He reaches behind me and unsnaps my bra, tugging it off with impatience. I just lie there on the bed, letting him have his way with me, moaning when he pulls my nipple into his mouth and sucks until I feel borderline delirious. My hands land in the softness that is his hair and I tunnel my fingers through the thick strands, tugging and pulling and moaning and basically acting the fool.
I don’t think Cannon minds, though. Actually, I’m fairly certain he’s into it. Into me.
How did I get so lucky?
I creep around the hotel room quietly, trying to pack my stuff without disturbing the sleeping princess in my bed. She’s naked save for the sheet twisted around her lower half, hair strewn across the pillow and her arms thrown above her head, the glorious perfection that are her tits on blatant display.
Distraction is not the name of the game this morning. Actually, it’s almost the afternoon, and I need to head to the airport in less than an hour.
But I don’t want to.
I already cleaned out the bathroom, shoving my toiletry bag in my suitcase. A soft little moan comes from the bed and I perk up, on high alert for another one of those sounds.
I’m gonna miss those sounds. Her. I’m gonna miss her real bad.
Giving up all pretense of packing, I climb into bed and snuggle up behind her, my cock making a tent of the towel that’s still somehow wrapped around my waist. I push it away and toss it on the floor, positioning Susanna so I can nestle my erection in the crack of her plump ass.
She stirs, rubbing her butt against my cock, and I swear my eyes cross. I grab hold of her hips to keep her still, thankful the box of condoms is on the bedside table closest to me. I might need to reach for one on a moment’s notice.
“I thought you were getting ready to leave me,” she murmurs.
Bending down, I drop a kiss on her neck. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“Hmm, I was pretending. Hoping I might wake up and find this was all just a dream.”
I’m a little disturbed by what she said. “That me and you were a dream?”
“No, that you having to leave is a dream.” She tilts her head so she can look up at me. “Can’t you just give up your life and stay here with me?”
I know she’s kidding, but I’m half tempted. Damn it, I really like this woman. A lot. Probably too much. I could say it’s just sex, but I’d be lying. There’s no denying the sex is good, yet there’s more between us.
For the first time in my life, I feel like there’s so much more.
And I can’t do anything about it.
I reach around so I can cover her breasts with my palms, kneading them gently. She practically purrs as she rubs her butt against me once more, her arms rising so she can clasp the back of my neck and thrust her boobs into my hands. She kicks the sheet away so her nakedness is completely on display, and I pause, studying her.
She’s beautiful. All lush, creamy skin and pink nipples and an even pinker pussy that tastes so damn good I can see myself getting a craving.
Screw that, I already have a craving.
I pluck at her nipples, tugging and pulling, noting how her legs scissor against mine, her body getting restless for me. Because she wants me.
Just as much as I want her.
“One last time?” I ask her, my hand drifting across her belly to settle on that needy spot between her thighs.
“Please.” Susanna spreads her legs a little, letting my fingers slip inside. She’s hot and wet, and with my other hand I reach for the open box of condoms, thankful when I get one between my fingers.
Releasing my hold on her, I open the condom wrapper and slip the rubber on, giving my cock a good tug after I roll the condom in place. I grasp her hips once more and slide in with ease, she’s so wet and used to me after all the fucking we did last night.
A moan escapes her and I close my eyes, breathing in her scent as I press my face into her hair. I keep still, my cock giving a little twitch every few seconds, urging me to get on with the show, but I don’t want to. Not yet.
I’m trying to draw this out as much as I can.
But Susanna’s impatient, and eventually, so am I. I give in to my needy dick and start pounding into her, my hands grasping as much of her ass I can, our bodies slapping against each other with my every thrust. Until we’re both groaning and coming and I shudder and shake, our mutual orgasms leaving us both gasping for air once it’s over.
The euphoric high from coming crashes in an instant when I realize that’s the last time I’ll fuck Susanna.
Maybe the last time ever.
“I need to get ready,” I tell her, pulling out of her body and heading for the bathroom so I can dispose of the condom. I keep my distance as I toss on a T-shirt and my underwear, then pull on a pair of black joggers. I gather up the rest of my clothes piled on the floor and dump them into the suitcase that’s sitting open on one of the hotel chairs.
Susanna is getting ready too. Pulling on a dark gray sweater and pair of leggings that she packed in the bag she brought with her yesterday, not even bothering with putting on a bra or a pair of panties, which surprises me. She tugs her hair back into a ponytail, her expression so forlorn that just looking at her breaks my heart.
So I keep busy and keep my focus off of her, checking my phone real quick to make sure I have my boarding pass in the airline app and that the flight hasn’t been delayed or canceled.
Unfortunately, it’s right on time.
But her mood permeates the room, and my mood is just as bad. It’s hard enough, having to leave her like this. Seeing her so sad, knowing that I’m the cause of her sadness, is not easy to deal with.
I’m zipping closed my suitcase when I feel her come up behind me, and when she wraps her arms around my waist and clings to me, her cheek pressed against my back, I heave a deep sigh, resting my hands on top of hers.
“You’ll let me know you make it home safely?” she asks, her voice quiet.
