by Cate Ashwood
I kissed him hard, the finesse long gone as I licked into his mouth to taste him. Reaching between us, I fisted his cock and jacked him roughly, swallowing his moans as he responded to me. I wanted to watch him come, watch the peak of pleasure spread across his face, but the second I felt his body tense around me, it pushed me over with him and my eyes involuntarily squeezed shut. His body spasmed around me, drawing out my own orgasm, and I pumped into him, shallow thrusts as I filled up the condom inside him.
Opening my eyes, I saw Brody smiling back at me, looking slightly drunk. His lips were swollen, his hair a mess and his eyes glazed over, but above all that, he looked as happy as I felt.
Carefully, I pulled out and Brody watched me with heavy-lidded eyes as I collapsed down on the bed next to him. I rolled onto my back to catch my breath, my heart pounding like I’d jumped off a fucking building. I speared my fingers through my hair, which was now soaked with sweat, as the realization dawned on me that what we’d just done had been the best sex I’d ever had.
My cock twitched in a valiant effort to get hard again, but there was no way it was happening.
We lay together in the dim light of my bedroom, the only sound the rasp of our breathing as we came down from the high together. I inched my hand closer, just enough to brush against his knuckles with my own.
I shouldn’t have needed that physical connection, but I did. It was as though if I wasn’t touching him, there’d be nothing to anchor us together and I might float away. Closing my eyes, I let the afternoon wash over me. He was quiet next to me, and I hoped he was feeling the same sense of out-of-the-blue tenderness I was.
It had come out of nowhere—hell, three hours ago, I hadn’t known Brody existed—but now, I could feel myself getting attached, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
“When do you fly back?”
The question came out low, quiet, as though we were still living in this reverent space, an intimate moment created by the sex that had completely blown my world apart. My eyes slid over the curve of Brody’s body, partially covered by the airy linen sheet.
I wasn’t one for relationships. My lifestyle didn’t allow for deep connections—or connections that lasted longer than a night or two anyway—but for the first time, maybe ever, I was tempted to take it beyond all that. I had no idea who Brody was as a person. We hadn’t exactly spent a ton of time talking… but the little I did know about him, I liked.
And he was leaving.
But that was probably for the best.
I wanted him again already, even though our breathing had only just returned to normal. If this is how I felt after a few hours with him, days or even weeks were likely to kill me.
“Monday morning,” he said, breaking me out of my unbidden thoughts of taking this beyond the weekend.
“I wish you were staying longer.” The words were out of my mouth before I’d even realized it had been me who’d spoken.
“Me too.” It sounded like an admission made in secret, his voice hushed and his words a little slow, like I’d fucked the ability to think straight right out of him. “I gotta be at work on Friday, though. We’re sailing out for the next two months.”
“Sailing out?”
“I work on a crab boat. We’re offshore for weeks at a time, and our time off in between is shorter than any of the guys would like, but that’s the job.”
“You enjoy it?”
His schedule sounded as hectic as mine. I’d told myself to keep things anonymous, not to get caught up in any details, not to let him know anything about me, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to hear about his life, to get to know him a little bit before I said goodbye and probably never saw him again.
“Most of the time. It’s one of the better jobs you can get in my area. The pay is good, and the guys I work with are mostly awesome.”
“You’re from Alaska? Originally, I mean.”
He turned onto his side, his head cradled in his elbow. “Born and raised. Small town on the coast called Sawyer’s Ferry.”
“You like it there?” I couldn’t seem to curb the questions, but he didn’t seem all that bothered answering them.
“Well enough, I guess. I’ve always lived there… haven’t had the chance to travel much. Maybe one day I’ll move somewhere else.” He draped his arm across his chest. “I dunno. I guess I figured I have lots of time to figure it out.”
“What’s Sawyer’s Ferry like?”
“Small. It’s not remote, but it feels like it. No roads in and out. You gotta go by air or sea.”
I tried to imagine what it would be like to live in a place like that. “That sounds… inconvenient.”
He laughed. “It can be, but we’re all pretty used to it. Hardly anyone who lives in Sawyer’s Ferry is from somewhere else.”
“So when you say small town, you mean small town.”
“Very, but it’s home, I guess.”
I pulled him close again, just wanting to touch him a little and not wanting to dwell on what would happen come Monday. Thinking about real life intruding, the hectic pace of the months to come, made my stomach knot.
Being an actor was a dream come true. Thousands of people would have killed to be in my position, and I was grateful that life had led me to this place. I really couldn’t have asked for anything more, but every once in a while, I thought about what it would be like if I’d never gone to that audition—the one that had launched me into stardom. I felt like an ass for taking what I had for granted, but sometimes it was nice to pretend I was normal.
And with Brody, for the first time since I could remember, I was with someone who didn’t make me feel like a commodity rather than a person. So maybe it was selfish, but I wanted to stay tucked away in this little cocoon of obscurity, oblivious to the outside world and the responsibilities waiting for us.
