“Sexy,” she growls. I swear that pride makes another rush of blood go south and I grow even harder. “Let me taste you.”

  I step closer to the bed, holding my cock in hand. She sits up, leaning on her elbow, and sticks her tongue out. I trace the tip over her lips and then over her tongue. Her mouth closes down around me, and I moan at the heaven that is Jayme’s mouth. There’s only one thing better . . .

  “Just for a second. I’m on edge, and I want your pussy.”

  She grins with my dick in her mouth, her eyes looking up at me as though I’ve challenged her. “Jayme, please . . .” I hiss as she sucks my soul through my cock, taking me to the back of her throat over and over, her hands slipping up and down my length as her mouth does. I gather her hair into one fist, keeping it out of her way, and reach down to finger her pussy while she works me.

  She takes me closer and closer to the edge, and I feel like I’m dancing with the devil, not sure if I’m going to be able to stop before I come but not willing to stop yet. Too quickly, I feel a tingle in my balls that starts to work its way up my spine, and I jerk away abruptly. “No. I want that pussy. Lie back.”

  Jayme smirks, knowing she almost had me, but she reclines back to the bed, her head on the pillow and her hair fanned out like an angel. But she’s no angel. She’s my badass little devil.

  As quickly as I can, I shove my jeans and underwear off the rest of the way and climb onto the bed between her bent knees. Sitting back on my heels, I take myself in hand to notch myself at her entrance. Our eyes meet and lock. “Jayme, I love you,” I vow, my tone more serious than our sexy talk. “Forever.”

  “I love you too, Carson,” she promises. “You and me against the world.”

  I know what that means to her. She has people, close friends and family she trusts. But I’ve been let in even beyond that small, inner circle. I’m not sure how I got so damn lucky, but I won’t ever betray her trust in letting me in. She’s seen all of me, the good and bad, but still loves me.

  And maybe that’s what matters. We do see each other, not as some perfect image created by studying impact and statistical likability, but the real deal we hide from everyone else. We see the perfection in each other’s flaws and insecurities and don’t want the other to change. I want to be there for the successes, celebrations, and smiles, but I also want Jayme’s messy moments, her angry outbursts, and her worries because those are all a part of who she is. I’m willing to let her step forward to protect me when she feels it’s warranted because I’ll do the same for her. We protect each other because we’re building a future together.

  Starting right now.

  I slide into her slowly, wanting to feel Jayme’s body surround every inch of me. She stills, letting me fill and stretch her deliciously. “You like that?” I tease.

  “More,” she pants. The pressure of holding back is building inside her, taking all the control she has left.

  With a grunt, I drop my hands to the bed, looming over her. “Hang on.”

  Jayme puts her hands on my shoulders, gripping me tightly, and wraps her legs over mine for leverage. With no other words needed, I thrust in deeply, fucking her the way she wants me to. The way I want to.

  I slam into her hard, the reverberation sending her back down onto my cock again. “Oh!” she cries out. “Yes!”

  Each slow and powerful thrust has me bottoming out inside her where I grind, feeling her walls around my tip and her clit against the coarse hair at the base of my cock. I pull back and do it again, over and over, until we’re both crazed with need.

  I sit back, looping her legs over my arms, the back of her knees over my elbows and her feet flailing wildly through the air as I change the angle of my thrusts, driving into her even more deeply than before. I grip her hips tightly, pulling her onto my cock, and she braces herself against the headboard.

  Jayme’s eyes meet mine, though hers threaten to roll back in her head. “Yes, yes, yes! Come in me, Carson. I want it,” she whines.

  “Nuh-uh. You don’t ask, and you never have to beg me for anything. You fucking take it. Everything I have, everything I am . . . it’s yours. Understand?” I keep fucking her as I correct her, a thrust with every important point.

  She nods wildly, any answer lost to her pleasure. I’m on the edge, scrambling to hold onto my last bit of control.

  “Then take it. Work that pussy and take my cum. It’s yours, all yours,” I grit out through clenched teeth. She’s already lost to my command, her body taking over and spasming, her walls clenching me in waves of pleasure.

