Page 33 of Roar Letter Word

“Ms. Swanson?”

Ruzyll had emerged sneakily from the side door, which seemed to be his way, intruding upon her reverie. She smiled at him from the chair she lounged in, clad in her polka-dot bikini with her arms raised over her head.

“Yes, Ruzyll?” she said, smiling her charming way.

“You have a visitor. Someone from Earth.”

Addie’s heart beamed with light. She had no idea that anyone was coming to visit her. She sat up in her chair and swung her legs onto the padding, rising to her feet. She didn’t realize how much she had longed for home until that very moment when her knees became weak, and she ached for familiarities.

The human that emerged into the sunlight was Addie’s manager, Bruce Brandt. Addie watched him awkwardly doddle out, squinting at the sight of the two suns and the stifling heat, then finally take heed of her standing there.

He was older than her, but not by very much. The music industry had aged him, causing his hairline to recede like a regressing shoreline, but otherwise, he was pretty sturdy. He had helped her climb the ladder of success and had dealt with all of the practical bullshit a creative like her was easily affected by. He had her best interest at heart as far as she knew, anyway.

“Sweetheart!” Bruce called out.

Addie ran to him, not even taking a moment to throw on her wrap. She embraced him, tucking her arms beneath his, and pulled him in close for a tight squeeze. He swathed his arms around her head and kissed her hair, cackling just like old times.

“Lord, you are literally on fire, woman!” he said jubilantly, pulling her from him and giving Addie the once-over. “Now, let’s take a look at you.”

Addie giggled, then spun around, popping her hip out and flashing her signature sensual smolder. It didn’t occur to her at that moment that Mahes wouldn’t be nuts about her being playful with another man, but Bruce wasn’t just another man. They had grown close through her trials and tribulations of celebrity and fame.

“God, you are a dream, Addie! You must tell me, what is in the water here?”

He laced his arm around her neck, draping it over her shoulders as they walked to the patio furniture. While they were greeting one another, a servant had brought them lavender lemonade. They sat opposite each other, and Ruzyll poured them each a drink into a pristine glass of ice.

“I’m not too sure,” Addie said, throwing her wrap over her shoulders before settling down. “But whatever it is, it's working.”

Bruce had his sunglasses on and pushed them up once they were in the shade. He raised his eyebrows at her, his gray and tired eyes swirling.

“Have you been writing?”

Addie was quick to shake her head, then took it back, moving her hand in a so-so motion.

“Sort of. I’m letting it marinate for now. I’ve been a little busy …”

Addie felt a hot rush of excitement wash over her body. She had never been so properly fucked in her entire life, nor so consistently. And it wasn’t just sex.

She felt like he completed her, both in and out of the bedroom. It seemed like he could read her mind and knew exactly what she wanted and what she was feeling. It was something no other man had ever been able to do. If she were being honest, she supposed it was something no other man had ever eventriedto do.

Mahes was hot, but he was also sweet. He wanted what was best for her, and he made a genuine effort to figure out what that was, even if it required a bit of work on his part. The men Addie had dated in the past had all been more interested in what they could take than what they could give.

Mahes gave and then gave some more. And when it came to their bedroom activities, he wasmorethan generous.

It was rather extraordinary.

Bruce cackled as Addie bit down on her finger, memories of incredible sex echoing through the rooms of her mind. Bruce raised the lemonade to his mouth, twiddling his eyebrows for added effect.

“Sex can be a wonderful stimulant for creative work,” he said.

Addie was getting herself lost in her lustful musings, so she sat up in the chair, craning her neck at Bruce as he polished off the glass of brightly tinted juice.

“Wait, why are you here? Did Gerri call you?”

Bruce shook his head, gulping down the last of the lavender delight. He poured himself some more from the pitcher with a smirk on his face.

“Gerri was the one that called me, yes, but it wasn’t her idea that I come here. It was that man of yours. He thought you might need a taste of home to lift your spirits.”

Addie felt even more enthralled. She thought she had hidden her sadness well enough from the king, especially with the use of her body. She felt another rush of that hot sensation, feeling considered and thought of beyond what she had expressed in words.

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