Page 73 of Embracing the Beat
“Probably not.” I smile sleepily.
“See you after work?”
“’Kay. Wait—” I sit up, the sheet pooling at my waist, and his eyes darken as he takes in my nakedness. “Kiss.”
He smiles and leans down, grazing his lips with mine. I lock my arms around his neck, keeping him where he is, and I delve my tongue into his mouth, moaning when he leans closer, pressing me back against the mattress.
“I’ve got to go,” he whispers against my lips. “Save this thought for later?”
“Later,” I promise.
His bedroom door opens and closes, and a thud sounds from the front door. Closing my eyes, I inhale his scent from the pillow and drift.
When I open my eyes again, the clock reads 9:43. I stretch and groan, moving slowly and re-dressing in the pajamas I’d shed as soon as I got to his room last night. A pleasant ache throbs between my thighs, and my nipples are sensitive where they rub against the soft cotton of my shirt.
When I open the door, I nearly run into my mom.
“Good thing it was me and not your dad,” she warns with an eye roll.
He definitely would say something if he caught me slipping from West’s room to mine.
“I’m running to the store in a little while. Let me know if you need anything.” She heads down the stairs, and I open the door to my room and collapse on my bed with a huff.
That was close.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand, distracting me from my wandering thoughts.
UNKNOWN: Enjoying your vacation?
MICHAELA: Who is this?
UNKNOWN: You would know if you hadn’t blocked my other number.
Brad.
The flash of recognition transports me back to that night, and a shudder racks my body.
MICHAELA: I’m not on vacation.
BRAD: Call it whatever you want, but it’s time to put your ass back to work.
MICHAELA: I’m not going anywhere near you. Or Reverb.
BRAD: It’s cute you think you have any control over that, sweetheart.
BRAD: Reverb still owns you for two more records. Even those fancy east coast attorneys can’t get you out of it.
No, no, no, no, no. Bile rises in my throat and I take a deep breath. How does he know that I met with an attorney?
BRAD: Either you get your ass back to California or you’re in breach. Our lawyers would love to hear that. They’ve been bored lately.
With shaky fingers, I try to type a response several times before giving up.
What can I say?
BRAD: And you better have learned some manners in the last few weeks.
BRAD: Either you do as I say or I’m going to make your life a living hell.