  She adjusts her hands on the headboard, leaving one there, and drops the other to her clit. I can watch her rub herself while seeing my cock disappear into her core, and her breasts bounce with every thrust I make. Jayme’s head writhes against the pillow, her mouth dropped open in a silent scream.

  “Holy fuck,” I hiss. I didn’t think I could feel any more pleasure. I was wrong. This is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen—the most in-control, badass woman I’ve ever seen giving herself completely over to carnal pleasure at the base of my cock. I have never felt more powerful or in awe.

  All thoughts evaporate as pure light surges through me. It starts in my balls and shoots up my spine, and l shudder as jet after jet of my cum pumps into Jayme. I grunt with each spurt, praying it's not the last because I want this ecstasy to go on forever, especially when she starts to spasm harder, cresting on an even bigger orgasm.

  Long after my orgasm begins to wane, I keep thrusting into Jayme, prolonging her orgasm and pushing her into another small one by slowly circling her clit with my thumb when her own hand sags.

  When she pushes at my hand, only then do I stop. Buried deep inside her body, and her heart, I let her legs drop to the bed and lean over her, supporting myself on my hand once again.

  “I love you, Jayme Rice,” I say softly.

  “I love you, Carson Steen,” she replies.

  “Aww! Well, I love you both, but you owe me some new bedding after that!” Taya yells through the door.

  “What the fuck?” I cry out, eyes darting toward the door behind me. Quieter, I tell Jayme, “If she comes through that door, you’re gonna have a new job because the headlines are gonna read Carson Steen kills Taya after begging her for help in viral video.”

  Jayme laughs, but I’m dead serious. “You’re harshing my afterglow, bitch!” Jayme yells, seemingly not at all concerned about her friend’s potential imminent death, or my bare ass toward the door, or her own nakedness.

  “Here, cover up, just in case.” I grab at my T-shirt from the edge of the bed where it landed after I took it off.

  “Boy, I’ve seen all her assets and then some. More than you, pro’lly, because there was that one time I did her wax job. Canceled appointment, my ass. You can just tell ole Taya when you want a little look-see.” Taya is chattering through the door like this is perfectly normal.

  Wait . . .

  “She waxed you? Like down there?” I ask, looking pointedly to the bare skin at the apex of her thighs.

  Jayme laughs. “Yeah, uh . . . down there,” she says in a deep voice that’s supposed to be me. “What, you think she did my eyebrows? A second ago, you were all ‘make your pussy take it’ and now you’re all ‘down there’ like a frat bro."

  She’s right, but I can feel my cheeks go hot. “It’s different,” I try to argue. But Jayme’s eyes are full of laughter.

  And she still hasn’t put on my shirt.

  “What do you want, Taya?” I bark.

  “Just thought you’d want to know that the hot tub is on and bubbly, and The Princess Bride is queued up. So tick-tock, bitches. I’m going to bed and Carlo is passed out on the couch. I was hoping y’all would be done already because someone kept me up late last night. A bitch needs her beauty sleep, ya know?”

  I hear her soft footsteps back down the hall.

  I fall to the bed next to Jayme, ready to fall into a coma myself. It’s been a long day, from refreshing that video over and over, to my mad dash to the airport, flying to LA with Jayme’s parents, the scene on the beach, and now the best sex of my life with the woman I love. Before I close my eyes, I look over to Jayme, expecting her to be equally wiped. She’s been through a lot today too.

  Except her eyes are bright and full of light, her hands are curled beneath her chin, and her smile is wide and toothy. “It’s my favorite movie.”

  I’m such a fucking sap for this woman, but I don’t care in the slightest. “Well then, let’s go watch The Princess Bride. If I pass out in the hot tub, don’t let me drown, ’kay?”

  “No worries, I’ll save you,” she promises.

  I don’t think she realizes that she already has.

  CHAPTER 31

  JAYME

  I’m sprawled out on one of the couches in Taya’s living room, my feet in Carson’s lap as I eat a bowl full of yogurt and fresh berries. Taya sits opposite us, drinking a Red Bull and champagne cocktail that she calls ‘Liquid Cocaine’.

