Page 3 of Never Have I Ever

I cling to him, my hands pressed to hot skin and taut muscle as I’m pummeled and then caught in the undertow of his orgasm. “So good,” I spill through jagged breaths. I’m chasing the reward I crave, which hits quick this time.

Falling with me, he moans through gritted teeth, “Oh fuck.”

Everything.

Everything.

He’s everything.

My body trembles while wrapped around him in the blissful aftermath. Another breath is stolen as he punctuates his own finish, another “Fucking perfection,” following, making me grin this time.

Looking up at me, he smiles, and it matches the beautiful admiration reaching his eyes. “You’re incredible, Poppy.” He cups my face and kisses me once more before falling to the side with his arms going wide.

As if he hadn’t just made me orgasm twice.

As if he didn’t make me feel like the sexiest woman alive.

As if he can say my name like it’s the only one to ever touch his lips and expect me to survive without him after that.

Tonight’s been fun, incredible as he said, but I’d be a fool to fall for a rock star. I’ve been a fool before, but with Laird, I thought I knew what this was, and one night seemed to be understood. But something’s changed over the course of the past hour . . .

I’m falling for him.

I can’t let my emotions get twisted. I hate that this is one night, and then we go back to our regularly scheduled lives, but I know what we are. Laird is with me on a tour stop in Austin, but I’ll be back in New York tomorrow, and he’ll be in another city surrounded by other women.

Why does he have to be so talented? Making me feel like I’m not just another groupie seems to be his MO, yet I still fell for him. But I know the truth and can’t let that get skewed.

“I love your tattoos,” he whispers. “These were little surprises hidden for me to discover.”

I smile, digging my fingers into his hair. “Sometimes I forget about them, and they’re a surprise for me, too.”

He chuckles. “I forget what half of mine are for.”

“No great meaning behind them?”

“Some,” he says, tapping his ribs. “The guitar on my side. It was my first. It’s a rendering of the first guitar I ever had.” He bends, kissing over the plastic of my new artwork that he designed. “This is my favorite on you.”

I don’t need to see it to know how I feel about the new tattoo. “That’s my favorite, too.”

“You didn’t flinch once while he inked you.”

I laugh, rubbing over the three others on my hip bone. “The knives hurt more.”

He reaches over to trace the small tattoos usually hidden under my clothes, fully exposed to the man who now owns all of me. My breathing stumbles as if my last breath hangs in the balance. “Bold choice.”

“What can I say? I earned every one of them.”

“I have no idea what that means. But . . .” He lies back and pulls me to him like I weigh nothing. “I want to learn everything about you and your bold choices.”

Talking about being a personal chef for the wealthy isn’t a turn-on for me, so I’m sure it won’t be that impressive to him. “You have to leave.”

Shock rattles his chiseled face, pulling his brows together. “You’re kicking me out?”

“What? No.” I push up on my elbow, confused by the accusation. “Oh wait. I meant you need to leave for your tour.”

“Right.” He exhales a laden breath. Draping his arm across his forehead, he looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “The plane leaves at ten in the morning.”

The idea of not seeing him pierces my heart. Knowing the magic of being with Laird will be gone by daylight is unbearable. And I’ll be alone in this hotel room.

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