CHAPTER 40 (1)

Sex can’t change a person. I get that intellectually. But as I lie next to Timothy in the hotel bed, I want to argue with that statement. A smile tugs across my face, and it’s reflected in Timothy’s expression as he shifts over me. “Hi,” he murmurs. “Hi.” His body’s beautiful, strong, and muscled. As I trace the lines of his bare shoulders, his pec, his bicep, the ink has me staring again. “Your food get lost on the way?” he asks. I glance past him at the door, thinking for the first time in a long time about my meal. “Maybe they heard the noises and turned back.” Timothy presses his smiling mouth to my shoulder, and I grin too. My fingers dig into his arms, holding him still as my attention drags back to the ink on his chest. “I can’t believe you’ve had all these done since you left. Tell me about them?” “Pick one and I will.” I bite my lip. “The boat and the waves.” “I got it after I left Dallas and spent the week at my dad’s bedside. I remember feeling as if I was being tossed about in the storm. One night, all I could think was, ‘I can’t control the storm. I need a bigger boat’.” I trace the lines of the ship. “So, you got one.” “I can’t control the world, but I can control myself. That there are things life can never take from me.” “Maybe you should write the songs,” I murmur. “That’s kind of beautiful. How do you come out with that?” He leans down on both elbows, caging me in. “How do you write the lyrics you write?” I wet my lips under his heavy stare. “Easy. When the boy you love leaves, there’s an infinite supply of heartache to go around.” Pain flashes in his eyes. “Never again.” He lowers his lips to my jaw, and I thread my fingers into his hair. “But don’t diminish yourself. You might’ve written when I left, but I’m not the reason. You have a talent that goes beyond the words. It’s how you see the world.” I smile. “I love writing. Maybe even more than being on stage.” It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. Timothy doesn’t look at me as if I’m nuts. In fact, he doesn’t look surprised. “If that’s what you want, I’m all in.” Warmth washes over me. “Can we stay here forever?” I take in the mountain of plush hotel blankets. “We could build a fort.” He skims lower, to my breast, and my laugh is cut off. “Go nuts, baby. I’ll be right there.” God, he’s good at touching me. Was he always this good, even without the practice? Or is it me—that I’ve wanted him so bad for so long that even the slightest reward has me going off? My body is a shimmer of sensation, the pleasure from his hands tracing a leisurely path down my sides to my hips blending with the lingering high from the orgasms. When his hot mouth closes over my nipple, the sharp tug of need makes me moan. Judging from the way his hands get impatient and one slips between my thighs again, teasing me where I’m still wet from him, he likes that too. There’s a knock on the door. Timothy ignores it, until it comes again. “My food,” I mumble. With a groan and a blanket around his waist, Timothy goes to answer it. A moment later he comes inside, setting a paper bag on the desk. He peers inside before cutting me a look, one brow lifted. “You ordered cheese fries without me.” I laugh. “Clearly, I knew you’d be coming.” Before I can tell him to forget the food, that I need him back here with me, Timothy’s phone rings. He rubs a hand over his face before hitting a button. “Hey, man.” “Did she leave?” Jacob demands over the speaker. I’m already missing Timothy’s body heat, but when he cocks his head, grinning at me, I can forgive him. “She didn’t leave. She’s here.” “Hi, Jacob,” I call, shifting off the bed naked and crossing to grab one of the cheese fries off the desk before it gets cold. Fucking yum. “Hey, Manatee. Listen, Ty, your studio boys want an answer. They’ve been buzzing at the door all day.” “They’ve been blowing up my phone, too.” Timothy paces the length of the room, phone in one hand, rubbing the other through his hair until it sticks straight up. God, he’s beautiful. I still can’t believe he didn’t want to sign before talking to me. I cross to him. My hand slides around his neck, feathering the hair at his nape, and he stops. He doesn’t move, just lets me touch him as he watches me with pure and simple love. “They sent one of those edible arrangements with fruit and chocolate and shit to the apartment,” comes Jacob’s disembodied voice through the phone, reminding me he’s still with us. “Not just the crappy cantaloupe, but strawberries and pineapple—” “Thanks, Jacob,” Timothy says, his gaze locked on mine. “We’ll catch a flight back tonight, so we’ll be back in the morning.” “You guys really need to—” Timothy clicks off and tosses the phone past me without looking. I ask, “Are you going to take that offer?” “What do you think I should do?” His hands find my sides, skimming slowly down my hips in a way that makes me suck in a breath. “I think you should read it. With a lawyer—” “You’re cold.” I frown. “Timothy, that’s what they do for a living. I’m surprised you haven’t—oh.” I follow his gaze down to my pebbled nipples. “Keep talking.” He pulls my hips against his, where he’s already getting hard again. His length is pinned between us, but the glimpses of his cock have me swallowing. “Um… do you have a copy of the contract with you?” Ti6thy backs me against the wall, grinding himself between my thighs as his mouth finds mine. “Uh-huh,” he mutters between kisses. His fingers stroke down my stomach, up the inside of my thighs. I suck in a breath and try to concentrate. “There are probably some clauses to look out for.” I remember overhearing Haley and my dad talk about one of his contracts, but the moment Timothy’s fingers slick across my skin and dip inside me, I can’t for the life of me remember the details. “Good.” He sinks to his knees, nudging my legs wider while he lifts his gorgeous face to meet my gaze. Holy hell. “What are you doing?” I pant. “While you’re making sure they don’t fuck me, I’m gonna fuck you.” Timothy and I catch a red-eye back to New York. We spring for in-flight internet and look up lawyers on the way, and by the time we land, he has a meeting with a Midtown entertainment attorney to review Zeke’s deal. Timothy insists our car drop me off first and walks me to the doors at Vanier. “Have fun today.” “Thanks.” With the flight and transport from the airport, I missed Entertainment Management and Tamayo’s class. The first isn’t a big deal, but I’m going to apologize in person for the latter. “Good luck meeting Zeke.” Timothy kisses me long and hard before pulling back, brushing his thumb across my jaw. I watch him go, biting my lip as he slides into the car. Is it ever going to sink in that he’s mine? I hope not. I take my bags upstairs, but no one’s there—probably because it’s still the middle of the day. Sure enough, the dining hall’s half-full with the pre-lunch coffee crowd when I pass on my way to the classrooms.