Her eyes flick up with a mischievous glint, and she takes me deeper. My head falls back, a guttural sound tearing from my throat. Every nerve in my body is strung tight, wound up over the sight of her on her knees, the feel of her mouth on me.
The thought that she’s mine. She’s mine—even if she doesn’t deserve everything that comes along with me.
I thread my fingers into her hair, guiding her gently, but she sets her own rhythm. A tortured, slow pace at first, then faster. Her hand works in tandem with her mouth, and I can’t help it, my hips raise, chasing heaven in her mouth.
“Romy, baby… I’m close.”
She hums around me, the vibration shooting sparks down my spine. Every muscle trembles as I come hard, spilling into her mouth with a groan that could shake the walls. She swallows every last drop and pulls back, licking her lips as if she’s straight out of one of my wet dreams of her.
I collapse back on my elbows, breathing hard.
“Feel better?” She grins.
I laugh and pull her onto my lap. “So much better. But now… it’s time for me to reward you for being such a good girl.”
I nuzzle her in my arms, recovering for a minute before I repay her for her excellent blow job. “So, tell me how boring your day was.”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Of course I want to know.” Even I can hear the edge of concern in my voice.
“Okay,” she says. “I’m just getting tired. I’m just… growing tired.”
My chest seizes, and it feels as if the oxygen has been ripped from my lungs. “Of us? Of me?”
She runs her palm over the scratchy surface of my beard. “I’m tired of living in a hotel. I’m going stir-crazy, Zander.”
Relief that it’s not me she’s tired of barrels through me. I can fix anything as long as it’s not me. “The hotel life’s not glamorous enough for you?”
“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “The walls are closing in on me. I miss fresh air that isn’t from a balcony. I miss walking through The Harvest Depot. I miss grabbing a cider and not feeling like I’m sneaking around.” She shifts off of me so she’s beside me on the mattress. “I miss normal.”
The word twists something inside me. Normal. I can never give her normal.
“You’re telling me room service and Egyptian cotton sheets aren’t enough for you? Some women would kill for a life like this.” I try to keep my voice light, not knowing what to do with her confession.
She narrows her eyes playfully. “I’m not some woman. And besides, the pancakes downstairs are dry.”
“Maybe I’ll fly Jensen in to make you pancakes.”
My joke falls flat, and she doesn’t say anything.
“All right. We’ll get you out. I’ll talk to Beau. Maybe we can sneak you out somewhere.”
Her eyes soften, and I’m grateful I can make her day a little bit better, but there’s a niggling worry at the back of my mind that it won’t be enough.
She nestles against me, her belly pressing into my stomach and her head tucked beneath my chin. And for a long moment, we just breathe together.
Her warmth. Her scent. The feel of her curves in my arms.
It’s the only place I feel steady anymore. The only place that feels like home. I’ve been chasing home my entire life, never feeling like I had one.
But even as I think it, as I hold her, reality seeps in.
The world outside this room is waiting. The cameras, the headlines, the fans who think they own me.
And she’s right.
We can’t stay in here forever.
