“What were you saying again?” I asked, attempting to jog her memory and take the heat off.
A shiver ran through her and she shook her head. “Oh, right. I hate watching interviews with people who are out of breath. Like when a reporter asks an athlete a question right after he finishes swimming the 1,500-meter freestyle.”
“Yeah, that sucks. Who wants to hear panting unless it’s porn?”
“Exactly,” she said, chuckling.
“Okay, how about this one? I hate seeing one shoe on the side of the road. How does that even happen? I mean to those people I ask, what’s the rest of your life like?”
“Preach,” she said, running her fingers along my jawline. “We’re like a matching pair of socks.”
“Or Mac and Cheese.”
“Peterpan and Tinkerbell.”
“Eeww… I like SpongeBob and Patrick better.”
“Or…” She eyed me coyly. “Here’s one you are particularly familiar with—Ken and Barbie.”
I laughed out loud. “Is that a dig at my action figure?”
“Of course not.” Dipping her head to my chest, she giggled in the most endearing way. “But can I just say… your Barbie’s so dang pretty.”
“I hate everyone,” I complained, but without an ounce of irritation. I pulled her closer, holding on with an exuberance I hadn’t felt in years.
Her laughter was contagious, and I was willing to catch her disease. I wanted so much more from her than just a quick lay. I could have that anytime. But this feeling of being close to someone who knew how to turn the light on inside me even during a blackout—I owed it to myself to see where it might go.
I was convinced Alexander Easton, the person I was born to be, would’ve taken a chance on a girl like Breeze. And so would I.
Better late than never.
Closing the final inches between us, my lips hovered unwaveringly close to hers.
Breeze accepted the invitation, leaning into me, a response I hadn’t expected but welcomed with the wonder of a small boy sampling his first piece of candy.
Was this what people meant by chemistry?
I gently stroked the baby soft skin of her cheeks, not sure if I’d ever felt something so inviting. And when my fingers sank into her hair, Breeze gripped the back of my neck and pulled me in. My lips crashed into hers, my whole body sizzling as the current pulsed between us, every nerve in my body firing in rapid succession. If this was how a kiss was supposed to feel, then clearly I’d been doing it wrong all these years.
A seductive little moan parted her lips and, as she tipped back, the radiant glow of her hair created a halo, prompting me to lose all perspective. I was officially her slave, willing to do whatever it took to keep this feeling alive forever.
I made another go at her mouth, and she yielded, our tongues jockeying furiously for position. For dominance.
This feeling. This connection. This is what I’d been searching a lifetime to find.
And then suddenly I was on top of her. Were we doing this? She hadn’t wanted sex. That’s what she’d said. But those sexy legs wrapped around my waist begged to differ. She was a tornado, an unstoppable force.
My mouth slid from hers before I got sucked into the vortex. “Breeze…tell me what you want.”
She had to say it. Because as much as I wanted her, I needed to know she felt the same.
A moment passed. And then another. And just when I was about to pull away, her lashes fluttered and she met my gaze with soft eyes.
“You.”
12
Breeze: The Morning After
Morning light streamed through the window, rousing me from sleep. I took a few moments to orient myself and figure out the tangle of bodies, human and otherwise. On my left, Bodhi Beckett, international popstar – yes, I was still trying to wrap my brain around that one - lay sprawled on his stomach, arms and legs stretched in every direction. Reaching behind me, I found the shirt I’d forcibly ripped from his body.
Nice work there, Breeze. So much for self-control!
He’d found the yoga pants sometime during the night. Probably to keep from getting ogled if I happened to wake up first.
Good call.
Heat flooded my cheeks as I recalled our brief, yet intense moments together. He’d worked me up into a frenzy of lust so by the time he’d posed the sex question, I was too far gone to offer anything more than a yes.
We’d barely gotten the condom in place before it was all tangled limbs and soft moans as he thrust wildly. Faster. Harder. More intense than anything I’d ever felt. I’d never felt more connected or more reckless in all my life. Quaking fury pulsed between us until we’d both collapsed in a spent tangle.
