I sat on the couch in the hotel suite, one girl on my lap, a second to my right, and a third to my left. A few more danced in front of me, putting on a show, hoping I’d watch. But all I could think was ‘damn it.’ I wanted to see Ana again after the show. I wanted her.

I’d headed to the after-party after I couldn’t find her and didn’t hear from her. Then my phone had buzzed with rejection. She was in a goddamned car heading back to S.F. When was the last time I’d been rejected? I had to search my memory for that one. It had to be thirteen or fourteen, the years when I’d first met Connor at boarding school in England. Those upper crust aristocratic Brits had wanted nothing to do with either of us. At my full height with none of my adult bulk and muscle, I’d rattled around that cold campus like a ghost. Seemed the only time people noticed me was to sneer or shove. Thank God for Connor. Had we not met and started playing music together, I don’t know what I would have done.

But what was I doing sitting at an after-party literally covered in pussy thinking about those dark days?

“You were amazing tonight.” A girl with candy-red hair and lips whispered into my ear.

“Thanks.” I have her waist a squeeze. But then I eased them all off of me and stood up. The dancing girls lit up with excitement. Was I joining them? But I disappointed them all, heading through a bedroom with three or four people making good use of the bed. Not surprisingly, Connor was one of them, snorting coke off of a boob. Again?

“Where you going, old man?” He called out, a devilish grin on his face, a trace of powder on his chin. He’d taken to calling me that lately, with an edge. I didn’t like thinking about it. He and I had always been so close. But more than once over the past year I’d wanted to ask, Aren’t you getting tired of this?

I mean, take snorting coke off of a boob. It wasn’t so much that it had gotten boring, but it wasn’t exactly like the first time, now was it? I hadn’t done coke in a couple of years. I didn’t like how paranoid and edgy it made me. And I could think of much better things to do with breasts. But Connor didn’t seem to be slowing down, not one bit. In fact, the more I did, the more he seemed to speed up, as if daring me to say something.

I waved him off and headed into the bathroom, splashing some cold water on my face. Drying off, I looked at myself in the mirror. I squared my shoulders and studied my reflection. Broad chest, I filled out a t-shirt well enough to get girls wet even before I picked up a guitar. I’d come a long way since those scrawny, lonely, adolescent days. Hadn’t I? I thought Ana had enjoyed herself tonight. I certainly had. And I couldn’t have been more clear, I wanted more of her. A lot more. My fingers twitched and itched to be on her skin again. I could still taste her, feel her quivering on my tongue.

I knew she’d felt it all so intensely. With Ana, there wasn’t a moment of fake. I wondered if she’d ever faked a moment in her life? Until she’d met me, of course. Now I’d entangled her in faking everything for a full month.

But I brushed aside that pang of guilt with remembering taking her on that piano bench. How sweet, how pliant, her thighs opening for me. Those sounds she made, the pants, the start of her moans. Then when she really lost it and grabbed my hair, mashing her pussy into my face. It had gotten me so hard I’d felt like I had a freaking jackhammer pressing into the zipper of my jeans. If we’d only had more time, I would have driven it home, taken her right there on the bench while she was dripping and still shaking from her intense orgasm. I’d have ridden her fast and hard right into another one, and another. She was like a drug, this woman, and right now I felt like an addict in dire need of another hit.

But addicts weren’t exactly the best decision makers. I’d signed a no-sex clause over her. What a stupid move. It hadn’t seemed like such a big deal at the time. She’d wanted it in there and I’d wanted my image restored. And now regret didn’t change reality, so maybe it was better that Ana had headed back up to the city. Breach of contract and all that.

But now what was I going to do with my massive hard-on? Where had that been a few minutes ago when I’d had semi-naked women draped all over me? Then, nothing. Now, from just thinking about Ana, I sported some fantastic wood.

I could take myself in my hand. It wouldn’t take long. It would feel good, grasping my long, hard shaft in my palm and giving myself release. But what the fuck? I was in the bathroom hiding from groupies thinking about jerking myself off?

God damn it. There was only one thing to do. And it wasn’t standing around by myself in a bathroom. I wasn’t supposed to head back to New York until Monday. I was supposed to give out a few scoops about how much I missed Ana and then after the weekend I’d go and “surprise” her at work. Cue adorable reunion. Click.

