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  Click.

  I didn’t feel an ounce of shame or embarrassment over the camera capturing our intimacy. I felt only pleasure, only trust.

  With my breasts bared, Adam nuzzled his face between them, kissing at first, then nibbling. Next came a nip on the sensitive flesh.

  I yelped, but it was chased by an oh as he soothed the bite with a lick.

  Then he raised his face, met my gaze, and stared hotly at my lips. “Bet you’d like me to come on these beauties, dirty girl.”

  “Oh God, yes.”

  He rose, kneeling, cupping both my breasts, squeezing them together. “Bet you’d love it if I fucked these perfect tits and came all over your throat.”

  I moaned my yes, at his words and at his rough touch that I loved.

  “Put that on your list. Number twelve. You’re making a new list, dirty girl, and we’re going to work our way through all of it, over and over.”

  Tingles spread down my body, settling between my legs, where I ached for him. “I want that with you. I want to do it all with you. I want you to have me in every way, Adam.”

  Click.

  Brandon was only taking pictures. There would be no video with this. No words to return to and play again and again. No soundtrack to listen to. But when I looked at this image later, I was sure I’d remember the words perfectly. Have me in every way.

  I wanted that with this man, my after-dark Adam.

  His hands traveled along my sides, down to the waistband of my panties. “I’ll give you everything, my sweet, dirty girl.”

  “Yes. God, yes. Have me.” I arched my hips, asking.

  “That’s it. Beg me with your body,” he said roughly, moving his thumbs under the band.

  I rocked my hips higher, harder, thrusting at him. “Please give me your mouth. I love your tongue, love your lips.”

  His groan echoed across the room as he pulled down my panties, exposing me.

  There was no click.

  Not until Adam moved between my legs, burying his face in my wetness. Then I heard it. Another click, mingled with the sound of my first feral moan.

  It wouldn’t be my last.

  As I moved against his mouth.

  As I arched against his lips.

  As I parted my legs wider.

  He wrapped his hands around my ass, scooping me up, lifting me impossibly closer to his wicked, wonderful tongue.

  Pleasure charged through me, surging across my body, taking me in a storm of bliss.

  Yes, bliss.

  I was in it. I was having it. And later, I’d see it.

  But right now, I was living all my fantasies, and reality was so much better as I lost control with the man I loved.

  I let go of the headboard, writhing, my hands in my hair, on my breasts, on my face.

  I was caught in the throes of the most intense climax of my life, as Adam devoured me till the waves subsided.

  But then, the moment grew more intense. Adam rose, shed his briefs, and kneeled next to me, stroking himself near my face, before he let go to bend close and whisper in my ear, “I love you so much, Nina.”

  A second wave of pleasure crashed over me at those words. “I love you too,” I whispered.

  “Now let’s show the camera how much.” He adjusted me, pulling me up and shifting me so I faced the camera on all fours. He moved behind me, spread my cheeks, angling me higher, then he pushed inside my wetness.

  I cried out, my neck stretching, my hair spilling down my back.

  Click.

  Yes, this was what I wanted. Everything exposed. Everything seen, as the man I’d fallen in love with me took me in a whole new way.

  Without reservation.

  He’d never held back with the physical. But now he was fully free too—to speak uninhibitedly as he fucked me rough and with passion. Whispering filthy things to me. “Grind against my shaft, my dirty girl. Show me how much you love it when your man fucks you hard.”

  My body pulsed for him. I ached for another climax.

  “I love it when you fuck me,” I cried out, rocking with him as he thrust harder, deeper. “Because I love you.”

  He grabbed my hair, yanked hard, and covered my back with his chest as we moved together, him now doing most of the work. He brought his lips to my ear, his words low and just for me. “I know you do, baby. I feel it all with you. I have every single time.”

  And I lost it again.

  I lost myself in him, peaking and soaring into another climax, one that stole through my body at record speed.

  But as he followed me there, groaning, cursing, and chanting my name, I knew neither one of us were lost.

  We were both found.

  And we’d been seen.

  26

  Brandon

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t aroused.

  I’m only human.

  And I’m a red-blooded man who likes sex.

  No, who loves it.

  Plus, there was that nagging issue of my dry spell.

  Three years long.

  So yeah, I was turned on AF behind the camera.

  Which was admittedly a little weird.

  My best friend was starring in a homemade porn.

  But I knew better. This wasn’t porn. It wasn’t for someone else’s titillation. And it wasn’t staged.

  Nina didn’t moan like an actress begging to be banged by the biggest dick in the room.

  She clearly only wanted Adam. She never cheated to the camera, never tried to show a better side, or a dirtier side.

  He was the same, his focus only ever on her.

  And I’d seen my fair share of porn. Online videos had nothing on these two. The camera revealed the depth of their feelings for each other as I caught shot after shot of their passion. The look on her face, the intensity in his.

  That said everything. And it said all the things porn never did.