As weirdly disturbing as it sounded, I now understood what my lovemaking guru of a mother was talking about when she went on and on about the health benefits of good, unhinged fornication. Typically I just tuned her out because, number one, who wanted to hear that crap coming out of their mother’s mouth? And, number two, I’d never had an experience to match what my mother droned on about at length, so why bother listening?
See, Brandon had never been what you would call interactive. He was my first and I didn’t know any differently, so I’d accepted his ‘when he was done, we were done’ version of sex at face value.
But last night, I finished before Bodhi. Twice. And I was still enjoying the effects a full five hours later.
My gaze continued to skim Bodhi’s body before finally landing on his face. It was framed by dark, messy hair that touched down to his shoulders. At present, it was carelessly flipped over his forehead like a wave ready to be surfed. And although his show stopping eyes were sealed in slumber, I was certain the memory of their brilliance would be etched into my brain forever. So blue, like an arctic pond.
The man was blessed with beauty, all right.
No wonder his Barbie was getting so much action on YouTube.
Bodhi shifted, drawing my attention to his sculpted back and muscled arms. I was about to scoot closer and get a better look at my brand spankin’ new celebrity screw buddy, but Hercules, with his hundred plus pound body, was lying across my feet, essentially trapping me in place.
And I wasn’t the only human to become an animal pillow during the night either. Lucy had taken up residence at the small of Bodhi’s back, her head actually resting on the dips and swells of his impressive rump. Such a smart cat. I wished I’d thought of that first.
Rounding out our interspecies orgy was Sweatpea, lounging in his spot of honor on the pillow between Bodhi and me. The furry jerk stretched happily in his sleep, face to face with his newly discovered favorite person. I, of course, got the butt end of the deal.
I smiled at the absurdity of the situation I found myself in now. Women plotted a lifetime to spend the night with the guy currently dribbling on my pillow, and all I had to do was fling myself in front of his fast-moving vehicle during a firestorm to get in his pants. Not a bad trade off if you asked me. When it came right down to it, a full body cast wouldn’t have been too steep a price to pay for my current view.
I mean, let’s be honest here, Bodhi wasn’t just famous… he was smokin’ hot famous. So much so that I was never going to wash these sheets again. He was worth the cost of buying a new set. And this view, right here, was worth every penny.
I wasn’t exactly sure how Bodhi had gone from an untouchable heartthrob to an actual human being in such a short period of time, but I was sure it had something to do with the way he’d opened up to me so effortlessly. I suspected it took a moment of vulnerability for someone like Bodhi to distinguish himself as one of us common folk. That was the downside to celebrity. They were forced to hide behind a wall of fame to protect themselves from the overeager interest of fans that didn’t see them as people. The fire had forced Bodhi out into the open, exposing him for who he really was… just a man with a knack for taming out-of-control dogs and impressing females with goose eggs on their foreheads.
It made me wonder what
else was everyday and ordinary about him. Certainly, he had the same desires as any man. He’d proven that last night in every way that counted and if I dialed up the sexy this morning, I knew I could have him again. I mean what guy would turn down a free invitation for morning sex? I’m talking the kind that occurs before the trip to the bathroom.
Unplanned. Unbridled. Unsanitary.
Oh yeah. He’d be into it. And judging by the way my body was heating up, so would I.
But then what? Where did we go from here? Was he going to stick around now that I’d already played my trump card? Of course not. Bodhi had probably slipped on those lady sweats in the middle of the night in order to have a head start out of my life the moment his eyes opened for the day.
I wanted to be more than just his one-night stand, yet that’s what I’d relegated myself to by acting like a horndog humping my way through a citywide blackout. I was now going to have to pay the price for my embarrassing lack of impulse control because, if there was one universal truth about rock stars, it was that you didn’t ask one of his caliber, a guy who had his pick of pretty much any eligible female of childbearing age, to actively engage in the wooing process. They weren’t boyfriends. They were bed buddies – nothing more and nothing less.