But why not really surprise Ana in New York a day early? Who knew, we might even steal some time together without anyone finding out? I might get Ana to myself, all to myself, far away from the cameras and prying eyes. I could think of a few things I’d like to do to her. She had a lot more orgasms in store.

Six o’clock Sunday night I stopped by Ana’s apartment. I had her address from the reams of legal documents we’d both had to sign. She lived in a seedy section of Brooklyn. I didn’t like the idea of her walking around there by herself at night. I didn’t exactly see men with guns holding people up, but it seemed like at least even odds it would happen at some point on her block that evening.

“Who is it?” I didn’t recognize the female voice speaking to me through the intercom.

“I’m a friend of Ana’s.” With a name like mine, you didn’t throw it around. It could go off like a hand grenade, and I wanted my entrance to have much more stealth.

“Yeah? What’s her favorite color?”

What? “Um…” We hadn’t exactly had that discussion. What colors had I seen her wearing? Lots of black, come to think of it. “Black?”

“Brrrnt. Wrong.” The woman gave me the buzzer sound. Then I heard some rustling and a few muffled words exchanged.

“Hello?” Ana now spoke, and I smiled at the sound of her voice.

“Hey, Ana. It’s me.”

“Ash?!?” She practically shrieked through the intercom. I looked around nervously to see if anyone on the street had heard, but it didn’t seem I’d been discovered.

“Can I come on up?” She buzzed me in. I climbed up three flights of dingy stairs and three women stood in a doorway waiting for me when I reached the top. One had her mouth hanging wide open, another had bright blue hair and a lip piercing, and the other was perfect. In grey sweatpants and a huge Queens College sweatshirt that seemed to swallow her whole, Ana had her hair piled up on top of her head in a scrunchie. A few tendrils escaped and I wanted to twirl them around my fingers.

“What are you doing here?” Ana gasped, hands up to her mouth.

“I came to see you. Is that OK?”

“Um…” She flushed a gorgeous shade of pink. Much like she had after that orgasm I’d given her on the piano bench. It looked good on her. Maybe I should have said that was her favorite color. I planned to see it on her a whole lot more.

“Come in.” She seemed to remember her manners and the three of them stepped to the side. “I had no idea. I thought you were going to come by the library tomorrow at noon?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t want to wait to see you. I thought maybe we could get some dinner.”

“Ash Black.” The one with her mouth hanging open managed to say my name.

“Hi there.” I stuck out my hand to greet her and she stared at it as if it were a marvel.

“This is Jillian.” Ana introduced her, but that didn’t snap her out of her trance. “And this is Liv.” The blue-haired, pierced one stared me down with suspicion. I didn’t try to shake her hand.

“Are you free?” I asked Ana. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“No. Yeah. I mean, yes I’m free and no I haven’t eaten dinner.” Ana looked down at her sweats and suddenly realized she was wearing them. “Oh!” She smoothed them down as if it would magically alter them into something cooler, but she shouldn’t bother. She looked adorable.

“You don’t have to change,” I offered. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a pretty woman in baggy sweats. Lingerie, sexy dresses, skin-tight jeans, that happened every day. This was kind of cute. I still preferred her naked, though. “But if you want to—”

“Yeah, I’ll go do that.” She turned to her bedroom. Then she paused and turned back to look briefly at Liv. “Be nice,” she admonished.

“Ash Black,” Jillian repeated, her brain clearly having trouble processing my presence.

“How are you?” I asked. She gaped at my smile.

“So what corporation owns you?” Liv spat at me. She wore a leather choker around her neck with big, angry metal studs.

“What do you mean?”

“What’s your label?”

“Sony.”

She nodded. “Big brother. Do you know they’re spying on us? Recording everything we do. Violating our privacy. Recording all our preferences and habits.”

“You mean, like, sales stats for marketing?”

She waved that off. “You can call it that.” She glared at me, the enemy.

“Ash Black,” the other one repeated. Somewhere in-between the two reactions would be nice. So far I wasn’t off to a great start with her roommates, with one hating me and everything I stood for, and the other one unable to do anything but repeat my name. I had my work cut out for me.

“What do you think about how corporate rock is killing the independent artist?” Liv shot at me.

“Uh…” I was so eloquent under pressure.

