Page 94 of Something to Someone

I groaned but leaned up and kissed her somewhat awkwardly at our angle. It still made her smile, and that’s all I wanted.

“Every time we have sex, pretty girl, it’s the best sex of my life. We keep outdoing ourselves.”

Her eyes flared with accomplishment and agreement. “We really do,” she said, her voice low and sultry. She reached forward and ran a single finger over my jaw then up to my cheekbone. She trailed that single finger across my forehead and repeated the pattern on the other side of my face.

It was so soothing and calming, my entire body relaxed with her weight on top of me and every sweep of her finger.

“I love you so much,” she said quietly. I breathed deeply and rested my hands on her hips. My reaction when she said it for the first time a few months ago and now were exactly the same. My heart rate picked up, and I felt this lightness in my chest. I was the luckiest person in the world hearing those words from her lips. And I wanted to hear them every day for the rest of my life.

I opened my eyes and was greeted by her easy, serene smile and wild sex hair.

“I love you, too. So much.”

She sighed and continued drawing patterns across my face. Closing my eyes, I focused back on the feeling.

“I’m glad you were trouble,” she said after several minutes of silence, and I smiled.

“Is that so?”

I could feel her nod against my chest. “I’m glad you had the confidence to do what I couldn’t. To go after what you wanted and not give up until you had it.”

I opened my eyes to see her looking down at my mouth where her fingers traced my lips. She was looking at me, but she was lost in thought.

“I was never going to give up on you, pretty girl. You’re it for me. Always have been, always will be. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

I kissed her fingers, and her eyes finally met mine. They were clear and bright.

“You’re it for me, too, Trouble.” And I had to kiss her after hearing the sincerity in every word, so I’d know what my future tasted like, too.

EPILOGUE

MR. PHANTOM

Addison

“This one might be my favorite.”The comment came from a man who had stopped beside me. Far enough away that he wasn’t in my personal space, but close enough that I could feel him there.

My throat went dry at the sound of his voice. It was low and husky, and I immediately wanted to hear it again.

I was well and truly out of my comfort zone. The sultry, sexy club around me was not my usual scene, but my boss, Caroline, couldn’t make it to the opening and asked me if I wanted to go instead. She knew I had been down recently and thought it would cheer me up. Except it wasn’t until I walked through the door and pushed back the velvet green curtain that I realized it wasn’t just a club, it was the new sex club, Abditory.

Caroline knew everyone in the city, so I wasn’t surprised she’d scored an invite. I, however, wasn’t likely the person they expected. Although it seemed fine that she transferred the invite.

The first floor was a bar and lounge—velvet green sofas, leather barstools and dark wood finishes—but the upper two floors were playrooms, as the hostess had called them, and an open play area. Those were supposed to open for use in almost two hours, and I wasn’t planning on participating.

Until then, I was sipping my drink and walking the perimeter of the panel-lined room, observing the art hung on the wall in the dim light and trying like hell to forget everything that had happenedbeforeI walked through that curtain.

Like that my boyfriend, Owen, who said he would come with me, had ditched me for who knows what. I tried to forget that it wasn’t the first time. I tried to forget the“we need to talk”text I’d sent him while getting in the car to come here. I tried to forget the woman I was half an hour before. I wanted to be someone different for the night. Someone who didn’t have to deal with that real life mess.

And the man who appeared next to me looked like he might make it easier to forget.

“All of the women grinding on a…uh…large penis, I wonder why it’s your favorite,” I muttered sarcastically and looked over at him.

He was wearing a white mask that obscured half his face and a well-cut tuxedo. Not that I knew whether it fit well or not, but it looked damn good on him.

He was dressed as the Phantom fromThe Phantom of the Opera.He fit in with everyone else well. Caroline had transferred the ticket to me so last minute, that I didn’t have time to pick through the measly leftover costumes the few stores still had on Halloween. So, I’d thrown something together from things already in my closet—a short blue dress, a black belt, matching Mary Jane heels, and white knee-high socks. I’d even put my blonde hair in pigtails.

Voilà, I was freaking Bubbles from thePower Puff Girls.

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