Her brown eyes flared with something bright, then she smiled shyly and nodded.
“Good girl,” I praised. “Now, come one more time for me. I’ve got more come to fill up your unprotected pussy.”
My words and a few more deep thrusts triggered another screaming orgasm. I followed right behind, shouting with my release.
Belle clenched me tight as I spurted my seed inside her. “You’re doing so good, baby,” I purred as I gave her some shallow thrusts. I didn’t pull out too far, wanting to make sure that she kept every drop. “Just a little more.”
Finally, I seemed to be empty as I softened inside her. Bending over her body, I kissed her tenderly. “How am I going to survive without you?” I sighed. “Even for a little while.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and I kissed away each one as they leaked from the corners. I gathered her close and kept us connected as I carried her to the bed.
I let her go only long enough to strip us both, then I worshipped her body for hours, making love to her and soaking in every moment of being together. Eventually, she fell into an exhausted sleep, but I couldn’t close my eyes; I didn’t want to miss a second of my limited time with her.
The sun came up too fucking soon, and I held her until I had no choice but to get up or I’d miss yet another flight. She was sleeping like the dead, so I showered and packed as quietly as possible. Once I was ready, I called down to the front desk for a car to the airport.
I sat on the bed and brushed her hair away from her face. She had tiny purple shadows under her eyes, and I felt a little remorse at keeping her up for two nights in a row. I couldn’t find it in me to regret it, though. After whispering her name a few times, and running my fingers through her hair, I decided it would be better to let her rest.
Going to the desk near the window, I searched out a notepad and pen.
My Belle,
I’ll treasure every second we spent together.
Love,
Griffith
Then I wrote my cell number and placed the note next to her on my pillow.
My eyes drank her in until I received a text that my car was there. With a sigh, I headed towards the elevator. This fucking sucked. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t looking forward to recording. Music had been knocked down a notch and was no longer my favorite thing. That spot now belonged to a curvy brunette with a sweet laugh and smoking body. I was more determined than ever to return to her as soon as possible.
Chapter 8
Belle
I’d always been more of a morning person than a night owl, but that’d changed in the past few weeks since I usually talked to Griffith when I was already in bed for the night. Our schedules were kind of opposite each other. Mine started bright and early so I could get to the flower shop with enough time to do all of the arrangements before any of the weddings started in the chapel. Rising Phoenix tended to burn the midnight oil in the studio, but every single night he ducked out of their work to call me. It was the lifeline I held onto while we were apart; that connection I had with him while we were on the phone.
Tonight was no different, but our conversation wasn’t providing me with the comfort it had for the first two and a half weeks. It hadn’t the last few times we talked, and I’d told myself I was just being over-sensitive. That I was imagining the feeling that Griffith’s interest in me was starting to wane. But I couldn’t keep denying it. I needed to know what the heck was going on with him. “You seem really distracted. Is everything okay?”
“Hmm?”
I rolled over and punched my pillow in frustration. “Is this a bad time to talk? Are they waiting for you in the studio or something?”
“They’re always waiting for me when I call you.”
Wow. Okay, his answer wasn’t super comforting. If anything, it only made me feel worse. “Yeah, but it never really bothered you before.”
“What?” His voice was muffled, as though his hand was over the phone because the question was meant for someone else.
“Never mind,” I muttered, my eyes filling with tears. “Go take care of whatever it is that’s so important, and I guess I’ll talk to you later.” Or not, at the rate we were going.
I didn’t wait for him to respond. I couldn’t, not unless I wanted him to hear me cry since I had a sob bubbling up my chest. After stabbing my finger at the screen to end the call, I powered my phone down and dropped it on the bedside table. As desperate as I was to hear his voice, I was more afraid of what he might say. I’d thought I was ready to push him to tell me what was going on, but I was wrong. I couldn’t bear to face the possibility that he was starting to distance himself because it would make it easier to break up with me.