Page 40 of Dirty Lyrics
“Come on,” I say, nudging him gently until he rolls to the side. “You’re going to show me what you’ve been writing, and I’m going to show you what I’ve been writing, and then we’re gonna see what we can do to get you that clout you need so you can tell Matheson to fuck off for good.”
His head jerks up, eyes wide, dark, shining.
“Yeah? You mean it, Mami?”
I grin, my heart thumping.
“Oh, I mean it. And by the way, I know you haven’t asked, but my real name is Gold. Maya Gold. And my father,” I pause, bracing for the hit. “My father owns and operates Gold Records.”
His eyes narrow, his jaw going hard. “Really? I met with him a few times.”
I grimace.
I can only imagine.
“That prick is really your dad?”
“He is,” I sigh. “And yes, he’s a prick. But my point is—I know this business. I would have understood what you were going through if you’d trusted me.” He looks like he’s going to say something, but I press my fingertips to his warm lips.
“It’s okay, I get it,” I tell him softly. My chest feels heavy, but lighter too, now that the words are out. “I know why you didn’t tell me. And maybe if I’d been honest about who I was from the beginning, then you would’ve felt comfortable enough to tell me about the problems you were facing with the label and your agent.”
He shakes his head hard, eyes fierce, voice rough. “No, Maya. You did nothing wrong.”
I don’t let him look away. I reach for his face, cupping his firm jaw, forcing those stormy black eyes to meet mine.
“No, Rico. We did. By not trusting us. So, from now on? No more secrets. No more lies. Upfront honesty. Okay? If we’re going to try—for our sake, and his.”
I press his hand to my belly, and my throat tightens when his palm spreads across the gentle curve there, protective and reverent.
His face crumples, all the fire softening into something that nearly breaks me. His gaze burns, but this time with devotion instead of rage.
“I really don’t want to dwell on the secrets we both kept. Open book from now on, yeah? And yes, to all the rest of it. I want nothing more than to build this dream with you and our son, Songbird. I want you both so damn bad, Maya.”
A lump swells in my throat, my eyes stinging, but I smile anyway, brushing my lips over his.
“Good. Now let’s work.” I shove him lightly, playfully, trying to cut the intensity before I fall apart again. “And for God’s sake, put on some pants or we’ll never get anything done.”
He chuckles, low and wicked, leaning in so close his breath warms my lips. The sound curls deep in my belly, making me ache.
“We can always work later,” he whispers, suggestive as hell, and his big hands find my hips, dragging me flush against him.
And oh my God—he’s hard again.
My pussy clenches, slick and eager, answering before my brain can even catch up.
“You’re insatiable,” I tease breathlessly, though my body is already betraying me, already begging for him.
His lips curve in that cocky, sinful grin that makes me melt.
“For you, my gorgeous-as-fuck wife? I’m fucking ravenous. But you want it too, don’t you, Songbird?”
Then his fingers slide between my folds, slick and shameless, and my gasp gives me away. He groans, eyes dark and triumphant.
“That’s my girl. So wet for me already. Now open those legs nice and wide and show me how much you love me.”
Heat floods me, lust and love tangled so tightly I can’t tell them apart. And God, he’s so hot. And he’s not wrong.
I do love him. I love him more than I can say, and my body proves it every time he touches me.
