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She tips her head back, chest arched toward me as she comes. Her pussy clenches tight, fluttering around my cock as I go over the edge with her, coming inside of her for the second time.
I release her nipple just as she starts to fall forward again, inner walls pulsing in the aftershock of her orgasm. Pushing her damp hair out of her face, I pepper her forehead with kisses, breathing in deep. The scent of me clings to her skin, mixing with the sex in the air.
Cheek to my chest, she says, “The girls are going to die when they hear about this.”
I belt out a loud laugh, kissing the tip of her nose. The entire world has started to learn about her relationship with me, but I’m positive Bryce and Poppy are the only two opinions she cares about. I love her for that. It’s too easy to fall into the trap of caring what people think of you. To focus on it and let it change the way you think of yourself and those around you. It took me years to accept that.
Now, I don’t bother with social media at all, and somehow, I found a woman who doesn’t either. It’s impossible to shut theworld out when you’re in my position, but it does make it a bit easier to handle.
Still, I do worry that my career might become too much for her. It’s not an easy thing to live with most of the time, and it won’t be for us. My trip back to Nashville is looming, and I have a plan, but fuck knows it could fail. I have a house there, a life separate from the one in Cherry Peak. Friends, expected appearances, long days and nights in the studio recording my next album. It was nice hiding from those responsibilities while I was home, but I always knew it wouldn’t last forever.
I never expected to meet Annalise. She threw a wrench into everything, but I wouldn’t change a damn thing.
Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her tight, wishing we could stay here forever. “What do you say we have a shower, and I’ll make breakfast before we head out and check on Banana?”
“I say yes. I’ll trim your hair while we’re at it.”
And that was that. The start of the best Christmas I’ve ever had.
A week later,I’m shaking off the rain from my jacket as I step into the Swift Edge Records building. Still riding the high from my Christmas with Anna, I smile at the receptionist when she waves me through.
The Nashville location is one of five offices the label has in the United States, with another two locations in Canada. Their main office is in Toronto, and the other is under construction in Calgary. The Nashville building is only the second I’ve ever been to. The LA office is bigger and far ritzier. I’ve only been once andwouldn’t mind never having to go back. The outrageously large crystal chandeliers and black marble flooring made my skin itch.
I prefer it here. It’s still large in space but much calmer. Soft wood floors, brown walls with accents of black spread throughout. Security waves as I step into the elevator and press the button for the twentieth floor, where the boardroom is located. There’s only one floor higher than where I’m headed, and it belongs to Garrison Beckett, the CEO and reclusive douchebag.
If I could, I’d skip the meeting and go right to the studio to meet with his father, Reggie Beckett, in private, without the judgmental eyes of every label exec on the payroll.
The elevator doors shut, and I’m quick to pull out my phone. The text waiting there has my nerves slipping away, replaced by an ache I’ve felt from the moment I boarded my plane to come here. Anna changed her contact name Christmas morning, saying there was another Banana now, so she needed something just for her.
Buttercup: Good luck today! We miss you already.
The picture attached makes me grin like a fool. I’m so gone for this woman that I’ve started considering a damn cow a pet. Anna has the phone stretched out far, focusing the camera on her and Banana as they play in the snowy field. She’s put the fluffy thing’s hair into two tiny pigtails at the top of her head, yellow bows wrapped at the bottom of them that match the one in her owner’s hair.
I immediately save the picture, choosing it as my new lock screen before replying to the text.
Me: Never thought I’d be the father of a cow, but I’m damn proud. You’re both adorable. Miss you.
The elevator doors open, and I pocket my phone before striding down the long, carpeted hallway to the boardroom. I’m exactly on time, but everyone is already inside waiting when I get there, staring at me in a way that makes me think I should have been here an hour ago.
“Hey,” I say, sitting in the only empty seat. I swallow my annoyance at the placement of it. The side-eye from Garrison is almost enough to make me snap.
Reggie is the only one I truly acknowledge, and his smile is a welcome sight in this room of bloodthirsty piranhas.
“Glad to have you back, Brody,” he says, voice genuine and honest.
I nod, unsure what to say back that isn’t a blatant lie. I’m not glad to be back. Rather the opposite, actually. But Reggie doesn’t deserve to hear that from me.
“How are you feeling?” Garrison asks, drawing my attention.
I look him over, from the perfectly styled and gelled hair on his head to the hairless jaw to the expensive suit fit to his lean body. The watch on his wrist glitters beneath the boardroom lights. He drips with wealth, and it’s as revolting as it is impressive.
He’s nothing like his father. Reggie wears bright colours and scruffy silver hair on his face. He’s artistic where his son is bland, free-spirited where his son has a stick so far up his ass he’s gotta taste wood whenever he swallows.
Last I heard, they still don’t get along either. Not that that’s surprising in the least.
“I’m better. Feelin’ good,” I answer.
He nods, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. The screen is bright enough I can make out everything written on it. My stomach sours.
