“Hey, sunshine.”
“Tell me everything,” she says immediately, her voice full of that warm, giddy energy that always makes things feel bigger, better. “How did it go? Was she scary? Did you crush it?”
I laugh, still high from the adrenaline. “Helena was intense in the best way. Straight to the point, no fluff. But yeah, I think I crushed it. She asked about my background, my experience with racing films. Said to keep my schedule open.”
“Brandon, that's huge,” she says, and I canhearthe smile in her voice. “I'm so proud of you.”
The words land deeper than she probably knows. “Thanks. It felt good. Like…maybe this is the next chapter, you know?”
“It is,” she says softly. “It totally is. You've worked your ass off. You deserve every bit of this.”
Part of me hopes that she's talking about more than my career.
thirty-two
. . .
Stella
I'm tryingto listen to Brandon tell me about his meeting with Helena, I really am, but it's hard to focus when his lips wrap around that fork like I imagine it would look wrapped around my breast and his tongue keeps sweeping out to lick food off said fork just like he might with my nipple.
I don't think I've ever been this horny in my life. We're sitting at his kitchen island with takeout containers between us, attempting to have a normal conversation, but every casual touch makes my skin buzz with awareness.
“She said to keep my schedule open,” he says, his eyes bright with excitement. “Hopefully, I'll hear something by the end of the week.”
“That's incredible,” I manage, though my voice comes out breathier than intended because his free hand just settled on my thigh under the counter. “You deserve this, Brandon. You're going to be amazing.”
“I couldn't have done it without you pushing me to take the leap.” His fingers tighten slightly on my leg. “You're so smart and talented. Blair is lucky she found you. You're going to really change this industry.”
His words make my heart skip. I love what I do, but I love it even more when people can see my value. I should say thank you, or maybe tell him how proud of him I am, but all I can think about is how his hands feel on my body. And how I can't get enough of this gorgeous man in front of me.
“We should celebrate,” I say, then immediately feel my cheeks warm at how that came out.
“What did you have in mind?” He says with a knowing look on his face.
Before I can answer, he's pulling me off my stool and against his chest, and then we're kissing with the desperate hunger of people who've been denied something they didn't know they wanted. The takeout is forgotten as his hands slide down to cup my ass, and he lifts me onto the counter.
“We should probably talk about this,” I murmur against his lips, even as my legs wrap around his waist. “Figure out what we're doing.”
“Mmm,” he agrees as his mouth moves to my neck. “Definitely. Very important conversation.”
“It can probably wait—Oh, God, yes, right there—we'll figure this out tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he says, his teeth grazing my pulse point. “We'll figure it all out tomorrow.”
Tomorrow sounds perfect because, right now, his hands are pushing my dress up my thighs and I can't remember why talking seemed important. I pull his shirt over his head, marveling at how different it feels to touch him when I'm allowed to want him. When he's mine to explore.
He lifts me off the counter, with my legs still wrapped around him, and carries me to the bedroom. The confidence in his movements, the way he handles my weight like I'm nothing, sends sparks up my spine.
“I want to taste you,” he says as he sets me down beside his bed. “I've been thinking about it all day.”
My breath catches. “You have?”
“You taste so fucking delicious.” His hands find the zipper of my dress. “It'll never be enough.”
The dress pools at my feet, leaving me in just my bra and underwear. Brandon's gaze travels over me for a moment before he strips me bare.
“You're so beautiful,” he breathes.
