by Dover, L. P.
The way he smiles makes my heart melt. I’ve seen him on TV a gazillion times, but I’ve never once seen him look like that, not in a long time at least. Brennan pulls me to him and kisses me. “Thanks, Nat. I’ll wear it to my next concert.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, right.”
He winks and pulls me down on the couch beside him, his arm around my waist. “We have a little bit of time left. What do you want to do?”
He tickles my side and I giggle. “I’m sure I can think of something.” I turn my body to face him and he moves his arm so he can do the same. “We can talk if you want?” I say.
“Okay,” he agrees, grinning at me and making my knees weak like he always does. “What do you want to talk about?”
I shrug. “What concerts do you have lined up here in the next month?”
Pursing his lips, he looks out the window. “Let’s see … my next three are all in California and then I have to go to Ohio at the end of the month and visit a couple of cities there.”
“You stay busy, don’t you?”
He snorts. “Just a little. Being here has helped a lot though. I’ve been able to breathe.” He reaches over and takes my hand. “What about you? What’s on your agenda this January?”
I squeeze his hand. “The usual. I’ll be at the hospital for most of it, but on my days off I like to see my parents or go shopping with Emerson.”
Brennan glances around at my apartment. It has one of the best views of the harbor. “What about your ex? Does he ever try to call you?”
“No,” I reply, loving that I can hear a hint of jealousy in his tone. It makes me feel good. “He’s moved on, and I’m glad I don’t have to worry about him ever again.” Brennan meets my gaze and I move closer to him. “What are you going to do about Rayna? Will I be seeing you in the tabloids with her?”
His eyes darkened. “Not if I can help it. All I want to do is make music. I just wish I could do that without all the other bullshit politics.”
“I get it,” I say. “You have to keep your fans drawn to you, whether it be music or drama. The world eats that stuff up.”
He nods. “Tell me about it.”
Silence fills the air and every time I look at the clock it flies by even faster. We’ve avoided the talk, you know the one where we figure out if this is going to lead to anything or not. I’m too afraid to bring it up, and I’m terrified that this whole tryst is just that, a once in a lifetime dalliance that’ll leave my heart aching for more.
Swallowing hard, I get up and stretch, hoping like hell he can’t see any hint of sadness on my face. “How about something to eat before you go? I know we don’t have much time since you have to stop by your parents to say goodbye before you head to the airport. But at least I can whip up something.”
My eyes burn and I hate myself for it. I walk away quickly and busy myself in the kitchen. I cannot cry. I cannot cry. I repeat those words over and over in my head.
Brennan used to love French toast, so I grab the loaf of bread out of my bread basket and the eggs out of the refrigerator. Before I can even crack and egg, Brennan’s hands reach around my waist.
“You can’t hide your feelings from me, Nat. What’s wrong?”
I plaster on a smile and face him. “Nothing. I want to make sure you get something to eat before you leave.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not worried about that. The last thing I want is you wasting your time in here when you need to be with me.” The more I’m with him, the harder it is to let go. Taking my hand, he leads me out of the kitchen and back down the hall to my bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
Smirking, he leads me into the bedroom. “You’ll see.”
We fall onto my bed and it smells just like him. It’s going to kill me when I have to wash the sheets. “I want you so bad,” I mumble against his mouth, moving my hips in circles under his weight.
I take off my shirt, exposing my bare breasts for him. He closes his lips over a nipple and sucks, pulling and biting it until I scream out. I moan in pleasure as he massages and kisses every square inch of my breasts, fondling my nipples with his tongue. My underwear is soaked and even more so when he bites my tender flesh. The pain of it feels so damn good.
Sliding his lips up my neck to my cheek, he closes them over my lips. “And I want you,” he murmurs low. “Fuck, you have no idea how bad.”
I grab his hand and slide it down under the waistband of my pants. Using my hand to push his against my wet heat, I moan. “Oh, I think I have an idea of how bad.”
“Fuck me. I can’t wait anymore.” He pulls his hand out and takes my pants down far enough to where I can kick them off.
