Page 88 of Every Now and Then
“Thank you,” Hayes whispers, so only I can hear him.
I smile. If he only knew how jealous I’d been watching him with Sloane, he wouldn’t be thanking me. He’d know he was doing me a favor by allowing me to replace her for this part of the video.
After learning about Kyle’s affair, I worried I might never trust a man to be faithful again. But then Hayes bulldozed his way into my life—supporting me, bonding with my daughters, loving all three of us—and somehow, without even realizing it, I trusted him and his fidelity. And tonight, watching how visibly uncomfortable he was around Sloane, only reinforced what I already knew: Hayes loves me. And I believe in our love.
The stylist comes up to us on the bed. She hands me a robe, which I take, but I shoot her a questioning glance when she doesn’t leave. Finally, she urges, “I need your bra now, Annabelle.”
“Oh! Oh.” I feel like an idiot. Now I understand why they had me apply the pasties over my nipples before putting on the bra. I thought it was just to ensure there weren’t any accidental nip slips while filming.
“Don’t worry, Yankee. The camera will only get you from the back.” Hayes tips up my chin, reassuring me, “If anything happens that you aren’t comfortable with, we’ll stop. Okay?”
“Okay.” Truth be told, I almost forget about the cameras because Hayes commands my attention. The molten smolder in his eyes. The heat of his touch on my skin. The muscles that ripple as he manhandles me.
I don’t even mind the extra eyes on us.
Hell, I think I might even like it a little. It adds to the excitement and the heady feelings building within me.
The lights go down, amping up the sexy vibe, as the few people left on set scamper off to the outer edges of the room, ready for filming to begin again. The wardrobe stylist is back. This time, it’s to take the robe from me. With an extra breath for bravery, I slide it from my shoulders and hand it to her.
Colt claps and issues his directions for the next scenes.
We start with me on top, the camera filming from behind me, like Hayes said they would. This entire episode seems like it’s been a long game of foreplay. By the time we’re allowed to kiss and touch each other in earnest, I am so wound up that I forget that what we’re doing is supposed to be fake, scripted and choreographed.
But it doesn’t feel fake between us. It never has.
Especially when Hayes flips us over and I feel his length hardening against the cradle of my thighs.
I smirk, grateful I’m not the only one affected by this.
We kiss, and I lose myself in him. His hand grips my hair tightly, pulling my head back as Hayes kisses me. My fingers tremble as I glide my hands up his chest, helped by the slick oil. My back arches when Hayes squeezes my ass before guiding my legs to wrap around his waist. He grinds against me. I bite my lip to keep from moaning as he rubs his steel dick back and forth over my clit. From the devilish gleam in his eyes, Hayes knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
He’s unraveling me, thread by thread, until I’m desperate. His mouth and hands are everywhere… everywhere but where I want them most.
We run through it several more times, and then just before dawn, Colt yells, “Cut!” for a final time.
The wardrobe and makeup personnel disperse, eager to slide into their own beds after working through the night. I stand alone in the motel room that was used as a dressing room. Dropping the robe, I stand in front of the full-length mirror in the pasties and panties and chuckle darkly.
While I look like I spent all night moaning in bed with a man, I’ve been left unsatisfied.
Tonight felt like one long edging session. As exhausted as I feel, I also feel needy. My blood runs hot, and the incessant throbbing between my legs is impossible to ignore.
I slip my fingers into my panties, head falling back. I rub my clit in tight circles. With each swipe, I come closer to relief, imagining the dirty things I wanted Hayes to do to me while we were in that bed together. I wanted him to spread my legs and kiss my pussy like he was kissing my mouth. I wanted him to feast on me, licking me straight to a screaming orgasm.
My movements grow faster, harder, as I pretend it’s his hand bringing me pleasure.
Lost in the rhythm and the heat building inside me, I don’t hear the door open.
Not until it shuts—and the lock clicks.
My eyes fly open. I gasp, lifting my flushed face to meet Hayes’ heated gaze in the mirror. He strides up behind me, palming my breast before sliding his strong arm around my waist as he pulls me back against him.
He lowers his face to the curve of my neck, nuzzling as his hand glides down my abdomen. Against my skin, he murmurs, “I was going to ask if you were ready to leave… but I think you’d rather come. That right, baby?”
My breath hitches as I nod. “Please.”
“Look how beautiful you are, Annabelle,” he orders, bringing my attention back to the mirror in front of us. “Look at the flush that spreads across your tits when you’re turned on.” With a sudden motion, giving me no warning, he pulls off one pasty, freeing my nipple. I gasp again at the shot of pain as it turns to pleasure when Hayes scrapeshis thumb across my pebbled nipple before pinching it. “Hell, my cock has never been so fucking hard as it has been for the last few hours.”
Then he slides his hand over mine, interlocking our fingers as we play with my clit. “Show me how you like it when I’m not around, baby.”
