23. Luna

23

"Is everything okay?" I asked Romeo.

Tonight's show had been another sellout, and the performance had gone without a hitch, which meant Romeo Serafini should have been smiling. But instead, his scowl was a bucket of cold water to my good mood as he strode across the room with Rocky trotting along behind him. A few folks smirked at the pink flower clipped to the shaggy patch of hair on top of the dog's head, but nobody dared to say a word to Romeo. I felt rather than saw Ryder step up to my elbow.

"Fucking paparazzi. They were taking pictures of Alessia."

"What? Why would they do that?"

"Because she was with me, and for some unfathomable reason, they think you and I are involved in more than a professional capacity."

Oh, crap. "I'm so sorry."

Romeo's scowl curved into a devastating smile. "My offer of dinner still stands, but Alessia is off limits. What kind of stronzo thinks it's okay to photograph somebody else's child?"

"I'll set the record straight. Tell them there's nothing going on between us."

"For them, a denial is as good as an admission. Just stay quiet and I'll handle it."

"H-h-handle it?"

"They'll soon learn that invading people's privacy is unacceptable." He cracked his knuckles. "Same time tomorrow with the dog?"

"Uh, yes?"

Romeo strode off, leaving Rocky dancing around my feet, and I turned to Ryder.

"What did he mean by that? What's he going to do to the reporters?"

"Put them in concrete boots and drop them in Lake Mead?"

"Be serious."

"I wasn't being entirely unserious."

"Are you crazy? Romeo isn't that type of guy. Is he?"

Ryder just put a finger to his lips and headed for my dressing room. I got momentarily distracted by his ass as I followed. He'd dressed in that ugly suit again today, but even with poor tailoring, the rear view drew the eye of most of the women and some of the men. I smiled inside because only I knew what lay beneath the shiny polyester.

Muscled perfection.

I closed the door behind us, and Rocky left little dusty paw prints on the leather couch as he made himself comfortable.

"What do you know about Romeo Serafini that I don't?" I asked.

"The Serafini family has a sketchy past."

"And you're only telling me this now? Is he dangerous?"

"Honestly, I don't much like the guy, but if I believed he was a danger to you, I'd be doing everything within my power to get you out of here."

"Why don't you like him?"

"Because…" Ryder backed me up against the wall, pressing every inch of his body against me. "That's twice Serafini's hit on you in front of me, and it pisses me off."

"He doesn't know we're together."

"That pisses me off too."

"You want me to tell him?"

Ryder sighed and brushed his lips across mine. "Not yet. I realise we can't keep this a secret forever, but if word gets out that we're involved on a personal level, who the fuck knows how Mark Antony will react? I want him out of the way before we go public."

And I wanted to keep our relationship quiet forever. We didn't need some stupid couple nickname and the extra scrutiny that came with it. Ryder was my first real boyfriend. The media would be relentless. Then there was his career, and I wanted to protect that at all costs. I could live without getting on a stage again, but I wasn't certain Ryder would cope without saving the world on a regular basis.

"Then I'll leave the big reveal up to you."

"You're not going to the office this morning?"

Ryder rolled onto his back, taking me with him. "Sunday is a day of rest."

"Actually, Monday is my day of rest."

He settled his hands lightly on my hips, and I traced a finger down his bare chest. For years, I'd been terrified of sharing a bed with a man. The thought had actually made me nauseous. But the reality was so far from my nightmares that I wished I'd done it sooner. Although I hadn't met Ryder until this year, and I couldn't imagine wanting any man the way I wanted him, so that wouldn't have worked, would it?

"Do you want another driving lesson tomorrow? Shani offered to take care of Rocky at the office."

"You think we'll be able to sneak away again?"

"I'll make sure we can."

"Then yes, a driving lesson sounds great. I swear I'll repay the favour when we get to Richmond."

"You're going to teach me to drive?"

"No, I'm going to make sure you enjoy your days off. If you're staying here this morning, does that mean we have more time to fool around?"

Ryder gave a playful smile. "What did you have in mind?"

I took a deep breath and forced my fear back into the dark box where it belonged.

"So I was reading Imagine magazine while you were out yesterday, and it turns out there are things I can do with my mouth besides singing." Ryder's dick twitched against my ass. "That's a part of my anatomy I have excellent control over."

He groaned. "Fuck, I need to take the dog out first."

"Then hurry up."

Ryder knifed up so fast I squealed. A second later, I found myself dumped onto the mattress as he ran for the door, pulling on a T-shirt as he called Rocky's name. A second later, he was back.

"Damn, I need pants."

This man made me laugh. And he made me happy. When my medical issue came to light, I thought he'd run a mile, but he seemed so…so relaxed about the whole thing. More relaxed than me, anyway.

What if I got this wrong? I told him I'd read a magazine, but I didn't mention the porn I'd tried watching. Swear on my life, I nearly puked. But I had to do this. I had to prove to Ryder that I wasn't broken beyond repair.

