by T Gephart
“Oh, he is soooo cute,” I cooed, not having had a proper chance to see him at the gathering at Kate’s. The room had been filled with so many people and emotions—there wasn’t time for any real interaction. “He looks exactly like you.”
“Poor kid,” Alex laughed.
Roman shook his head, his eyes dropping to the precious bundle in his arms. “He might look like me, but he has his mother’s temperament. I think he actually enjoys tormenting me.”
The chuckle bubbled up my throat. “Babies don’t know how to manipulate, Roman. He’s just probably sensing that you’re tense.”
“Don’t know how to manipulate?” He scoffed. “I’ll bet you my Ferrari the minute Lauren walks through the door, he’ll go right to sleep. Nothing she does is different.”
“Pretty sure you aren’t breastfeeding him,” Alex unhelpfully added. “Ouch, Jesus, Maya.” He grinned as I elbowed him in the ribs.
I moved closer, lowering my face to the little guy. The kid was literally blessed with out-of-this-world Larsson genetics, incredibly cute, no doubt able to charm the world like the rest of them.
“Aw, you’re not a bad boy, you just can’t tell us what you want yet. You’re just misunderstood.” My lips spread into a smile as Lucas wiggled in Roman’s arms.
Roman grinned at his son. “Only a few months old and already making women fall at his feet. Definitely my kid. Now let me get that thing for you.”
Without further explaining what that thing was, he disappeared into another room, taking his now content baby boy with him.
“What are you picking up?” It hadn’t occurred to me to ask before but suddenly I was curious.
Alex shook his head like it was no big deal. “Just some information I wanted to check out. Roman uses a private investigator for some of his cases, and I needed some extra help.”
Lawyers used private investigators all the time; the practice wasn’t new. Whether it was to help recreate a crime scene, check out an alibi or just do some extra digging—it could literally change the outcome of a case.
What wasn’t normal was a lawyer not primarily involved in the case to help facilitate it. Sure, they were family, but it might be seen as blurring the line between privilege, and I knew both men had more integrity than that.
“He’s helping you with a case?” I asked, the question not sounding right. “Isn’t that risky?”
“Not helping. Just allowing me to use his resources. X is on his payroll, not his firm’s, so it’s not like it’s a conflict of interest or anything.”
“His name is X? Do you guys play James Bond in your spare time too?” I laughed. I still wasn’t sure any of it was a smart move but I trusted Alex knew what he was doing.
“His name is Xavier.” Roman returned, with a folder under one arm and Lucas in the other. “X for short. And since you’re here when I’m handing this over, I’m assuming he wants you to know about it too.”
My body twisted, looking at Alex, confused. “Why would I want to know about a file about a case you’re working?”
He took a breath, pushing the air out of his lungs as his smile dropped.
“Because it’s not a case I’m working on, it’s about a job offer.”
Job offer? Hadn’t he just recently started working at Young, McMillian and Walker?
“You’re already thinking about leaving?”
“I was headhunted.” He paused. “By a firm in New York.”
Well.
Shit.
“NEW YORK?”
I hadn’t meant to say it so loud but judging by the looks on their faces, I’d almost shouted it. “As in, on the other side of the country?”
“The very same,” said Roman blandly.
Alex took the file from his brother, his fingers lacing with mine. “I asked Roman to help me investigate and vet the offer considering the size of it, but I wasn’t going to tell you about it until I had a more solid idea what I was looking at. Now,” he rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. “Well now things are different, and I don’t want you to think I’m sneaking around behind your back.”
Granted I had a tendency to draw incorrect conclusions—or at the very least think the worst of the situation—but I wasn’t sure finding out at anytime was going to be easy.
“Investigate what? You’re considering it?” I tried to keep the panic out of my voice. “You’re going to move?”
The words sounded weird coming out of my mouth, partially because he was the last person on earth I thought would move to the East coast especially since he hadn’t even considered it for college. And secondly, I wasn’t expecting to talk about the possibility of leaving the morning after what had been the best sex of my life.
He kissed my forehead sweetly. “I haven’t decided anything yet. But I’m not going to hide anything from you either. You’re too smart for that.”
I really wanted to be mad.
To yell and tell him to tear up the offer.
He’d hate New York. It snowed there, endless days below zero and Californians weren’t built for that kind of cold. And his fancy car would probably end up neglected in some garage in New Jersey because it cost too much to park—assuming you could fine one—in the city.
But how could I ask him to not even consider an offer if it was as good as he was suggesting? He deserved better than that, especially since he didn’t even have to tell me about it.
We’d slept together once, the vague definition of our relationship never promised any longevity. He sure as hell didn’t owe me anything.
“Won’t you miss your car?” I asked, childishly hoping to use logic to convince him to stay. “And it’s so cold there. I should know, I lived in Connecticut and I almost died the first year.” Okay so I was exaggerating, but that first winter I had to buy what was basically a wearable sleeping bag just so I could get out of my dorm.
“Sounds like the two of you have things to talk about.” Roman looked down at Lucas who had fallen asleep in his arms and dropped his voice to a whisper. “And you can do it outside because if this kid doesn’t take a nap soon, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”
We said our quiet goodbyes to Roman and walked back out to the car. I was unintentionally quiet, knowing if I was going to say anything, it should be supportive.
Alex didn’t have the same problem. “Look, we can talk about New York and the job offer or not, but you have to say something.”
“Do you want to leave? I thought you wanted to stay here?” I tried to keep my voice modulated like a reasonable person despite not wanting to be.
