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“The morality clause in my contract includes fraternization,” I explain, since Bailey still looks lost. “If I’m caught fraternizing with any employees, the network would have clear cause to terminate my employment.”
Two sets of eyes follow my hands as I go to work on the buttons at my collar. For the moment I ignore them.
“They’re going to find out anyway,” I say to Drew as I work. “You realize that, right? If there’s security footage backstage, it’s only a matter of time. We’ll go to Greeley first thing tomorrow to make sure you’re seen as cooperating. But it’s going to come out either way.”
“How can you be okay with that?” Drew asks. His voice is thick, distracted. I take my time with the last of the buttons, slowly tugging the shirt off and dropping it on the floor next to me.
“It’s done,” I say, rubbing a hand over the tattoo on my chest. If I’m going down, you can be damn sure I’m going to make it worth my while.
“There has to be another way,” says Drew. His voice is thick and I can tell he’s about ten seconds away from being thoroughly distracted. I intend to make sure of it.
I knew what I was getting myself into. It’s not like I planned to go sneaking around the competition and trying to get caught, but I knew the risks, with him and Bailey both. If the network found out she and I were involved too, I’d be done for sure.
If they found out it was all three of us, together? Bailey’d get cut from the show, certainly, and there was no small chance Drew and I would both be out of work.
But I don’t think about that now. I don’t think about how long I’ve waited for this kind of career break, not when it’s my fault Drew’s in such a mess, and that Bailey’s shot at stardom is at risk. She acts like it doesn’t matter to her if she wins, but why else would she sign up? Of course it matters.
I can’t fix it. All I can do is scrape together whatever I’ve got left, whatever they’ll let me take from this. I’m not foolish enough to think this thing between us can last beyond a few nights in a hotel suite.
So I’ll take what I can get. Tomorrow can take care of itself.
I fist a hand in Bailey’s shirt and pull her over Drew’s lap to kiss me. Her startled whimper hits my heart like a drug, and I need more. Now.
“Get these clothes off,” I mutter. Bailey whimpers again, gripping my shoulders so hard her nails bite into the skin. The pain spurs me on. Drew takes up the challenge, his hands working between our bodies as he tugs Bailey’s shirt up over her head, separating us for a moment until I can get my mouth back where it needs to be.
Desperation colors the air around us, and though I’m keenly aware it’s coming from me, I can’t help it. If this is the last time I get to be with them, I’m going to take it all.
“Bed,” I say, pulling Bailey’s legs around my waist so I can carry her. Drew follows, but stops in the doorway. I lean down, chasing Bailey’s mouth as I lay her out on the bedspread.
“Problem?” I ask him over my shoulder.
“Cooper,” says Drew. Something in his voice has me standing up to look. “I don’t think—”
“I do,” I say, cutting him off. “Get over here.”
Bailey nods, watching between us.
“Please, Drew,” she says softly. It’s her words, not mine, that have him moving toward us. That’s going to piss me off later, but for now I have other things to worry about.
I pull Bailey’s tiny excuse for underwear down her legs, throwing them somewhere behind me and kneeling at the foot of the bed.
“Coop, I—”
“Later,” I say, shoving her knees wide and setting my mouth to her body. Bailey cries out, her fingers tangling in my hair, holding me in place.
I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. Not yet.
She’s already damp, the scent of her arousal causing my heart to pound. We didn’t have time for this last time and I’m not going another day without it. Digging around in my jeans I retrieve the condom I’d—admittedly optimistically—pocketed earlier, making quick work of my zipper and rolling it over my painfully stiff erection.
“Need you,” I murmur, moving up over her body and kissing her hard. Bailey slides her tongue across my lips, tasting herself and making me crazy.
“You have me,” she whispers. A heartbeat later, I’m sliding home, Bailey’s back arching hard as I drive into her.
“Christ,” I say, dropping my head to her shoulder. “Christ, Bailey.”
“Yes.”
The intoxicating wet heat of Bailey’s body means I’ve lost track of Drew the for last few minutes, so the hand on my hip startles me out of my rhythm. Bailey’s breath stutters as I slow us down, forcibly yanking myself back from the point of no return.
