Ghosted

“You’re going to have to unzip the suit,” he says. “I can’t do it myself.”

“Hmm, so what you’re saying is if I refuse, you’ll have no choice but to keep it on?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“So why would I help you?”

“Because I can’t fuck you with the suit on,” he says, “and I’ve got a funny feeling you really want to be fucked right now.”

Those words set my body on fire, tingles engulfing every inch of my skin. I reach behind him, tugging on the zipper, pulling it down as far as I can get it.

He strips out of it, and I watch him, trying not to laugh. It takes him damn near ten minutes of struggling before he climbs back into bed.

“Kind of killed the mood, huh?” he asks with a laugh. “Destroyed over a decade’s worth of fantasies in just a few minutes.”

“That takes some skill,” I say. “But maybe, if you’re good to me, I’ll forgive you.”

“I can do that,” he murmurs against my lips, on top of me, inside of me, ever so slowly pushing in. He makes love to me, giving me all of him, in no rush for it to be over.

All night long, again and again, he brings me to the edge, leaving me a sticky, trembling mess. Daylight is already trying to peak through, the sky outside starting to lighten. I lay here, staring at the ceiling. My muscles no longer care to work.

Jonathan’s still at it, going strong, his lips trailing along my stomach, going lower and lower and lower, as he strokes my inner thigh, the light touch making parts of me tingle. I don’t know how he does it. Just when I think I’m done, when I think I can’t take anymore. “Oh god.”

His mouth is on me, his face buried between my thighs. I grasp his hair, shifting my hips, unable to stay still. A minute, maybe two, before he’s got me seeing stars. I squeeze my eyes shut, crying out as pleasure flows through me in waves.

Once I relax again, breathing heavily, he kisses along my inner thigh before biting down gently. Laughing, I swat him away as I clamp my thighs closed. I don’t even have the energy to put up a real fight.

“You’re definitely forgiven,” I whisper. “That was… wow.”

Laughing, he collapses onto the bed. “Thank god, because I’m exhausted.”

“So am I,” I say. “I don’t even think I can make it to the shower.”

“Me, either. Hell, I don’t even have any clothes I can put on. Can’t call Jack to make him get my stuff since I don’t have my phone.”

“Hmm, well, I know one way you might get ahold of him,” I say, grabbing my phone from the bedside stand. “I’ll call your sister.”

Before I can even try to make the call, Jonathan snatches the phone from my hand and tosses it behind him, throwing it right on the floor. “I don’t even want to think about him being somewhere with my sister at this hour. I’d rather stay naked.”

I laugh, snuggling against him, pressing a light kiss to his chest. “I love you, Jonathan.”

“I love you, too.” He wraps his arms around me before whispering, “You’re the queen, baby.”

Click. Click. Click.

The incessant flash of bulbs was bright and blinding as camera shudders went off in rapid succession, taking dozens of photographs every few seconds, immortalizing the moment. Hundreds—maybe thousands—of fans lined the metal barricades along the street in front of the famed Hollywood theater. People camped out for days, desperate to be a part of it, desperate to be there for the Breezeo red carpet.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Jonathan’s erratic heartbeat thumped and echoed in his ears. He had done enough events over the years that this should’ve been a breeze, but he found himself nervous. Not for himself, no… for her. The little girl who clung tightly to his hand, wearing a pretty pink dress her mother had picked out. It was her first time in Hollywood, first time being involved in that part of his life.

He didn’t want her to be overwhelmed.

“Johnny! Johnny! Over here!” People shouted from all around them, trying to get his attention. “This way! Turn to the left! On your right! Johnny, wait! Stop right there! Look up!”

They stopped to pose for more pictures after walking a few feet, and Jonathan bent down to her level, giving her a smile as the cameras continued to flash.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

She nodded, grinning, her blue eyes twinkling under the lights. “I’m being a snowflake again, so I can’t hear nobody.”

“Good girl,” he said. “Just keep smiling.”

Jonathan leaned over, kissing her cheek, as a chorus of oohs and ahhs surrounded them. She’d stolen the spotlight the moment they exited the limo, capturing everybody’s attention, this beautiful little girl with stars in her eyes.