Chapter 20

Bailey

It was hard to think while my body was shaking from the ferocity of my orgasm, but somewhere in the recesses of my mind, it occurred to me we’d just broken my bed. I wanted to laugh, but my body was still too blissed out for me to do anything but shudder in the aftermath.

I’d never had sex like this before.

Maybe that was something all women who were falling in love said, but I’d been in love before, and I’d never experienced anything like this.

He was big and sexy and strong but instead of intimidating me, he made me feel beautiful and confident.

I’d never had three orgasms in one day, much less in a span of an hour, but my body was completely on board with it. I felt sated and sexy and wanted, and it wasn’t until a second crash jolted me out of my lusty reverie that I snapped back to reality.

“I think we broke the bed,” I whispered.

Jensen dipped his head. “And we are continuing to break it.”

I snickered. “Oh my god. We broke the bed!”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

I burst out laughing and he did too.

“It’s okay. I’ve had this bed frame for a long time. It might be time for a new one anyway.”

“Sorry, babe.” He pressed a light kiss on my lips.

“I think it’s hilarious.” I glanced around. “Jesus, look at the angle we’re at.”

“Let me see if I can—” He started to move.

“No!” I cut him off and tightened my arms around him. “I’m not ready to lose this feeling.”

“What feeling?”

“How it felt the first time we made love.” I swallowed, a little nervous at vocalizing something so vulnerable.

“I’m glad you said that. I wasn’t ready to move either.” He brushed a few locks of hair out of my face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I know I’m big and we went pretty hard at the end.”

“You’re fucking perfect,” I whispered. “You fill me like you were made just for me. Every time you move inside of me, you hit something that makes me see stars. I didn’t think the G-spot was real because I’d never had anyone hit it before. I’ve also never been able to orgasm more than once a night and I’m already on number three.”

“Well, hang on to your hat, because number four is right around the corner,” he said gruffly, kissing me again.

The moment his tongue tangled with mine, I forgot all about the bed or how sweaty I was or anything else. All I wanted was for him to keep touching me, kissing me, doing whatever it was he did to make me feel so good. And I wasn’t just talking about orgasms.

When was the last time a man made me feel comfortable in my own skin?

Maybe never.

Even before the accident, I’d always been a little self-conscious during sex, wondering if I was good enough. Wondering if the man was only with me because I was famous. I’d found fame fairly young, so other than high school, all of my adult relationships had been after I’d reached a modicum of success. And none of my other boyfriends had been able to make me feel secure about myself as a woman. I was fine professionally, but I’d struggled with my personal life.

Now it felt like I’d found something I’d never had.

Jensen had also given me back something I thought I’d lost forever: confidence.

It would probably fade once we got out of bed, but right now, in this moment, I’d never felt stronger or sexier or more alive.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

“For…?” He looked down at me curiously.

“For reminding me that I’m still alive. That I’m still a woman. That I’m not a monster.”

“Oh, baby. You’re a thousand percent woman. And you are not a monster. Not even close.” He peppered more kisses on my face as his cock stirred inside of me.

God damn… he was hard again.

“Jensen…” My voice was a whimper.

I needed him.

More of him.

All of him.

Again.

As many times as we could manage.

“Right here, baby.” His kisses went from soft and tender to passionate and consuming.

“I need you.”

“I know.” He pinned my hands over my head just like he had before. “Your fourth orgasm is on the horizon.”

We were up early because Jensen had a morning skate before tonight’s game. I’d let him sleep while I made breakfast because we’d been up late. He’d said he would nap this afternoon, but I wanted him to get as much rest as possible because his body took a beating on game days.

“Hey, why didn’t you wake me?” He came padding into the kitchen looking deliciously tousled.

How was it possible this veritable god of a man was in my house, in my kitchen, looking like he wanted to eat me alive?

“I had to sterilize the kitchen counter before I could make breakfast,” I deadpanned.

He laughed. “Am I supposed to apologize?”

“Nope.” I grinned, handing him a cup of coffee.

“Hey, so, I was hoping you’d come to the game tonight.”

I paused, not looking at him as I poured myself a second cup of coffee. “You know I don’t want to be in the spotlight, Jensen.”

“You wouldn’t be in the spotlight,” he said. “We only allow press in the family lounge on special occasions, and tonight isn’t one of them. So no one would see you or recognize you.”

“I could get recognized just sitting in the audience,” I said.

“So, bring your crutches and keep a low profile. If they see you, they’ll see you on crutches and all they can speculate is that you’ve had another surgery or something. I’d really like you there.”

I sighed.

I couldn’t fathom going to such a public event.

Not yet.

“I…I’m not ready,” I finally said. “I’m sorry. I really want to see you play, but I’m just not ready to take a step like that.”

“All right.” He seemed disappointed, averting his gaze as he sipped his coffee.