Crawling backward, he caresses his fingers down my legs until he’s completely off the bed. Never taking his gaze off mine, he lifts his shirt over his head and slides his pants down to the floor. His cock bulges behind his boxers and I bite my lip as he rubs his arousal through the material. Slowly, he slides his boxers down and smirks as he gives himself a few pumps up and down his length. He watches me watch him and it’s the single most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
Brennan wastes no time and crawls on the bed. I slide my underwear off and throw it across the room, opening wide for him. His tongue trails up my inner thigh and passes over my clit with one quick flick. My body jerks and the feel of his breath as he chuckles, making my toes curl. It’s so hot hearing his satisfaction.
Delving deep, he buries his tongue inside me and swirls it around, fucking me. His tongue is so warm and needy as he tastes me, driving me to the edge. My clit aches for release and when he pulls his tongue out and starts sucking on it, my body explodes. Fisting my hands in his dark hair, I scream out my pleasure. He slowly lowers his pace and licks me as my body shakes.
When I look down, his brown eyes blaze with an intensity that makes me tremble. I’ve never seen anyone stare at me like that.
“How about we take this to the shower?” he says, his eyes dark with need.
I nod, but no words come out. Chuckling, he lifts me in his arms and carries me into the bathroom, setting me down so he can turn on the shower water. It doesn’t take long for the steam to fill up the room. We step in and I grab the soap.
Giggling, I rub it down his arms and stomach before moving around to get his back. He groans when I drop it so I can cup his balls in one hand and massage his cock with the other.
“You’re killing me, Nat.”
Giggling again, I press my tits to his back and work my hands up and down his length. He leans forward and groans again. “I’m going to come if you don’t stop.
“I don’t want to stop,” I mutter, moving faster. “I want you to come.”
His cock pulses and I know he’s about to come. “Ah fuck,” he growls, slamming his hands against the shower wall. His body jerks and I smile as he rides out his orgasm.
“How did that feel?” I ask, bending underneath his arm so I can face him. He cages me in his arms, his gaze roaming down my body as the water drips down my breasts.
Pushing me against the wall, he opens my mouth with his lips and pushes his tongue inside. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he grabs my thighs, lifting me above his waist. I hold on tight as he spreads me wide.
I gasp as he presses me harder against the wall, gazing down at me with heat-filled eyes. “You ready?” he growled.
“Oh yes,” I moan. “More than ready.”
He sucks on my nipple and bites down, pushing into me hard. I scream out and dig my nails in his back as he fucks me against the wall. The harder he licks and sucks my nipples, the tighter I clench around him.
“Hold me tighter,” he commands.
I do as he says and wrap my legs tighter around his waist. He lets go of my ass and leans against the wall so he can push harder. It takes things to a whole different level. Every square inch of my body is on fire.
“Does that feel better, baby?” he asks between thrusts.
Moaning, I nod quickl
y. “You . . . have . . . no . . . idea.”
Rocking his hips more vigorously, I counter his motions and move my body along with his. I’m so close to losing control and I can tell he is too. Brennan bites down on my neck and it’s my undoing. I scream out my orgasm at the same time he comes inside me. That’s the one thing I love about Brennan. He always used to make sure I was satisfied before he ever got his. Not many men were like that, definitely not my ex-husband.
Brennan holds me against the shower wall, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths. My body still shook from post orgasmic bliss. “Can I let you down now?” Brennan asks, chuckling softly.
I nod and he sets me down. My knees feel weak, but he’s there to steady me. “That was amazing,” I breathe.
He cups my face in his hands. “Yes, it was.”
I don’t know how much time has passed, but I know it’s time for him to go. “Finish your shower and I’ll grab your clothes,” I say, trying to smile. “We don’t want you missing your flight.” That’s a total lie.
Brennan nods and I hop out of the shower. My bath robe is hanging on the back of the bathroom door, so I grab it and slip it on. By the time I walk into the living room to fetch Brennan’s clean clothes and head back to the bathroom, he’s already out and drying off. I hand him his clothes and head right back to the living room so he can get dressed.
