"Come here," he said, guiding my h*ps against him in a spooning position. He slid easily inside me, and his palm covered my breast, his thumb on my nipple, as he began to slowly f**k me. His breath was warm on the nape of my neck, and be brought me to the edge quickly, surprisingly quickly.
"I've never liked being inside anyone as much as I like being in you," he said, as his movements became more urgent.
“Oh my God.” I gasped the words, barely aware of anything else except how he felt inside me.
“Fuck,” he said into my ear, his voice raspy. “I want to feel you come on my c**k right now.”
As soon as he spoke the words, I let go. I was barely aware of anything else, even his touch, his hands on my br**sts, pulling me tightly against him as he came inside me with a vengeance.
As my orgasm subsided, I felt his mouth on my neck, kissing me as I came down. He murmured softly near my ear. "I really can't get enough of f**king you. You fit me like a glove."
I flushed warm at his words. I didn't know what it was, just that my body craved his touch, couldn't get enough. "The feeling is mutual," I said.
We holed up in the bed and breakfast for the next week, with June and Cade popping in every so often. I was content there with him, happy to be playing pretend house or whatever it is we were doing.
I wasn't sure what this was, only that I was happy.
The thing was, I knew it couldn't last. And I had to tell him that I'd run from the set, that any day now, someone was going to show up, looking for me. I kept meaning to, but it never seemed like the right time. Instead, we avoided the internet, pretended the outside world didn't exist, and spent all of our time talking and laughing and f**king.
It was perfect.
But that's the problem with perfect. It never lasts.
21
"What is it?" I asked. I sat on the sofa in the front room of the bed and breakfast, my legs tucked underneath me, flipping through a novel I'd borrowed from June.
"Hey. I need to go out for a few minutes," Elias said, looking at his cell phone. His voice was calm, steady, but I could tell his thoughts were churning. "I have to take care of something."
"Is it serious?" I asked.
Elias shook his head. "Probably nothing," he said. "I don't really know."
He was lying. I could tell, as soon as the words came out of his mouth. His voice sounded strained when he lied to me.
I wondered what the hell he was doing that he had to cover up where he was going.
"Okay," I said, my tone clipped. "Will you be long?"
"No," he said, then, when he saw my expression, "It's not anything weird. I promise. I'm not going to hook up with a chick or something like that. I'll text you the address in case there's an emergency. I'll explain later. You have that new cell phone we got, right?"
I shrugged, trying to appear more nonchalant than I felt. "Okay, Mr. Mysterious," I said. "You go do whatever it is you're going to do, rescue a cat in a tree or whatever. I have the cell phone. I've got my book here, anyway. It's kind of nice being able to relax."
Elias kissed me on the forehead. "I'll see you in a bit."
It wasn't more than five minutes after he'd left that I heard footsteps on the porch. I pulled open the door before June had even knocked. As much as I liked my book, the prospect of hanging out with June and little Stan was better than my novel.
"Where's little Stan?"
"Cade's looking after him right now," she said. Her expression looked pained.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"You haven't been online, have you?" She held her laptop in her hand.
I groaned. "No," I said, as she followed me inside. "I've been on a media blackout. Seriously, I don't want to know what it is. Did Viper write another terrible apology song again? Let me guess. It's called I want to have your baby?"
She shook her head. "It's not that."
"What is it, then? You know if it's something gossipy, I'm not going to want to see it. I haven't been paying attention to any of the crap."
Even the reporters out front seemed to have gotten bored with the lack of movement here. After Elias and I decided we'd just hole up all week, they'd disappeared, one by one. I'd heard one of them was still in town, but at least everyone had left the front lawn, chasing after some other person of the moment.
"Well," June said. "You're going to see it eventually. And it's probably better you see it now, before you get blindsided by it."
She brought up one of the gossip sites, the headline emblazoned on the screen:
"Viper Gabriel proposes to model Brenna Andrews at a Hollywood Club: River Andrews Devastated!"
I scanned through the article, my hand over her mouth. "I'm sure it's not even true," I said. My voice sounded soft, hesitant, not like me.
I felt dizzy.
"There's a video, River," June said. "Of the proposal. But maybe it's fake? They can fake that stuff, can't they? I mean, it's obviously not completely true- they don't have access to you, so they don't know your reaction."