I inhale the scent of his cologne encompassed in garlic and oregano. “For so many things. How about you?”
“Famished. Let’s satisfy one hunger at a time?”
“I guess there’s no rush. We have all weekend.”
“Yes,” he says, tugging me toward the kitchen.
Though it isn’t my first visit this week, I take in his apartment. It reminds me a little of the one Kimbra and I shared, but bigger. In New York City, space costs money. There are few people I know who have a place like Duncan and Kimbra’s. That’s all right by me. I like the feel of Trevor’s apartment. It opens from the hallway into his living room. There’s no balcony, but there is a fire escape outside the window. On a night like tonight we could move out there and enjoy the night air.
His kitchen is larger than the one Kimbra and I had. His is remodeled, as the building is too old for the stainless-steel appliances and white and gray decor. The way it is designed, there isn’t room for a table, but instead, there’s a breakfast bar with three tall stools.
I know from past visits that there are also two bedrooms. Trevor told me about plans to turn the room his friend Eric had used into a study or an office. Right now, that one could be classified as a storage unit with boxes, a bicycle, and I think I even saw some snow skis.
Admittedly, I’ve spent more time in Trevor’s bedroom. The bathrooms are small in comparison, again showing the age of the building. However, I can happily report that we both fit into the shower and yes, Trevor can sing.
My memories are a tad foggy, but I’m pretty sure he made me sing the last time I was in there with him. That is more exciting when you realize that I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.
“We do have all weekend,” Trevor says, peeking at me over his broad shoulder as he leads me to the kitchen. With a glint in his eye, he adds, “And rushing is not on the itinerary.”
His words twist my insides, reminding me of the first night we came together, not the crazed passion against the wall, but the slow torture once we made it to my hotel bed. “Maybe we could find a happy medium?”
Trevor laughs as he pulls out a bar stool at the breakfast counter. “For you.”
As soon as I climb onto the stool, I see the source of the fantastic aroma. Across the bar, on the other counter is a large white box, the edges discolored with grease, and I know I’ve met the man of my dreams. “I see you have been cooking all day.”
“Hey, I found a lady who likes pizza as much as I do. I’m taking advantage.”
“I do love pizza. Anything else?”
“Wine.”
“My favorite combination.”
Before he walks over to the food, Trevor bends down and kisses that spot behind my ear, sending chills through me, tightening the twists inside, and leaving goose bumps along my skin. His large hands skirt across my shoulders, lifting my ponytail. “T-Trevor...”
“Oh, you can’t wear your hair away from your neck and expect me to behave.”
I reach for my ponytail. “Would you believe me if I said that I didn’t even think of that when I did it?”
“Yes...”
He kisses my exposed neck once again. This time the chills cover my entire body, making me glad I’m wearing a padded bra because I don’t have nipple tape in my suitcase. I close my eyes as his warm breath tickles my skin.
His deep voice rumbles through me. “It won’t happen again.”
I lean back. “You won’t kiss my neck?”
“No,” he says with a grin. “I will definitely kiss your neck and your collarbone and...” His grin grows as his finger teases the neckline of my top. “You won’t fix your hair this way...ever...that you don’t think about my lips on you.”
I reach up and run my fingers through his messy mane. “As long as you think of me whenever you forget to comb yours.”
“I always forget to comb it.”
“Then think of me—always.”
He twists the stool until I’m parallel with the counter, and he’s in the space between my thighs. “My lady, since last May, you’re all I think about.”
“Is that why you forget to comb your hair?”
“It’s why I can’t think of anything else. Are you sure you’re hungr—”
We both laugh as the rumble from my stomach interrupts his question.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t eat much lunch.”
With a kiss to my cheek, Trevor backs away. “Sustenance first. With the plans I made, you’re going to need it.”
“I like the way that sounds.” As he steps around the counter, I ask, “Can I help you with anything?”
“Your job is to relax. This weekend is our no-plans weekend.”
“So...what do you have planned for our no-plans weekend?”
As he places two large wine goblets on the counter, he glances at me through his lashes. “Do you think I planned something?”
“Yes, Trevor Willis. I think I’m starting to figure you out.”
“You are?”
“Well, you just said that with your plans I need sustenance. And besides, you’re not a seat-of-your-pants kind of guy.”
Trevor twists around and looks at the back of his jeans.
“Don’t be so damn cute. Yes, you have a great ass. I like the seat of your pants. What I mean is that you plan your breakfast before you go to bed. I’d put money on the fact that we have plans.”
His brows rise and fall. “First, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. What if you don’t plan and then when it’s time, you’re out of eggs or cereal? The possibilities are numerous and would have lasting effects on the entire day.”
“See. I’d win the bet.”
“How much are you willing to bet?”
I feel the warmth in my cheeks. “Me.”
“So if you’re right, I can’t have you all weekend?”
“If I’m right, I get to decide when and how you get me.”
