“So good.”
He nods and releases my hand so he can strum my clit with the same precision and expertise he brings to his music. Maybe this is why women go crazy for rock stars. My pulse races and my breath comes quicker. I’m there again. So close. He increases the rhythm of our love making, but still it’s not enough. I want to feel his body on mine, heavy and strong.
“More. Please,” I beg and that’s all the encouragement he needs. He abandons my clit and his thrusts go deeper, more powerful. His pelvis hits against my clit and I grind my body to seek the friction I need for release.
“Yes. More.” My hands reach around his shoulders and dig into his skin to pull him down onto me.
His head bows, his mouth on mine, and then at my ear. “That’s it. Get there. I won’t come until you do.” His throaty growl strikes passion in my core and a few minutes later I’m coming, my center squeezing and begging for his release. Muttering unintelligible words of pleasure and affection, I clench my eyes shut as my orgasm rushes through me. I’d always heard about climaxes like this. Ones that curl your toes they’re so good. I thought they were a load of crap. Evidently not.
“Oh, God, yes. You feel so good, baby.” Leighton’s breaths hit my skin, little bursts of air that scatter goosebumps across my flesh. I can tell he’s close from the lack of control in his movement. His hips pump once, twice, and then his muscles go rigid. “God, Opal. So good.” He groans into the crook of my neck and I cradle his body against mine as he relaxes on top of me.
I try to take a full breath but his weight makes it impossible. “Can’t breathe.” I pat his back, and let a little laugh escape my lips.
“Shit. Sorry.” He pushes off of me, holding himself and the condom as he rolls to the side. He stares unabashedly at my naked skin and messy hair. I doubt I resemble anything close to a supermodel but the heat from his stare makes me feel like one.
“I need to take care of this.” He cups his crotch, grabs his sweats, and pushes up off the floor. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
I nod and stare at his backside as he struts away. I stretch out my legs and there’s a soreness, a dull ache that wasn’t there before, but other than that I’m fine. I consider tracking down my clothes, or at least my underwear, but before I move Leighton steps back down the hall.
He drops to his knees and it’s then I notice the cloth in his hands. “May I?” he says to my vagina more than my face. Of course it’s this moment that embarrasses me most and I can feel the heat move up my cheeks as I nod my consent. The cloth is wet and warm, and my bashfulness fades at the thoughtfulness of his actions.
After he finishes wiping between my legs he sets the cloth to the side, wrapped in the towel we made love on. I expect him to hand me my clothes, but he surprises me yet again by laying at my side and pulling me close.
I rest my head on his chest, enjoying how his arm wraps around my waist, and listen to the rapid beat of his heart. I snuggle in closer, and relax into the comfortable silence. He doesn’t speak, and neither do I, as if we’re both trying to prolong this moment.
“We should probably clean up.” He finally sighs, and turn to his side to meet my gaze. His smile is playful and sweet. “I don’t know when they’ll be back, but we shouldn’t be naked on the floor when it happens.”
I nod, agreeing wholeheartedly, but I can’t bring myself to smile like he does. I trace my fingers over his now healed tattoo. I’ve never been good at keeping secrets, not from the people I love. I can’t let this day get away from us without coming clean. Nerves bubble in my belly, the fear he could be upset with me for hiding this from him, but I battle through because I have to be honest. “Hey, there’s something I need to tell you.” I glance up to meet his weary gaze.
“Okay.”
“I’m not supposed to. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone, but I can’t keep this from you. Not if we’re together.”
His eyes drop to the space between us and I swear I can feel him pulling away.
“You know Lexi Marx? Of course you do. I’m her . . . She’s my—”Lord, what is wrong with me?After keeping this secret for so long, I don’t know quite how to frame it.Just spit it out!“We share the same father. We’re half-sisters.”
“Oh, yeah?” He meets my stare, a crinkle at the corners of his eyes as if he’s about to laugh. A chuckle escapes his mouth and he reaches for my hand, pulling it to his lips to kiss softly. “I kinda already figured that out.”
“What? No way!”
“Yes, way. No one came out and said it exactly, but between how protective Trent is and how much you seem to care about Lexi, and all the talk about your sister, I put two and two together.”
“Oh. Well, crap.” I thought we were being careful. I guess I dropped my guard around Leighton miles ago. “Lexi doesn’t want the press to get hold of it.”
“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.” He meets my gaze, his eyes wide and full of emotion. “I’ll act like I don’t know. Same as the guys. If that helps.”
I close the space between our lips and kiss him. “You’re a good man.”
“I’m not.” He shakes his chin stiffly. “You just want to believe I am.”
“No. You are. You passed up the interview today for time alone with me. I may not know everything, but I sure as heck knowRolling Stoneis a big deal.”
His brow pinches with a deep furrow. As if my answer somehow pains him. “It was nothing.”
“It was everything.” I wait until he lifts his gaze to mine, proud of how my voice doesn’t waver even though it only takes one look from him to rattle my nerves. “You’re a good man, Leighton. The kind of man I want to be with.”Forever. I don’t say that last part. I’m not a fool. I know it’s too much and too fast, but the thought comes all the same. I could envision a life with him. If I’m honest, I already do.
His gaze is full of longing and he reaches for my hip, pulling our bodies flush together. “You make me believe I can be that kind of man. Hope that I might be.”
