Page 246 of Rush

I answer, “Hey?”

Broderick sighs, picking up his book.

“Elena, it’s happening. One of the headliners for the New Year’s Eve Ball Drop pulled out. Laryngitis. But they’re reworking the setlist, and they want you.”

My heart stutters. “Me? What—where?”

“Times Square. Midnight slot. The main stage. You’ll be the final performance of the year.”

I sit up straighter, eyes wide. “You’re serious?”

“They need confirmation now. You in?”

“Of course I’m in,” I say without hesitation.

Mark laughs. “I’ll send everything through in the next hour. This is big, Elena! Bigger, better things for you next year.”

When I hang up, I stare at the screen in disbelief.

Broderick slides his bookmark into place and looks over. “Everything alright?”

I turn to him, lips parting. “I’m headlining the New Year’s Eve Ball Drop.”

His jaw drops. “Wait, like?—”

“Main stage. Times Square. Midnight.”

He stares for a beat, then breaks into a slow, wide grin.

“You’re kidding.”

I shake my head, still grinning. “I’m not.”

He leans over and kisses me—slow, deep, reverent.

“Baby, I’m so proud of you.” He breaks the kiss, his thumb caressing my bottom lip.

My chest feels too full. The kind of full that spills over.

I kiss him back again—this time climbing into his lap, straddling him. “I want to celebrate.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, grinding against him. I lean in to kiss him, soft, letting my hair fall around us like a curtain. Then I reach over to my bedside table and pull out two red silk ties.

“I want to try something.”

“And what’s that, baby?” His brow arches, amusement flickering behind heat.

I bite my lip—he’s so fucking hot.

I hold up the ties.

Broderick’s eyes widen and his dick pulses beneath me.

“You or me?” he asks, breath already uneven.

“You.”