at my shoulder. I wiggle my hands out from his so I can dig my nails into his firm backside.
“More Dex. Harder.”
He huffs into my neck, his breath caressing my ear.
“Jesus, Al.”
Dex props up on his elbows and really begins to move. With each powerful thrust, I lift my hips to meet him. Electricity jolts up and down my spine, coiling in a growing ball of energy low in my core.
A shift of his legs changes the angle just enough for him to hit the perfect spot deep inside me. White-hot sparks fly across my vision. The tension building suddenly becomes unbearable, making each gasp for air more and more difficult.
“God Dex, I’m…”
The pleasure detonates into a powerful climax, bliss spreading throughout my body. I ride it out, clutching at Dex’s shoulders as a wash of ecstasy overcomes me.
Dex thrusts a few more times before calling out my name, pumping hard and deep, then collapsing on top of me.
“Holy shit,” he pants.
“Yeah,” I agree.
My body is loose and limp. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. Dex moves his hands under me, then in one quick move, flips over so I’m lying on top of him. I stretch out, taking in the feel of his body, warm and soft yet hard and strong.
I drop a line of small kisses across his collarbone and up his throat, inhaling his wonderful, masculine scent. When I reach his mouth, I brush my lips across his.
“Ready to go back to bed?” he asks, his hand gently stroking my lower back.
“Sure.”
We slide under the sheets naked and Dex immediately wraps his body around mine. My eyelids are heavy, the heat from his skin combined with the contentment from our lovemaking have wiped me out.
The last thing I feel before succumbing to sleep is Dex’s breath on the back of my neck and the fact that I feel safe and loved for the first time in a long time.
Chapter 12
Declan – then
I can’t believe I’m doing this. Sighing, I wait for the makeup artist to finish applying bronzer and other weird shit to my face and body.
The door to the green room opens and I see Marsha Crowder enter, Bluetooth headset in place, chattering away while doing fifty things at once. She ends her call, turning her attention to Lexi, the other model in the campaign with me.
“You ready for the big unveiling?” Marsha shows her perfect rows of teeth, looking back and forth from Lexi to me, waiting for a response.
Marsha managed to get us booked on the most popular morning talk show to unveil the giant ad across the street, towering over Rockefeller Center. With my degree in marketing, I’ve learned more from watching Marsha than I’ve gained from being a model. Sometimes it feels more like an internship than a job.
“Oh yes, Marsha. I can’t wait,” Lexi squeals. She’s not kidding either. This, modeling, morning talk shows, starring in ad campaigns, is Lexi’s entire universe. Today is probably the greatest day of her life.
“How about you Dex?”
“Sure.”
Marsha narrows her eyes at me, but all I can do is shrug. It is what it is. I’m here for the money, not the exposure, and certainly not so I can strut around half-naked all the time with women and some men openly and crudely gawking at me.
“Hmph,” she grunts. “Well, we’re on in ten minutes, so we need to get outside.”
Lexi grins, bouncing out of her makeup chair and out the door. I roll my eyes, tired of her child-like excitement in response to everything we’re asked to do. If she were told to strip naked and strut down Broadway, she’d do it, no questions asked.
“Dex.” Marsha stops me at the door.
“Marsha,” I mimic in her serious tone.
She smiles, unable to hold back the grudging respect she has for me, even when I’m acting petulant.
“Have fun.”
I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, fun. Is that what we’re calling this?”
“When you see your paycheck you will,” she says, handing me a black Sharpie.
“Probably.”
I follow her and Lexi out to the plaza, the crowd that gathers to watch the show meets us with screams and catcalls. People thrust out photos of my different ad campaigns, a few of which I sign as I walk by. Girls squeal and grown women reach out to touch me, making me flinch back from the barrier that separates us.
“I have no idea why I do this,” I mutter under my breath.
I know exactly why I do this, though. My parents, who think this is so far beneath me, who belittled my decision to chuck my degree aside for a few years to earn some money, have no problem letting me pay their bills and help them out. They just don’t respect what I do.
We reach the center of the crowd, where a large area is kept clear for the cast of the show and their guests. They introduce the segment, going on about various things that I tune out.
Finally, the huge sheet is pulled off of the three-story billboard, revealing Lexi and me wearing nothing but jeans. I face outward, the top button undone, staring out intimidatingly over the city. Lexi stands with her back to the camera, her head tilted over her shoulder in a sexy pout.
How fucking humiliating.
When it’s over, I rush back to my dressing room and throw on my oversized T-shirt and cargo shorts. I want to get the hell out of here before I crawl out of my skin.