He came back ten minutes later, and I heard him refresh Rocky's water and toss kibble into a bowl. Then he shucked his clothes, dove onto the bed, and lifted me back on top of him.

"Okay, where were we?"

"At the point where I offered to suck your dick with barely a clue what I'm doing."

"You can't get it wrong, moon. As long as you don't use your teeth hard."

"No biting, got it."

"And when I tell you I'm about to come, move."

"Am I not meant to swallow?"

Imagine magazine had been pretty clear about men liking that, although the porn people seemed to prefer getting messy.

"Only if you want to."

"I did a tour in Japan once, so I'm used to eating weird stuff."

He pulled me down and kissed me. "Are you saying my cock is weird?"

"Uh, no?"

Another kiss. "If swallowing makes you uncomfortable, don't do it. If anything makes you uncomfortable, don't do it."

The only thing about sex that didn't make me uncomfortable was the man I'd chosen as my partner, but no way was I going to tell him that. Instead, I wriggled backward down the bed and gripped his manhood in my hands.

"Can you close your eyes?"

This would be so much harder if he was watching me.

Ryder did as I asked, and I leaned forward to give the tip a tentative lick, my ass in the air. His skin felt almost silky. No way was I fitting the whole thing into my mouth, so I stroked the shaft with my hands the way I knew he liked and got rewarded with a groan. Huh. This wasn't actually so hard. So difficult. I meant "difficult." It was definitely hard.

"That's it, moon. Just like that."

His murmured words gave me the confidence I so desperately needed. I kissed and licked and sucked and stroked, and Ryder's hips began to buck. But gently. I knew he was holding back. And while he thrust, I was utterly unprepared for the rush of heat between my legs. For the delicious knot of tension that tightened in my belly. I was so busy clamping my thighs together and resisting the urge to touch myself, to bring the release I craved, that his warning barely registered.

"Luna, I'm going to come."

Just do it. I took as much of him into my mouth as I could and braced as his cock jerked and hot liquid hit the back of my throat.

Hmm, it wasn't as bad as I'd anticipated.

"Fuuuuck." Ryder's hands tangled in my hair, and I swallowed every drop, feeling oddly proud of myself. I'd won three VMAs, but this went down in my personal history as one of my greatest achievements.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I need…I need…"

"What do you need?"

"You. I need?—"

"Fingers or tongue?"

"Tongue," I gasped.

I expected him to flip me onto my back the way he usually did, but he cupped my ass and pulled me forward instead. Forward, forward, until I was sitting on his freaking face. I gripped the top of the headboard for support as he went to town, his skilful tongue flicking and circling and hitting precisely the right spot. My hips moved in time with his strokes, and I came with a wild cry. And tears. Why were there tears? I wasn't sad. No, I felt such overwhelming pleasure that my leg muscles gave out.

"I've got you," Ryder whispered as he lifted me clear and tucked me against his side. "I'll always have you."

"And I'll always love you." I ran a hand over his stubble. The scratch of a beard still brought back bad memories, but he was gradually overwriting them with good ones. "Especially your tongue."

"I'm a big fan of your mouth. It's wasted on singing."

A giggle escaped. "Did you know that my mouth is insured for ten million dollars?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Nope."

He caressed my jaw. "Tell me I didn't damage anything?"

"It's all good. So freaking good."

Ryder made us breakfast, coffee and chocolate croissants, and we settled on the living room couch with Rocky. I flipped through the channels as we ate, looking for something to watch. Ryder might have been a rough, tough Navy SEAL, but he seemed just as happy chilling out with a movie as he did shooting at things.

When I saw a picture of myself, I stopped. I'd made the news again, and for once, it was for a good reason.

"Aw, there's a piece on the shelter. They took the picture of Rocky from my Insta, but I can't even be mad."

This was the first in a series of weekly features, the reporter said, each highlighting a different dog from Helping Paws. Star of the show today was Turbo, a pit bull cross who constantly looked as if he were smiling.

"Didn't you suggest the folks at the shelter pitch that idea?" Ryder asked.

"There are two things people love—stories that make them feel good and stories that make other people feel bad."

True to form, after ending on a high note with Turbo rolling over and waggling his legs, the programme cut back to the studio to depress everyone.

"In other news, there's still no sign of missing woman Michelle Johnson, who vanished on her way home from a night out at the Peppermill. Police appear to have no clues in the disappearance of the outgoing twenty-five-year-old, who was reported to be in good spirits at the time of her disappearance."

I shuddered. "Glad I have a bodyguard."

"I'm not sure what's more depressing—that another woman has gone missing in Vegas, or that they did the dog piece before reporting on it."

"Don't knock dogs. Most of the time, they're nicer than people." Rocky must have known I was talking about him because he inched his way closer and rested his chin on my thigh. "See?"

When Ryder wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed my hair, it struck me that this felt a lot like a family. Him, me, and a cute fur kid.

And I liked it.

I really liked it.