Page 61 of Collide (The Rhapsody of Heartbeats #1)

Lost Cause

I wake feeling blissful. Thighs sore, naked and tangled in sheets. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

Alex is already up—shirtless, standing by the window, hair tousled, coffee in hand. Better than the view outside. I’m absolutely addicted to the man.

The fire’s burned down to embers, but the heat between us still lingers, slow and thick in the air.

He catches me watching and smirks.

“Morning, ?lskling .”

“Morning, boyfriend . I could get used to this,” I murmur, stretching. My body aches in the best way.

“I like when you say that.” He turns toward me and takes a slow sip, eyes dragging over my body like he’s cataloguing every inch of the damage.

“Say what?”

“Boyfriend.” He chuckles, taking another sip of his coffee.

“So, we’ve run out of food.” He grins, unbothered. “And if I’m not wrong, today’s your last pill. So, unless you want to stay up here and raise a brood of Swedish mountain babies with me, we should probably head back.”

I groan.

He crosses the room and leans down, pressing a kiss to my shoulder, warm and tender, the smell of coffee on his breath.

“I could always swallow,” I tease, licking my lips.

His brow lifts, eyes darkening, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. “What have I done?”

“You’ve only got yourself to blame,” I say, rolling onto my back, my breasts spilling out of the blanket. “You’ve spoilt me. I’ve never been hornier in my life.”

His eyes widen as he takes in the sight, and groans—one of those helpless, wrecked sounds—and drags a hand through his hair like he’s physically trying to hold himself together.

“Elena…” His voice drops. “It’s fucking tempting to put a baby in you. Just to make sure you stay mine forever.”

My heart skitters. My mouth doesn’t care.

“Okay, put a baby in me, please,” I joke sweetly, grinning like I’m high on him.

“You’re far too young and I’m not ready to be a dad… yet .” He pauses. “And I’m not ready to share you like that.”

“How about you fill me up anyway,” I tease, wickedly pulling the blanket down further, raking my fingers down my body.

He curses something in Swedish, tsks, and turns away, shaking his head as he walks back to the kitchen.

The drive back is pure agony—the kind where every glance turns molten, every brush of his hand makes my thighs clench. The number of times we have to talk ourselves out of pulling over and fucking on the side of the road…We lose count.

The only thing that stops us is the very real possibility of being arrested for indecent exposure.

We return to Stockholm still drunk on each other, caught in the high—untouched, reckless, intoxicating.

Just us.

After a quick stop for essentials— condoms —we barely make it through the door of his apartment before we’re on each other again

“Welcome—” He doesn’t finish before my lips are on his, silencing any attempt at hospitality. My fingers grip his shirt, fumbling with the buttons until frustration wins out and I rip it open, buttons scattering across the hardwood floor.

Alex laughs breathlessly, pulling back just enough to raise an amused brow. “You’re eager.”

“You didn’t bring me here for sightseeing.” I smirk, my voice teasing as I tug him closer by the waistband of his jeans.

He groans softly, his mouth chasing mine as he tries to regain control. “But I had a whole tour planned. The balcony has an amazing?—”

“Right now, your dick is the only view I care about,” I whisper against his jaw, teeth grazing playfully.

“Well, if you insist, Darling.”

I shove him playfully, sending him sprawling backward onto the soft rug in the middle of his living room. His laughter is bright, and I’m loving this version of him. Fun and carefree.

I follow, climbing over him, straddling his hips, and run my hands over his chiseled torso before leaning down to capture his lips again.

His hands find my waist, squeezing gently as our kiss deepens. My fingers thread into his hair as I grind my hips against his hard cock growing beneath me.

“Jesus, Elena.”

“You want more?” I shift again.

He gasps as I press into him, his eyes heavy and hungry. “I like watching you be greedy.”

I giggle, heat pooling at my center as my hands slip between us as I tug his jeans open impatiently. “Then pay attention,” I whisper against his ear. “I’ll show you just how greedy I am for you.”

He chuckles breathlessly, as I palm his cock over his underwear. His laughter melts into a deep groan as I give him a firm squeeze. His needy hands lift my dress clean off my body, eyes widening when he sees I’m bare underneath.

“No underwear?” he murmurs, voice thick with appreciation.

“You like that?” I ask, staring down at him with a playful smirk.

He nods. “You dirty little girl.” His voice is raspy as he bites down on his lip, arching himself into me, his hard bulge brushes against my pussy. I moan softly, feeling the heat through the fabric of his briefs.

“I want you now.” Alex’s eyes darken, raw hunger flaring in their depths as he grabs me, flipping us swiftly and pinning me beneath the weight of his body.

His mouth claims mine, hot and possessive, while he rocks his hips against my aching center.

