The tug of my hand and the rhythm of Leo’s strokes match up until I’m blissed out and panting. A sprawling, mushy mess of limbs and live-wire nerve endings. Leo leans over and kisses me hard on the mouth, tongue dipping inside as his thrusts become faster.
“I don’t think I’ll last much longer, baby.”
“Let go,” I tell him. “Let go for me.”
A minute later, he does. His eyes scrunch and his forehead creases and his mouth drops open as a primal sound escapes him. The pulsating inside me is so intense that it takes me two tugs and I’m shooting ropes up my stomach and across my chest.
There is spent, and then there is whatever we are once we’re toweled off and curled up, condom disposed of and comforter on the floor. His heartbeat pounds against my eardrum as I close my eyes and turn it into a symphonic composition written for me.
“You did it again,” Leo whispers into my hair.
“Did what?” I don’t even bother opening my eyes. I’m sleepy.
“Surprised me.”
Those twinkle lights bordering the windows take up inside my chest. “How?”
“Calling me sir? I didn’t expect that.”
My finger stops drawing lazy circles on his stomach. “Was it too much?” The scent of our sex still hangs in the air, still intoxicating. I want to bottle this up, wear it proudly like a cologne called Conquest by Holden James and Leo Min.
“It was just right. Everything I’ve fantasized about.” Butterflies beat their wings inside my rib cage. He’s helping make myMadcap Marketfantasy come true, so this is a pittance compared to that. I’m equally satisfied, drained, and dreamily happy. “Did you like it?”
“I loved it.” I snuggle farther into his chest, nuzzling my cheek against his pec. It’s bizarre how safe and comfortable I feel here already. I never want to leave this spot. My breathing slows. My eyes flutter shut again. “I really, really loved it.”
That night, I get my first peaceful, restful night of sleep in over a month.
Seventeen
For the second time, I wake up in Leo’s arms, except there’s no mistaking who it is this time, and there’s no person I’d rather it be.
Last night was incredible. I let go completely and was rewarded for it. The edges of my comfort zone went hazy, expanded, and then broke off. In a small way, I’m renewed.
Sunlight sneaks in from the partially cracked blinds, creating slats of golden light across our skin. I take a deep breath before extricating myself from Leo’s embrace. He stirs a bit, but doesn’t wake, rolling over to face the wall and tugging the comforter up to his shoulders.
He’s not the world’s most beautiful sleeper—mouth half open, hair a mess—but damn if I don’t stop to swoon anyway.
I pad around, naked, looking for my underwear and my phone. My briefs are still tucked into my pants which got kicked beneath the dresser, and I find my phone in the front left pocket, a notification taking up the screen. It’s a missed call and a voice mail from a number I don’t know.
As not to wake Leo, I tiptoe to the bathroom, lock the door, and sit on the toilet. Holding the phone to my ear, the speaker says words I’ve been dying to hear: “Hi. This is theMadcap Marketcasting office. Sorry we missed you. We have some news to share. Please call us back at your earliest convenience.”
My fingers can’t move fast enough. My foot taps impatiently against the cold tile as the call connects. “Hello, Miller Caplan Casting, this is Clarice speaking.”
“Hi, Clarice. This is Holden James. I got a call from your office this morning regardingMadcap Market.” No matter how hard I try, I can’t keep my voice from cracking with excitement.
“Oh.” I hear the sound of shuffling papers. “One moment please.”
The next person to pick up is the casting director I met yesterday. “Holden James?”
“Yes.”
There’s an excruciating pause that causes me to lean forward on the wobbly toilet seat and nearly fall over. “Congratulations, you’ve been selected to compete on the next episode ofMadcap Market.”
There’s an immediate dance party inside my heart. Everything else the woman tells me—schedules, rehearsals, etcetera—I barely comprehend, which is fine because I’m sure they’ll follow up with an email. She concludes the call by asking if she should call Leo herself or if I’d like to give him the news.
“I’ll give him the news. Thank you. Thank yousomuch.” I’m oozing gratitude.
“Of course,” she says. “We thought you and Leo had exceptional chemistry and we’re rooting for you—both on the air and in your new relationship.”