His chest grows as he inhales. The stream of wine coming from the bottle he’s pouring grows precariously close to the rim of the glass as the muscles in his arms tense, bringing forth a beautiful array of bulging tendons and veins. Once he places the wine bottle on the counter, he exhales and replies, “Sorry, my lady.”
“You won’t take my bet?”
“Not for this weekend.”
“Then you do have plans.”
He hands me a glass of red wine. “I do but for more than a weekend. I understand that we don’t know what the future will bring, but, Shana Price, my goal for this weekend and beyond is that no matter what I do, how I ravage you with unbridled passion or torture you with slow and thorough lovemaking, that you are in full agreement.” He clinks our glasses. “You have my word, I’ll never do anything you don’t decide is right, but I will do my damnedest to convince you to let me give it a try.”
I bring the rim of the glass to my lips as I think about his toast and take a drink. Once I sip, I place the glass back on the counter and say, “I’m not very good at giving up control.”
“You don’t have to. I’d never expect that.”
“I don’t? You wouldn’t?”
“No, my lady, you have all the power.”
“Then tell me our plans.”
He reaches for two paper plates and grins. “See, I like it when you’re bossy.”
I take another sip of the wine. “You may like it, but you suck at obeying.”
He hands me a plate overflowing with a warm slice of pizza. “Yes, I do. We can work on sucking later. First, we eat.”
“And then sucking...?”
“And then...you trust me to keep my word.”
I wake to the soft sound of Trevor’s breathing. The window in his bedroom is open, allowing the soundtrack of city noises to float through the warming air. Cars and horns and brakes and voices have been our background music for the last incredible night and day and into this night.
I roll toward him, making out his features in the dim illumination. My fi
ngers itch to comb his hair back and feel his soft, short beard. I marvel at the slope of his nose and the way his forehead protrudes. It’s a comforting combination as if he’s still planning and thinking in his dreams, yet relaxed and content.
It isn’t often that I’m the one awake. It seems that when we’re together, I’m the one who wakes to his sexy smile. The few moments of seeing him at peace gives me a strange sense of satisfaction.
I can’t deny that he makes me happy, and with all my heart, I believe it’s mutual. I’m not sure a man can fake the gratification he’s shown.
Our plan-free weekend has been filled with marvelous options that I never expected. It has consisted of everything and nothing—from pizza to shower concerts, to wrapped-in-towels Netflix marathons, to dressed in his shorts or maybe just his T-shirt and sitting on the fire escape, to long torturous, thoroughly gratifying sexual encounters and finding sustenance. Except for accepting deliveries, the door to his apartment hasn’t opened, and we mutually decided to turn off our phones.
After the mess that has been the last three weeks of work, I had no idea how much I needed a do-nothing-but-sleep-eat-screw-and-relax weekend. It’s been perfect and yet as I lie here beside him, my chest aches.
If I were smart and sensible, I wouldn’t wait. Instead, I’d ease my way out of his bed now and slip out of his apartment and his life.
I just know that this time next week I’ll be back in London. I also know that it won’t be to pack.
Don’t ask me how I know.
I do.
And yet I can’t pry myself away from this man.
It’s an attraction like I’ve never known. From his warm, naked body beside mine and his plans for our plan-free weekend, to the knowledge that I’m supposed to meet his parents tomorrow...or is it today?
I search for a clock.
Two in the morning.
It’s today.
As much as I don’t want to hurt him when I tell him I’m moving back to London, I can’t make me hurt myself by giving up one minute we could be together. Even if it is the smart thing to do, I can’t pull myself away.
I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll be able to make myself step onto the plane next Friday.
I’ve never before considered a relationship over my career, and I find it puzzling that the thoughts are even occurring. Yet they are.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Trevor
I wake to my dark bedroom and reach for Shana, but she’s not there. All at once, I’m sitting up and straining into the darkness, scanning my bedroom and listening for anything. The sounds of the city that never sleeps are just beyond my window while everything within reach is silent. Well, except for my heart. It’s now beating within my ears.
“Shana?”
I call out once and then again, louder. “Shana.”
My feet hit the floor as I make my way toward the attached bathroom.
The door is wide and she’s not there.
I race toward the hall to the second bathroom.
Empty.
An unfamiliar sense of panic bubbles from deep inside me.
Where is she?
What happened?
I’m not losing her again. Not after the time we’ve had together. I won’t.
“Shana.”
It’s as I turn from the hallway to the living room that I remember to breathe and my heart slows to a healthy pace.
Outside the window beyond the open pane is her silhouette upon the fire escape. For only a second, I stand and watch.
Her long unrestrained hair is blowing around her as she sits upon the windowsill. Step by step with my bare feet upon the wood floor, I slowly approach, not wanting to startle her and at the same time wondering how she didn’t hear me.
“Shana?” I say softly, lifting the sash higher.
“Trevor?”
Though she turned away after saying my name, it wasn’t before I saw the glistening tears on her cheeks or heard the emotion in my name.
I reach out my hand. “Baby, please come back in.”