I moved closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Give me a little more time, okay? I need to adjust to a new reality. I thought I was going to be alone, probably forever. I never dreamed I’d meet someone special, let alone a celebrity in his own right.”

“I’m not a celebrity,” he protested. “I’m just a well-paid jock.”

“You’re much more than that and you know it.” I lifted to my toes to kiss him. “Don’t be mad. Please?”

“I’m not mad. Just trying to understand. But it’s okay. I can be patient.”

“Thank you.” I hugged him tightly and he wrapped his arms around me.

“You’re welcome.” He kissed the top of my head.

“Do you want breakfast?”

“I could eat.”

“Eggs?”

“Sure. But let me help.”

“I like cooking for you,” I replied, moving toward the fridge.

“I thought you liked to bake, not cook?”

“I prefer baking, but I like cooking for you. It’s not the same thing.”

“Well, I’ll never turn down food.”

I got eggs, cheese, and bacon out of the fridge, wishing I could make him something a little more interesting than that, but there was no time today.

“Do you ever miss acting?” he asked out of nowhere.

I froze before slowly shaking my head. “No. I mean, yes, sometimes, but I stopped thinking about it specifically so I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Does it work that way? I mean, do you stop missing something just because you tell yourself to?”

I shrugged. “Some days are easier than others. It’s just not worth it to me. The press was brutal after the accident, and it doesn’t help that my ex bad-mouthed me to anyone who would listen, insisting that the accident was my fault.”

“How was it your fault? Were you driving?”

I turned, glancing over my shoulder at him. “You haven’t looked it up?”

He shook his head. “No. Why would I?”

“Curiosity? Wanting to know who I used to be?”

“I only care about who you are now. Why would I care about any of that? And your accident sounds like it was extremely traumatic, so I figured I’d wait until you wanted to tell me about it.”

“Oh.” I felt a little silly, automatically assuming he would look up the information online.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I don’t talk about it much anymore.” I turned back to the stove, adding a little milk to the egg mixture before pouring it into the pan.

“Okay.”

Silence filled the kitchen for a few awkward minutes.

And then I started talking, as if my mouth had a mind of its own.

“We were in a limo coming home from the Oscars. I’d decided to break up with Dirk, my ex-fiancé. He was a model and aspiring actor who wasn’t getting a lot of work, so I’d started to suspect he was using me for my connections. On the drive home, I told him I thought we should take a break, and he didn’t take it well. We argued. Then he grabbed me…” I focused on scrambling the eggs in the pan.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Jensen was suddenly behind me, wrapping one strong arm around my waist.

“He grabbed me by the throat,” I continued, my voice a little hoarse as memories flooded me. “He was choking me, so I took off my shoe and threw it at the privacy screen. Hans, my driver, was very astute, so he would know something was up. And he did. Everything is a blur after that. I don’t know exactly what happened, but Hans lost control of the limo when Dirk hit him in the head with a water bottle. We crashed and Hans died.”

“Oh, baby.” Jensen held me tight against him, my back to his front as I tried to see through tear-filled eyes so I wouldn’t burn the eggs.

“Afterward, Dirk tried to say I caused the accident because I threw my shoe at the driver’s head, but there was no evidence. And obviously, I had a different story. In the end, they ruled it a terrible accident and Dirk, that fucker, walked away without a scratch.”

Jensen reached over my shoulder and turned off the stove, gently moving the frying pan off the burner before turning me around so we were facing each other. He pulled me to his chest and simply held me, as if he knew instinctively there were no words to make any of this better. His presence helped, though. And having his arms around me made all the difference in the world. I hadn’t cried about the accident in a long time, but today the tears came freely.

“It’s okay. You can let it out. I’m here.” He stroked my hair, his voice soft and soothing.

After a little while, I calmed down enough to stop crying, and I pulled away so I could dab my eyes with a napkin.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I haven’t talked about it in a long time.”

“I’m glad you felt safe enough to trust me with that story.”

“Thank you for listening. Hans was my driver and my friend. I miss him. His daughters are in high school now and I always remember their birthdays and Christmas.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“The accident wasn’t my fault, but he’s dead because of me. If he hadn’t been my driver that night, he would still be alive.”

“He was doing a job,” he said gently. “If he wasn’t driving for you, he would have been driving for someone. Accidents happen every day. You know that.”

“Yes, but this one changed the course of my life, his life, and the lives of his family. It doesn’t seem fair that Dirk walked away.”

“You want me to kick his ass? Because I will.”

I managed a shaky smile. “I’d love that, but you’re no good to me if you’re in jail. I need you here, Jensen.”

He leaned over and softly kissed me. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. Except to practice.”

I quickly nodded. “Breakfast first and then get out of here.”

“I’ll be back tonight.”

“You will?”

“I will. And every other night until you get sick of me.”

Like that was ever going to happen.