Amazing didn’t begin to describe the way his cock filled me. The way his hips thrust. The way his finger found my clit and everything else faded away.
His weight pressed down on me as I ground my hips against him. At this rate, it wouldn’t take long to reach my climax. Not with the way his fingers expertly coaxed me closer and closer to a release.
Then he shifted, pulling me into a seated position. I wrapped my legs around his waist, straddling his lap.
“You set the pace, baby.” He bent his head, his mouth closing around my nipple.
Everything inside me stretched taut, waiting to tumble over the edge. Then he moved his mouth to my other breast even while I eased myself up and down, riding him to the point of no return.
My orgasm started as a ripple. The ripple turned into a wave. The wave crashed over me, sweeping me into a free fall of sensations until I didn’t know which way was up.
“That’s it, Britt. Let go.” Shane’s voice sounded like it was coming from far away.
I gripped his shoulders as my orgasm wrung the last bit of pleasure from me. I don’t know how he managed to hold back, but Shane hadn’t let himself go yet. So I leaned back, pulling him down on top of me. Clasping my ankles behind his back, my hips thrust up, sending him even deeper.
I could see the exact moment before he came. He bit his bottom lip, his forehead furrowed in concentration. Then he swiveled his hips and plunged into me. His entire body tensed, and I clenched around him.
He collapsed, his weight pinning me to the bed, the perfect moment captured between us.
We stayed like that for a long beat. Until my breath evened out and I smoothed my hand over his hair. His skin was soft under my palm and I marveled at what had just happened. I, Britt Janneson, had just had wild, crazy, incredible sex with a superstar.
8
SHANE
“What time do you need to be at the bakery?” I’d been running my fingers up and down Britt’s side for the past ten minutes. I couldn’t get over how natural it felt. Being with her made me feel like I was in the right place at the right time... that this was exactly where I was supposed to be.
I shook the thought away before I got too used to the idea. I should be at home, taking care of my son. One of my foster brothers had been great about keeping Liam while I was on the road. Gave him a chance to stay in school and make friends. That’s what nine-year-old boys needed: stability and predictability. Someday I’d be able to offer that to him.
Britt rolled over to face the clock. The big red numbers were a reminder of how little time we had left together. “I need to get up.”
I wrapped my arm around her middle and nestled my cheek against her breast. Her stomach gurgled. “We never did get that bite to eat. Are you hungry?”
Her fingers raked through my hair. I loved the way her touch sent shivers down my spine.
“A little. But you must be starving.” She leaned over to kiss me.
Eager to taste her again, I propped myself up on my elbow. Sure, I could eat, but I’d rather spend what little time we had left right here.
“Come on, I’ll make you something at the bakery if you help me knead the dough.” She shifted, sliding her legs to the edge of the bed.
“I’d much rather stay here and knead you instead.” My palm slid over her hip and landed on her ass. She had a magnificent butt. I hadn’t had a chance to get my fill of her yet and wasn’t ready to let her go.
“Maybe if we get the dough made, we’ll have time to come back here before you have to meet the bus.”
The bus. With the tour over, the only thing I had on my calendar for the next few months was spending time with Liam and coming up with new material for our next album. For half a heartbeat, I wondered if Liam would be interested in spending the summer in Texas. Mama Mae was always up for a visit and it would be fantastic for Liam to get to know the woman who raised me.
But that was ridiculous. I didn’t know anything about Britt beyond how she tasted and the incredible way she made me feel. Time wasn’t on my side, though it never was.
Twenty minutes later, we entered the dark bakery. Britt flipped on the lights and locked the door behind us. She slipped off her jacket, then reached out to take mine.
“You might want to put an apron on, so you don’t get your shirt dirty.” She hung our coats on a hook by the door before heading into the kitchen. “Here you go.”
I slipped the light pink apron over my head. “I think pink’s my color.”
“You’d look good in anything.” She stepped behind me to tie the strings.
“Damn, I was hoping you’d say something like I look even better with nothing on.”