Page 92 of Scandalous Secrets

“For the flowers or your speech?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Flowers? What flowers?” I asked, confused. I had no idea what she was talking about or why anyone would apologize for flowers.

She searched my face for a moment before chewing the inside of her cheek. She looked deep in thought before shaking her head. “Never mind.”

I wanted to ask more about what she meant by the flowers, but I didn’t want to lose my train of thought. I didn’t want to fumble the words I had thought up on the drive.

“I had no idea about the book. I chose it because from all of the back covers I read, the story sounded most like us. And yes, I bought all your books. I plan to read them all because I think you’re fucking brilliant. And I want to know you. All of you.”

“Troy…” she said softly, her glassy eyes on mine, a tear falling down her cheek.

“Please, let me finish. I don’t care about what anyone says about that book. It was damn good. I spent all weekend reading it. I saw us in every single page. I sawyou. Strong and beautiful and sexy and smart. But I don’t want the ending you gave them, clever as it was. I want our own ending. I want to be the man you dream of. The man who inspires you to write again.”

She began to cry harder, and I stepped forward, pulling her into my arms and holding her against my chest. God, I had missed her. I breathed her in as we stood in silence, my arms wrapped around her in the doorway of her apartment.

After a moment, she lifted her damp cheek from my chest and looked up at me.

“That was one hell of a speech,” she whispered.

I chuckled softly before leaning down to kiss her pillowy lips that I had been dreaming about. They were still salty from her tears. She put her hands around my neck and pulled me into her apartment. I kicked the door shut behind me as she led me to her couch. We fell onto it in a heap, and she let out a little squeal that made me laugh softly against her mouth.

I hovered over her as she looked up at me, her beautiful eyes no longer sad. I tucked a piece of her dark hair behind her ear and took her in. I spent a moment memorizing her face. I would never take this for granted again. I could not lose her.

“What is it?” she asked, reaching up and putting her hand on my cheek.

“Just you.”

She smiled before tucking her pouty bottom lip between her teeth. My eyes fell to her mouth. She knew what she was doing. I leaned down and grazed my teeth against her lip before gently tugging at it until it released. She let out a quiet whimper as my tongue ran across her parted lips, seeking an invitation. She obliged and I slipped inside her mouth, tasting her. She let out a quiet moan.

I felt that moan run through me like warm liquid and stop between my legs, waking me up. She must have felt it because she pulled away and looked at me with such intensity that I wanted to rip her clothes off right there. She pulled me in for another kiss, her mouth and tongue moving with such passionate intensity, her hands in my hair, pulling at it in desperation.

As I held myself above her with one hand, buried in the plush couch, the other moved down, tugging at the waistband of her skirt. She lifted her hips, helping me ease it off her, followed by her lace thong. Her hands reached for the clasp of my pants, our mouths never breaking apart. She quickly undid the zipper and pulled them down, my erection spilling out against her. We both wanted this now. There was no time for anything else.

I reluctantly pulled away from her kiss so I could see her face as I slipped inside her. She bit her lip in anticipation as I reached down and positioned myself against her. Her eyes never left mine as I pushed into her, a gasp escaping her mouth. I felt her tight warmth surround me. I was in utter ecstasy as I throbbed inside her. Her hands clawed at my jacket that I hadn’t bothered to take off as I pushed deeper into her until there was nowhere else to go. I let out a deep groan as I felt her pulse around me.

We lay there for a few seconds, reveling in the feeling of each other.

“More,” she whispered throatily, causing the hair on the back of my neck to rise.

And I obliged, thrusting into her again and again, never wanting it to end.

Chapter 41

Monica

As I lay in bed, my head on Troy’s chest, listening to the rise and fall of his breath, I couldn’t quite believe this was real. That he was here, in my apartment, after another bout of lovemaking. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was almost 3 p.m. It looked like we were both taking a personal day.

I lifted my head from his bare chest, inhaling his cologne and looked at him, propping myself up on my elbow. Troy opened his eyes sleepily and looked at mine before they grazed the edge of the sheet that was loosely wrapped around me.

“What are you thinking about?” I whispered.

He reached his hand over and grazed his fingertips across the thin material, making my nipples peak at his touch. My back arched at the sensation.

“I’m thinking about how much I missed this.” He pulled me closer to him, so my breasts lay bare against his tan chest.

“Haven’t you had enough?” I giggled.

“Never. It will never be enough,” he said.

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