“Back in the 70s all that mattered was if you could sing,” she said, accusingly. “Now you have to look hot.”

“Are you saying that I look hot?” I teased her. She started, losing her composure for a moment. Laughter rang out from behind me.

“He got you, Liv.” Ana came back into the main living area, not really big enough to call it a room though I guessed it functioned as that. Kitchen/den/living room/entryway all in one. She looked radiant, now in a simple long-sleeved shirt and jeans as she tied her hair back with a ribbon. I didn’t even think she’d put on any makeup. Wow, she was a knockout.

“Ash Black,” Jillian murmured.

“OK.” Ana patted her dazed roommate on the shoulder. “We’re going to head out now.” She smiled up at me and I could think of nothing I’d rather do.

“You guys should come to my show tonight,” Liv called after us.

“OK.” Ana said it bright and tight and I already knew her well enough to understand that she felt uncomfortable about the invitation.

“Good to meet you!” I called behind us, and before the door closed I could hear a mixture of angry muttering and one last time for good luck, my name on repeat.

Ana led me to a small place around the corner, a Thai restaurant. Simple and inconspicuous, with few patrons and dim lighting, it looked perfect. I still kept my baseball cap pulled down low. I didn’t want to risk getting spotted.

We ordered and after a little chit chat, I asked her to tell me more about her past, her family, how she’d ended up here in life. It was all in the dossier prepared for me by the PR firm, but reading really wasn’t my thing and I much preferred it told to me by Ana. Sitting there petite and sweet, she grew animated as she told me about her hard-working parents, how much they’d sacrificed to move to America and start over so they could make a better life for her. They’d poured time and effort and money into her piano study, hoping one day she’d be able to turn her talent into a profession.

“You’re so talented,” I told her, bullshitting her not in the least. She’d really impressed me the other day. “I’m sure you could.”

“Not everyone can make a living with music,” she corrected me. Though she didn’t sound bitter about it. “Anyway, I love being a librarian. And I can always play music.”

“I’d love to hear you play again.” Sitting with her, both of us making music together, I didn’t have words to describe how it had felt, so natural and alive. Connor and I had always been able to collaborate with ease, feeding ideas and building on them together, creating something out of nothing. But I’d never felt that kind of a connection with a woman before. It almost scared me.

“I’ve never…” Somehow I wanted to let her know how much it meant to me. That this wasn’t all for show. “Making music with you, I’ve never…” Why were words so hard right now? I swallowed. “The women I usually date aren’t exactly…I’ve never really dated a musician before.”

She burst out laughing. OK, not exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for.

“The last woman you dated was Mandy Monroe!”

Point taken. She was right. And Mandy Monroe was the real deal, able to sing and play guitar and write songs with the best of them. But, funny thing, we’d never once done it together. She’d always been a whole lot more interested in going out together, seeing and being seen, and I guessed that had never bothered me. Now, though, it seemed strange.

“What happened between the two of you?” Ana asked me, her light brown eyes watching me with keen insight. “I don’t mean to pry, but I feel like maybe I should know the real story? I am here as part of the official clean up team.”

She smiled at me and I smiled back, but it didn’t sit right with me, I didn’t like her thinking of herself like that. Even though she was right.

“We met at an awards show,” I began, the way so many celebrity couplings did. That or an after-party after an awards show. Or the classic intro through PR firms, that happened a lot, too. Like the matchmaking of old with a celebrity twist, each involved party understood the purpose and limitations of the pairing. I ran Ana through the course of our brief and predictable relationship, meeting up at each other’s shows, vacationing in Cabo.

“I thought maybe she’d be different. She wasn’t.” It might sound as if I were making light of a painful situation, but as I spoke about it I realized the relationship had never touched beneath the surface. I’d never cared about Mandy during the months we were together even a fraction as much as I cared about Ana.

“And the whole break up?” Ana pressed. “I’ve seen the video.”

I winced. I figured she had, the whole world had seen it. Even I had to admit, it made good TV. “I can’t tell you it was fake,” I admitted. “I said all that. I was an asshole. But Mandy set it all up. We were done and she knew it. Earlier that night she’d already thrown a vase into a wall and told me I was a worthless prick. The tears at that table, she set that up for the cameras. She wanted to get one last headline out of me before we were through.”