Hours later, after two more orgasms each, we ventured out of my room in search of food. Brody borrowed some clothes, since the only ones he had were currently sitting in a wet pile in my shower downstairs.
As we entered the kitchen, I realized the sun had partially set and Brody had been at my place all day. As easy as it would have been to make some excuse and send him home, I found I didn’t want to.
“You got plans for tonight?” I asked, pulling up my go-to list of takeout menus onto the screen of my tablet and handing it over to Brody to decide.
He shook his head. “No plans at all until Monday.”
“Good.”
There didn’t seem to be any need to say anything beyond that. I think we both understood what this was. It was a short-term arrangement, but it was one I wasn’t willing to end just yet.
I wanted to squeeze every drop of time I could out of Brody, keep him hostage in my bed for as long as I could, and then when it came time for him to go, I’d kiss him goodbye and that would be it.
There was something so simple about it, about the freedom of so quick an end, and it made things easier, too. There was a part of me that felt as though I was lying to him, avoiding the topic of what I did for a living, but I couldn’t help but embrace the fact that he didn’t know who I was. It was freeing that I could just be me with him for a while and not worry about the expectations or the other complications that came with dating while famous.
Chapter Five
Brody
I was such a fucking idiot.
The best two nights of my whole goddamn life, and I didn’t even ask the guy for his number.
I supposed it was pointless, anyway. I’d managed a colossal two trips to California over the course of twenty-one years. It wasn’t like I was a frequent flyer and stopping in to see Beck was just a casual thing.
But still.
Fuck me, things with him had been good. Amazingly good.
I’d lost count of the number of orgasms, the number of times he’d made me so blind with pleasure I’d forgotten who I was. I craved him like an addict needing a fix, but maybe it was for the best I kept him in the realm of
fantasy. The weekend had been perfect, and dragging it out beyond that might have tainted the memory.
I settled back in my seat as the plane’s wheels left the tarmac, and my stomach dropped out as we became airborne. Once the pilot had turned off the seat belt sign, I dug through my backpack for my headphones and plugged them into the jack on the armrest. The little screen embedded in the seat in front of me looked like it had something unidentifiable crusted in the corners, but the five-and-a-half-hour trek home would be slightly less painful with entertainment.
I loaded up the first movie I found, and as the opening scene flashed in front of my eyes, I nearly jumped out of my seat.
“Jesus Christ,” I said, leaning forward and squinting, sure that my sex-hormone-soaked brain was making me see things that weren’t really there.
But sure enough, plain as day, right there in the middle of the fucking screen was Beck.
“Are you all right?” The woman next to me was looking at me like she thought I might be in the beginning stages of a psychotic break.
“I’m fine,” I assured her. “Do you know who that is?”
I pointed to the screen, and a smile split her face. “Of course. That’s Beckett Alexander.”
“Beckett Alexander,” I repeated.
“My daughter once met him in line at the Whole Foods. He autographed her canvas tote. It made her whole week. That thing is still hanging on the wall over her bed…”
The woman continued to talk, but I phased her out, my eyes locked on the screen in front of me where the guy whose dick had been inside me less than twelve hours earlier was now kicking the ever-loving shit out of a pack of bodyguards.
A thousand memories flooded back as I watched him stand over a pile of bodies, a self-satisfied look on his face. I’d seen the same one hours before as he’d made me come without touching my cock.
Why the fuck hadn’t he told me who he was?
I wasn’t sure if I felt betrayed or not. Beck had technically been a casual hookup. He didn’t owe me shit.
I exhaled and settled back into my seat, my eyes trained on the small screen in front of me. I tried to push the memories of him from my head. There was no point in getting worked up.
I was never going to see him again.
Look for these titles by Cate Ashwood
Sawyer’s Ferry Series
Alaska
Zero Hour Series
A Forced Silence
A Fallen Heart
A Forgotten Life (Coming Soon)
Hope Cove Series
Brokenhearted
Wholehearted
Ironhearted
Newport Boys Series
Keeping Sweets
Resurrecting Elliott
Standalone Stories
Home Skillet
When the Devil Wants In
Textual Relations
Married for a Month
The Mistletoe Effect
His Fairy Godfather
Thirty Things
Tasting Notes
The Storm Before the Calm
Bloom Box (Heartsville)
Brick by Brick
Five Ways a Boy Can Break Your Heart
Riding the Board
About the Author
Cate discovered her love for books of all kinds early on, but romance is where her heart truly lies. She is addicted to the happily ever afters and the journey the characters take to get there. Currently residing in White Rock, B.C, Cate loves living just a stone's throw from the ocean. When she's not writing, she can be found consuming coffee at an alarming rate while wrangling her children, her husband, and their two cats.
Cate loves to hear from readers. You can contact her at [email protected] or on her website http://www.cateashwood.com.
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