“You look so fucking good, Brax,” I mutter, my blood running faster in my veins.

  I lean to him, and lock his lips, and time stops while we explore each other as if it’s our first time, as if this is a lifetime journey.

  He bends his knees, and I position myself and slowly enter him. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth as I gently fill him up.

  I roll my hips, and he arches slightly against me. I look down.

  Hard as stone, his shaft twitches on his abs. I thrust again, and he stirs again. Slowly, I drag my gaze up to his eyes. He smiles. He was observing me all this time.

  I can’t describe the pleasure flowing through my body, and the beauty streaming in his eyes. The lust I have for him.

  I cuff his cock, his eyes getting heavy as I deftly pump him.

  “Fuck...” he mouths.

  I thrust into him while I keep rubbing his shaft. Blood flushes his face, a soft smile clinging to his lips, his eyes swimming with arousal.

  The phone starts ringing on the nightstand.

  “I’ll kill you if you stop,” he grunts.

  I lean toward him, and he pulls up to me, his cock searing my hand as we lock lips. He breathes hot in my mouth, sucking on my tongue.

  “Take me all the way, Jagger... Like that...” he murmurs in my mouth, and I rock my hips while milking his cock with my fist, and tangling his tongue with mine.

  Our breaths roll faster as I plunge into him deeper.

  “Jagger?”

  He grips my neck with force, his teeth making my lips bleed, his body curving up against mine, his cock pulsing in my grip as mine bursts, buried deep inside his body.

  His cum spills across his stomach, and on my hand while mine drips out of him.

  He gasps and growls, his nails sinking into my arms as I shake and jerk and lose my breath, still fucking him.

  It takes a few long moments before our bodies begin to slacken. He tosses his head back into a pillow, a soft smile draping on his lips.

  I roll off him and close my eyes enjoying the immense peace flowing through me.

  This feels so fucking right.

  He runs his fingers across my chest, and I flick my eyes open, tilting my head to the side.

  “You know at some point we have to get out of this bed,” I say smiling.

  He laughs softly running his long-fingered hand over his groin. Keeping my eyes on him, I snatch the phone off the nightstand.

  I tap Violet’s name, put the phone on speaker and roll on my back.

  “Hey, baby,” I say grinning and winking at Braxton. “Where are you?” I asks as traffic noise fills the background.

  “I’m going back to the hotel?”

  I pull up to my elbow.

  “What time is it there?”

  “It’s early morning.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. The usual. Mom, Brad... everybody else... I just couldn’t stay there any longer,” she says, and my smile dies out.

  Braxton locks my eyes, concern fleeting through his gaze.

  “Guess, who’s here with me,” I say, trying to cheer her up.

  “Oh, my God! Are you serious?”

  Braxton’s eyes light up with a smile.

  “Yes.”

  “Hi, baby,” he says. “When are you coming home?”

  She starts laughing.

  “Soon. I might cancel my plans and be back before Thanksgiving.”

  “Well, the sooner you come, the better,” Braxton says. “We’ll be home, waiting for you.”

  “How long are you staying?”

  “I have to go back to school by the end of the week, so you better rush,” he says, smiling warmly. “I miss you, baby.”

  “I miss you too,” she says, and her voice begins to fade away. “I’ll talk to you later,” she says and hangs up.

  I set the phone on the nightstand, and silently, sink into the pillow.

  “Jagger?” he calls me softly.

  I glance at him. His eyes look gray like the winter. He rests his hand on my arm.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Our eyes stay locked as I ponder for a moment.

  “I don’t know... Something didn’t feel right.”

  “Is it because of me?”

  I click my tongue.

  “No, no. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “She seemed fine. She sounded as if she was happy to hear me.”

  “She was... I told you she misses you. It’s something else. I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. The way she tried to make it sound as if it were nothing when she talked about her family. I know it's not nothing. I know how much their words affect her...” He listens to me, silent.“Anyway... I hope I’m wrong.”

  VIOLET, New York

  Wrapped in a long robe, I sink into a chair and look outside. It’s four o’clock in the morning, and cars swish down the street as if it’s midday.

  I stare blankly through the glass, my mom’s words coming back to me, and then Lorraine’s, and then all the stories that have happened lately. Liv and Jonas, Brad and Sheryl. Even Tony and Ella.

  Are these relationships going to last? Is mine with Jagger? And Braxton?

  Tears mist my eyes.

  The phone starts humming on the bed. I snatch it off the cover, clear my throat, and wipe off a tear before I answer the call.

  “Hey, baby.”

  “Hi,” I say, my voice catching in my throat.

  “Is everything okay?” Jagger asks, concern lacing his voice.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “You don’t sound like yourself. And you sounded a bit off last time we talked.”

  “No, no... I’m fine.”

  “Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asks, and I breathe out a chuckle.

  “Because I’m with you on the phone.” He laughs softly.

  “How is Braxton?”

  “He’s good,” he says, a grin threading through his voice.

  “How did you convince him to come with you?”

  He starts laughing, and I smile.

