What she doesn’t know is that I’m halfway in love with her, and as far as I’m concerned, she never has to worry about money again. Brooke can do whatever the hell she wants. Audition. Don’t. Decide to go help the Oteros make their barbecue better. Whatever. I just want her.
Always.
My hand stills on her back.
Holy fuck.
That thought should utterly terrify me, but it doesn’t. I know that I want Brooke on a level that is so deep I think it’s embedded in my cells. There’s simply no part of me that doesn’t know her and crave her and want her.
I lean down and kiss the skin between her shoulder blades before dragging them up to the back of her neck. She moans, stirring. “I don’t think I can again. You’ve completely worn me out.”
Slipping my arm under her stomach, I roll her over gently. The sheet covers almost nothing, and I get a gorgeous view of her body. Breasts that fit in my hands perfectly, lips swollen from my kisses, and the entirety of her relaxed from the orgasms I gave her.
“You don’t have to do any work if my head is between your legs.”
Brooke laughs sleepily and pulls my mouth down to hers. And after a slow, languorous few minutes she runs her fingers through my hair. “I like your tongue in my mouth, too.”
“Whatever you want. Though I’m already missing you. I’d like to see you outside of my bed, too.”
“You’ll just have to share me.”
I hold her tighter against my body. “What if I don’t want to share you?”
“Feeling a little possessive, Sir?”
Tilting her head back, I kiss her neck. Nibble her collarbone. “More than a little.”
“Mmm.” She tilts her head away so that I have more skin to taste. “Well, Mr. Investor, I’m sure that no one would complain about you coming to rehearsals and watching, if you want. You can steal kisses when we have five-minute breaks.”
“I might take you up on that,” I say. I’m not lying. I am feeling possessive. Plus, watching her act will be no hardship whatsoever. “But I don’t want to do that if it will distract you.”
“On the contrary, I find the idea of you watching me pretty hot.”
“In that case,” I say, “I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Her happy smile as she closes her eyes burrows into my chest. That’s the look I always want to see on her face.
Brooke curls deeper into my chest, eyes closing again. She is exhausted with the new schedule and the lack of sleep because we’re both insatiable. I could have her again right now—my body wouldn’t complain—but this…holding her while she sleeps, is satisfaction in an entirely different way.
The next evening, I make my way to the theater. I already cleared my presence with the director and producers. They were ready to bend over backwards for me. Definitely a benefit of throwing my money at something. I have too much of it anyway, and right now this seems like a good use for it. Especially if it makes Brooke’s show that much better.
The theater looks very different without the lights up in the auditorium. Less dramatic. The actors are up on the stage being addressed by the director, but Brooke waves her fingers when she sees me. I wave back and find a seat about half-way back in the audience.
Turning, the director clocks my presence as well. I don’t think Brooke has told them who I am to her, and I haven’t said anything either—I know she wouldn’t want that. It’s important for her to succeed based on her own merit instead of my money.
And she is absolutely brilliant. In the scenes they run, Brooke is refreshing and vibrant. Her southern accent is perfect and rolling, her smile bright, and I have no questions about why she was cast. Amy, her roommate, is great too, in a role that’s nearly the opposite of Brooke’s. Watching her, I experience what it’s like to be completely entranced.
“Okay, take five,” the director says. “When we’re back, we’re going to do some improv stuff.”
Brooke comes down from the stage and jogs over to me. She jumps into my arms and kisses me. That’s that, then. They know. “I didn’t know if you wanted people to know we’re together.”
“I don’t care,” she says, kissing me again. Then she pulls back and grins. “That’s the first time that either of us have said that, by the way. That we’re together.”
“Well, we are.”
“Yeah.” She bites her lip. “We are.”
I wrap my arms around her, enjoying the way her head fits right under my chin. Five minutes goes fast, and she’s heading back to the stage with a smile over her shoulder.
That look is everything.
“Okay. I want to do some work on some scenes that aren’t in the script but have obviously happened. I have a list that I’d like to work through. If we don’t get to all of them, we’ll do some another day. First up is Tood and Tommy, the proposal.”