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I’m never sharing this with anyone. Fucking never.
I’m not sure I deserve this woman, but I’m just selfish enough not to give a fuck.
I need her too much to let her go. I love her too deeply. She’s become everything to me.
It should scare me how fast this has happened, but it doesn’t. Not when it’s so damn right. Conley’s death and my fall from the top showed me that I can’t take anything for granted in this life. It can all be ripped out from underneath us too soon and in the blink of an eye.
“Mine,” the chant starts out softly, spilling from my lips every time I’m fully buried inside of my woman. It’s a prayer, a promise, a plea.
Her walls start to ripple around me, and my balls draw up, telling me that I won’t be able to hold off for much longer. I bite down on her hard nipple and the shriek of pleasure that comes from my woman and the way she clamps down on me as she comes has me seeing double.
I roar out her name as I grip her hips and hold her steady as I fill her to the hilt with my cock. Every pump of cum filling her sends shockwaves through both of us.
As she slumps against my chest, I can feel the pounding of her heart and the way it matches my own. My hands run up and down her back, needing to touch her, to reassure myself that she’s right here in my arms.
Far too soon we’ll have to go back to Denver. We’ll have to share the magic that we’ve found in our bubble in the mountains. Reality is waiting, but right now, right here, we can ignore it for a little while longer.
I stand on shaky legs, still buried inside of my woman.
Her blue eyes meet mine, her voice breathless as she asks, “What are you doing?”
“Taking you to bed. We have a lot to celebrate, my Songstress, and I want to enjoy you and keep you all to myself for a little while longer.”
Cove melts into me, her grip tightening around my neck as she nods. “Show me what you got, Mr. Rock Star.”
I chuckle, my cock hardening inside of her and making us both groan when she giggles, and her walls tighten in response.
Soon. We’ll go back to reality soon.
But not yet.
CHAPTER 9
COVE
How many surreal moments can someone experience before convincing yourself that you’re in an alternate universe or some sort of living computer program? Right here and now, as I sit in one of the studios in the basement of WPF’s music mansion, this is peak surreal living. It doesn’t feel real.
All the guys from SO are sitting around while listening intensely to the five songs I helped to create with Langston fucking Phillips. Yeah, the same Langston Phillips that I’ve fallen in love with.
The real kicker?
I’m almost certain that he’s in love with me as well.
It wasn’t long ago that I was just a chick in Montana putting my music on social media. That woman could have never imagined ending up here. It’s even better than the dreams I held close to my heart. Hell, if this really is all a simulation or a dream, I never want to leave.
This is the life I want to live. I want to keep making music with Langston. I want to stand at his side and watch with pride as he conquers his past and his addiction to step back onto stage for the love of music and the memory of his best friend. I want to keep finding the moments of light and inspiration.
As the last notes of the fifth song we recorded fades in the room, quiet reigns. It has me shifting in my seat. Without thinking about it, my eyes find Langston’s dark green gaze. He’s already looking at me, love shining back at me and making me feel stronger than the timid little girl who never thought this kind of experience was really possible.
I don’t want to look at the guys in SO. What if they don’t like the songs? What if I’ve blown my one chance?
Langston’s muscles flex as if he’s reading my mind and wants to stride over to me to take me into his arms. With a shake of my head, he narrows his eyes at me. He wasn’t happy when I told him that I didn’t think it would be a good idea to put the relationship between us out there for everyone to see. It’s clear he’s still not happy about it.
“I’m not hiding you,” his voice was fierce as he tried to argue with the suggestion that we kept some distance between us. “You’re not some dirty little secret, Cove,” he growled my name, frustration filling his voice and contorting his features.
“I know,” I tried to soothe him with my voice, murmuring gently at him, “and you’re not mine.”
“Certainly fucking feels like it,” he grumbled.