  “I’m sorry… That was the wrong choice of words,” I say, and his laughter fills my ear.

  “Stop doing that, Violet,” Braxton says, his voice ringing out in the background. “You’d know if you were here,” he says.

  “Anyway….” Jagger mutters. “It’s a long story,” he says.

  “Are you going home?”

  “Yes. We’re flying home tomorrow. Did you book your flight?”

  “Not yet. I’ll call you when I know for sure what day I come back.”

  “Okay. He leaves on Sunday so make sure you get back before then,” he says.

  “Okay. We’ll talk before then.”

  “Take care, baby. I love you,” he says, his voice wrapping around my heart.

  “I love you, too,” I murmur, and hang up the phone.

  I bury my face in my hands, my chest hurting.

  JAGGER, Rome

  “Signor Parker, how do you like Italy?” the interviewer, a twenty-something brunette with a thick accent asks me.

  “I love Italy,” I say, grinning, my eyes slipping to the side, where leaning against the wall, Braxton stretches a secret smile, rubbing his chin slowly, observing me.

  I quickly tear my gaze away, fearing I might give myself away.

  The woman registers my brief moment of distraction and glances over her shoulder.

  “I also love the people. They are very friendly,” I say making her shift her focus back to me.

  She drags her gaze back, and I reward her with a flirty smile.

  “You bring in some of the largest crowds. How do you explain your phenomenal success?”

  “I love what I do, and my passion reflects in the music I mix.”

  She smiles.

  “You have a lot of female fans. Is it fair to say that they may also like you personally?”

  I smirk.

  “That’s possible.”

  “A lot of them are listening to our radio show right now. So to quench their curiosity and mine, would you ever date a fan?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “Are you currently dating?”

  I crush a tell-all smile.

  “I don’t have time to date.”

  “So you’re single,” she says, throwing me a seductive look.

  I shift my eyes down to my hands.

  “No, not exactly.”

  “In love?”

  I look up at the woman.

  She’s waiting for my answer, smiling.

  “Possibly.”

  “Oh, Mister Parker. You are so mysterious,” she says, overtly flirting with me.

  She clears her throat and gets busy with a piece of paper going down the list of questions.

  “We have a lot of very young listeners. Some of them go to school or work. Some of them are in love, and many have a lot of questions when it comes to life, in general. What advice would you offer them?”

  “Be honest with yourself and try not to hurt anyone. And never forget that life without love and freedom is death.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Parker.”

  I pull the headset off and rise out of my chair while the woman’s doing a wrap-up of the segment. I walk out of the radio booth and spend a few more moments talking to the people in the radio station as they take pictures of me and I sign a few autographs.

  I motion to Braxton, and we both walk outside.

  It’s a late November evening, and soft flurries fall from the sky.

  “Where do you want to go?” he asks as I climb in his car. “Club? Dinner? Villa?”

  He pauses, and I stay quiet for a moment.

  “Pizza?” I suggest.

  He looks at me.

  “Pizza at the villa?” he asks, unable to stifle a playful smile.

  “Uh-huh,” I say, looking out the window, hiding my grin.

  8

  BRAXTON

  IBIZA, Spain

  If I’d ever imagined heaven, it would’ve sure looked like this.

  We spend the days outside, swimming, snorkeling, and sailing, enjoying the balmy weather, and the nights inside the house, sprawled on the bed, wrapped in the warmth coming from the fireplace, loving each other.

  There’s not one moment I don’t want to pinch myself to make sure this is real. Late in the evenings, I read while he mixes music. He leaves the door open, so I can observe him from the study room, and once in a while I find myself smiling.

  Being away from everything helps us gain a different perspective on things and us, and what really matters. The days and hours rush by, our time together quickly drawing to an end. I fly back to London on Sunday. He’ll be in Paris next week. I’m already looking forward to Christmas time.

  “Braxton?”

  I flick my head in his direction.

  He slips under the water before he pulls up and motions to me, and I swim to him. The sun vanishes on the horizon, the red-golden light making love with his eyes.

  I follow him, and we both submerge. The water is cold this time of year, nothing like the summer, but our bodysuits keep us warm.

  Moments later we surface, drawing air into our lungs again.

  A grin lights up his face, grains of sand shimmering on his cheek. I clean him up, and he sets his eyes on my face, studying me.

  “Good. You’re good now,” I say and give him a shove, laughing.

  He falls into the water, and I dive after him. We swim and roll and pull each other up.

  “Are you ready to go back?” I ask after a while.

  “Yeah.”

  We slice the water as we head back to the shore.

  A half hour later we sit on the beach, a small fire tossing flames in front of us. We zip down the suits, pull on long sleeved T-shirts and drape blankets on our shoulders.

  The fire crackles quietly as we watch the sunset, same way we’ve done so many times before. His eyes narrow, filled with melancholy.

  I observe him in silence.

  “Do you think she’s gonna stick with us?” he asks softly and shifts his gaze to me.

  Wet bangs touch his cheekbones. I brush them to the side.

