And watching the queen on her knees in front of me licking my come off her lips? It was so fucking hot I almost died.
My heart wasn’t so used to this shit. If I wasn’t careful, it was gonna blow out like a tire taking a corner too damn fast.
But I couldn’t pull myself back.
I couldn’t put the brakes on.
I didn’t even want to.
I grabbed her face in my hands, leaned down and licked the rest of my come off her face with a swipe of my tongue, then kissed her. We made out like that for a good minute or so, hyperventilating as we devoured each other. I didn’t even think about it. It wasn’t some fantasy of mine to eat my own come off a woman’s face or out of her mouth… but with her, there were no limits.
I just dove right in.
The sex between us was raw and uncensored, naked and free. Any time I pushed some limit, she pushed right back and drove me over another line.
What line?
There were no lines.
Her body and mine just kept fusing, fucking… invading one another’s without hesitation or mercy.
And there was no end in sight.
When we were finally so spent that we sagged against each other, gasping for breath, I pulled her up and took her to the bed. I dropped her on it, then sprawled across it with a groan.
She laughed. “Holy fuck,” she moaned. “Do I have work to do.”
“Huh?” I looked at her. Was that a statement or a question?
She wasn’t falling into bed with me, just sitting on the edge, breathing heavily.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, as she got up. I reached for her feebly, but she pulled on a robe and headed to the bathroom.
She smiled at me from the doorway. “You are way too distracting, Ronan Sterling,” she sighed, but she was still smiling. She sounded breathless and tired, but determined. “You know I’ve got a big show at the Pandora tomorrow night. I need to work on my set list and prepare.”
“Oh. That.”
She laughed again. “Yeah. That.”
“Is that still happening…?”
“Afraid so. Go order us a meal or something, would you? I’m fucking famished.”
“Didn’t we eat already?”
“That was a million hours ago.”
I sighed. “Okay.” But I didn’t get up right away. I watched her disappear into the bathroom and shut the door.
Then I tried to remember what the fuck I was doing here.
Oh, yeah.
Bodyguard duty.
I’d barely even given that a thought the last few days. We were in our cave together, safe, where nothing else mattered.
It felt like nothing else even existed.
But it did exist.
I felt fucking drunk as I staggered out of bed. I made a mental note not to bill Brody for the last three days, because come the fuck on.
No work had been done. I was fucking naked and glutting myself on my client’s pussy ninety-percent of the time.
I had to look at the clock to see what time it was. And when I saw it was just after nine, I actually had to ask myself if it was nine a.m. or p.m.
I glanced at the curtains that were shut over the windows. Too dark out to be nine a.m..
I gathered some clothes that I found on the floor. There were a bunch of them strewn around, everything lying right where we’d shed it. Summer’s clothes were everywhere, too.
They’d been on the floor longer than they’d been on our bodies.
Probably needed a day to tidy up and maybe turn our attention to other things. Like making sure we had some groceries, and actually eating some more. We’d been surviving on two meals a day, too busy having sex and sleeping to bother with eating properly.
I wondered when the cleaning lady was coming again.
As I got dressed, I could hear the sounds of Summer’s shower and the music she had playing in the bathroom, some happy pop/dance song. Nelly Furtado. Hey, I was from Vancouver; I knew who Nelly Furtado was. I could hear Summer singing along, and when I caught my reflection in the mirror over her dresser, I was smiling.
I looked at myself, and the smile faded.
And I asked myself what the fuck I was doing.
Was I falling in love?
I wasn’t sure. After the whirlwind we’d just been through together, I couldn’t even think straight.
I went downstairs to order us some food. Summer said she was hungry, so I’d focus on that. I’d feed her, and then she’d go to work down in her studio, getting ready for her show tomorrow night.
She’d get lost in the zone, doing her thing.
I’d check my messages and return calls, and maybe I’d work out or something. I’d take a much needed shower.
Then I’d go to bed. In her bed.
And when Summer joined me in the middle of the night, exhausted from work, I’d roll over and slide myself slowly inside her as she gasped my name in that way she did.
I’d make love to her in the dark, and maybe I’d ask myself that question again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ronan
I woke up to a text from an unknown number.
Meet at Poco Tap & Grill. 10am
It was signed: Fonda.
I stared at it for a moment, trying to make sense of it.
The only “Fonda” I could think of was Peter Fonda. As in the movie star, who famously played a biker in Easy Rider?
Either that, or it meant Jane Fonda, which made even less sense.
I groaned and slid out of Summer’s bed, trying not to wake her as I got up and headed downstairs.
I searched “Poco Tap & Grill” in my map app, and as I’d expected, “Poco” meant Port Coquitlam. It was over half an hour away, if traffic was good on the highway.
So I called Andre in to cover for me. He was working an event tonight, but he could use the extra hours. I told him to arrive at Summer’s by nine-fifteen.
Then I took a
