Page 104 of The Sun and Her Star

My heartbeat races and my thoughts are too jumbled for me to string together a coherent response. I grin widely. “Apollo—”

“I promised to keep it quiet because he asked me to. I don’t want to embarrass him by being photographed kissing you when his family and friends all think we’re still together. And ever since you waltzed into that gala, he thinks I’m his ticket to landing you as a client.” She rolls her eyes and waits for my reaction.

I shake my head in mock confusion. “Sorry. You’ll have to repeat that. I didn’t hear anything past the part where you said you’re single,” I say with a jaunty smile and a wink. This is one less hurdle I’ll have to cross. And I’m not bothering to hide my glee.

“You’re being annoying,” she says and crosses her arms and then looks down at her phone. “He’s here.” She waves as a big black Chevy Tahoe pulls up.

“That’s a fancy Uber. I haven’t taken one in a minute, but they used to be Toyota Camrys.”

“I ordered an Uber X. I don’t ride in cars often, so when I do, I like to be comfortable,” she says as we walk to the curb.

“That’s how I feel about flying long distances. Not often, but when I do …”

I pull the passenger door open and then take her hand to boost her inside and get a nice look of that spectacular view before she sits down and slides over.

“Apollo?” The driver addresses the question to me.

“That’s me.” She waves and smiles pleasantly.

“Oh, sorry, I thought it was a guy.” He looks like he actually doesn’t give a fuck. “Anyway, we going to East Twelfth and Broadway?”

Apollo’s smile does slip. “Easy enough to understand. And yes, to Ribalta. Thank you.”

She puts her purse down and shrugs out of her jacket. I groan when I see that she’s wearing a body hugging black V-neck blouse that hugs every single curve of her body.

“Why are taking your jacket off? I thought you said we could walk there.”

She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “We could, but Uber means we’ll have to fight whatever traffic and so I’m getting comfortable. We’ll be here for at least twenty minutes.” She lays her jacket on the seat between us. I pick it up and scoot to sit next to her.

“Twenty minutes is plenty of time,” I say and scoot next to her.

She eyes me suspiciously but doesn’t move away.

I waggle my eyebrows.

“I said no kissing,” she chastises me.

“Why did you say that again?” I put my hand on her thigh and slide it up her skirt. “I don’t know …” I keep my eyes on her thighs and watch the outline of my hand as it slides up and disappears in between her thighs.

She inhales sharply. “What are you doing?” she asks, her thighs parting slightly.

My fingers meet the bare skin of her pussy and I look up at her. “Damn, your tights have a fuck hole.”

“It’s not a fuck hole. It’s so I don’t have to pull them down to pee,” she says indignantly and presses her thighs together slightly.

“Well, right now, it’s a fuck hole,” I murmur against her ear.

“Oh …” She breathes out and her hips tilt toward my fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d broken up with him when I came to your place the other night?” I ask while I slide my finger in between the crease at the apex of her thighs.

“It was my only line of defense.” She moans softly as I press my fingers in between the soft wet lips and slide them up in a firm, slow stroke.

“Do you think Icarewhether or not you have a boyfriend?” I whisper gently.

“You don’t?” She gasps at the swirling pressure of my thumb on her clit.

“Fuck no. There hasn’t been a day since we met that you and I didn’t belong with each other.” My tongue darts out to touch the tender center of her bottom lip. She opens for me with a whimper. I fist my hand in her hair and kiss her. Her lips are like perfectly ripe fruit—so sweet and soft.

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