As soon as I close the door to my apartment behind Cora, I’ve got her pressed against it, her hips pinned by mine, and I kiss her hard and deep, the way I’ve been dying to since she walked out of the club.

She moans into my mouth and I take her roughly, my fingers tangle in her hair. Her nails dig into my chest.

When the kiss breaks, we’re both breathing heavily.

“Ian,” she pants, “I want to do this, but I’m gross and sweaty and smell like the club.”

She smells fine to me.

Fuck, I think I like her better with a little stink on her.

But, I have an idea.

“Shower?” I ask.

She nods. “Please.”

I gesture down the hall to the bathroom.

“You want some company?” I ask.

I lead her into the bathroom, stripping off my clothes along the way, thinking about nothing but getting Cora naked and wet. I turn on the water and adjust the temperature as she sheds her jeans and sweater and steps under the spray. She makes a show of leaning back to wet her hair, letting the water pour over her body.

For a minute, I just stand there, naked and hard, staring at her. Like it’s the first time I’ve ever seen a naked woman.

It’s almost too much.

She pulls me under the water with her and kisses me softly. She runs her fingertips over my chest, down my stomach and towards my hip to trace my V-lines, very, very slowly. Her light touch makes my eyes flutter closed.

When her fingers graze the tip of my cock, I can’t help but shudder.

“Open your eyes,” she commands, “Look at me.”

I obey, fighting back a groan, as she strokes me from root to tip.

“You get this hard for me?” she asks, her voice getting breathy.

I gasp. This feels so fucking good. Too good. I’m falling apart embarrassingly fast.

Come on, boy, hang in there.

“God, yes. All for you. You feel what you do to me?” I manage to husk out.

She doesn’t break eye contact with me as she slinks down to her knees. The grin on her face is pure evil.

“Christ,” I cry out as she drags her tongue up the underside of my cock. She moans against me, the vibrations driving me insane.

I won’t be able to hold on for much longer.

She keeps teasing me. Licking up and down. Sucking lightly, then harder on the head. Massaging my balls with her hand.

“Cora…”

She stops teasing. She wraps her lips around me, taking me as deeply as she can and sucks.

Hard.

“Fucking hell, Cora,” I growl, my teeth gritted, as I brace my hands on the tile for balance.

Her lips slide over me, taking more and more with every bob of her head.

She grips the base in a tight fist, moving it in rhythm with her mouth.

She takes me as deep as she can. I feel my cock ramming the back of her throat. For a split-second, I wonder if it’s more than she can take, but she moans again and grips me harder.

I’m officially undone.

“I’m gonna come,” I hiss, warning her.

I’ll come wherever she’ll let me. On her pouty lips. On her taut stomach. Across her perfect tits.

But she doesn’t let go. She’s gonna let me come in her mouth.

She takes one final, long, hard suck before my vision goes black.

I come like a fucking geyser down her throat, moaning and spewing out nonsense words like a damn imbecile as I do. She holds me in her mouth until I’m completely spent.

Then she swallows and God, if that isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

Cora gets back on her feet and looks up at me, proud of herself. She turns and grabs the shampoo as though nothing happened.

I must look like a pathetic heap of a man right now, the wind knocked out of me, heavy against the tile wall. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting her go without a proper thank you.

“You’re not getting away that easy,” I tell her, still breathing hard.

“There’s no way you can possibly get hard again so fast,” she teases me as she shampoos her hair.

I turn her so her back is to me and take over shampooing. I get right in under her ear and kiss her neck, sucking on her tender skin.

I whisper, “I’ll think of something, baby.”

After we finish showering, Cora and I get into my bed, damp, but finally clean and, thankfully, still naked. I lie on my back and she nestles into my arms, her head against my chest. I pull the covers over us.

I feel relaxed. A ease.

Fuck, I feel good for the first time in a long time.

Like I’m finally allowed to feel good.

But she looks contemplative.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask.

“I keep thinking about the accident,” she admits, “People keep mentioning it and then stopping themselves from saying too much. I know it’s none of my business…”

“You really want to talk about that right now?”

She looks up at me. “I know it’s early to say something like this, but I want to know about you, Ian. I know all the fame and rock star shit. But I want to know the real you. Maybe that sounds too clingy, but I’m experiencing a nasty bout of post-orgasm honesty, so sue me,” she jokes.

No one’s ever said something like that before. Knowing the Ian Brooks behind the celebrity. And admitting it without hesitation.

