You won’t hear me saying no. He starts with a kiss to the hollow of my neck before moving further down. His hand massages my right breast while his lips find the skin just above the bra line of my other breast. I sigh in pleasure as his tongue traces the edge of my bra. I need to feel those lips on my naked skin. I reach forward and unclasp my bra. Thank god for front closure bras.
As soon as my breasts are exposed, Brodie dives in. His mouth captures one nipple, while his fingers pinch the other. I groan and arch my back in a silent demand for more. He growls in approval and practically devours my breast.
I wrap my legs around Brodie as best I can, and he immediately starts pumping. I feel his hard length hitting and rubbing the exact spot where I’m desperate for him. I could come like this, but Brodie has a different plan in mind. He releases my breast with a pop. My eyes open to see him staring at me. He slowly crawls down my body before leaving me entirely. I mewl in displeasure. He smiles as he stands to remove his jeans. I watch the show with more than a bit of fascination. The man is perfection from top to bottom. When he leaves his boxer briefs on, I stick out my bottom lip and pout.
Brodie smirks. “Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first, beautiful. I’m not exactly a small guy.” Judging by the tent in his briefs, he’s not exaggerating.
He grabs my panties and slowly pulls the flimsy material down my body. I take the moment to sit up and divest myself of my bra. His hand cups my mound and I groan as I fall back against the mattress. His middle finger dives into my slit and zeroes in on my clit. I nearly launch myself off the mattress when he presses and circles. “Yes,” I moan. “More,” I demand.
He chuckles before plunging his finger into me. He slowly pumps his finger in and out of me, but slow is nowhere near enough for me. I push down on his finger and try riding it. He adds another finger and starts speeding up his efforts. I’ve had enough. I want him. Not his fingers.
“In me. Now.” I’m demanding like a hussy and I don’t care. Not one tiny bit.
Brodie chuckles before pulling his fingers out of me. “Look at me,” he orders. My eyes open and I peer down to see him stick his fingers in his mouth and suck. “Beautiful and delicious.” He climbs off the bed and pushes his briefs down. His cock springs out and my mouth drops open. He wasn’t kidding about being a big guy.
He grabs a condom from the nightstand and rolls it on his hard length before climbing back on the bed. He covers me and I enjoy the feel of his naked chest against my breasts. I arch my back to rub against him. He groans as his mouth covers mine. His tongue invades as I feel him nudge my opening. I allow my legs to widen further and he pushes in. We groan in unison as he seats himself completely.
“You’re perfect. You feel so good,” he says before starting to glide in and out of me. I enjoy the slow feel of him hitting all the nerve endings inside me, but I want more.
I reach up and grab his head. I maneuver him so I can whisper in his ear, “Faster.”
He groans but shakes his head. “Give me a minute to enjoy finally having you right where I want you.”
I grab his ass cheeks and squeeze. He growls before speeding up until he’s pounding into me. I arch my back and revel in the feeling of him filling me. It doesn’t take long before I’m whispering his name as I come. Brodie pumps into me a few more times before groaning his own completion.
He kisses my forehead before withdrawing and walking to his attached bathroom to deal with the condom. I watch his very fine ass as he leaves. I can barely keep my eyes open. Today has been an exhausting day. An awesome day but exhausting.
Brodie returns and tucks us both under the covers. “Sleep beautiful,” he tells me as he gathers me in his arms. I’m out within seconds of my head hitting his chest.
Chapter 26
A lady should never kiss and tell.
“Oh my god,” Shelby squeals and jumps up and down in her seat, “judging by the look on your face, you finally played hide the sausage with Brodie.”
“Keep it down,” I hiss as I look around to see if anyone heard her. We’re sitting in a coffee shop not too far from Grandma’s house. Shelby arrived at the house this morning and demanded I tell her all about my date. No way we were having a conversation about my night with Brodie with Grandma in the house. The woman is a menace. Since Brodie dropped me off this morning, she’s been humming Here Comes the Bride. Which reminds me, I need to warn Brodie about Grandma. I pull out my phone.
