Page 14 of Let it Ignite
I grab her by the waist and slam her down hard, driving deeper, grinding into her like I’m trying to brand her from the inside. “I’d do anything for you,” I growl, my voice raw. “Take you to that audition. Go to the premiere. Cheer louder than anyone else. You hear me? I’d carry you straight to the damn city if I had to. You're mine, Cassie. And I protect what's mine.”
She sobs out a moan, her rhythm stuttering as her orgasm hits, her whole body trembling on top of me, her pussy clenchingdown, dragging me over the edge with her. I crush her to my chest, groaning into her mouth as I spill inside her, filling her, holding her tight while the aftershocks roll through us both.
She slumps against me, breathless, her body still trembling.
“Really?” she whispers, her voice soft and cracking. “You’d do all that for me?”
I kiss her forehead, still buried inside her. “I'd do anything for you, baby. You’re it for me.”
Chapter 6
Cassie
The city looms ahead like a living thing. Towering buildings, glass and steel and endless motion. I used to dream of this. Of being right here. Of getting my shot.
Now that we’re actually here, I can barely breathe.
I sit in the passenger seat of Byron’s truck, my fingers clutching the printed script so tightly the pages are crumpled. My knee bounces. My lips move silently as I mouth the lines again and again. I’ve practiced these words a hundred times, but suddenly, they leak out of my head.
“You okay, baby?” Byron glances over at me, his voice soft, grounding.
I nod, but I don’t speak. My throat’s dry. My stomach’s doing somersaults.
I sneak a look at him, at the way his massive hands grip the wheel, the way the muscles in his jaw flex like he’s holding something in. He hasn’t said much since we left Silvertown Hollow, but his silence doesn’t bother me. He’s here. He’s driving me to an audition because I asked him to. Because I needed him.
That alone says everything.
“I know this city looks loud and messy,” he says, sensing the shift in my mood as we hit bumper-to-bumper traffic, “but none of that noise matters. Just focus on you. You’ve got this.”
His words are simple. But they land heavy in my chest.
“You don’t have to go in alone, baby.”
That’s the first thing Byron says as he pulls the truck into a side street just off the busy avenue. His hand hovers over mine, like he’s trying to stay cool—but I can see it. The heat under his skin. That ever-present need to protect me.
I squeeze his hand. “I got this. I need to do this alone.”
He nods. “You’re the bravest woman I know.”
God, that makes my stomach flip.
I open the door, and just stepping onto the pavement feels like a slap in the face. The city isloud. Not just noisy—chaotic. Honking horns, jackhammers, sirens wailing like the whole block is on fire. The air smells like grease and hot concrete, and people keep bumping into me without even saying sorry.
This isn’t what I imagined. I miss the quiet of our small town already.
I hug the folder with my lines to my chest, weaving through crowds, trying not to lose it. I thought this would feel electric, like I’d finallymade it. But instead, all I can think about is how sore my thighs are. How raw my nipples feel under this thin blouse from Byron’s mouth last night. My body still hums with the memory of his rough hands on my skin, his voice in my ear, his body pounding into mine over and over until I cried out for mercy.
And now I’m here, pretending like I didn’t spend the entire night getting absolutely wrecked by a man who makes me feel more real than any audition ever has.
I miss him already.
The casting office is on the eighth floor of a grimy old building. The elevator stutters as it climbs, the lights flickering above me. I check my reflection in the mirrored panel. Hairdown. Loose curls. A tight red tank tucked into a flowing skirt. I look the part. Sexy but professional. Confident. Collected.
But I feel none of those things.
The elevator dings and I step out into an empty hallway. No other actresses. No lines of girls running their scenes or fluffing their hair in compact mirrors. Just sterile silence and a locked door at the end of the corridor.
I swallow the knot in my throat.