“Definitely.” I curl my fingers around hers and give them a squeeze. “We’ll keep in touch, Susanna.”
“Of course we will,” she says faintly, and I know she doesn’t believe me.
I turn to face her, cupping her cheeks in my hands, my gaze locking with hers. “I mean it. These last few days have been amazing. I promise I will never forget you.”
She laughs, but there’s no humor in the sound, and her eyes seem to glaze over with tears, though they never fall. “You talk like that and it sounds like you already have forgotten me.”
I say nothing. There’s nothing more to say. Maybe she’s right. And maybe it’s best if I do forget her. Let her go on with her life so I can also go on with mine.
Instead of saying all that, I dip my head and kiss her gently, my lips clinging to hers. “Don’t forget me,” I whisper when we finally break apart.
Another laugh escapes her, this one watery and full of emotion. “I could never.”
“Want to go with me to the airport?” I ask hopefully.
“Not a chance.” She says the words so quickly, I step away from her, startled. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stand the thought of waving goodbye to you at the airport and having to leave the place alone and…empty.”
“I can’t stand the thought of leaving you in this hotel room all alone,” I tell her, wishing she knew just how hard this entire situation is for me.
“Then let me make it easier on you.” Now it’s her turn to gather up her stuff, and she throws it all in that small duffel bag she brought, not bothering to make sure if any of her clothes are folded.
Funny, how being around her for only a few days, I already know that’s nothing like Susanna usually behaves.
“I’m going to leave first,” she tells me once she’s packed all of her belongings. Her smile is sunny bright, her eyes a little wild, her usually sleek hair curling around her face despite the ponytail. “Goodbye, Cannon. I’m so glad I got to meet you.”
I haul her into my arms before she does something crazy like
offer her hand for me to shake. She’s clinging to me again, her face pressed against my chest, and I rest my chin on top of her head, simply holding her for as long as I can.
Eventually, she pulls away, grabs hold of her duffel bag and purse, then makes her way to the door.
I’m frozen in place, watching her go, watching her walk right out of my life, and there’s this bossy ass voice in my head that sounds just like my high school football coach. It won’t stop yelling at me, saying things like,
Stop her!
Don’t let her go!
You’re just going to let her leave?
Chase after her!
Tell her to come to California with you!
I don’t say anything like that, and I don’t try and stop her either. For once in my life I’m trying to make the right and mature decision. Convincing this beautiful woman that she belongs to me is not the right choice. We both should move on.
We don’t really have any other choice but to move on.
She rests her hand on the door handle and hesitates, her back to me, and like an idiot hope rises in my chest, making my heart thump extra hard. What’s she gonna do? What’s she gonna say?
I wait in anticipation for her to speak.
She doesn’t. Glancing over her shoulder, she offers me a weak smile and a whispered goodbye, then opens the door and slips through it. It slams behind her with such force, I almost jump out of my skin.
Just like that, she’s gone.
I speed up my packing process, thankful I got a car arranged for me last night and it’ll be here in a few minutes. Once I have everything shoved into my suitcase, I’m out the door as well, riding down the elevator and letting the recent memories run through my brain like the most painful montage ever created.
I’ve had the best days of my life over the last few days, all because of a woman. A woman I’m leaving behind.
The elevator doors slide open less than a minute later, shoving me into reality. People mill about the lobby, there’s music playing and I hear horns honking on the street just outside the door. Wincing against the sudden noise and light, I stride through the cavernous lobby, keeping my head down so I won’t make eye contact with anyone, when I hear a familiar sweet voice call my name from behind me.
Whirling around, I see Susanna coming for me at full speed, her expression full of pure determination. I forget about my suitcase, abandoning it so I can run toward her, meeting her halfway. I pull Susanna into my arms and swing her around and around with my face buried in her hair, breathing her in one last time.
“I couldn’t leave you without giving you a proper goodbye,” she whispers.
I pull away so I can study her pretty face, see the tears filling her eyes, streaking down her cheeks, and my heart cracks wide open. “We can make this work.”
She blinks up at me, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“You and me. Me and you. Us. We can be together. Long distance,” I explain, not sure where this is coming from. All thoughts of doing the right thing flew right out the window, I guess.
“It would be very long distance between us. You do realize this, don’t you?”
I can’t help but laugh. “I know, baby. But I think we can make it.”
She says nothing, still blinking up at me with the tears streaming down her cheeks, and I wipe them away with my thumbs. “I think you’re completely mad.”
Mad? Oh. Right. She means crazy. “But that’s your favorite quality about me, am I right?” I grin and she rises up on tiptoe to kiss me on the mouth. I cup the back of head, keeping her there, and when I finally break the kiss, I murmur against her lips, “Tell me you want to give this a shot. That you want to be with me.”
“I don’t know…” Her voice drifts and I kiss her again. Hard and fast.
“Just say yes,” I practically demand.
She’s smiling through the tears, nodding continuously. “All right. Yes. Yes. We can make this work.”
“You’re right.” I kiss her again before she reconsiders what she just said. “We can definitely make this work.”
“This is never going to work.”