Fair warning. My grandma is now picking out china patterns.
I love your grandma.
Huh. Maybe he doesn’t understand what china patterns means?
China patterns as in she’s reserving the church basement for our wedding reception!!!
I know what you meant.
I wait for more. But nothing arrives, and there aren’t any squiggly lines to indicate he’s typing. I have no idea how to respond to him. I slam my phone down on the table. Has everyone in my life gone mad?
“Trouble in paradise?” Shelby asks but then waves her question away with a flick of her hand. “Whatever. Tell me about your night with Brodie. Bow chicka wow wow.”
My face heats up as my mind floats to last night. I can’t help the grin spreading across my face. Last night was delicious. I can’t wait for a repeat. God, Brodie, he’s everything. Patient when necessary, but also hot as fuck. I squirm in my seat.
“Judging by the dreamy look on your face, Brodie was good.”
I lean forward. “He wasn’t good. He was fantastic. It was the best sex of my life.” Oh crap. I realize I’m practically shouting with excitement. Did anyone hear me? I look around and sure enough, there’s an elderly lady sitting at a table behind me. She winks and gives me a thumbs up. I feel my face heat as I blush. I duck my head and return my attention to Shelby. “What is it with old women and this town? They’re all sex-crazed.”
“I know. Don’t you love it?” Um no. It freaks me out. Especially when my grandma is one of those sex-crazed old ladies in town.
“Let’s talk about something else. Anything else,” I insist.
Shelby shrugs. “Sure. How is the planning of your new business going?”
I walked right into that, didn’t I? “I’m not planning a new business.”
“Why not? It sounds like you have plenty of clients who would move to your firm.”
Plenty of clients? Um, no. One client. “It’s one client and I can’t steal clients from my current place of employment. Stealing clients is bad. Even if there wasn’t a clause in my employment agreement, it’s ethically and morally wrong.”
“Moral and ethics? How old-fashioned of you.” She winks. “The client wants you. You should always give the client what he wants. Unless it’s some old dude who wants to bone you in the handicapped stall.” She shudders.
I giggle. “Now, there’s a story I’d like to hear.”
She holds up her hands. “Not a true story.”
I’m not sure I believe her. Moving on. I realize I haven’t told her about my assistant’s confession. “Anyway, you won’t believe what Jackson said.”
She leans forward. “Oh, do tell.”
“Well, this is crazy but, he said he was into me.”
I swear I see pain slice through Shelby’s eyes before she blinks, and it’s gone. Huh. Lack of sleep must be making me hallucinate. “Why is it crazy to think he’s into you? You are all that and a bag of chips.”
I laugh. She’s kidding, right? Nope. She looks serious. My laugh dies in my throat. “We’re friends. You are obligated by the rules of friendship to think I’m pretty.”
She scrunches her nose up. “You can’t be this delusional about your looks. You have to know you’re beautiful.”
I scoff. I was never beautiful, but “I used to be pretty. Now …” I wave a hand at my cheek.
“For fuck’s sake, it’s a tiny ass scar. It’s barely visible. If you didn’t wear the bandage, no one would even notice.” She sounds mad. Why is she mad? I open my mouth to ask,
but she waves a hand and continues. “This?” She holds up her prosthetic arm. “Everyone notices this. So, please, stop with your self-pity. It’s unbecoming and frankly, it’s getting annoying.”
My mouth drops open as I stare at her. She’s always full of confidence. I didn’t realize until this moment how much missing an arm bothered her. When did I become self-obsessed to the point I don’t realize when a friend is hurting? Shit. I’m a jerk. A selfish jerk.
I reach forward and grab Shelby’s hand. “I’m sorry.” I sound like the loser I obviously am.
Shelby shrugs and pulls her hand back. “It’s fine.” It’s not. It’s really not. But she makes it clear the discussion is over when she changes the subject. “You know, I’m surprised you go by the name Frankie.”
My head nearly spins from the change in direction. “Why? What’s wrong with Frankie?”
