Page 74 of The Show

He sealed the rest of my words with a kiss, and that was the last gentle act he took. Rearing up, he grabbed hold of both my hands in one, pinning them above my head. Hooking my thigh over his hip, he rocked hard, settling himself right up to the hilt before pulling all the way out and then plunging back in, not once did he drop my gaze. Not once did he look away. He was in total control, and I could do nothing but concede it.

Over and over, smooth stroke followed by smooth stroke, relentless and unyielding, taking the pair of us to the top of a mountain we were going to fall right off. The sound of our bodies meeting mingled with an intermittent moaning that I found impossible to tell which one of us it was coming from. Likely both.

“Let go, Lowe. I want to feel you coming on my dick. Fucking let go,” he roared.

He rolled his pelvis over mine and bore down. My brain splintered. My chest shattered. Every atom that built me was wrenched from my body, replaced with nothing but a swirling vortex of dust and air. Then he followed, every muscle of his I was gripping onto spasmed under my fingers as he emptied himself with one final, almighty thrust, and a cry which rent through the room.

I barely registered him collapsing to the side of me, or the way his tongue licked the sweat from my neck. I wanted to look at him, but my head was too heavy to move, and I had no structure left in my body.

Eventually, I registered the sensation of his fingertips tracing little circles round my belly button.

“Holy fuck. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. Whatwasthat?”

I didn’t have an answer.

I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know who was sharing my pillow.

Tonight, my visitor hadn’t been the mighty Penn Shepherd I’d all heard about. Or the Penn Shepherd who Lauren teased relentlessly, the one who left broken hearts all over the city.

I was willing to bet no one had metthisPenn Shepherd before. That I’d just experienced someone no one else had.

He was right. Baseball was romantic.

13

Penn

Ihad to hand it to myself, I’d really fucking nailed it.

Byit, I meant my composure, obviously. I was a masterclass in composure.

PHD levels.

Look up composure in the dictionary and my beautiful face would be beaming out right next to the word.

You get the idea.

The reason? She was lying right next to me.

It had been a long time since I’d dreamed of waking up next to Lowe, and I don’t mean subconsciously. I mean literally dreamed of it happening; thought of it every morning when I woke up alone, fantasized about it during board meetings, and pictured it every night as I fell into bed. But it was something I’d given up years ago, seeing as it always infected me with a filthy, black mood for the rest of the day.

Yet this morning it was real; really,reallyreal.

I was almost too scared to look away out of fear of her disappearing. But there she was, every time I opened my eyes again, breathing so softly I could barely stand it. And every minute which had passed since she’d fallen asleep, I’d had to remind myself that I wasn’t dreaming.

She stirred on her pillow, her nose scrunching up, but her eyes stayed closed. I gently brushed away a strand of hair which had fallen across her face, then tucked my hand back up under the pillow to continue with my watching, staying as still as I could so as not to disturb her.

I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be any more beautiful, but it was almost as if all my senses had been heightened now I’d been able to experience every aspect of her - her taste, her smell, her touch, her sounds - that they’d all bonded together and formed a pull so terrifyingly strong and deep it could drown me if I let it.

So, yeah, while I may have been outwardly composed since the second I’d walked through her front door last night, inwardly, I’d been losing my shit like a fifteen year old touching a pair of boobs belonging to the head cheerleader, and the star of all his adolescent fantasies.

To me, Lowe was all that and more.

When I’d been fifteen, she’d been eighteen. The perfect poster pin-up. Untouchable. So out of reach to me even one of Marnie’s rockets wouldn’t have been able to get to her. Yet, by some miracle, I’d finally managed it, and there was no way I was going to waste a single moment of watching her by sleeping.

My dick felt the same, seeing as he’d been sporting a semi since I’d eased out of her for the final time. It had only been a few hours since we’d finally crashed right as dawn was breaking; as soon as she’d closed her eyes, I’d settled into this position, slowly losing feeling in my arm, but quickly falling more in love with her than I ever had been before.

This was it. I knew I would never experience anything so perfect.

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