“That’s cold.”

I shrugged. “She’s a savvy businesswoman. She saw an opportunity to get a spike in sales and she took it.”

Ana shook her head. “You’re surrounded by vipers.”

“You think?” That sounded grim.

“Mandy, Lola, Joel. And I’ve got to say, your friend Connor’s a real gem.”

I winced. But even I had to admit, I’d been furious when he’d hit on her at my house. It didn’t really make sense. That was what Connor did. That was what I did, what we did together. But couldn’t he see that Ana was different?

“Sorry again about that,” I lamely offered. She nodded. “Connor and I go way back.”

“You mentioned.”

A couple of people entered the restaurant and sat down at the table right next to us. I shifted in my seat, angling my profile away with my brim down low. Tense, I waited, but they began chatting together, oblivious to my presence. I exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“Is it worth all of this?” she asked.

“Sorry, what?” I’d become so engrossed in sussing out whether we’d been discovered, I’d nearly forgotten where I was and who I was with.

“Your fame? Is it worth it? I mean, people hide in trash bins and pop out at you to get a good candid photo of you. That’s got to feel awful.”

She was right. It did. I just hadn’t talked to anyone outside the fishbowl in so long I’d almost forgotten that I was in one.

And I’d brought her into it, set her down right in the middle of the muck and invited everyone to come and see. Sweet Ana the children’s librarian, who now had headlines making fun of her in her big coat and my buddy-old-pal Connor asking her to suck his dick.

“Paris,” I said, without thinking it through first. I did some of my best thinking without thinking at all.

“What?”

“I want to take you to Paris,” I repeated. The cobblestone streets and gas lamps, the tiny bistros and chocolatiers and cafes. The city of romance, with a million shadowy, hidden spots where we could tuck ourselves away. “Have you ever been?”

“No, I’ve never been to Europe. We have family in Russia and my parents have talked a lot about heading there one day, but it’s a really expensive trip.”

“We can go to Russia next.”

“Next?” Now she looked confused, and she was right. There wouldn’t be a next. So, I’d focus on the now.

“So, Paris. What do you say?”

“Don’t you have a show on New Year’s Eve in Vegas? Paris isn’t on our PR itinerary.”

“Plenty of time,” I assured her. “We can fly there red-eye on the 26^th. That’ll give us four days before we have to fly back.”

A smile snuck across her lovely face, her eyes lighting up. “Really? Paris?”

“Paris.”

“I mean, Paris!”

“You’ll love it.”

“Let’s go!”

My phone rang, breaking the moment. Lola. She always flipped out if I didn’t pick up, and she usually made it quick. “Sorry, I should take this.” I turned away from Ana as Lola shouted into my ear, thrilled. My biggest sponsor had re-entered the fray, agreeing once again to back my show in Vegas.

“This girl is priceless!” Lola yelled into my ear. I had to agree, though probably not for the same reasons. “I can’t wait for her to dump you! That’s going to shoot you over the moon.”

“Yeah.” Significantly less enthusiasm from me about that future development.

I ended the call and we ended our meal, but I wasn’t ready for the night to end yet. Thankfully, Ana didn’t seem ready, either. We stood together in entrance of the restaurant, neither of us taking the plunge into the frigid December evening air.

“So what’s this about your roommate’s show tonight?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that.” She shook her head. “She does performance art? Or live installations? I’m not exactly sure what to call them.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

She looked at me with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. “The last show, Liv had this huge cut of beef on a table. She slowly cut it, paper thin, then stitched the pieces together into a shirt.”

I nodded. OK, then.

“And she was naked.”

“Let’s go see what she has planned for tonight!”

Ana shook her head with a light laugh, wrapping her scarf around her neck. She pulled her chestnut hair out so it fell in loose waves. I could picture it fanned out on a pillow as she lay on my bed. Down, boy.

This woman had me so worked up. I’d had my dick in my hands more in the past week than I had over the past year. I was always a horny bastard, but I usually just turned to whatever wet, willing pussy was right next to me. But this time, only Ana would do. But she was the one I’d legally bound myself to not have. How was that for a great joke?