“Nothing. Except it’s a tomboy name. And you are not a tomboy.” She gestures at my outfit. Although I’m dressed in leisurewear – such a hideous word – my yoga pants and top are designer and look adorable with my shoes, a pair of black polka dotted loafers.
“Nope. Not even a little bit. But it’s better than Francis.” I wrinkle my nose. I still wonder how my dad managed to talk my mom into naming me after his grandmother. Neither one of them like the name. Unlike Grandma, they have no problems calling me Frankie.
“You could always go by Fran.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Um, no. Have you never watched The Nanny? Her voice.” I shiver.
“What about Fanny? There’s nothing wrong with the name Fanny.”
“Yes, there is. Just ask any of my English clients.” Shelby raises her eyebrows in question. I shake my head. “Google it. I’m not explaining.”
She immediately yanks out her phone. “Oh my god.” Her face turns red. “I had no idea.” She puts her phone away with a shake of her head. “Frankie it is.”
“Anyway,” I ask after taking a huge gulp of my latte macchiato. “What’s going on with you? How’s work?” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Any interesting men sniffing around?”
We spend the next half hour talking about anything and everything. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend like this. One who I could call up for no reason whenever I felt like it. Of course, the past years I haven’t had much time to sit down and have a coffee without worrying about my work suffering. My job kept me on my toes seven days a week. Corporate events do not limit themselves to office hours.
My best girlfriends – Suzanne, Becky, and Bailey – aren’t exactly the type of women who sit around and chat while drinking coffee. No, they’re the ‘let’s find the latest party and get our drink on’ kind of girls. Since I was always ready to party and dance until dawn every chance I got, we got along great.
Now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time I had a serious conversation with Suzanne, Becky, or Bailey. Heck, we may have never had serious conversations. To be fair, when Bailey first joined our girl gang, she used to ask me out for lunch and a chat, but she stopped asking when my answer was always no or worse – radio silence. Crap. I’m starting to realize I might have been just the teeniest bit shallow.
Chapter 27
A lady should admit when she’s wrong.
Heard you had an awesome day at therapy.
If by awesome you mean fell flat on my ass, then yes it was AWESOME. I may be exaggerating a teensy bit. I wobbled but somehow managed to land my ass in a chair. I don’t think anyone believed me when I loudly announced, ‘I meant to do that’.
At least you didn’t rip your pants.
Oh no, he didn’t. I can’t believe you went there.
He ignores my snippiness and instead sends me a message saying he can’t wait to see me tonight.
The doorbell rings while I’m messaging him back. I open it with a smile on my face.
“Someone’s feeling happy today,” Jackson comments before kissing my cheek and sauntering in.
“Come on in, won’t you?” I mutter.
Grandma rushes in. “Oh, Jackson, how lovely to see you.” She grabs him and hugs him. When did they become friends? “Let me go grab you some snacks.”
“What are you doing here?” I’m happy for the distraction, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like I’ve spent more time with him in the past few weeks than in the past year, which is just plain weird since we used to work in the same office day in and day out.
Jackson’s cheeks pink ever so slightly before he pulls a folder out of his bag. “I know Devon gave you another week to think about consulting with Just You.”
The deadline for letting Devon know if I want to consult on the Just Your assignment is today. But I called him up this morning and asked for more time. I simply can’t make up my mind on what I want to do. Lie. I can’t seem to force myself into the idea of going back to the city to work when I’m still walking around on crutches. Another lie. I’m not ready to face the world with my new face. There. I said it. I’m scared. I’m a big fat scaredy-cat.
“I thought since you asked for more time, you might want to consider the business idea some more.”
Not this again. “I don’t know, Jackson. It would be a lot to take on. Not only would we be starting from the ground up with clients, but we’d have to find a rental space, get a business loan, design a website, logo, business cards… the list goes on and on.”
“I know. It’s a lot. But if you break it down into individual tasks, it’s totally do-able. I took the liberty of drawing up a business plan.” He reaches over and hands me the folder.