I hang my head at Evie’s words, disappointment leaving me weary. That’s the last thing I want to hear from my best friend. The moment I walked into my tiny flat, I was overwhelmed with such sadness I called Evie and begged her to meet me for dinner. She grumbled and complained and finally agreed, and now here we are, at one of our favorite restaurants in my neighborhood. We were seated quickly, the waiter giving us menus and taking our drink orders, and when he walked away, I launched into a quick rundown of my last few days spent with Cannon.
Well, almost everything. Some things are better left unsaid, you know? They’re private. Sacred to me.
Yes, I will really keep to all that private, sacred talk this time around. There’s no need for me to spill every single detail about my time with Cannon.
“You don’t think it will?” I finally ask her, my gaze locked on the menu, even though I already know what I’m going to order.
“Susanna, be realistic. He lives in San Francisco, you live here. He’s a celebrity, you’re the daughter of an earl, but you’re not a celebrity. Well. Perhaps you are, but not like he is. Right? Or am I wrong...” Her voice drifts and I lift my head to find her watching me.
“I’m definitely not a celebrity. I’m no Meghan Markle,” I practically sputter, making Evie laugh.
“Right. Okay. Well, he makes millions, and most likely gets endorsements for posing in underwear or something along those lines. And there are probably loads of beautiful women throwing their panties at him on a daily basis. Without you around, he will slip up. He’s a man. That’s what they do,” Evie explains, smiling up at the server when he brings her the dirty martini she requested earlier. “Thank you, you’re a doll.”
He smiles in return, puffing up his chest.
I say nothing, just glower at both of them until he finally flees.
“He’s not a cheater,” I say, watching as she gulps down the dirty martini like she’s been wandering the desert for the last month and finally came upon an oasis. “He told me he’s over that whole football groupie scene.”
Evie practically snorts into her drink, then sets it on the table. “Of course he’ll tell you that. He’s saying what you want to hear.”
She doubts all men after having a few bad experiences. Okay, some of them were really bad, awful experiences, but she doesn’t have the best taste. It’s the wildness in her—all that spontaneity is bound to get you in trouble sometimes, right?
“He’s not a liar either,” I say in his defense, but she doesn’t answer me. Just shoots me a look that I’m full of crap. “And besides, I was ready to let him go.”
I was. Really. I walked out of that hotel room with my head held high and my tongue firmly between my teeth. I wasn’t going to beg and plead, and I wasn’t about to make any outrageous suggestions.
I cried in the elevator. And I cried in the lobby. Then I waited, fully planning on torturing myself while I watched him leave the hotel without any knowledge that I was lurking there like some sort of deranged stalker.
When I saw him, my chest grew tight. My heart raced. I even became dizzy. The misery was etched all over his face, leaving him looking raw and vulnerable, and I went into pure survival mode.
I chased after him like a loon and somehow it turned into us committing to each other. He asked me to be his girlfriend, and I agreed. Still can’t quite believe I did that, either.
“Ready to let him go, my arse.” Evie snorts again, and I wonder when she developed this unappealing habit. “You planned that entire fiasco.”
“It wasn’t a fiasco, and I didn’t plan it.” I love Evie, but sometimes she’s too honest. “Humor me for a bit. Tell me I did the right thing.”
“Yes. You did the right thing.” She waves a hand, rolls her eyes. Takes another slurp from her martini glass. “It’s not going to end well, Susanna. You two will have this farce o
f a long-distance relationship, you’ll go over to California at least once and he’ll show you Disneyland and Alcatraz and all that shit, and maybe he’ll come back over here and meet the family, which will end him right there, but we won’t focus on that right now. Anyway, you’ll pretend that you’re in a relationship and tell everyone your boyfriend is that hot footballer, and then some gossip site will have a photo of him with some trashy bleached blonde American girl hanging all over him. She’s nineteen and the coach’s daughter and they’ll get married. The end.”
I blink at her, startled by her words, hating how they swirl around in my brain like she just spoke the truth.
She plucks the toothpicked-olive out of her drink and waves it at me before popping it in her mouth. “You know that’s how it’ll happen,” she says as she chomps on the olive.
A shudder moves through me. Both at the rude way she’s speaking to me and the fact that she’s eating with her mouth full. “It will not.”
“Fine, it won’t. You two will suffer through your long-distance relationship and eventually come out on the other side. He’ll ask you to marry him, you’ll say yes, and your mother will convince your father to cut you from the family inheritance. Thank God the footballer is rich or else you’d really be in a pickle.”
“Evie,” I scold, leaning across the table so I can hiss at her and not scream like I really want to. “Why are you being so negative?”
“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” she says, mimicking me so that she’s leaning across the table too. “This won’t end well. You’re just too—lovesick to see it.”
“You think I’m in love with him?” It’s like I want to hear her say that very thing.
“I don’t know. Are you?” Her brows shoot up.
The server chooses that exact time to show up at our table, and we give him our order, me deciding on water versus any sort of alcohol to drink. I need to get some actual sleep tonight, and drowning my happy/sadness in liquor isn’t the answer.
Thinking About You Page 11