“Are you sure you want to go?” Ana asked. “I mean, I kind of have to go, because Liv’s my roommate. But you don’t have to.” She looked up at me as if she truly couldn’t believe I was sincere. I had to agree. A week ago I would not have been going to an art student’s live performance show in Brooklyn. But now, I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather be. It was with Ana.

“Absolutely.” I linked my arm through hers and we set out into the streets. The Pratt Institute was only a couple of blocks away, and her roommate had reserved an underground space next to it until midnight. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d just walked around city streets incognito, but it seemed like we hadn’t been spotted. It could have something to do with not being at a VIP club or a celebrity-studded after-party or all the other places I usually went with other famous musicians and models and actors. Guess I had been living in a bit of a bubble.

I was out of it now. We pulled open a graffiti-strewn metal door, the kind that seemed like it should be sealing off a walk-in freezer. Down a narrow stairwell, we descended into a dimly lit maze of hallways perfectly suited to a horror movie. The only sounds were an ominously loud drip from a leaky pipe and a buzz from a malfunctioning light bulb.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” I had to ask.

“It’s where she did it last time,” Ana confirmed. “She said she wants viewers to feel unsettled.”

“Job well done,” I commended her. Ana led us down to an unmarked door and opened it.

Inside, the room was brightly lit, the walls stark white. The only furnishing was a table. On it, her roommate, Liv, sat buck naked. Directly behind her on the wall, spraypainted in black, were the words “DON’T LOOK AT ME.” Liv sat there glaring at us.

A few other people stood near us in what I guessed was the viewing area. So we all could not look at her?

“OK.” Ana exhaled, holding my hand.

“I’m confused,” I murmured to her. She nodded in agreement. “Do we talk to her?”

“No, I don’t think we’re supposed to,” she whispered.

“Are we supposed to look at her?” Ana shrugged, and I could tell she was suppressing a nervous laugh. “Do you get what she’s doing?”

She leaned in close to me, her hand on my chest. I liked the feel of it there, light yet warm.

She whispered in my ear, “I have no clue.” Now I had to suppress a laugh. “I know she wants people to come here and see this so let me just give her a little shout out and then we can go.” Before I knew was she was doing, she held out her camera, snapped a quick photo of her roommate and then pressed the infamous button “post.”

“Did you just post that photo online?” I asked, too late.

“Yes, why?”

“Where?”

“Just Facebook. It’s not like I have that many friends.” She apologized, sensing my alarm.

“And you probably haven’t disabled the GPS in your camera phone.”

“Disabled the GPS?”

I rested my head in my hands. The clock was now ticking. I wondered how long it would take for us to get tracked down. “Maybe I shouldn’t have posted the photo?” She sounded worried, looking at me guilty and concerned.

It wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t used to having millions of people follow her whereabouts. Getting used to that kind of a spotlight didn’t exactly happen overnight.

“Well, we might as well make the most of it. They know we’re here now. Let’s get Liv some press.” I smiled at Ana, put an arm around her shoulders and turned my phone on for a selfie. In the camera screen, the words “DON’T LOOK AT ME!” shouted out loudly from the background.

Click. I wrote a quick note: ‘Amazing art exhibit!’ Post. That sealed the deal. Then I grabbed Ana’s hand. “Let’s get out of here before they find us.”

Swiftly, we headed back down the dark corridor, but not quick enough. I heard the clatter of boots coming down the stairs, the chatter of voices, “Down here! They’re down here!” That didn’t take long. They must have been staking out Ana’s apartment, waiting in the neighborhood for us to surface.

“This way.” Adrenaline pumping through me, I pulled Ana down the other direction, our feet quicker now, taking us down a long corridor. I tried a door, locked. Then another one, open.

Pulling her in with me, I shut the door quick, locked it and flicked on the dim light. We’d found a supply closet with shelves of paper towels and trash bags.

Breathing heavy, we stood together. I pressed a finger to her lips and we both waited, silent, wondering if we’d been discovered. A moment passed, then another. Sweet privacy. Just me, a bunch of cleaning supplies, and a delicious, curvy woman whose sighs and moans I couldn’t stop thinking about.

I leaned down, pressing my forehead to hers.

“Do you think we escaped?” she whispered, her hands to my hard-breathing chest.