A sharp rap at the door startles me. I’m ready to leave this place, so I grab my duffel as I move to let in whoever is knocking.
“Declan Foster, right?”
A man in a dark blue power suit is standing in the hall regarding me curiously.
“Yes, who are you?”
I could be more polite, but my niceness was all used up while I was being groped by the crowd.
“I’m Corbin Lowell. Do you have a minute to talk?”
Who the fuck is this guy?
“Listen, I’m headed out. What is it you wanted?”
Power suit, Corbin, leans against the doorframe and smiles. He hands me a business card.
Corbin Lowell – Talent Agent
Trinity Talent Group
“Okay. What does this mean?” I start walking, hoping that power suit won’t follow me. He does.
Persistent bastard.
“Have you ever thought about acting?” he asks.
We exit the studio, emerging onto a
busy New York sidewalk.
“No.” I stop and face him. “What is it that you want from me?”
“Look, can I get you a cup of coffee? I have an offer you may be interested in.”
I give in. I have nowhere to be for the rest of the day. In fact, now that the campaign is officially launched, I’m pretty much done with work for a while.
“Fine. You can buy me a coffee, Mr. Lowell. But I’ll let you know up front, that,” I point back towards the television studio, “and that,” then I jerk my thumb up at the huge billboard looming over us, “isn’t me.”
He grins. “You’re right. You can be so much more.”
Allie – now
“Allie, wait up a second.”
I turn to see my co-worker, scratch that, my co-volunteer Leah, hurrying down the hall to talk to me. When Leah sold her business to help manage Ryker’s crazy schedule, I quickly tapped her for the charity.
Smiling, I put the thick binder I’ve been carrying all morning down on the desk and come out from behind the half wall that partitions off the nurses’ station from the rest of the hospital ward.
“Leah, I didn’t know you were here today.”
The tiny, blonde-haired ball of fire strides right over to pull me into a hug.
“I’m not here today.” When she releases me, I look at her questioningly, my mouth quirking up in the corner. Leah laughs, “Well, I’m here today, but I’m not volunteering today. I heard you were back in town and rushed over to see you.”
“You could have just called me.”
She grins, the big Cheshire cat grin that made me become her friend all those years ago in London. “I know, but what’s the fun in that?” She hooks her arm through mine. “Let’s get lunch.”
I pull out my phone to scroll through my calendar app. “I have another session at… two o’clock. That gives us…”
“Plenty of time to catch up,” Leah finishes for me.
Shaking my head, I chuckle at my friend’s enthusiasm. “Okay, let me put my stuff away. We can go to Trellis, they have that patio that I love and it’s gorgeous out today.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re being seated at a wrought iron table at the tiny Italian bistro. The waitress tries to hand us menus, but we’ve been here so often we order without looking.
“So, how’s everything with Inpatient? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in the wards.” Leah leans her elbows on the table, her blue eyes filled with sincerity.
“It’s great. I love working for the charity full time. I wasn’t sure if I would, you know, working with family. But I honestly love it.”
“I’m so glad. I know it was hard for you to quit pharmacy. You busted your ass to get there.”
I shrug. “Yeah, but I’m not sorry. Everything turned out great for me, so I can’t complain.”
“No, you can’t.” Leah smirks. “How’s that hot husband of yours doing these days?”
At the mention of Dex, I turn to mush. I’m sure my features are all starry-eyed and dreamy, but I can’t help it. He just does that to me. “He’s great, how’s Ryker doing?”
She grins, “Perfect as usual, especially now that the Quantum trilogy is done and over with. The crazy fans have really backed off. It makes life so much easier.”
“I know. Dex didn’t have the fans like Ryker did, but life is still so much better with all of that insanity in the rearview mirror.” I picture my husband, so beautiful and smart and kind. Not a day goes by that I don’t feel lucky to have him in my life. Especially when he does that thing with his tongue…
The waitress returns with our food, placing the dishes down on the table before quietly leaving us to eat.
“Hmmmm, why do you look like you’re imaging Dex naked right now? You got it bad girl.” She starts giggling at my ridiculousness.
“I do.” I laugh with her. She’s right, I do have it bad. “He still acts here and there, but he’s doing more marketing and financial stuff lately for his business.”
Dex started a public relations firm that works in conjunction with studios and other big entertainment groups. They manage all of their promotional needs plus a few other services. He loves acting, but wanted to use his brilliant mind to do more than that.