I grind into him shamelessly, desperate friction turning me into a feral cat in heat.

Just as pleasure threatens to swallow me whole, he flips me again, forcing my body flat against the floor, his dominance leaving me breathless and craving more.

“I got this rug in Morocco,” he whispers wickedly. “How about we make a mess of it?”

I hear him put on a condom, then he squeezes my ass with both hands, yanking my hips up, before he slides into me slowly, inch by inch.

My mouth goes slack; of all the positions we’ve tried over the last few days, this has to be my favorite. Face down, ass up.

His grip tightens on my hips, holding me steady as he sinks deeper, finding that rhythm that makes my breath hitch.

“Fuck, Elena,” he rasps as he runs one hand down my back, grabbing the nape of my neck, his fingers running through my hair, and I melt at the feeling.

“You feel incredible like this,” he says as he snakes a hand around, toward my clit, rubbing it with each thrust. “Your pussy was made for me.”

I moan shamelessly, fingers curling into the rug beneath us, sensations spiraling through me as he drives himself deeper. “Harder, Alex. Fuck me harder,” I beg. Meeting him thrust for thrust.

Alex grunts. “So greedy.” He picks up the pace, sending sparks of pleasure through my entire body, the sound of our skin slapping against each other echoes off the walls.

Tingles rise through me as I feel myself inching closer to orgasm.

“Alex!” I cry, coming apart as my arousal runs down my inner thighs, ecstasy rolling over me in waves. Seconds later, Alex follows, gripping my thighs tighter as he fucks my boneless body to climax, calling out my name before collapsing on me.

Breathless and spent, he presses soft kisses along my shoulder, making me shiver.

“I think we officially ruined the rug,” I whisper, feeling the dampness at my knees.

“Worth it,” he laughs.

Later that night, Alex prepares dinner while I sit on the sofa with some tea. “I can’t believe we have to leave tomorrow,” I sigh.

I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to let the world back in.

“Don’t tempt me,” he says, wicked and low.

I smile, watching him power on his phone.

“Back to reality.” I pout, grabbing mine from my bag on the table.

My screen lights up.

Calls. Texts. Notifications.

Riley. Philippa. My father. Mark. Kylie.

What the fuck is going on?

Every app is blowing up. I tap one. My thumb freezes mid-scroll.

Then I gasp.

What the fuck.

Flashing headlines.

My name.

Alex’s name.

Everywhere.

ALEXANDER WESTERBERG’S NEW LOVE AFFAIR—WHO IS THE MYSTERY brUNETTE?

ALEXANDER WESTERBERG EXPECTING A BABY WITH CO-STAR MADISON WALSH. SOURCES CONFIRM.

I blink at the screen as a cold weight settles inside.

Then: MADISON PREGNANT—PREGNANT AND ABANDONED.

My fingers tremble.

But it’s the last headline that steals my breath: THE OTHER WOMAN? FANS ACCUSE SINGER ELENA MONTGOMERY OF HOMEWRECKING SCANDAL.

I claw at my chest.

“Alex,” I choke, shoving my phone at him with shaking hands.

His face pales instantly, his own phone vibrating violently in his grip. He freezes, eyes darting across the screen, reading every word in horror.

“No…no, no.” His voice is sharp and broken, like he can’t make sense of what he’s seeing.

He drags a hand through his hair, pacing now, panic pouring off him in waves. “This can’t—She’s pregnant?”

It feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke.

Hours ago, we were tangled in bed, laughing about Swedish mountain babies.

Now there’s the very real possibility he already has one on the way.

And I’m the punchline.

His voice cracks. “What the fuck?”

Alex’s phone buzzes violently.

He answers it and barks, “What?” but the panic in his voice is unmistakable. Raw. Someone is shouting on the other end. His agent? Publicist? I can’t tell.

Alex turns away, running his hand through his hair as he paces down the hall, voice fraying at the edges.

I stare at my phone, reading the comments, over and over.

The high of the last few days crumbles, crashing violently into cold, brutal reality.

This is why I never let myself get carried away.

Why I never lose control.

Why I never let myself hope.

My knees buckle, and I sink to the floor, head spinning, the phone slipping from my hand.

“Elena—”

Alex is beside me in a flash, dropping to his knees. His face is pale, like he’s seen a ghost.

“I didn’t know,” he breathes, voice shaking. “Elena, I swear to God, I didn’t know. You’ve got to believe me.”

I shake my head, scooting back, hands trembling. “Don’t?—”

His eyes search mine, panic and devastation written across every line of his face. “I didn’t fucking know. I ended things with her. It was over.”

I stare at him, throat tight.

“When?” I whisper, the words barely audible.

His brow furrows. “What?”