  How her heart doesn’t explode on the combination is something I’ll never understand, except that she dances and works out enough to handle it. Still . . . “Really?”

  “Hey, you have coffee. Some people have mimosas. This is just my own mix of alcohol and caffeinated goodness,” she argues.

  “Is it good?” Toni asks from the television screen where she’s video calling us from Carson’s condo.

  “No.” Carson’s barked answer overlaps Taya’s loud sip of delight.

  “Mmmhmm.”

  Guess it’s my job to rally this meeting back to its purpose, as per usual. “Guys, so we need to discuss how best to address the latest social media firestorm you three started.”

  Taya scoffs. “That’s your deal, babe. You tell me where to look and what to say, and I’ll do it.”

  That’s a bold-faced lie if ever I’ve heard one. Taya never does what anyone tells her to do, not even me. Maybe least of all, me. Because she knows we’re solid forever. But I can’t be too angry at her for lying when she’s the one who got Carson here so we could get our stuff figured out.

  And oh, we figured some things out last night. On the bed, in the hot tub, and on one of those lounge chairs on the pool deck.

  As if he can sense me thinking about him, Carson shifts beneath my feet and I can feel his thickness. I wiggle my foot, rubbing him with my heel subtly.

  “If I may say so, Jayme . . . I don’t think that’s going to help,” Toni says, sounding rather adultly professional for a college freshman.

  “Oops! Sorry,” I tell her. “I kinda forgot you can see us too.”

  She laughs. “That’s how video calls work.”

  I shake my head. “Right. Videos, that’s what we were talking about.”

  I’ve watched Carson’s viral video asking Taya for help dozens of times, and her answering video half as many times. That’s what we have to figure out a response for because people are clamoring for answers.

  Who was Carson looking for? Did he find them?

  What was Taya talking about with her cryptic answer?

  What happened after that? What about the ring and the babies?

  These are all questions being posed in stitched videos that are going almost as viral as the originals now.

  “What’s the issue again?” Taya asks. “Why can’t you two just do a lovey-dovey, smooch-fest thing? That’s what everyone wants, anyway.”

  I sigh. She hasn’t been listening at all. “Because I’m the behind-the-scenes person. I don’t want to be on camera, and it’d torpedo things if I became recognizable, professionally and personally, and you know that. People start digging, and shit hits the fan.”

  I glare at Taya, not able to say everything I want to because while Carson is trustworthy with my family secret, Toni isn’t. It’s no fault of her own, she’s just young and doesn’t understand the risk that comes with a family like mine. She was proud to finally be claimed publicly by Ben Steen when her parents got married, so my wanting to be completely separate from my dad would be a hard pill to swallow for her.

  “Oh.” She nods. “Yeah, that.”

  “So, no Jayme,” I say, pointing to myself. “But Carson and Taya need to be in the video. He’s thanking you, you say no problem.”

  Toni interrupts, tutting. “People are gonna think they’re together if you do that.”

  Taya snorts so hard that her Liquid Cocaine comes out of her nose. “No, they ain’t. Look at us, nobody would think that.”

  I look from Carson to Taya, both beautiful, smart, wealthy people. Stranger things have happened. I’m glad they didn’t.

  “Okay, what if I stand behind Carson with my hand on his shoulder but my face off-screen. He can glance up lovingly—”

  “Done.” Carson agrees easily with that part, making me smile.

  “Done.” Taya agrees.

  “Done.” Toni agrees too.

  But they’re not only agreeing to my hand modeling in the video. They’re done with it all.

  “Wait, I wasn’t finished,” I argue, still working out the camera angles and verbiage to ensure it answers the questions but doesn’t reveal too much.

  “We got this,” Carson promises. “I’m like a pro at this now.”

  I look at him, wryly amused. “Do I need to remind you of why we met?”

  “Maybe. But we can do that later when Toni can’t see.” He licks his lips and gives me a sexy smirk, but then his eyes flick to the side in a quick look of annoyance. “And Taya isn’t listening outside the door.”

