by Virna DePaul
For the next half hour, we talk about a few of their clients. I straighten slightly when Owen mentions a couple of models, both who have graced the front cover of Sports Illustrated. Deliberately, I conjure images of them in my head, ruthlessly comparing Julia to them, if only to try and garner some perspective about the my runaway feelings. But my brain has a hard time even picturing the models. As always, the mere thought of Julia has me enthralled. How pretty she is. How smart and wholesome and genuinely kind. How funny. Next to all that is her—real and multi-dimensional—the 2D fantasies of swimsuit models pale in comparison.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I need to give in already. The truth is, I am firmly entrenched in a post-Julia world, and I just need to grow the fuck up and revel in it instead of trying to question my feelings for her all the time.
I’m having a hard time disguising my impatience for the meeting to be over, but somehow I manage. I even sit through a few minutes of small talk, in which Hunter and Declan mention their girlfriends, and Owen gives them shit for being pussy-whipped. The way Hunter and Declan smile tells me they don’t give a shit. They’re happy and, of course, I get it now that I’ve met Julia. In the end, I don’t shake the Kiss brothers’ hands so much as eject myself from Declan’s office.
I told Julia I wouldn’t see her tonight, but I can’t help myself. I want to see Julia. I need to see her, so as soon as my meeting with Lucian is over, I get into my car and drive straight to her place.
After knocking on her door, I wait. No response. I turn the knob, and to my surprise, it’s unlocked.
I need to talk to her about leaving her door unlocked, I think, but I can’t complain. I shut the door quietly—and lock it—making my way to her bedroom. A light is on in the kitchen, and I see a shadow rush down the hallway. The shadow soon transforms into a big black cat—Samson.
I let out a soft laugh. “Hey, boy. It’s just me.” I scratch the cat behind his ears before continuing on to Julia’s room.
I walk into her room quietly, not wanting to startle her. Some light shines through from the streetlamps below, which allows me to see Julia fast asleep in her bed. She’s sprawled on her stomach, the comforter clutched in her hand. I almost don’t want to wake her up, she looks so peaceful.
But I remember the phone sex from earlier, and I can’t resist. I touch her forehead, and then after I rub her shoulder, she moans and wakes up. Her eyelashes flutter.
“Bastian?” Her voice is croaky with sleep. “What are you doing here?”
I sit down on the bed, and she stretches and sits up with a yawn. “I needed to see you,” I reply.
It takes her a few more moments to wake up, and I wait. But it’s a struggle. I need her so badly that I can feel it in my bones.
“Wait, how did you get inside?” she asks me in confusion.
“You left your front door unlocked. Which we will discuss—later.”
“Oh, are we—?”
I cut off her reply with a kiss. She tastes like mint, and I delve my tongue between her lips to taste more of her. The phone sex was amazing, but this is what I truly needed: her, with me, beside me. Underneath me. She lets out a moan that only turns me on more. I’ve been hard all evening, thinking about her.
“I thought you said you had a meeting.” She tilts her head back to give me better access to kiss her neck.
“I did. I didn’t hear a damn thing in it because I needed to see you.” I sound like I’m accusing her of something, and I guess in a way, I am. She’s completely upset my life since I first saw her working. Hadn’t my life been just fine before she’d come barreling into it?
“Bastian . . .” She sighs as she runs her fingers through my hair.
I lick and taste her skin, loving the warmth permeating from her. Soon, we sink into the bed, and I press my hips against hers. She moans my name. I kiss her harder as I push my cock against the place I’ve been dreaming about for hours today.
We don’t waste any time. It’s as if we’ve been starving for each other for years. We strip out of our clothes, and then we’re naked, kissing and touching. I suck her nipples, and she runs her fingers down my chest. I’m on fire for her, and I’m half afraid I’ll combust before we get to the main act. When has any woman gotten under my skin like this?