“Ryker mentioned that. I’m really happy for you Al. After all the shit you went through, hell, that your family went through, you deserve it.”
Leah scrunches her face up as if tasting something bitter. I’m sure she’s remembering the tabloid nightmares that have surrounded Syd and Drew and to a lesser degree, Dex and me over the last few years.
“Thanks Leah. For everything.”
She winks playfully. “Anytime girl. Anytime.”
Declan – five years later
My phone chirps from where it rests next to my thigh on the leather seat. I scoop it up when I see that it’s a text from Allie.
“One sec,” I tell my companion. A nod from the other side of the back seat of the Town Car lets me know that he understands.
Allie
“It’s Allie. She wants to know how long we’ll be.”
He looks out the window to see how close we are to our destination. “Fifteen minutes to get there, ten to get inside, mingle, kiss ass, finish this shit, drive home… I’d say two hours, two and a half max.”
“Sounds about right.” I type out my response.
Me
My phone pings almost immediately.
Allie
I can’t hide the grin that spreads across my face. Something special is Allie’s code for ‘when you get home I’ll be naked and waiting’.
“Dude, could you at least attempt to rein it in? That’s my sister you’re leeching over. Don’t make me fuck you up too.”
I cover my smile with my hand, but it doesn’t falter. Nothing can keep me from lusting after my wife, not even an angry Drew Forrester threatening me with a beat down.
“Sure Drew. No problem.” A small bark of laughter erupts from my chest.
“Ass,” he mutters.
I attempt to glare at him, but can’t manage the intimidating look I’m going for. Smirking, I taunt him. “Don’t you have a pregnant wife at home waiting for you? Maybe you should spend your time texting her instead of busting my balls.”
Drew glares back at me. He doesn’t have any problem keeping his gaze intimidating. I smile and turn back to my phone.
Me
Allie
“Shit.” I groan and shift on the seat at the thought of Allie touching herself.
“Fuck, Dex! Cut it out!” Drew shoots daggers at me.
I roll my eyes at his attitude. He’s been a beast all day. In fact, he’s been pretty much intolerable ever since Allie confessed to her brother that football player Troy White, now of the New York Jets, is the guy that took advantage of her back in college.
In my wife’s defense, she didn’t mean for him to ever find out. Drew can be very unpredictable when it comes to defending his family. Sometimes, he can be terrifying. Sort of like he is now.
He invited us to join him for a game a couple of months ago in a luxury box at Met Life Stadium where the Jets were playing the Patriots. Allie, a lifetime Patriot fan, flat out refused to go. Drew pushed as usual, Allie argued also as usual. He put two and two together when she yelled out that she’d never set foot anywhere that was in a five-mile radius of the ‘asshole that ruined her life’.
Now, I’m stuck in a car with a hostile brother-in-law and a naked wife at home that I’m not supposed to lust after in his presence.
Fuck me.
The car glides to a stop in front of an upscale club in lower Manhattan. Two valets open our doors so we can step out.
“Ready?” Drew fixes his shirtsleeves, tugging on them under his jacket.
“Remember, what you promised,” I remind him.
“Yeah,
yeah.” He blows me off in typical Drew fashion as he stalks up the red carpet.
“Jesus, this is going to be so awful.” I mutter under my breath. I hurry to catch up to Drew.
The paparazzi outside the club snap our picture over and over, calling out our names as we pass. Neither of us acknowledges any of them, instead keeping our focus on getting in and out of this thing just like we planned.
“Come on,” I say to Drew the second we’re out of sight of the media. “Upstairs.”
He follows me through the club to a staircase in the back. We greet people as we go, chatting briefly and moving on. No one thinks twice about seeing us, even though we’re not on the ‘official’ guest list. My company does the PR for this club and for the brand of liquor being unveiled tonight.
“What is this party again?” Drew asks.
“Launch party for a new brand of tequila. The main investor is the guy who owns the Jets.”
Drew makes a noise, kind of a grunt, but continues to follow me to the second level. We hit the landing and scan the dark room.
“There,” he says, nodding to my left.
I follow his chin, my eyes finding their target almost immediately.
“Fucking bastard,” Drew hisses.
He’s right, of course. The asshole is surrounded with women, none of whom are his pregnant wife, a well-known country singer.
“He’s going to the back room with one of the women,” I say.
We watch as they laugh and smile, his hand on the woman’s lower back, rubbing a little too low for a married man.
“Now,” Drew says, taking off before I can get my bearings. He weaves through the crowded space, ignoring everyone who tries to strike up a conversation. Once again, I have to hurry to keep up.
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