“I think we’d better stay here a little longer to make sure.” My hand underneath her chin, I tilted her head up. Her lips were so soft and welcoming, I nearly lost myself in just kissing her, so sweet and delicious and inviting. Then she brought her hand up to my hair, threading her fingers through it and I heard a soft, needy moan in the back of her throat. She felt it, too, this pull between us, this fierce need.

Pressing against her, I backed her up against the wall. My hand behind her head, I held her as I kissed her with feverish urgency. My hips against hers, I ground into her, a hand down to her ass. I cupped her, pushing her against me. She gasped, winding a leg around mine.

“I want to sink into you,” I growled, a hand now at her waistband.

“Ash!” She cried out, her hand at my hip, pulling me toward her. And then that sweet, little librarian went and bit my lower lip. She gave it a nice, firm bite, letting me know exactly how much she wanted me.

“I want to fuck you, Ana,” I groaned, grinding into her. “I want to fuck you right here up against this wall.”

“Oh, yes!” She was panting now, pulling at my clothes, unzipping my jacket and trying to rip it off of me. I had her jeans unbuttoned and down her hips so fast I might have set a new record. She wore pretty little panties, all lace and not much to them, but now wasn’t the time to savor and admire. Now was the time to rip them to the side and plunge my finger up inside of her hot, wet pussy.

I groaned as I felt her desire, how slick she already was for me, how much she needed me, just like I did her. So ready for me, so desperate, shoved up against the wall for the taking.

“Do you want it, Ana?” I wanted to hear it from her, wanted to hear this good girl go bad, tell me exactly what she needed. I thrust my long finger up inside her slick folds, stroking her, pressing down on her sensitive clit.

“Ash!” She grabbed onto my shoulders, clawed at my back, sank her mouth onto my throat, licking and kissing and sucking me.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Ana? Right here, up against the wall?”

“Ash, yes,” she panted, nearly crazy for it, shoving her pussy against my hand, mewling as I thrust my finger in again.

“I want to fuck you hard, Ana. Can you take it hard?”

“Yes!”

“Tell me.”

“Fuck me hard, Ash. Please.” She panted so needy, I wondered if I could make her come right then, with just my finger and dirty talk. She liked it. I wondered if anyone had ever talked like that to her before. A surge of jealousy ripped through me. I didn’t want anyone to talk like that to her, not in the past, not in the future. Ana was mine.

I focused on her clit, slick and swollen and needy, circling and pressing, pushing down on it, stroking her folds. She thrust against me, wanton, her leg hooked around mine, her head now thrown back, her lips parted.

“I’m big, Ana,” I said, pushing my thick, hard shaft against her hip so she could feel my length. “Are you going to take my whole cock inside of you?” I leaned down and sucked on her earlobe, finger-fucking her hard just the way I wanted to do with my cock. She shuddered, her fingers biting into my muscular biceps. “Are you going to come just thinking about it?”

“Yes!” she screamed out and did just that, losing herself, shuddering and coming on my finger, calling out and bucking against me.

“That’s it, Ana. Show me how much you need this.” I pulled up her shirt, ripped down her bra cup and seized her breast in my mouth. With a long, hard suck I took her nipple into my mouth, pushing up against her clit, milking one long, last shudder and scream from her as she fully climaxed.

“You need this, baby,” I murmured to her as I unbuttoned my jeans. “You need my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she moaned.

“What’s that over there?”

Shit, voices were out in the hallway, followed by footsteps coming closer. I flicked the light switch down. They’d probably already seen the dim illumination under the door, but there was a chance they hadn’t. We stayed silent, panting in the darkness, listening to them shuffle around the hallway.

It all came back to me. The cameras following our every move. The PR ruse we were supposed to be playacting. The no sex clause I’d signed. Reality rushed at me, heaping all around my feet like pig slop. Damn it.

“We can’t do this, Ash,” Ana whispered, quiet as a mouse, but I could still hear her. Shit. She’d remembered, too. Reality, how it sucked.

“I know, I just…” Want you more than anyone I’ve ever wanted in my entire life? Can’t stop thinking about you and won’t rest until I’ve completely consumed you? I didn’t know how to explain it to myself, let alone to Ana as we stood hiding in a dark closet. So I did what I could, finding her mouth and taking it with mine, plunging my tongue into her, exploring, tasting. She met my kiss with fervor, passion, her hands on my chest again, exploring and caressing. I hadn’t even felt her hands on my skin yet. I’d always worn clothes with her, but I wanted to strip us both down completely bare to each other’s heat.