I look out the window at the harbor and I can see his reflection in the glass when he steps into the room. “I have to go, Nat.”
Taking a deep breath, I turn around and smile even though my heart hurts. “Be safe in Cali. Don’t get into too much trouble.” In his hands is my grumpy cat T-shirt. I honestly didn’t think he’d take it with him, but it makes me feel good to know he’ll have it.
He opens his arms and I melt against him. “I’ll call you, okay?”
Will he? Once he goes back to his fabulous life, he’ll forget all about me. “Sounds good,” I murmur, breathing him in one last time.
He squeezes me hard and let’s go. I walk him to the door, and he opens it, but before he walks out, he turns to give me a kiss. Our lips touch and I can tell neither one of us wants to let go. I pull back first and rest my forehead against his.
“I had a good time, Brennan. It was great seeing you again.”
His eyes meet mine. “Same. You’re still as beautiful as ever.”
Turning on his heel, he walks out the door and stops at the elevator. He presses the button and when the doors open, he looks at me one more time and waves. I wave back and watch him disappear inside. One thing is definitely for sure … it’s one New Year’s I’m never going to forget.
7
Brennan
The second hand on the clock slowly ticks by. The sound it makes echoes in the studio. Tick, tick, tick . . . it’s all I can focus on. On the other side of the glass, the producer of my next album and the audio guy are in a heated discussion. By heated, I mean they’re pointing at each other angrily while I sit on a stool and wait for someone to tell me what the hell I’m doing. It probably doesn’t help that I’m being an epic shit about the song and keep changing the lyrics. It’s not mine. I didn’t write it and I don’t care for it, but some up and coming—their words—not mine, niece to an executive producer wrote the song and it sounds more like a teeny bopper, bubble gum popping, love song for middle schoolers. Definitely not the sound or feel I’m going for. The audio guy knows this and keep trying to arrange something a bit grittier, something more me.
To bide my time, I pull out my cell phone and scroll through the pictures I took of Natalie. I feel bad because I haven’t been able to call her as much as I would like. I’m busy, she’s busy, the time difference makes talking complicated, and even though texting is my preferred form of communication, there was a recent outbreak of some rabid fan hacking into phone accounts. The worst part, the hacker was employed by the cell provider and had access to everyone’s accounts. The last thing I want is for the media to get wind of Natalie’s existence and hound her. It was one of the main reasons we never left her apartment while I was there. Plus, staying entangled between her legs was a far better way to spend our time.
“Bren, you ready?” Allen, the sound board tech asks. I nod, but truth is, I’m not. I don’t want to be here right now. I slip my headphones back on and wait for the music to play. I’m trying to get into it. I’m tapping my foot, bobbing my head, and my fingers are keeping in time with the beat, but the music sucks, as do the lyrics. As soon as I open my mouth, I close it and pull my headphones off.
“Let me know when you’re ready,” Allen says into the intercom. He gets it. He knows.
“Listen Brennan, the record company is paying a lot of money for this. You’ve been at it for two days, what’s the issue?” Saldi Ashington asks. He’s worked for the record label for eons, and according to my manager, knows his stuff. He’s won Grammy’s, been nominated for an Oscar, and has produced some of the country’s biggest albums, but this time, he’s lost his mind.
“It’s the lyrics . . . ‘I’m tied up in bubble gum, sticky and sweet’ do you really expect me to sing this?”
“It’s a song,” he says.
“It’s a stupid song. Never in my life have I sung about bubble gum, let alone sticky and sweet. This screams fourteen-year-old pop star, which in case you haven’t noticed, isn’t me.
“It’s what the label wants.”
“Then find someone else. I’m not doing it. I have an album to make and this song isn’t going on it.”
“You’re under contract,” he reminds me.
“I am, guess I’m in breach.” I stand and set the headphones down and exit the room, walking right past Saldi. I hear Allen tell him he agrees with me, which I suspected. The song’s a joke and would ruin my career.