  It was the truth.

  They came together like it was their only truth—the way they felt for each other.

  And when they finished, and they curled up, softer, gentler, tangled in each other, I snapped that too. They’d want that—the before, the during, and the after.

  Because it was the after that spoke the loudest. That said who they were to each other.

  They were so madly in love that something else in me cracked.

  Maybe it was the last layer of pain. The last layer of self-protection.

  I hadn’t come to Vegas looking for absolution from grief.

  But somehow, absolutely unexpectedly, I’d found it on a plane, and it had been finished in a bedroom as I witnessed someone else’s love. As I saw everything I’d denied myself since Jenna died.

  And as I learned something new about myself.

  I didn’t want to be lost after her.

  I wanted to move on. I wanted to live again. Someday soon.

  27

  Adam

  A week later

  That was a helluva day.

  One of my new shows had started production, and I’d had a fantastic meeting with a pair of business partners.

  I was giving today an A-plus already. I didn’t even need to wait for the night to update my grade book. Nights with Nina were always an A-plus.

  Even though I wouldn’t be able to get my woman alone till much later.

  My parents were arriving at the airport any minute, flying in from North Carolina where they’d been enjoying their retirement.

  I met them at baggage claim, smiling broadly when I spotted the two of them on the escalator, hand in hand.

  My mom laughed at something my dad said, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. Seeing them like that, more than thirty years after they’d said I do, warmed my heart.

  I was a lucky guy. I loved my family, enjoyed the company of my parents, and had great friends.

  And I wanted that too—right in front of me.

  Someday soon, I wanted that with Nina.

  For now, I walked
over to the escalator and brought them both in for hugs once they stepped off.

  “Good to see you, Mom, Dad.”

  “Good to see you too, son,” my dad said.

  “And you look quite happy,” my mother added, scanning my face. The woman missed nothing. “Any particular reason for that?”

  “There’s a very particular reason for that,” I said as I walked to the carousel. “And you’re going to meet that reason tonight.”

  My parents loved Nina. No surprise there. She was engaging, smart, and loved to ask questions.

  So did my mother, and the two of them gabbed all night long over our sushi dinner, talking about modern art, new shows to see in Vegas, and quirky scientific discoveries. That was my Nina.

  As the brunette beauty reached for a piece of rainbow roll, she said to my mom, “You should definitely check out this new podcast I’ve been listening to.”

  I froze.

  She wasn’t going to mention Ask Aphrodite to my mom, was she? Nina had told me about it, but even though Mom was cool, she didn’t need to tune into something that had helped my girlfriend ask me to push her face into the pillows and screw her hard.

  Something I did nightly, thank you very much.

  “It’s all about modern art, and the hostess dives into whether any of it has meaning at all,” Nina said.

  I relaxed, laughing quietly to myself.

  Of course she wasn’t going to say anything.

  Some things were private.

  What we did after dark and why would always be one of them.

  Later that night, with my parents sleeping soundly in my newly painted condo, I joined Nina in her bed.

  That was where I’d spent every night for the last week.

  And tonight we had a new item to tackle on our list.

  Number twelve.

  Seemed fitting to add it officially, since we’d talked about it in the heat of the moment.

  Tonight I gave her that, something she wanted, and something I wanted too.

  After, when we cuddled, I found myself counting the days till I could ask this wonderful woman to be my wife.

  Was tomorrow too soon?

  The answer was yes. It was definitely too soon.

  But a month later, I’d arrived at a different answer.

  Nina had asked me to join her on a passion project, as she called it. When she wasn’t shooting empowering images of women feeling beautiful, she was drawn to the natural world. To landscapes, deserts, and forests. We didn’t have forests in Vegas, but outside the city, we had a beautiful desertscape in Red Rock, with its canyons and rock formations.

  Today, we hiked through it as Nina took photos. “Some new ones for our wall,” she said, because I’d moved in with her and put my newly painted place up for sale.

  “You don’t want to hang those photos of you in your white panties on the wall?” I teased as I followed behind her on the path.

  She lowered her camera and swiveled around. “Those are only for us.”

  “I know, baby. And I love looking at them with you.”

  That was an item on our list we checked off over and over, because we both loved those pictures. They were so goddamn arousing, the visual record of our love, our intimacy.

  They were decadent, dirty, and endlessly erotic.

  And I was so damn glad she’d asked for number eleven, because her boldness in asking for what she wanted bolstered me today.

  I planned to ask for what I wanted most.

  After we hiked to a picnic spot, she set down her camera and I spread out a blanket. “Sandwiches for my sandwich monster,” I said, and her eyes lit up. Nina loved to be fed.

  “Are they going to make me sing a rock anthem?”

  “I do believe they will make you croon. But first I need to ask you something.”

  “Ask me anything, Adam,” she said, so open, so trusting.

  God, I loved this woman.

