Page 23 of Mad for Madison

“You don’t need to ask,” I replied.

Madison nodded, then leaned in. His lips were soft and impossibly gentle when they pressed against mine. He kissed me not in the way people kissed when they were horny and impatient. He kissed me like he wanted to remember what it tasted like.

The morning minutes ticked away as he indulged in the pleasures we offered one another. Melting into each other and drinking up one another, we explored our bodies, our shapes, our sensitive places, and our reactions until I felt like I knew him better than I knew myself. Madison was ticklish, but he didn’t pull away or laugh. He tensed when my fingers passed someplace that tickled him. He tensed and took it bravely, almost like he was fascinated by the sensation, by the risk of it, by the chance that I would do something to him. He also liked when I bit the soft part of his ear. It made him coil under my weight, his fingers running through my hair or clutching my back. And when my lips were around his cock, Madison wore such a blessedly peaceful expression that it was impossible to look away from him. He wore it until the very last moment before his climax, when his chest would heave and body shuddered, and all his fingers and toes curled in a spasm of thundering pleasure.

I knew these things and more. I knew the flavor of him when he lost all control and let himself finish in my mouth,the sweetness with a hidden note of tartness that I would never forget.

Madison Masters gave me all I wanted. And it was in moments like these that I dared believe it was real.

After we finished, we lay together and basked in the afterglow of unexpected pleasure. Then, Madison got up, content and calm, and took my hand. He led me to the bathroom without speaking a word, and we showered together, exchanging a few last kisses before this dream was over.

Once we dressed, Madison offered to have breakfast together. “Unless you have to go.”

“I have time,” I said. Gran liked Sunday mornings with Lily. They did arts and crafts in the apartment before I picked Lily up for an excursion in the city, giving Gran a respite from raising my child.

“Good,” Madison said.

We left the room behind and went down to the ballroom that was converted back into the restaurant. The richly decorated interior made me long for Mama Viv’s Neon Nights, where there were few rules and no expectations. I sat with my back straight and my best smile on, but I was out of place.

I didn’t belong in a hotel full of popular, good-looking stars and forward-thinking investors. I didn’t belong on Madison’s arm. Who would believe us if they saw us in the light of day? The differences were so incredible that I half-suspected everyone had seen through us last night.

Madison waved at someone after we had ordered a table full of breakfast treats.

“Good morning,” the deep voice said from behind me. I turned and saw Ricardo, Madison’s scene partner. He was a big guy in his early thirties, but he still had that frat bro look that sold well. “How are you two lovebirds feeling?”

“I’m in Heaven,” Madison said, his voice sweet and tender. “Did we miss anything last night?”

Ricardo glanced at me briefly, then lifted his eyebrows and made an apologetic face. “Your friend drank a few too many and fell into the fish pool.”

Madison laughed so loudly and abruptly that I almost jumped. “That’s so fucking typical,” he said once he calmed down. “Was he nasty?”

“He was too wet to be nasty, Nico,” Ricardo said. “Well, I’ll leave you two to eat. Just wanted to say hello.” He looked at me again and smiled. “It was nice meeting you.”

As he left, I leaned toward Madison. “He really thinks we’re together.”

Madison winked at me, beaming with pride. “Of course he does. We make a gorgeous couple.”

I snort-chuckled.

He cocked his head at that. “You don’t believe me.”

I met Madison’s gaze. It searched me for a few moments, and then I shrugged. “I just thought it would be hard to believe. You’re like a supermodel, and I…well, I’m me.”

Madison took a sip of hot coffee from his mug. “Yes, you’re you. That’s why I askedyou. You’re beautiful, Bradley.”

I blinked. I didn’t know what to say to polite compliments. “I’m just…normal. I’m not that special.”

Madison scoffed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to stay normal in this crazy world? I like that you’re normal.” He put his mug down. “And you’re wrong. You’ve no idea how special you are.”

“You know what I mean,” I said, divided between appreciating his effort to make me feel good and the awkwardness of having to argue against it.

“I really don’t,” Madison said.

A waiter pushed a large cart to our table and began placing all kinds of dishes for breakfast. Eggs Benedict and good old American pancakes, and slices of cake, and fried bacon, and hash browns, none in any particular order.

Madison looked at all of it once the waiter moved on. He took a single egg and piled up some salad on the side. He didn’t touch anything that was tasty on our table.

“You insist on having a low opinion of yourself,” Madison said softly. It wasn’t an accusation, but it sounded almost like it.

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