I part her legs and touch her pussy, finding her wet already. She parts her legs farther to give me better access. I slick a finger through her folds, but I need to be inside her. I need to feel her around me.
I mutter an apology when I get up and begin to rifle through my wallet for a condom. I hear her laugh huskily, and no doubt she’s remembering when she held onto my wallet and found the condoms in there. I growl as I climb back on top of her, sheathing my cock in the latex before pressing the tip against her core.
“Are you laughing at me?” I slowly inch inside her, and I close my eyes at the feeling.
“No, I would never laugh at you. Oh God, why are you going so slow?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh.
I enter her inch by inch until I’m completely inside her, just like I told her to imagine I was when we talked on the phone. She lets out a mewling cry when I don’t move. Clutching at my forearms, she tries to buck her hips to get me to move.
“Bastian . . .”
I suck at her neck before saying, “Tell me again, Julia. How do you want me to fuck you?”
“Hard,” she says without any hesitation. Not this time. “Hard and fast.”
I chuckle, but then the chuckle turns into a groan when I pull out and slam back inside her. She squeals, her nails digging into my arms. I thrust in relentless strokes, our bodies slapping together. The headboard squeaks, but it just provides a harmony to the melody of our groans and curses as we climb higher and higher.
I feel my balls tighten up. I know I’m close. I reach down and find her clit, rubbing it.
“Come for me,” I command her. “Come for me.”
Her breath hitches, and as I rub her clit harder, I can feel her sheath start to milk my cock. She lets out a scream as she comes, and it sets off my own orgasm. I shout, pumping my hips against her. I fill her over and over, and in that moment, my mind completely blanks. I can only feel our bodies together.
After I get rid of the condom, I collapse beside her and pull her into my arms. It’s only seconds later that we both fall asleep.
I wake up before Julia does. I gaze down at her sleeping face for a while, simply drinking her in, but Samson chooses that moment to hop onto the bed and meow plaintively.
“Okay, come on, buddy,” I tell the cat. “I’ll feed you so you don’t bother your mistress.”
Samson follows me into the kitchen and I find the cat food on the ledge. He circles around me, mewing, and after I pour what I think is a suitable amount of food into his bowl, he leaves me alone to munch on his breakfast.
Speaking of which . . . my stomach growls. I didn’t eat last night after my meeting, and now I’m absolutely starving. I look through Julia’s fridge, glad to see that she has more than a bottle of ketchup and old takeout in there.
I’m not much of a cook, but I can make some mean eggs when the occasion calls for it. As Samson finishes his own breakfast, I whisk the eggs and begin to scramble them.
“Are you making me breakfast?” Julia pads into the kitchen, yawning widely.
I smile at her. “Did I wake you up? I tried to be quiet.”
She shakes her head. “I always wake up around this time. Plus, Samson usually climbs all over me to be fed, so I was wondering what was up with him.” She sees the cat licking his chops. “Well, I see that I didn’t need to worry. Did Bastian feed you, you lazy bum?”
She picks up the cat, who only gives me a look that says please save me when Julia begins kissing him on his head repeatedly.
“Now you’re making me jealous of a cat,” I grumble with a smile.
She grins. “Samson will always be my first love. Sorry.” Setting the cat down, she turns to me, but I have to look back a
t the eggs instead of meeting her eyes.
Love. She said love. Did she mean that she’s in love with me? The thought should send me into a blind panic, but oddly enough, it only bolsters my resolve to protect. To be with her. I don’t know if I’m in love with her, but I’d be a liar if I said that I wasn’t getting close to that point.
I finish up the eggs and we sit down to eat. Samson curls up in a chair next to Julia, his tail swishing, and we eat with gusto.
“Somebody’s hungry,” I comment.
She blushes. “Well, somebody kept me up half the night,” she replies with a sniff. “Besides, you burn a lot of calories having sex. I’d be worried if we weren’t starving afterward.”
I laugh out loud at that. Julia smiles, and it just makes my heart pound faster.
