I slide in slowly, planning to take my time, but the second I’m inside her, I lose all self-control, pounding into her from behind, my fingers digging into her hips, my hips slapping against her ass as I bury myself inside her over and over again.
Quinn moans, her palms flat against the tile. Unable to resist, I slide one hand between her legs, knowing I need her to come again.
It doesn’t take either of us long. The sounds of our combined orgasms are even louder in the bathroom.
“Jesus,” I breathe out, wrapping my arms around her waist as I collapse onto her back, my mouth against her shoulder. “Fucking you is my favorite thing in the whole world.”
Quinn giggles, and I press a kiss to her shoulder before reluctantly pulling out and spinning her around to face me.
“You good?”
She giggles again. “Yeah, I’m very good.”
I give her a quick kiss before asking, “So tell me what this podcast chick said?”
Kai and I are seated next to each other at my little kitchen table, the laptop in front of us, the screen giving us a message telling us to wait.
I’m nervous, my palms growing sweatier with each passing second, because if this whole thing is a scam, I’m going to look like a complete idiot. Which it could be. People are horrible, especially when it involves celebrities or gossip.
A few seconds later, Allie Foster’s face appears on the screen, smiling and welcoming. Her long auburn hair is piled high on top of her head, her face free of makeup and her nose and cheeks are dotted with a smattering of freckles.
She looks far younger than she does in pictures and videos I’ve seen of her. But it’s definitely her, and I feel my shoulders relax. The moment of anxiety passes but is quickly replaced with what she could possibly want from me.
I know she wants an interview, but I’ve been with Sean long enough to know this industry can spin things any way they want. It’s like the comments on social media, with people thinking they know the situation, making up their own story and turning me into something I’m not.
“Oh, I’m so glad you agreed to meet with me. Now, let’s get this out of the way right now. This isn’t an interview,” she says pointedly, motioning between us on the screen, her smile glowing. “This is just to make sure you’re comfortable with me, so we won’t be talking about your life at all.”
“Sounds good,” I reply, hearing the nervousness in my voice, and Kai rests a comforting hand on the small of my back.
He begins to trace soft circles, calming me. Just his presence calms me in ways I never thought were possible, and after everything I’ve been through, I can’t imagine being with anyone else. He’s made me trust again, made me see that there are men in the world who care, and as he sits by my side, I realize I’ve fallen in love with him.
It’s in this quiet moment of stillness and support—not in all those things he did to make me swoon, but in the way he’s been here no matter what. I could walk away from this interview, from the money it will pay, just like I’ve done with the NDA, and Kai would still be here.
I am in love with him.
For a million reasons, but also for one simple one, too.
It hasn’t been that long, but the feeling is intense and all-consuming, my heart racing, needing to be close to him, and having him support me through all of this.
Looking over at him, I can feel the tears begin to well up in my eyes, overwhelmed and scared, excited and nervous, ready for this all to be over, but also to tell my side of the story.
Without words, he reaches up, his fingers brushing away the stray drops that begin to spill over. Gentle and sweet, his movements are intentional and perfect.
Leaning in, he kisses my temple, reminding me that he’s here no matter what.
“Aww,” Allie croons, pushing out her bottom lip in a sweet pout. “Seems like you found someone way better anyway.”
“Yeah, things here are good.” Glancing at Kai, he smiles reassuringly.
“So, if you decide to move forward with the interview, I’ll come to you. We can do the podcast pretty much anywhere. I’ll send you questions in advance so there are no surprises, but I also like to keep things casual. Kinda like if you were just chatting with a friend.”
I nod, taking it all in.
“After we’re done, it’ll go through editing, and I’ll send it to you before it comes out. Anything that you aren’t okay with, you can let the team know, and we’ll pull it. This is about you and your story. I want you to tell it as you lived it, not my interpretation of it or what the public thinks.”
Again, I nod, but I need to say something, hating that I’m sitting here, silent and just agreeing to everything. This is how I found myself here in the first place.
“I need you to know I’m not doing this for the money,” I suddenly say, defending myself. “I want people to understand that emotional abuse is real. That it takes over your life and ruins you before you even know what’s happening. I want to tell my side of this before the media takes over.”
