Page 8 of A Love Song for Dreamers

I want to flip her over and drive into her until I’m so deep she’ll never get me out. I want to spread her wide and eat her until the only word she knows is myname.

Ican’t.

So, I let her fuckme.

“Harder,” Igrunt.

She resists, licking down the underside of my dick while giving me a little squeeze at thebottom.

“You’re saying you don’t like this?” she teases before pulling my head into her mouth and suckingslowly.

I groan. “Annie.” There’s arousal in my voice, but the frustration has her brows pulling together. “Quit dickingaround.”

With a moment’s hesitation, she moves back down my body and there’s no dicking around this time. She fists me with both hands and takes me as far down as shecan.

Yes. This is what Ineed.

I needher.

I need this moment. Everything’s okay in thismoment.

I catch her hair in my hand, twist it behind her head to keep it out of her way—and to tug on her, to pretend I’m dragging her toward the inevitable conclusion of this when she’s the one draggingme.

A piece falls back in her face, and I capture it, tugging it into the makeshift ponytail. Doing that jerks the necklace out from under hershirt.

The rose and thering.

My hearttwists.

I’m so close to coming, and the blood rushes in my veins as thoughts rush to the surface of my mind. They’re incongruent, but theyfeeltrue.

I wish she’d never kept thatrose.

I wish I’d put that ring on herfinger.

I wish I hadn’t stayed with my dad in the hospital and bailed on my firstcontract.

I wish I’d made us take a cabhome.

I wish I’d never let her talk me into believing I could be more than Iam.

When I come, she takes everything—my release and my anger and mydevastation.

As I sag back into the cushions, Annie settles herself on my thighs once again. She kisses me, and I taste my own salt mixed withher.

“How does it feel now?” she asks, pullingback.

It sounds like a casual question, but it’s not. She needs to make me whole again. It might as well be scrawled on her cheek, words she wroteherself.

“Better,” Ilie.

It’s the one gift I can give her, and we’ve lost enough thisweek.

3

“Tellme why you want this job busting your ass for people who couldn’t care less if you were born unless you forget the refill on theirPellegrino.”

Beck’s rapid-fire question has me leaning across the kitchen table in his and Tyler’sapartment.

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