God, I’m in deep, aren’t I?
Even after we finish eating, we don’t leave the table. We drink coffee together, chatting and laughing and talking about anything and everything. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we’re like an old married couple with the way we are acting. Just imagining Julia as my wife makes my chest hurt.
“So what was your meeting about?” She sips her coffee—cream, no sugar. That’s something else I’ve learned about her.
I shrug. “Who knows. I was only thinking about you.”
“Aw, you charmer. I can just imagine you, sitting in your meeting, with big heart-eyes as you dream about me.”
“What are heart-eyes?”
She goggles at me. “Haven’t you ever watched cartoons? No? It’s when a cartoon character is in love or really happy. Their eyes turn into hearts. Come on, you aren’t that old.”
I give her a wry look. “And now you’re making me feel old.”
“We’re going to have to educate you. There are so many things you’ve missed out on: cat videos, internet memes, new slang.”
I want to counter that I’m only a few years older than Julia, but she’s enjoying teasing me too much to care. I don’t mind. Anything to get her to smile and laugh. She can make fun of me all day and night if she wants to.
Well, maybe not during the night. The nights are for making her moan.
After she gets another cup of coffee, I pull her down onto my lap.
“Are you happy?” I ask her suddenly.
She cocks her head to the side. “Do I look like I’m not?”
I’m not even sure what I meant by the question, but for some reason, I want to make certain that she’s happy. That I’m bringing her only joy, not pain. I think about having lupus, how she tried to avoid me, and I clutch her tighter.
“I know finding out that I’m sick wasn’t fun, but I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ll be fine. Okay?”
She doesn’t seem convinced, but instead of letting her disagree, I pull her down for a kiss. She tastes like coffee, and I can’t get enough. Plucking her mug from her fingers so she doesn’t spill it, I place it on the table before continuing to kiss her. We kiss the morning away, but nothing else. It’s sweet and tender, and I never want to stop.
Julia eventually tells me she has to take a shower to get ready for work.
I tickle her foot, which makes her giggle. “Call in sick. Then we can make love all afternoon and all night.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t, I’m sorry—oh, stop that!”
I just keep tickling her, but she won’t give in. “I really have to get ready. Besides, don’t you have stuff to do? Work? Meetings? Old people things?”
I pinch her; she yelps. “Don’t be impertinent. In fact, I do have things to do. Very important, adult things.”
She pats me on the chest. “Go get your Metamucil, old man. Try not to break a hip walking up your stairs.”
I growl as I kiss her, showing her just how “old” I really am.
22
Bastian
A few days later, I’m sitting at my desk trying to get through my endless list of emails when Lucian knocks on my open door before shutting it behind him. Seeing his grim expression, I sigh.
“What’s happened now?” I ask.
“Ryland Masters is what happened—again.” Lucian sits down and runs a hand through his hair, disheveling it. He looks about as run down as me. “He found out about you and Julia. I don’t know how, but he’s pissed. Really, really pissed.”
I wince. Of course he found out, what with my behavior at Gary’s. I’m sure Ryland had an inkling, but he also didn’t know we were really together until I basically threw her over my shoulder and carried her into the back.
“That’s my fault, I’m afraid,” I confess. At Lucian’s look, I say, “I ran into Ryland and Julia at Gary’s and kind of lost it. I thought they were on a date.”
Lucian stares at me, and then he grins. “God, Bastian, are you serious? That’s fabulous!”
“Is it?”
“Yes! I know how you are. Know you’ve avoided getting into another relationship because of your lupus. This just tells me how strong your feelings are for Julia.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “Strong is one way to put it. She actually came by last week. Took care of me for a while.”
“Good. Don’t fuck it up.”
“Last thing I want to do.” And I mean it. For the past week Julia and I have spent as much as our off time together as possible, and I swear it’s been the happiest time of my life. “So what do you propose we do now? Because I don’t think sending Ryland a fruit basket is gonna help.”
