Page 124 of When the Storm Breaks
I was floating, I was flying, chasing a high that no drug could ever give me.
My whole body was quivering, shaking uncontrollably and I didn’t even know how I was still standing.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he brought his hand down to my clit and pinched it between his fingers as he rammed into me, stealing the breath from my lungs. The orgasm crashed over me, and came in waves. Weightless. Floating. Soaring. Light splintered behind my closed eyelids, a slew of curse words flying from my lips as he slammed into me one last time, our orgasms so powerful he collapsed against my back, covering my body with his. My cheek was pressed against the sofa cushion again, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck, lacing his fingers in mine.
After a few moments of silence, our breathing ragged as we came down from the high, he said, “Fuck. If this was my last night on Earth, I would die a happy man.”
Much later, I would remember those words. That was the trouble with flying high. When you crashed, you burned.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Shiloh
On Saturday afternoonbefore my final show in Miami, Brody and I ordered room service and ate a late lunch on the balcony.
“Cat’s out of the bag. They know your name,” I said, scrolling through my phone. There were a few photos of us on social media. Yesterday afternoon Brody and I had gone jet skiing. What struck me about the photos was that I was smiling in every single one of them.
He took the phone out of my hand and set it on the table, screen down. “Stop searching the Internet for information about me.” His tone was light and teasing. But there was a tightness in his jaw that made me think he wasn’t as cool about it as he was letting on.
“I’m sorry, Brody.”
“Not your fault. It goes with the territory. Finish your salad,” he said gruffly.
I took a few more bites of grilled chicken and mango then pushed my plate away and closed my eyes, basking in the sun for a while. Chilled out. Relaxed. My bare feet propped in his lap while he kneaded them in his big, strong, healing hands.
“You’re cool with Dean, right?” I asked, eyes still closed against the sun, my face tipped up to it.
“I’m cool with it.” I cracked one lid open. He squeezed my foot. “Stop worrying about every little thing.”
“Okay. But if he gives you any trouble, you’ll tell me, right?”
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle your ex or anything else thrown my way.”
His tone of voice, so confident and certain, reassured me that it wasn’t a big deal, so I stopped worrying about it. As far as I knew, Dean and Brody had stayed out of each other’s way. There hadn’t been any drama, and for once Dean was sticking to his word. He was clean and sober, and focused on the music. Whatever he got up to before and after the show was of no concern to me.
* * *
Later that nightafter the show, Brody had given me four orgasms and now we were lying on top of the white Egyptian cotton sheets, the warm sea breeze floating through the open windows. I kissed his lips and placed my hand over his beating heart. “I love you, Cowboy.”
He placed his hand over mine and tipped his chin down to look at me. “You’ve infiltrated the cracks in my heart, and I’ll be damned if I know how to get you out.”
“Don’t even try. I want to live there forever.” He pulled me closer and I draped my leg over his. Brody’s heart was beating sure and steady under the palm of my hand, his chest rising and falling, each breath he inhaled and exhaled in sync with mine, lulling me into a sense of peace and security.
“How do you do it?” I asked while his hand coasted down my side and over the curve of my hip, settling there.
“Do what?”
“Make me feel so calm and peaceful, even in the midst of a chaotic world tour.”
“Guess I’ve always had a knack for handling wild things.”
I smiled a little and lifted my hand to his face, tracing his squared jaw, the stubble rough under my fingertips. “You think I’m wild?”
“In all the very best ways.”
A few moments later, he looked over at the bedside table. “You’re popular tonight.”
I glanced at my phone. I’d silenced it earlier, but it was lighting up with messages. “Turn it over so we can’t see it.” I was pleasantly drowsy and too lazy to move.