I stare at him with my mouth open for a second before I open the folder to find a business plan for starting our own marketing and event planning company. He’s not kidding around. The plan is bound in plastic, has colored tabs, and has to be at least fifty pages long.
Grandma bustles in while I’m flipping through the pages of Jackson’s very thorough business plan. “I’ve got freshly baked cookies and some milk for you two.”
“Um, Grandma?” She looks at me with a huge smile on her face. “I hate to break it to you but it’s three in the afternoon and I’m thirty-five years old.” I love her cookies. Man, do I love her cookies, but a woman’s who’s been handed a business plan to start a business she isn’t sure she wants to start – let alone discuss – needs more than chocolate chip cookies.
“Time to break out the liquor?” She asks but doesn’t wait for an answer. She runs off and returns a moment later with a bottle of white wine and three glasses. Three glasses? Uh oh. She fills one glass and hands it to me before filling the other two glasses. “Come on.” She hands one glass to Jackson. “Let’s give her some time to read it, shall we?”
Oh my god! Seriously? Grandma colluded with Jackson to ensure I read his business plan. “Grandma,” I growl. “How in the world did you set this up? Did you steal my phone and copy the contacts?” Although how she would manage such a feat is unclear to me.
“A lady never divulges her secrets,” she says with a wink before dragging Jackson off to the garden.
“We will be discussing this later,” I shout at her. She doesn’t bother responding.
As long as I’m here, I might as well have a look at the business plan. Jackson did go to a lot of trouble to write this plan and set up this elaborate scheme to ensure I read it. I flip through the pages. Including the appendices, it’s over seventy-five pages long. Jackson is not messing around. I take a sip of my wine before setting it down and digging into the plan. When I hear the screen door bang, I’m not sure how much time has passed.
“Does this mean you’re in?” Jackson asks as he points to the plan, which is now filled with comments and suggestions.
I shrug. “I’m still not sure. You’ve done your research, though.” Appendix 1 is a summary of the extensive market research he’s done. “And it looks like there may indeed be a market for a firm like you’ve outlined here.”
“But?”
I take a sip of my wine as I try
to gather my thoughts. Darn it! If he’s serious – and this plan indicates he is indeed very, very serious – then I’m going to have to tell him my reservations – my true reservations. I take another gulp of wine before setting my glass down and leaning forward. “Do you know why I asked Devon for more time?”
“I assume you’re still hung up on the consultant thing.”
I was a bit stung when my boss offered me a consultancy agreement. I mean, I’m an employee on medical leave, why didn’t he ask me to cut my medical leave short and come back to work? But then I realized Devon couldn’t ask me to come back full-time. I’m still not walking and there’s no way I could perform fieldwork, which is an integral part of my job description. And he knows I’m not willing to take a pay cut to sit in the office behind a desk full-time.
“No, that’s not it.” I take a deep breath and tell him the truth. “The things Tara said aren’t exactly wrong. She’s not the only one who will look at me differently now.” I wave towards my cheek. “And, let’s face it, this business is all about presentation. How I look is an integral part of that.”
Jackson holds up his hand. “Let me stop you there. The CEO of Just You has seen you since your accident and he still wants you to manage their account.”
“Yes, but Mr. Ward saw the bandage. He probably assumes the bandage will go away as will whatever is underneath it.”
Jackson stands and comes to kneel in front of me. “I know we didn’t talk about it, but I saw your scar last time I was here.” His words hit me like a slap. I lean as far away from him as I can without falling backwards off the chair. I thought the situation was already uncomfortable. Leave it to a man to make it even more so. “It’s not a big deal.” I scoff. Easy for him to say. “Yes, it’s noticeable and anyone who says otherwise is blowing smoke up your ass.” I nod. Finally, someone who’s telling the truth! “But it’s not hideous.” So much for telling the truth. I open my mouth to disagree, but he stops me with a finger on my lip. “It’s not. To be honest, it gives you character.” I bite back a growl of frustration. I don’t want character! I want my perfect skin back!
About Face (Love in the Suburbs Book 1) Page 13