“We can’t.” She stopped me.

Well, fuck. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to tear up that no-sex clause in our contract. But I could think of something else that was perfect to do in a dark closet. I’d had a great meal, but nothing yet for dessert.

Softly, in her ear, I murmured, “I want to taste you.”

She sighed in response, melting into me, her hand fisting in my hair. But she said, “No, Ash, they’re right outside the door.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about how sweet you taste.” I licked her neck, long and slow. Even in the darkness, I could tell she bit down on her lip, working hard to keep quiet. We couldn’t be discovered. I liked making her struggle, exactly like that.

“It’s going to be hard for you, Ana,” I teased her, one hand making its way again down her stomach, down between her legs. “You’re going to have to stay quiet.” I cupped my hand possessively on her mound, claiming her, stroking her heat. “You’re not going to be able to make a sound. Even when I make you come.”

She swallowed hard, her head falling back against the wall as I dropped to my knees. I pulled her jeans down and off so I could spread her thighs wider. I brought one of her legs over my shoulder. I demanded full access. And I wanted to take my time. It was only prudent, after all. We didn’t want to rush on out there and get a whole bunch of photos taken of us, now did we?

No, we needed to stay good and hidden. And I didn’t want my Ana to get bored standing around in a closet with me. I needed her to enjoy herself.

I know I’ve mentioned that I have ADHD, that I have a short attention span, that I tend to keep up a frenetic pace. But not all of the time. Music, that kept my focus.

And Ana. She tasted like honey, sweet and feminine, her sticky desire calling to me. I couldn’t feel more riveted, my tongue swirling against her making more. I took my time, going slowly, licking along every inch, paying attention to every quiver, learning exactly what she liked and how she liked it.

She liked it when I nipped her clit. Ana liked it when I got rough with her. My cock throbbed in response. There was a world of uncharted waters we could explore together. But just now, I had fun, not giving her what she wanted, going slow and gentle, making her crazy. I loved it when she lost her cool, lost her ability to hold back and started clawing at me, an animal in the dark, no one there to see her ravenous hunger. She could bare it to me, show me how much she craved me, how desperately she needed to come. Then, only then when she was about to die, I gave it to her. A sharp, hard bite right on her swollen, slick clit.

She smacked her head back into the wall with a muffled groan of desire and I went back to slow, long strokes, taking it back a notch. Kissing along her inner thighs, finding a drop of juice there to swirl on my tongue. She was literally dripping for me, my sweet Ana, and I couldn’t get enough.

Finally, she could barely stand on her leg even though I was supporting almost all of her weight with my hands and shoulder. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to keep licking her like a lion, eating and tasting and savoring every last drop, but she needed to come. My woman needed her orgasm. Her entire body shuddered and roiled and seethed with building tension, aching to consume every inch of her. Who was I to deny that?

With a ferocious suck and a bite right down where she needed it most, my teeth right on her most sensitive nub, I growled into her pussy and she came, violently in my mouth. Her hands fisted and she nearly ripped my hair out at the roots. I loved the pain, loved the proof of how intensely she felt all this. I licked and licked, loving her back down to the ground as she quietly, so quietly melted into me after the fierceness of her orgasm.

Holding her securely in my arms, I made my way up her body, kissing her through her clothes, her stomach, her breasts, her shoulders. She buried her head in the crook of my neck, her arms thrown around me as if holding on for dear life. Like she’d been shipwrecked and I was her life raft. That worked just fine for me.

“Are you trying to kill me?” she asked, softly.

“Yes,” I agreed, chuckling.

“You’re doing a good job of it.”

I held her, thinking she was doing a pretty good job of it, too. And not in the way Lola had spoken of, earlier. I didn’t like thinking about that side of it, the fake façade on all of this. I wanted to stay right there in the dark with her, where I knew it was real. And where I didn’t have to think about the inevitable end to all of this, when Ana would brutally stomp on my heart and leave me forever. Had I thought that sounded like a great idea a week ago? One of us was crazy, either that Ash or this Ash, standing and holding Ana like my life depended on it. Either way, only one of us could make it out of this mess. I didn’t know which one it would be.