So then why was my brain not believing that? Why did I expect more from him despite the fact that all indicators pointed in one shaky direction? I’ll tell you why. Because my mother and stepfather had always made me feel I was special enough to alter the very fabric of the universe. There was nothing I couldn’t do, and that included changing the whoring ways of big name celebrities. I’ll admit the altar-dumping had dampened my resolve but it didn’t change the core of who I was inside, and that was a woman who believed I was worthy of the very best. Ugh, the curse of high self-esteem. Thanks Mom!
Still, if I thought logically about this, there were some indicators that blinked positive. The first was we hadn’t met at a concert or passing on the street. Thrown together during the scariest moment of both of our lives, our connection had been accelerated into overdrive. There was nothing like surviving countywide destruction together.
Sure, to an outsider, it sounded ridiculous to pin my romantic hopes and dreams on a popstar with teen dream hair, but there were exceptions to the rule and I planned on being one of them.
Staring up at the ceiling, I played the night back in my mind, sifting through the memories —the good, the bad, the terrifying and the orgasmic.
I hadn’t been imagining our connection. It was there and with every touch and every word spoken, Bodhi had shown me who he was. If I were just a throwaway girl, why would he risk his privacy on me? Something had kept him here last night and the hopeless romantic, undying optimist in me wanted to believe it was more than just a warm bed.
The flashing light on the microwave snagged my attention.
What the…?
Was that…?
Oh my god!
The electricity was back on!
“Herc, move!” I demanded, struggling to get out from under him. He was dead weight and it took a fighting spirit just to free my feet enough to sit up. “Jesus, dog, you take ‘bed hog’ to a whole other level.”
Nudging Bodhi, I whispered in his ear. “I have a surprise for you.”
He grunted but remained in his prone and groggy state.
“Guess what’s back on?” I said in a sing-song voice. “The power, baby!”
Bodhi’s eyes flew open and he blinked at me. “Wha …? The power?”
“Uh-huh. Come on, sleepyhead.” I bounced in my spot. “Wake up so we can flick all the light switches on and off repeatedly just because we can.”
He shifted, then went stone still, his petrified gaze finding mine. “What’s on my back?”
“Lucy.”
“Remind me what animal that is again.”
“The cat.”
“Oh, fuck. Thank god.”
“Why? Did you think I let the rats loose on you?”
He groaned, his eyes drifting shut once more. Apparently, the cat, the lights, and me weren’t enough to keep Bodhi’s interest. Yep, this was going to take a little charm on my part. Bending down to within an inch of his face, I hummed a happy little tune until he could no longer ignore my bumblebee like presence.
This time when his lids fluttered open, I assaulted him with my biggest brightest smile. “Hi again. In case you forgot, my name is Breeze and I’m your fire buddy from last night.”
“Yes, I remember you.” He smiled. “The girl with the forehead boner.”
My hand flew to the bump. After all the gushing I’d just done in my head for him, the first thing he remembered about me was my protruding knot?
Way to make an impression, Breeze.
Jumping out of bed, I stared down at him with a condemning glare.
“Was it something I said?” He shifted onto his side. I watched the cat slide off his back. Propping on his elbow, he treated me to a nice view of his impressive rack of firm, defined abs.
Oh yeah, that was… wow. Yep.
My gaze inadvertently dipped lower, and I was visually assaulted by the party in his skintight pants. Momentarily losing my train of thought, I couldn’t recall why I’d jumped to my feet so quickly in the first place.
“Can you please put that away?” Confused, he looked around. “Your dick, doofus,” I huffed. “It’s all up in my face.”
Bodhi laughed. “I think you would know if my dick was up in your face. Besides, this is your fault.”
Mine? Well, damn he did remember me. Way to go, Girl! I was super flattered. I mean, even with a pregnancy pouch between my eyes, he still found me attractive enough this morning to create a pup tent in his pants.
