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“Oh fuck.” I know I’m the one screaming that because it’s my voice echoing off the walls, but that’s all the awareness I have. Ian pushes me up over that cliff and then I’m flying, shooting off like a rocket, every muscle in my body clenching with the force before the release hits and I’m floating through space. I can feel him swelling inside me and he bites down gently on my shoulder to stifle his groan as he comes like a bottle rocket.
For a long moment we’re both lying there panting, him braced over me, holding his weight up. Finally, I tug him down and he collapses next to me, wrapping his arms around me and keeping me nestled against his chest.
“Holy shit,” he says, still out of breath.
I nod, letting out a contented sigh. “You can say that again.”
He blows out another heavy breath. “Holy shit.”
“Goof,” I tease, nudging him with my hip. He kisses the back of my neck, sending goosebumps all up and down my body before he climbs out of the bed and opens my closet door. I snicker and point to the door next to it.
“Bathroom’s in there.”
While he’s washing up, I don’t move. I’m not sure I can move. All my joints feel like jelly, my bones feel nonexistent, but it doesn’t matter because there’s this warm tingly glow over all my skin that won’t go away.
I know I should be worried about what this means going forward. How it’s going to affect the album and the tour. I know I should be worried about getting involved with Ian, opening myself up to that danger of being destroyed again, but I just can’t find it in me to be worried about anything right now. I just want to bask in the afterglow of being with Ian. And maybe try for a round two if he’s up for it.
Chapter 11
Ian
“Here you go, one cup of sugary sugar for you,” I tease, handing Chelsea her coffee as the drive-through girl hands me mine.
“There’s other stuff in here,” she says, glaring at me though even the straw can’t hide her smirk.
“Mm-hmm. Other kinds of sugar maybe.”
She smacks my arm and rolls her eyes. “You’re holding up the line.”
I chuckle and wave to the girl who’s staring at us both wide-eyed, clearly recognizing us. That’s been happening less and less since rehab, but with all the latest press surrounding me and Chelsea, I guess it was inevitable. As I’m pulling off, I can see one of her coworkers in the background trying to sneak pictures. Old Ian would have been annoyed with that, but clean Ian doesn’t care. I just hope the kid makes some decent money off of it.
“Are you sure this was a good idea?” I ask her, watching her lips wrap around that straw in a way that has me hard in an instant.
“What? Paying fifteen dollars for two coffees? Definitely not, but thank you,” she says, grinning.
“Don’t mention it. But no, I mean going into the studio together. You don’t think that’s going to… raise questions?”
She shrugs, happily sipping on her frozen coffee concoction. Waking up to find Chelsea next to me this morning was like waking up to still be in a dream. She was perfection sprawled out on the mattress next to me, her hair fanned out over the pillows. Even the little shiny spot of drool at the corner of her lips was adorable as fuck. I’d woken her with a kiss, holding my breath, praying the first thing in her eyes wouldn’t be regret.
It wasn’t though. She woke up and smiled big at me, and my heart practically jumped out of my chest. She kissed me back and then I only barely managed to wriggle out of her arms before she convinced me we should have sex again. We were already close to being late and we’d definitely be late if we spent the time that activity deserved.
So I’d started getting dressed when she’d followed me out and hopped in the passenger side of my car, her eyes sparkling. By her reasoning, there was no point in taking two vehicles. It was hard to argue with that, but really, I just wanted to show her off.
But now that I remember where we’re going—and who is going to be there—I’m wondering if it was the right call. Showing up with me could really damage Chelsea’s reputation and that’s the last thing I wanna do.
“What, are you ashamed to be seen with me?” she asks with a fake pout. I give her an unamused look.
“The other way around actually.”
She sighs. “Look, whatever other people are going to think, they’re going to think it no matter what we do. If some paparazzi gets pictures of us grabbing coffee together or walking into the studio together, who cares? That’s just more press for the album and more profit for Wish Givers.”
“I guess,” I say, though I don’t mention that it’s not the paparazzi I’m worried about.
And just as I expected, the moment we walk through the studio door Rosa and Merrill are there, both giving us unimpressed looks. Merrill looks disappointed, but Rosa looks pissed. She looks at me like I’m some sort of predator that coaxed her virginal daughter to spread her legs. But that’s not what happened. Chelsea’s an adult and she can make her own damn decisions, even if her manager thinks otherwise.
“Morning,” I say, waving to them both before I head into the booth with my coffee. I don’t need to hear what either of them has to say to me right now because I can already tell I’m not going to like it.
“Chelsea, a word?” Rosa says, her voice clipped and tight. I send Chelsea a nervous look, but she just grins at me like she’s not worried about anything. Chelsea’s never tangled with anything like me before. She doesn’t know the lengths people will go to to save you from yourself when you get involved with someone like me. She has no idea what she’s in for.