She shakes her head, but nevertheless, she does as I ask, gripping my hand and stepping over the sill and back into the apartment. Neither of us mentions my total lack of clothing as her long legs bend, toes point, and feet come into contact with the hardwood floor. As she gracefully navigates the window, I’m reminded of her on that runway. With as beautiful as she was that afternoon, I find having her here with nothing on but my T-shirt even sexier.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” she says, wrapping her arms around my torso and burying her face against my chest. She’s chilled against my skin.
Wrapping her in my arms, we stand before the window, neither of us speaking. From the way she’s trembling, I’m afraid the source of her shaking is from more than the cool night air. From the dampness on my chest, I believe she’s crying. Although I’ve never been good at women’s emotions—is any man?—I slowly rub a circle upon her back until she takes a deep breath.
“Shana, what is it?”
When she looks up, her blue eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I bought something. I brought it here and forgot to wear it.”
“What?”
She pulls away. “It’s Sunday. We’re going to your brother’s for dinner. I have to go back to the hotel and then...then...” She turns away.
Reaching for her hand, I pull her back to my embrace. “And then we’ll handle what comes next.”
“But you don’t understand. I forgot about the nightgown. Now it’s too late.”
I shake my head trying to figure out what she’s saying. “My lady, you are the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. I personally think that Saks should consider a boyfriend’s T-shirt line. I mean, I know they’ll charge ten times as much as the real T-shirt, but damn, seeing you in mine and nothing else—it’s hot.”
She cranes her neck upward. “But I bought it for you. And now...” Her forehead drops to my chest.
Slowly, I release her and take a step back. “I’m still here and so are you.”
“No. It doesn’t work like that.”
“What doesn’t work like what?”
“I’m supposed to surprise you and come out of the bathroom all sexy, not a snotty mess with tangled hair like someone who’s been sitting outside crying.”
I palm her cheek as she tilts her head toward my hand. “Shana Price, you’re sexy every minute of every day and night.” I tease her hair with my fingers. “And I know how your hair got like that, which makes it the sexiest hairstyle you could ever wear.”
“But...”
“Yes, I love your butt and your tits. If you bought me a surprise, I don’t want to miss it.”
“Now, it’s not a surp—”
I touch my finger to her lips. “Should I wait out here or in bed?”
Her tits push outward as she inhales, yet her blue eyes never leave mine. Finally, she replies, “It’s the middle of the night.”
“No, my lady, it’s the middle of our weekend. You tell me, bed or here, or I’ll decide.”
“Bed...but give me a minute first and promise me that you won’t fall asleep.”
“There’s not a chance.”
Shana slips through my fingers as her smile reemerges.
While I give her the minute she requested, I close the living room window. Before I do, I glance out and up. The space between the buildings isn’t large, yet up in the sky is a full moon. I think of an old childhood story about wishes. I’m not sure what makes me think of it, but with my hands on the windowsill I look up to the moon. My mind tells me it’s children’s fables, that I used up my quota when I was young.
For the first time, I’m not listening to my mind.
My heart wants another one. I speak softly. “If wishes can come true, I want to fulfill every one of hers...and I don’t want mine to end.”
When I reach the bedroom, I hear Shana in the bathroom as light seeps from under the door.
Instead of thinking about why she
was really out on the fire escape crying, I concentrate on whatever she has for my surprise. Each thought returns blood to my cock, reviving the erection that has been perpetual since she arrived here Friday night. I reach for the sheet, not wanting her to think that sex is my only thought. As I do, she calls out to me.
“Trevor? Are you there?”
“I’m always here.”
Slowly the door opens. With the backlight surrounding her, she reminds me of the pictures they show you of angels. That’s what she is to me, and yet the negligee she’s wearing would probably prohibit her from entering heaven’s gates.
“Holy shit...” I mutter as I sit taller, completely unaware that the sheet I used to cover me is now lifted like a tent ready for camping.
Her cheeks rise as she comes closer, and her gaze goes from my lap to my eyes. “I guess that means you like your surprise?”
“You’re fucking gorgeous.” Forgetting my effort to cover myself I reach for her hand and stand. Lifting our hands, she slowly spins as her beauty is displayed from every angle. “I’m glad you didn’t wear that one onstage.”
“It’s only for you.”
“My favorite kind of fashion show with my absolutely favorite model.”
Letting go of my hand, she walks to the end of the bed and stops. Turning she continues around to the other side.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m giving you your own show.”
“Oh, I’ve seen enough. Come back here.”
“Are you telling me what to do?”
“I am. Are you in agreement?”
Her smile broadens as she does as I said and comes closer. Looking first at my erection and then back to me, she says, “Yes, Trevor. I’ve never been in more agreement in my life.”
“What do you want right now, my lady?”
“I want you.”
“You’ve got me. Tell me more,” I say.
As her cheeks grow pinker, she does. She tells me more.
Reaching for my cock, she runs her hand up and down my length. “This time, I want to be on top. I want to be the one who decides when you...”
“When I come?”
“Yes.”
All ONES: The Complete Collection Page 54