Page 39 of Bewitched By the Siren
“Again,” I gasp, and he complies, this time pulling the pebbled nub between his lips and sucking it, hard.
My muscles tense as pressure builds in my core, and sensing it, Brendan increase his pace, slamming into me again and again until my orgasm explodes inside me. I shout his name with the release, and he moves even faster, chasing his own until he drives into me and freezes with a long, deep grunt.
He collapses atop me, breathing hard as we both float back down to earth. After a moment, he rolls off me to land on his back beside me. We tilt our heads toward each other, and as soon as our gazes meet, we both start to laugh.
“Your bed is soaked,” I say.
“We should probably dry off and change the sheets,” he replies, chuckling.
I nod, then roll off the bed while he copies my movements in the opposite direction. I start to strip the bed while he ducks into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and grabs some fresh bedding from the linen closet. Tossing the wet sheets into a pile on the floor, we remake the bed together, then Brendan fetches towels for us to dry off with an extra one for my hair.
Once we’re reasonably dry, we climb back into bed together, naked, and he pulls me against his chest. A week ago, I would’ve felt extremely uncomfortable, cuddling this way. But with Brendan?
With Brendan, it feels natural. Like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Brendan
Holding Hali like this,in the middle of the day and without reservations, makes me feel like everything is right in the world. Those negative thoughts about how I shouldn’t be doing this have faded into the background, and every time my mind tries to rebel, to tell me she is a potential client, Hali must feel the tension rise inside of me, because she snuggles closer, chasing the worry away.
Right here, in this moment, she isn’t Hali Weston––future superstar. She’s just Hali, a girl I like. A woman who makes me feel like this is exactly where I belong.
“What are you thinking about?” she murmurs, her voice thick with relaxation and comfort.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, then sigh. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d sing for me.”
The stiffening of her body is immediate, and I try to backpedal. I shake my head and tighten the grip of my arm around her body.
“Never mind. It was stupid. Forget it.”
Her muscles relax, and she turns her head to press a light kiss to my chest. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”
She starts to hum a tune I don’t recognize, then starts into the first verse in a quiet, gentle tone. The lyrics are gray and gloomy, telling a story of a person all alone in the world. Of a great, dark loneliness that sets the tone for everything they do and everything they say.
My chest hollows at the emotion her words and tone evoke inside me, and I try to focus on the technical aspects of her talent. Her voice is perfect and beautiful, but just like in the car yesterday, I notice I don’t feel that surge of desperation and awe I felt atMemaw’sthe first time I heard her sing. It’s weird.
My thoughts scatter when she bridges into the chorus, the rhythm picking up into something hopeful and exciting as she sings about meeting someone who steals into her world. That though uninvited, she can’t help but welcome them in after they worked so hard to crack the shell around her resolve to stay separate.
The change in her tone elicits a change in me, making my emotions soar and my heart pound. And that right there, the way her impromptu performance has affected me, is why this woman needs to be a star.
The world my not deserve her, but itneedsher.
Not because Julius wants her on his roster. Not because I need her to save my job. None of that matters.
All that matters is the way Hali is sure to change people’s lives with her music.
Her voice trails off after the chorus, and she snuggles closer with a near-silent sigh before saying, “That’s as far as I’ve gotten with that one.”
“You wrote that?” I ask, awe tingeing the words.
She nods against my chest. “I’ve been working on it for a few weeks, but all I’d written was the first verse until this week.”
I hear the words she’s not saying. That meetingmeopened her mind and allowed her to feel that hope that was laced through the words and melody of the chorus. Wonderment swells in my chest, and I tilt my head down to press a kiss to the top of her head.
“You’re the real deal, Hali Weston,” I murmur.
She mumbles a quiet thanks against my skin, then rolls atop me. Dropping her knees to the mattress so she’s straddling my hips, she braces her hands against my shoulders and stares down at me. The ends of her hair brush against my nipples, sending sparks rolling beneath my skin, and her shell pendant dangles just above my chin.