When I’m out of the studio, I walk toward the parking garage. Now would be a good time to call Natalie, but the paparazzi are lurking, and I don’t want anyone to eavesdrop on my conversation with her. Yet, when my phone rings and I see it’s my manager, I have no choice but to answer it.
“Yeah,” I answer, already frustrated with what is about to happen. Vance Davis has been my manager / agent since I came into the industry. He’s also been a pain in my ass and best friend and has never steered me in the wrong direction.
“Tough session?”
“Ridiculous. Did you know about this song?”
“Only that the label had one for you to record. What’s wrong with it?”
I tell him everything, reciting the lyrics I have memorized. As a musician, I pride myself on remembering the song before I have to preform it, even if it’s something I don’t plan to sing. It’s part of having a photographic memory, everything stays whether I like it or not.
“I can’t do it, Vance. It’s going to ruin my career.”
“I’ll take care of it. What are you doing now?”
“Nothing, gonna go home and chill for a bit, make a few phone calls and then hit up the Laker’s game. Why, what’s up?”
“There’s this newcomer, Halle Fulton. She’s twenty-five and has a movie coming out in a few months. She’s with the agency and we’re looking to build her status. You interested in taking her tonight, courtside seats?”
I groan. “Why me? Isn’t Zac Efron available?”
“We don’t want her linked with a co-star. Plus, she likes your music. Super sweet girl, college educated. Talent scout found her at a coffee shop or something equally random. She’s shy, nervous about Los Angeles. You’d be helping the agency out a lot if you show her the ropes.”
As much as I don’t want too, I agree anyway because if it’s not this woman, it’s Rayna and I want to steer clear of Rayna. “Do I have to pick her up?”
“Nah, we’ll send a car for the both of you. Have fun at the game. Tell Jack I said hi.”
Right, Jack Nicholson. Perfect. Love sitting by him.
I finally enter the garage where my car is parked and hand the attendant my slip and am told i
t’ll be a few minutes. The sun is shining, it’s warm and a far cry from the weather I experienced in Boston. Warm weather brings out the paps, which is annoying. As one approaches, I look down at the ground, completely fascinated by a piece of gum on the ground.
“How’s it going, Brennan?”
Answer or not? Turn back into the garage and seek some shelter or stay? I stay because it’s unlikely the garage is going to save me, chances are, the attendant called this guy and told him I was standing outside.
“Things are great, man.”
“Good to hear. Enjoy your holidays?”
“No complaints.”
I’ll answer, but I’m not asking him any questions.
“Rumor around town is you missed Rayna’s big party.”
“Didn’t know she had one.” I can see this guy is getting frustrated, but whatever. He’s lucky I’m even talking to him right now. I could laugh everything off. Tell him I have no comment. But I’m not. I’m being nice, giving him some information to do whatever the hell he wants with it.
“I think we were all waiting for some big news to come from the two of you. You seem to be heading toward the alter.”
Really? Is that what people around us see? Because I don’t. I’m hardly nice to her when we’re out in public. Sure, I may hold the door open for her, but that’s because my father raised me well. Every time she touches me I cringe, and I hate posing for red carpet photos with her. Of course, any ballad I release, the media has a field day with and automatically thinks it’s about her, when it’s not. Hell, maybe I should do the bubble gum song and find a way to slip her name into the lyrics. My luck, the media would spin it, and I’d be screwed.
I say nothing and look over my shoulder, hoping the approaching car is mine. It is and I leave the guy standing there as he continues to ask about Rayna. On my drive home, I finally call Natalie, but her phone goes to voicemail and before I can leave her a message, a call comes in from the record label. I stare at my dashboard, wondering if I should answer it or not, when the speaker beeps. Great, I left Nat a voicemail of nothing but silence. She’s going to think I’m a fucking idiot. I am, I’m just giving her more and more proof with each passing day. I decline the current call and head home. I need aspirin, a nap, and a long shower before I have to smile for the cameras and play nice. The Lakers are playing the Celtics, and while I live in Los Angeles, there ain’t no way I’m rooting for anyone but the green tonight.