  She made it so easy to get down on one knee, meet her gaze, and give her all my truth. “Nina Bellamy, you are the most wonderful, giving person I’ve ever met. You’ve been my friend and my lover, and you’ve shown me so much about trust and faith and love,” I said, my heart expanding to fill my whole damn chest.

  Her eyes shone, tears glimmering in them.

  “And the only other thing I want is for you to be mine always. Will you be my wife?”

  She nodded as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Yes, Adam. Yes, I’ll be your wife. I’ve only ever been yours, and I’ll only ever be yours.”

  And that was the most wonderful gift.

  I slid a gorgeous solitaire on her ring finger, then kissed my bride-to-be as passionately and fiercely as I ever had.

  There were no engagement photographers. No photos captured by someone else for social media.

  But I had the record of this moment etched into my mind, and it was perfect.

  It was real, and it was ours.

  And it always would be.

  28

  Brandon

  A few weeks later

  My second shoot for the watchmaker in Los Angeles had been another success.

  So good in fact that the client upgraded me to first class for my return flight home to Paris.

  I wasn’t going to complain.

  Not when I settled into the plush leather seat in the second row. Not when I checked the menu for the flight, my mouth watering over the offerings. And not when I saw the wine list.

  A glass of pinot, a good meal, and a long nap as I crossed the country and then an ocean. Sounded like a perfect plan for the flight. I’d been enjoying the little things in life more, and this sure as hell counted.

  I closed my eyes, settling into my seat, savoring a little moment.

  Then I heard a voice.

  One I’d been hearing since a certain flight a couple of months ago.

  I’d thought she was just a stranger. That was the role I’d assigned to her.

  But I couldn’t get the flight attendant out of my head. Her advice had touched down deep inside me. I wanted to remember her words, to hold on to them, so I’d memorized her voice.

  You’ll get there. I can see in your eyes that you’re thinking about it. I know you’ll get there, and you’ll be glad when you tried.

  And there was that voice again.

  “Can I get you a drink before we take off, Mr. Abernathy?”

  My eyes snapped open as she asked the man in front of me for his beverage order.

  As if on cue, her gaze traveled to mine. She blinked, then a sliver of a smile tugged at her lips. She returned her focus to her customer, who asked for a bourbon.

  A minute later, she brought it to him, then she moved to stand by my seat, a knowing grin on her pretty face. “And what brings you to Paris this time, Mr. Winters?”

  My smile spread of its own accord. She remembered my name. “Just heading home.”

  “What a coincidence. I live there too. Another American in Paris.”

  I sat up straighter, feeling buzzed with possibilities for the first time in ages. “You never told me your name.”

  “You never asked.”

  I smiled at the beauty in front of me and let her own words be my guide. You’ll be glad when you tried.

  “I’m Mr. Winters, as you know. But my friends call me Brandon. And I’d love to know your name.”

  Her smile was radiant. “I’m Miss Parker. But my friends call me Serena.”

  A few months later, I opened the mailbox at my flat, fishing around for bills or letters. I found an invitation. One I’d known was coming.

  I turned and showed it to the woman by my side.

  The woman who’d become my lover, my partner, and my friend.

  Serena Parker moonlighted as a flight attendant, but her passion was helping others find deep love and intimacy through her podcast.

  She was like me. She’d loved and lost, but she was on the other side now.

  So was I, and I was loving life with this woman. We spen
t our free nights together, dining at off-the-beaten-path restaurants, wandering along curving roads lit by streetlamps, and imagining the places we’d travel together. We’d go to faraway islands, eat pineapples, and watch the sunset. Or we’d travel to remote lands, embarking on long hikes that led us to beautiful vistas.

  And this time, we’d return to a place I knew well. A place I wanted to go with Serena.

  “Would you like to go to a wedding in Vegas with the best man?”

  She arched a sexy brow. “I very much would.”

  Epilogue

  Ask Aphrodite

  Hello, my gorgeous lovelies! I’ve been reading your comments and enjoying your questions.

  I love that you have so many, and they remind me of how many paths there are to love and intimacy.

  I’ve noticed, too, quite a plethora of questions about me.

  Who is the woman behind Ask Aphrodite? Who is the woman who guides you through the wilds of desire and sensuality, wherever you are in your journey?

  I’m like all of you. And I’m like myself again.

  We all have our own stories to tell.

  Mine is that I’ve found a second chance.

  And I’m here to say that great love is possible more than once.

  I’ve found it with a new man, and he’s found it with me too. Do we have it all? I’d like to think so. Because I practice what I preach. I practice openness and honesty and communication.

  That, my lovelies, is the heart of what this show is all about.

  Learning how to ask for what you want.

  If you ask for it, you just might get it.

  As for me, I’ll be signing off for a few weeks, since we’re heading to a certain city to attend the wedding of a good friend. And while I’m there, we’ll be eloping, and then flying someplace warm and tropical, where we’ll make love all day and night.

  And we’ll eat pineapples too.