“Well, you were so quick, I don’t have enough data to answer the question.”
“Not enough data, huh?”
I nod seductively. His cock dances. I reach out and give it a tug. His mouth twitches into a grin. He gets hard in my hands.
“I want a do-over,” he says, getting another condom.
I lie on my back, exposing myself to him. He sucks my nipple into his mouth and blows on it, giving me a chill. Then he ever so lightly nips me. I shake involuntarily and feel his smile against my breast.
“You are so responsive.”
I arch into him. “I aim to please.”
He growls—actually growls like a bear—and climbs on top of me, testing me with his fingers before he pushes himself in. He seats himself fully and then retracts until just the tip remains. He does it again, building me back up. He makes love to me slowly this time. His lips are moving, and I wonder if he’s writing a song. The thought has me clawing at his back. He slips a hand between us and pinches my nipple. I groan. His thrusts come more quickly.
He flips me over and yanks me to my knees, slapping against me as he sinks into me over and over from behind. I grab a pillow and lean into it, moaning at the way he feels inside me. He reaches around and rubs my clit with one hand, his other hand grabbing my waist.
“I’m gonna come,” he announces, pushing me over the edge for a second time. We both shout.
We collapse, sweaty and satiated, and laugh.
“We should definitely write a song about that. Jesus, Bria.”
I giggle. “I thought you were. I swear I saw your lips moving, and since you’re always writing …”
“Lyrics by sex,” he says, stroking my side. “You’re very inspiring.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“I still can’t believe it.”
“I know it’s a lot to process, being in bed with a famous singer and all, but you’re going to have to realize I’m a person, too. But on your way out, my head of security will ask you to sign an NDA.”
He hits me with a pillow.
I rise on one elbow. “Do you think it’s been on more than once, or do you suppose we heard the very first time?”
“Hard to say, but what are the odds that we happened to be listening the first time it was on?”
“Do you think the guys heard it?”
He retrieves his phone and gets back into bed. “No texts or calls.”
“Maybe we should tell them.”
He puts down his phone and straddles me. “Hmm, or maybe …” He shimmies against me, getting hard again.
We call them after round three, and Ronni finally texts to let us know we were on the radio. Thanks for the heads up, Veronica.
After round four, I revel in the events of the day and realize Crew’s asleep. I strain to see the outline of his face. I stare at him for a long time. Long enough for the moon to come up and shine through the window.
“Abby,” he mumbles, snuggling against me.
I fall asleep before dawn after staying up most of the night crying, because the man in my arms thinks I’m someone else.
The bed creaks. I cover my eyes to block the light. I hear Crew use the bathroom. He crawls back into bed and wraps his arm around me and kisses the back of my head. His breathing slows; he’s going back to sleep.
“Crew?”
“Yeah?” he says sleepily.
I face him knowing I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help myself. “Who’s Abby?”
Suddenly he’s wide awake, but he doesn’t speak, or get off the bed, or run away. He just turns away from me and pulls the covers up.
Guilt consumes me. He wasn’t baring his soul to me after all. And now … now he’s burying it.
Chapter Twenty-four
Crew
Seven years ago
Where is she?
Between songs, I check the time. Abby’s never late. We’re almost finished with our set.
Liam shrugs at me. He knows as well as I do our final song was going to be my early birthday present to her. I’ve been working on it for months. I started writing it the day we found out she was pregnant. No way am I going to sing it if she’s not here.
Two more songs go by. Mom’s out front, and she’s searching for Abby too. ‘Where is she?’ she mouths. I shake my head.
I check my phone during the guitar solo. No new texts. I quickly send her one. She doesn’t respond.