“I told you these leggings were too tight. I’ve got no room for my junk.”
Wow, okay. He still had room to grow. I mean last night I hadn’t stopped to consider size, but okay. Impressive. Focus, Breeze… on something other than…
“You alright there, Pinocchio?” he asked with a smirk.
My cheeks ignited and I spun for the bathroom so I could examine my forehead erection, but Bodhi caught my wrist.
“I’m kidding. Where are you going?”
“Where do you think I’m going, jerk?” I shook loose of his hold. “Now that you’ve made me aware of the monstrosity on my forehead, I need to see for myself what I’m dealing with.”
A mischievous smile stretched wide across his face. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“You think this is funny?”
“No.” He pressed his lips together, trapping a chuckle.
“All right, go ahead and have your fun but we’ll just see who’ll be the last one laughing, because this right here,” I pointed to my knobby knoll, “is street cred. What do you have to show for last night? Huh? Yoga pants?”
Bodhi looked down, checking for battle wounds and imperfections. But even the singed ends of his hair looked like a hip new fashion statement. Satisfied he’d come out of the night unscathed, he shrugged.
“Just what I thought, poser. You’ve got nothing.”
“Damn girl! You’re all spicy this morning,” he said, grabbing me again. Only this time his grip was like iron and he pulled me on top of him. “Are you always like this or is the extra blood flow to your brain altering your personality?”
That’s it.
Scowling, my fingers found the sensitive skin on the sides of his stomach and I dug in. Bodhi giggled like a schoolgirl and I’d nearly managed to get an ‘Uncle’ out of those full, sexy lips when the hunk of a man turned the tables, pinning me to my back. I squealed my approval and soon we were both panting and laughing. Then, out of nowhere, the silly kindergarten fun shifted into something decidedly more sexual. His lips found mine, tongue sweeping inside my mouth with urgent strokes.
Digging my fingers into his cloth-covered ass cheeks, I yanked him against me, drawing a loud moan from deep in his throat. Our bodies were a single stitch, united in desire. P
ure, unbridled instinct took over.
This was happening again and, afterwards this wouldn’t be considered a one-night stand anymore.
Perhaps it was my third eye taking over the pleasure center in my brain, but my view of reality was warping fast. Tunnel vision had become my finest friend, because Bodhi was all I could see. He was my every desire, the focus of all my mind-numbing lust.
His fingers threaded my hair, and I tilted my head to allow greater access as he slid his tongue to the hollow of my neck. And all the while I rocked against him, whimpering my encouragement. His free hand found my panties, deftly sliding them over my ass and as far down my thighs as he could reach. I took over, wiggling until I was free of the constricting lace.
My hands slipped into the waistband of Bodhi’s pants. He hadn’t been kidding about the skin-tight sweats. I could barely wedge my fingers inside, but I managed. The second I freed him from the spandex, Bodhi’s dick sprang to attention and he wasted no time patting the nightstand for the pack of condoms.
“Breeze,” he panted. “I can’t find—”
“Side drawer,” I said, distracted by the feel of defined abs and muscled biceps.
Bodhi ripped open the foil and started to roll the latex over his shaft, but I pushed his hands away and took over, never breaking eye contact. I was in charge now, so I pushed him on his back, and lowered myself onto his formidable erection.
Flexing my internal muscles, I arched my back and prepared for the ride.
His hands molded my hips, guiding me, although it hardly seemed necessary. I knew just where to go and how to make this a rewarding experience for the both of us.
Bodhi shuddered, biting back a soft moan. The sensuous sound reverberated through me and I tingled. Somehow, he managed to pull the shirt over my head, exposing my breasts. Bodhi cupped one soft mound, circling my nipple with his thumb. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any more intense, he sucked the pebbled peak between his lips.
Groaning, I continued to meet his thrusts as his hand slid from my hip to my ass where he massaged the quivering flesh.
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