  “Good luck with that,” she quips, still rubbing her nose a bit after the reverse drink. Yeah, Carson’s going to have to learn that side-eye doesn’t work with Taya, and she likely took the door comment as a fresh challenge. She’ll be hanging out by every door we walk through like a bouncer now, probably singing Let’s Get It On to serenade us.

  A few minutes later, Carson’s phone is set up on a tripod and Taya’s ring light is angled toward their faces on the couch. I’m standing behind them like we planned.

  “Hey, people! Got a little update for you. I helped my man, Carson, find his true love or some shit.” Taya tilts her head to Carson like she didn’t do anything more than tell him the time.

  Carson smiles stiffly, not a natural in front of the camera in the slightest, which is somehow what makes him extra sexy on the screen. “Yeah, uh . . . Taya helped me. And I’d like to say thank you.”

  He goes quiet, and Taya smacks him before I can press my hand on his shoulder. “Tell ’em you two are in love and shit.”

  “Oh.” Carson lifts his hand, taking mine and pressing a kiss to my knuckles. That was unscripted, but when his eyes lift to meet mine with his lips still against my hand, I forget what we talked about. “We’re in love.”

  Taya smiles at us happily and then turns back to the camera and leans forward, her finger pointing at the lens. “Now don’t go thinking I’m in the business of helping out assholes online. This was a one-time deal for a friend, so don’t be tagging me in your ‘help me get a prom date’ business. Mmkay?”

  She flops back to the couch, looking at her nails haughtily. “And that’s a wrap, bitches.”

  I run around the couch to press the red button on the screen. “Okay, let me do some editing and then we’ll post it. Hopefully, it’ll stop the snowball from rolling.”

  “You do that,” Taya tells me. “I gotta get gone now that this situation is straightened out. I bailed on studio time when you needed me, and I think I can go back and trust that you’re in good hands.” She dips her chin, glaring at Carson.

  “Absolutely,” he answers. “Very good. And thank you, Taya.” He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to his side, and squeezes my ass with one of those aforementioned hands.

  “Thank you again, Taya,” I tell her, lost for words. What she did for me is beyond friendship. She’s my sister. I worm my way from Carson’s grasp and hug Taya tightly.

  “You know I got you.” She pats my ass, too, and Carson growls jealously behind me. To me, she whispers, “He’s so easy to rile up. Gonna be fun.”

  “Don’t be too mean,” I warn her. “I need you both on my team.”

  At that, they both laugh. “Bitch, we are Team Jayme. You call the plays and we go to twerk,” Taya replies before dropping to a squat and popping her ass a couple of times.

  “Uhm, I’m not sure about . . . that,” Carson says slowly. “Think I might start another scandal if I did that.”

  “I’ll teach you sometime,” Taya threatens.

  After Taya leaves, it feels weird to be here, like this is a special place for Carson and me, a protective bubble away from the real world. But I want to get back to the real world, with us side by side.

  Carlo makes the arrangements and drives us back to the airport and the waiting plane. The flight is easy, and before I know it, we’re landing again. As we walk down the steps of the plane, I realize something. “Oh, I don’t have a car here. I had Javier drive me.”

  Carson smirks devilishly. “I’ve got my motorcycle right over there. You want to go for a ride?”

  I think back to the first time I rode his motorcycle with him and how exciting and terrifying it was. I felt unsure with Carson, wild and untethered, with the wind rushing past me and honestly uncertain whether I could help him as a client.

  Things are so different now.

  I feel grounded and sure of not only myself in deeper ways, but of Carson. I’ve learned what’s really important and that trust can be worth the risk. Carson certainly is. He’s the biggest risk I’ve ever taken and my most valued reward.

  “I would love to,” I answer. “But no risky business. I want us to get home in one piece.”

  “Me too, Jayme.” Carson slips my helmet over my head, adjusting the clip beneath my chin. With the face shield still up, he ducks in for a quick kiss before grabbing his own helmet. “Make sure you hang on tight. It’s gonna be a hell of a ride.”