  “What makes you think she wouldn’t? You swept her off her feet, man. ”

  “I’m not... It’s not that. And it’s not about love. I know she loves me, and she loves you too...” he says and smiles. “But life is more than that, and she’s not as strong and stubborn as you are,” he mutters.

  “I wasn’t that strong either,” I say and pause for a moment, drinking in his sunset-soaked eyes. “The thing is, we’re both attracted to you because you’re wild and free and breathe life in that side of us as well. We both want to be like you, Jagger. She even said that.”

  “I know, but the difference between you and her is that you’ve always wanted what we have right now. She, on the other hand, was never sure what she wants. She always dwelled and fought herself, and I had to pull her in. She came kicking and screaming, but every step of the way was a fight with her, and for her. And every time she went back and talked to the people from her past she shifted in a different direction. For her, it’s like looking in a mirror. Every time she glances in it, she sees a different image. Sometimes it’s us, crazy in love and wild, and sometimes, it’s nothing but a misted glass, with vague, blurred shapes. And then she quickly loses focus, and her confidence, and she’s no longer sure. She gets lost easily.”

  “Did she say something to you?”

  He rests his elbows on top of his knees, and his chin on his forearms, and then he pins his gaze on the shoreline where soft waves break against the stretch of sand.

  He reminds me of the kid he used to be.

  “No, she didn’t, but that’s the problem. It felt as if she was hiding something from me. I talked to her twice and got the same feeling. She was fine the first night when she got there, but then she went to her ex-husband engagement party, and spent more time with her family.”

  “You don’t know if anything has actually happened.”

  “No, I don’t, but she felt different.”

  His eyes lock with mine, and I see the sadness in them.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The way she talked. She was nice but far away. I didn’t feel her close. I felt her as if she was distancing herself from me. As if she was looking at me with different eyes. I don’t know how to explain it. She wasn’t angry or anything, not with me anyway, but she was deepened into her thoughts and not willing to share anything with me as if I no longer mattered.”

  I listen to him, and something tells me that his instinct might be spot on.

  “There’s nothing you can do until you know for sure what’s going on.”

  He tilts his head down and buries his face in his hands.

  I run my hand through his hair, and then I curl my arm around his shoulder and give him a hug.

  “Don’t worry. We’re not gonna let her go without a fight.”

  VIOLET, New York

  “How was the Thanksgiving dinner?” Liv asks, sliding her dessert plate closer.

  I watch her spoon sinking into three layers of luscious chocolate mousse.

  “Good. Somehow, I survived,” I say, flat, and I shift my focus to my own dessert.

  “Mmm... This is really good,” I mutter, tasting a slice of chocolate cake. “How come I didn’t know about this restaurant?”

  “They opened after you’d left.”

  “Hmm... Things change fast,” I say smiling. “I’ve been gone for a few months, and the world has turned upside down.”

  She smiles naughtily.

  “That includes me?”

  I give her a double take.

  “Yeah, you too,” I say, and we stay silent for a few moments.

  “Are you ready to fly back home?”

  “Yes. Listen...” I say with a different voice, a bit shaky as I grapple with my nervousness.

  I set the dessert spoon on the plate, and push it to the side.

  “Regarding that offer... How long do you need me to do consulting work for Rapt?”

  Her eyes widen with surprise.

  “What exactly are you saying?”

  “I thought that maybe I should spend some time here, and who knows perhaps I can find a few more clients.”

  She stops eating.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes,” I say with a quiet voice. “I gave it some thought, and it’s something I’d like to try.”

  “Why? I mean, I understand why, but what made you consider staying? You can work remotely.”

  “I know, but I think now is a good time to try to do this here.

  “Are things okay back home?”

  “Yes, they are,” I say, my stomach tied in knots. “That’s not the problem.”

  “Then what is the problem? Are you having second thoughts?”

  I smile bitterly.

  “I don’t even know if they are second thoughts. Maybe now I see things from a different perspective,” I say.

  “It’s because of what your mom said to you?”

  I flick my hand.

  “No, no... She’s telling me the same old story. She can’t change the way I think no matter how much she tries.”

  “Then what is it? Is life so bad in Spain?” she asks, smiling.

  “Not at all. In fact, that is part of the problem. These past few months I have completely lost track of my life,” I say seriously, and her smile withers away. “Things were great and still are, and I love Jagger with all my heart, but him coming into my life so soon after my divorce made me lose sight of one important thing. When I filed for divorce, I promised myself that I’d never be tied down again, and although my life with him is far from conventional and restrictive, it doesn’t let me do a lot of things. I love working for myself, but I also like to interact with people. With him being on the road all the time, Spain doesn’t feel like home to me. On the other hand, my mom may be wrong about a lot of stuff, but she sure is right about one thing. I’ve made a lot of sacrifices to be with him. I gave up my job, my place and my whole life in New York. The only thing he did was to move to a place where he wanted to be, to begin with.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  “I want to do consulting work for a few weeks, see how it goes and where it leads me, and who knows? Maybe I’ll open my own shop after that.”