Part of me almost hopes Ryland will dump us completely. He’s been more trouble than he’s worth, but he’s also one of our biggest clients. I sit back in my chair, trying to think of a plan through my haze of exhaustion. I know I can’t push myself too hard or I’ll relapse again, but at the same time, I can’t slack off on this.
“We have to show him we’re on his side,” I think out loud. “We need to go forward and let him invest his money as he wants. I looked more into his friend’s business, and although it’s not a guarantee, it could be successful in the right hands.”
“So we’re just going to appease him and hope he doesn’t have another temper tantrum?”
I shrug. “Basically. Unless you have a better idea?”
“What do we have to lose?” Lucian lets out a breath. He gets up and is about to open my office door when he says, “I think you made the right decision, for what it’s worth. To be with Julia, that is. I think she’s good for you.”
I don’t reply, but I don’t need to. Because Lucian’s right: she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Julia
After spending a lazy morning in bed (recovering from a particularly active evening in bed with Bastian), I decide I’m going to surprise him by bringing him lunch before my shift at the grocery store. Already I feel excited tingles at the prospect of seeing him, which tells me, given all the time we’ve already been spending together, just how ga-ga I am for the man. I think I can spend the next fifty years with him and it would never get old. I’ve even managed to stop that incessant voice in my head that tells me I’m not good enough for him. For whatever reason, Bastian doesn’t agree, and I’ve decided I’m simply going to thank my lucky stars and enjoy being with the man of my dreams for as long as it lasts.
After puttering around my place, I make a yummy turkey sandwich with crispy ciabatta bread, tomatoes, lettuce, and fresh mustard (which I know he likes), and I put together a light salad to go along with it. I don’t cook a whole lot since I work so much and often have weird hours, but it’s nice to prepare a meal for someone else. Placing everything into a lunch sack, I get in my car and drive over to Bastian’s work. I smile at the thought of surprising him.
When I get there, Noah tells me Bastian is in a meeting but will be with me shortly. He’s staring at me like I’m some kind of alien, and I remember how I’d told Bastian to go to hell when last I’d been there. I blush. I almost want to tell him that we’ve made up—and then some—but then again, that could make things even more awkward
. So I keep quiet and wait.
I feel a little silly after some time passes, sitting there with a sandwich for Bastian. Maybe he’s already eaten? Maybe he’s out to lunch? I’m about to give Holly the lunch and leave when none other than Ryland Masters walks through the glass doors.
I freeze. I haven’t heard from him since Gary’s, and I wish I could hide underneath my chair so I don’t have to talk to him, but the second he spots me, I’ve become his prey. I grip the lunch bag tighter, the paper crinkling underneath my fingers.
“Mr. Masters,” Noah says, “Mr. Rich is in a meeting right now, but I’ll let Holly know you’re here.”
Obviously he’s here without an appointment. Ryland, though, just waves his hand at Noah. He may not be able to talk to Bastian, but he’s seen me. And I can’t exactly get up and run away screaming.
“Actually, don’t call Holly yet, thanks,” Ryland says to Noah, then he sits next to me like we’re best friends. I’m still pissed at him for being so childish during our not-date, and I refuse to talk to him. He touches my arm, though, and I’m forced to meet his gaze.
He tilts his head toward an open, empty office. “Can we talk?” His voice is soft, hopeful, and some of my anger melts away. He probably didn’t intend to deceive me. And I didn’t help by not recognizing that he’s interested in me. I don’t want to be alone with him, but at the same time, we should probably get this over with before it gets worse. With a tight nod, I rise and follow him into the office. He closes the door behind me.
“How are you?” He stuffs his hands into his pockets, looking uncertain.
I’m not even sure how to answer this question. For one thing, it’s none of his business, not to mention he has no right to press about my personal life. We’re not dating. Yeah, sure, maybe I could’ve handled things better, but he also made a lot of assumptions and then got upset when those assumptions were wrong.