“I’m going to come,” he warned, his voice tight. “Where do you want it, baby? Tell me.”
“Inside me,” I gasped, wrapping my legs around him to keep him deep. “I want to feel you come inside me.”
With a final, powerful thrust, Sean buried himself to the hilt, his body shuddering as he emptied himself inside me. The feeling of his release triggered a third, smaller orgasm that had me clinging to him, my nails digging into his back as we rode out the waves of pleasure together.
After, when our heartbeats had slowed and our breathing steadied, Sean gathered me against him. I rested my head on his chest, in my favorite position. His fingers gently traced swirls on my bare shoulder as I listened to the strong, steady rhythm of his heart.
“Worth missing your speech?” I murmured sleepily, my body deliciously sated.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Worth missing anything,” he answered simply. His hand slid down to cup my ass possessively. “But don’t think we’re done yet. A week is a long time to make up for, and I plan to have you at least twice more before morning.”
His semi-hard cock twitched against my thigh, already beginning to recover. I smiled against his chest, knowing it would be a long, delicious night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
SEAN
I woke slowly;my first conscious thought a simple, profound sense of rightness. Beth was asleep beside me, her fiery hair a chaotic halo on the pillow, her body a warm, trusting weight against my side. I shifted slightly, wrapping my arm more securely around her waist, pulling her closer until her back was flush against my chest. Her scent, that intoxicating mix of her perfume and the unique, warm smell of her skin, filled my senses.
This. This was what I’d flown back for. This quiet moment of intimacy, this feeling of profound peace that settled deep in my bones. It wasn’t just the sex, though Christ, that had been incredible. A raw, desperate collision that felt less like a hookup and more like a homecoming. It was this. The aftermath. The stillness. The simple, uncomplicated fact of her being here, safe in my arms. I pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, a wave of protectiveness so fierce it almost stole my breath. I felt like I could slay dragons for this woman.
My phone, charging on the nightstand, buzzed with an incoming text, a jarring intrusion into our quiet bubble. I sighed, carefully untangling myself from Beth so as not to wake her. It was probably Danny with some logistical question about the rescheduled gigs. I grabbed the phone, my thumb swiping to open the message.
It was from Danny, but it wasn’t a question. It was just a link to a gossip website, with a single line of text from him:You need to see this. Now!
A cold knot of dread formed in my stomach. I clicked the link. The page loaded, and the headline, written in bold, screaming letters, stated:
NOT EVEN NYC IS SAFE FROM THE HUMAN WRECKING BALL, ELISABETH MACLEOD
My blood ran cold. Below the vicious headline was a photo. It was from the gala balcony last night, shot from a distance, slightly grainy. Beth, looking stunning in her emerald gown, was locked in an intimate embrace with a man, and it wasn’t me. His arms were around her, one hand on her ass, the other possessive on her lower back, and his face buried in her neck. Her expression was hidden. It wasn’t a kiss, but it was close. Definitely intimate. The man was Garrett.
My vision tunneled. The air in the room suddenly felt thin, hard to breathe. I scrolled down, my hands shaking, my mind refusing to process what I was seeing. The article was a masterpiece of character assassination, penned by some anonymous source. It didn’t just report; it judged. It painted Beth as a manipulative social climber, using her “torrid affair” with me to gain notoriety while simultaneously seducing a prominent employee at the very foundation where she was supposed to be atoning for her past sins. It was a targeted, vicious attack.
My mind reeled, trying to make sense of it. The timeline was a blur. The gala. Beth on the balcony. She’d said she was shaken, that she’d thought she’d seen someone. She asked if it was me. I remember now.She worried I’d seen her making out with Garrett.
A white-hot rage, primal and blinding, roared through me. It wasn’t just anger; it was a deep, soul-crushing sense of betrayal. I had risked my career for this woman. I had flown across the country early, torn my schedule to shreds, all based on a gut feeling that she was in trouble, that she needed me. I had confessed my past trauma to Danny, laid my soul bare to justify my “insane” quest. And all the while, she was on a balcony, wrapped in the arms of that slick, corporate prick?
The Olivia story, my father’s advice, my own damn principles—it all felt like a bitter joke now. I had been a fool. A lovesick, naive idiot who had mistaken a world-class manipulator for a damsel in distress.
The quiet, steady rhythm of Beth’s breathing from the bed was suddenly an intolerable sound. The peace of the morning had shattered, leaving behind razor-sharp shards of jealousy and fury. I stood up, the phone clenched in my fist, my knuckles white.
“Beth.”
My voice was a low growl, unrecognizable even to my own ears.
She stirred, murmuring something in her sleep.
“Beth, wake up.”
She rolled over, her eyes fluttering open, a soft, sleepy smile on her lips as she saw me. “Sean? What’s wrong?” Her smile faded as she took in my expression, her brow furrowing with concern.
I didn’t say a word. I just turned the phone around and showed her the screen.
I watched as her eyes scanned the headline, then the photo. I saw the color drain from her face, her expression morphing from sleepy confusion to pure, unadulterated horror.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, sitting up, clutching the sheet to her chest. “Sean, this isn’t… it’s not what it looks like. I swear.”
“Isn’t it?” The words were clipped, sharp. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like what it is. It looks like you, on that balcony, with him. The guy you swore was just a professional colleague.”