Apparently, she’s no better at playing-it-cool than I am.

And it makes me like her more. I hold her closer.

“If you don’t want to tell me, I understand,” she says more seriously.

That’s not it. I do want to tell her. And that kind of terrifying.

I take a deep breath. “I guess it’s kind of a cliche, you know, the band started making some waves. Our first album sold pretty well, but Blindfold, our second album, was selling like crazy. And four stupid boys who didn't know any better got a taste of stardom. We were going out all the time, drinking like crazy…”

“Drugs?” she asked.

“Not for me. Jack liked his cocaine for awhile. But he overdosed once and it scared him straight, though.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. For me, it was booze. And women.”

She looks at me, concerned.

“I’m clean,” I assure her. “I got tested recently if you want to see.”

“I trust you,” she says.

I kiss her temple. Those are some big words and I can tell she means them.

“One night, me and Dylan were pretty wasted and then this girl I was hooking up with called and invited us over. And being the idiot I was, I decided to drive.”

Cora’s eyes widen, like she can tell where this is going.

God, she has no idea.

“Long story short, I kind of passed out at the wheel. I don’t know what took over Dylan, but he grabbed the wheel and swerved just in the nick of time to avoid a head-on collision.”

“Wow,” she says. “You were lucky.”

“We were. But at the time, I saw it as… I don’t know… like a sign that we were immortal or something.”

“That’s pretty arrogant.”

“Yeah,” I start, I take a deep breath. “The next morning, I got a call. My mom and my Aunt Mary were in a car crash. Hit by a drunk driver. The driver lived. He’s in jail now. But Mom and Aunt Mary…” my voice trails off.

“Oh my God, Ian. I’m so sorry”

“Me too. My mom was a fucking saint. I mean, between my drumming and Nikki… She must’ve had a headache for years.”

“What about Nikki? She seems so together.”

“She is now,” I explain, “But she got in with a rough crowd in high school. Started partying. Stopped going to classes. My mom sent her to boarding school to get away from her shitty friends. Nikki wasn’t too happy about it. Neither was my mom.”

“What about your Dad?” she asks.

“He’s not in the picture. Left without a trace after Nikki was born. He’s dead to me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Mine’s not around either. I know what that’s like.”

I give her a squeeze.

“It should have been me who died that night. I did something stupid. Knowingly. And I deserved to pay the price for it. Instead, I lost two of the most important people in my life.”

“But you didn’t…” she starts.

I interrupt her. "I know it was a coincidence. I know that I didn’t kill them. But I felt like… I don’t know… like it it was the worst kind of karmic revenge. The world was telling me that if I acted like I was above consequence, I’d get proven wrong. On some level, I know all of that. But it doesn’t bring them back.”

“I know,” she says ruefully, “I’m sorry.”

I take a deep breath and continue. “I stopped going out. I stopped talking to people. I was still touring and playing shows and recording, but everything felt hollow. The audience meant nothing to me. Nikki said I was living like a monk. I just couldn’t stop punishing myself.”

“Pretty weird for a rock star.”

“Yeah. It’s just… for the longest time, I’ve felt like I’ll never deserve to be happy again,” I finally admit. “Wow. That’s the first time I’ve ever said that last part out loud.”

“What changed?” she asked.

“Honestly?”

Cora nods.

“You,” I admit.

“Me?” She looks at me in disbelief.

“Your picture was in the stack of head shots and as soon as I heard your name it was like I… I finally woke up.” I lean back into the pillow. I stroke Cora’s hair. I love having her here, but’s easier to say this when I’m not looking at her. “And when Nikki called to say that you were working at that club, it was like… It was like someone put the one thing I couldn’t resist in front of me and said, ‘If you’re not going to surface from this depression and live for her, you’re not going to live ever again.’”

Cora look at me, unsure of what to say. I see the tears welling in the corners of her eyes and I want to kiss them away.

I pull the covers tighter around us.

“It’s late. We should sleep,” I whisper to Cora, untangling my fingers from her hair.

She nestles into me and murmurs something as her eyes close.

“Huh?” I ask.

“You’ve suffered enough, Ian,” she whispers, “You deserve to be happy.”

People have been telling me that for months, trying to get me to start living again. But it sounds different when Cora says it.

When she says it, I actually believe it.

With some of that weight off my chest and this beautiful girl in my arms, I drift off into the most peaceful night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time.