“Fuck,” I cursed as my cock shot off wrapped in her tight warmth.
Needing to take her over the edge with me, I dropped my thumb to her clit and rubbed a tight circle as I continued to pump inside her. My orgasm was already shredding me, but the moment her muscles began to clench around me, a whole new wave of ecstasy tightened my balls, leaving me utterly empty in its wake.
But, as my eyes opened and I watched Levee’s lithe body trembling beneath me, I’d never felt more full in my life.
Yes, I was coming down from an unbelievable orgasm with an even-more-so unbelievable woman, but I had no doubt whatsoever that the feeling currently expanding in my chest was the great I’d always been searching for. It was by far the highest high of my life, and even as her body continued to milk me and I softened inside her, I couldn’t even enjoy it.
In my life, after every high came the lowest of lows.
And, while looking down into her sated eyes, which were staring up at me so filled with love that it nearly ached, the fucking pendulum swung all over again.
I SPENT TWO glorious days lost in Sam before I came back up for air. I wished I could’ve stayed tucked in his bed forever, but he had work to do, and unfortunately, I did too. Really, I didn’t want to do any of it though.
Sure, I needed to return the hundreds of calls I’d ended from Stewart and let him know that I was taking an indefinite hiatus from music. I was positive it wasn’t going to go over well.
I also needed to fire Devon. My heart broke at the idea, but no more than it had the day he had taken it upon himself to come between me and Sam—that killed.
And, after all of that was done, I needed to head up to my house, change all the locks and security codes, and then relocate half of my wardrobe to Sam’s closet. There had never been a question of his place or mine when we’d gotten back. His shop was out back, and he had Sampson to take care of, so his place was the obvious choice. But, above and beyond all that, I loved Sam’s house. I’d only spent one night there before I’d left, but somehow, it felt like home. I wasn’t necessarily moving in for good, but I wasn’t planning to go back home any time soon, either.
Sam had been up for hours when I finally dragged myself out of bed long enough to do my hair and makeup. I took my sweet time, hoping another day would slip to night so I could avoid my to-do list, but an hour later, when I slid my heels on, the clock only read eleven in the morning.
Grabbing my new phone, I decided to procrastinate on Twitter for a while before starting my day.
It was the wrong decision.
So. So. So wrong.
The very first message to pop up on my feed was a video of a bald little boy no older than three, connected to more wires than I could count. He looked so weak, but as someone offscreen turned my song “Discovery” on, he started shimmying and shaking in his hospital bed. The song only lasted for a few seconds before it cut off, and the boy immediately broke into tears when it ended. It was turned back on and he started dancing all over again. My stomach wrenched as I pressed play repeatedly, only pausing long enough to read the tweet.
@LeveeWilliams You should come to Indiana and meet your biggest fan.
It was a harmless message that had been retweeted over three thousand times, but it was like a knife to my gut. I really should do that.
It would have cost me nothing to be on a plane that same night, but I knew the real price would be paid when I started the vicious cycle all over again.
I’m on a break.
Yet my fingers still typed out in response:
@SandyJoe176 Absolutely! I’d love to meet that handsome little guy. My manager will be in touch.