He gently lifted his shoulder; the tiny shrug not what I would consider enough of a reaction considering what we were talking about. “Honestly, it wasn’t something I’d even thought about. I love L.A. and I love being close to my family. But it’s a lot of money, and there’s a provision to make junior partner in five years. It could take double that here. They came after me; I wasn’t looking.”
“When did you get the offer?” I heard myself asking.
“Three days before you first called.”
Logic dictated that timing had nothing to do with it. That any serious offer that had the potential to inflate your bank balance and career aspirations needed to be considered regardless of when it arrived. But—there was always a but—I had to wonder if he would have been so eager to have the offer vetted if it had arrived now.
“When do they need an answer?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know but asked anyway.
“They haven’t said, but obviously I can’t string it out either. They’re giving me time to do due diligence. I figure I have one or two more weeks at most before I need to commit.”
One or two weeks?
Shit.
But he would still give notice at his current firm, so that would be another two weeks. So all in all, we could still have a month.
That was assuming he took the job, which was more than likely since he was going to all that trouble.
One month of blissful happiness.
It wasn’t a lot but it was more than I’d had in the past. Maybe it was for the best, letting me have the amazing opportunity to be with him without a possible messy breakup. There was no guarantee we would have lasted forever anyway, and then what? I lose my best friend all over again? We could stay friends, our split because of distance preserving all the wonderful things without the opportunity of anger or hurt.
And I’d still have a whole month.
“You said after we went to Roman’s I could decide what we did all day, right?” My hand wandered across the center console and touched his thigh.
He glanced down at my hand, a confused smile curling on his lips. “Yeah, you have somewhere you want to go?”
“Yes, we need to go pick up condoms and then I want you to take me to bed.” My hand edged higher, moving to the front of his jeans.
“You want to have sex?”
“Yes. Right now.”
After all, if I only had a month, I was determined to make every single second of it count.
I was positive the cashier at Walgreens thought we were sex addicts.
Either that or I was a hooker and he was my pimp. Or maybe it was the other way around, women could do anything they wanted and I would look amazing in a stretch Cadillac and a fedora.
We’d bought enough condoms to have sex three times a day for six weeks and not run out. Which meant I had calculated enough for a variance if we exceeded our daily trifectas. Alex was pretty talented, and I didn’t want the man restricted by a lack of latex.
He’d decided to take me back to his house and I didn’t argue. I loved the idea of being in his bed, the way he had been in mine. There was no way I’d ever lay between my sheets and not picture him. I also had another purpose for which I needed access to his apartment which I wouldn’t ever admit out loud and wasn’t sure if it meant I needed serious help.
While shopping for condoms I’d secretly picked up a bundle of cheesy souvenir postcards at the Walgreens as well. I’d once read a study that found some women left personal belongings—like hair ties or tampons—at a boyfriend’s house in a way to sort of mark their territory. That the reminder was aimed at warding off cheating or to serve as a sign to other women that he was taken. Not sure if it worked for cities—I’ve got your back, Los Angeles—but I wasn’t willing to discount it. So either the postcards of the L.A. landmarks were going to subliminally convince him to stay as he discovered them hidden in strategic places or he was going to think some psycho tourist littered in his house. I was really hoping it was the first option or at the very least that he didn’t discover the psycho was me.
“Wow, the rent on this place must be insane.” The postcards safely hidden in one of the bags of condoms I was holding.
“It’s Eric’s, and he lets me stay out of the kindness of his heart.” He chuckled clutching his own bag of condoms as he opened up the door. “Everyone except Roman has stayed here at one point or another. Nick left after he and Claire got together, so I moved in.”
The door slammed behind us, finally allowing me to have him all to myself.
“Car and an apartment.” I dropped the bag and wrapped my arms around his neck. “You have gotten all kinds of cool hand-me-downs.”
He kissed me, dropping his bag so he could squeeze my ass. “Hey, I got plenty of uncool hand-me-downs too. Five boys, I pretty much wore everyone else’s stuff until I was like twelve. I figure it’s restitution for my previous pain and suffering.”
“My poor Alex.” My hand slithered down his chest, coming to rest on the front of his jeans. “Do you want me to kiss it better?”
His eyes hooded, glancing down to where I’d palmed him. “Yes.” An appreciative rumble traveled up his throat as he watched me unzip.
I wasn’t sure when I turned into a fiend, but since discovering the clock was ticking, I didn’t want to waste anymore time. I lowered myself to my knees, a wicked smirk on my lips as I tugged down his jeans. Next were his boxer briefs, pushed down just enough for his erection to spring free.
“Already hard.” My tongue swirled around the tip as my hand grabbed him, watching him as he watched me.
“I’m finding it difficult to not be hard when you’re around.” He sucked in a breath as my lips covered the tip of his cock. “Maya.”
His hands raked through my hair as I sucked him deeper into my mouth. My hand worked up his length, the tight lock of my fingers straining against his girth as I slowly moved them up and down. My mouth kept busy, licking and sucking him, my syncopated rhythm making him slowly unravel.
“Faster,” he begged, thrusting his hips into my mouth.
Sliding up his hard length with my tongue it curled around the end like it was licking an ice cream cone as I shook my head. “You know I don’t like being told what to do.”
The blue of his eyes filled with black as I sucked hard and fast and then slow and deliberate, drawing it, teasing him as he got harder than I thought was possible.
My own body had its own protests; my nipples rock hard peaks inside of my bra while I felt myself get wet. Every part of me longed to be touched, the dull ache between my legs intensifying while I took him with my mouth.
Struggling to maintain control, his hands scraped my skull, the need to come biting at his heels while he was unwilling to give up my torture.
“Fuck this,” he growled, pulling his cock from my mouth with a loud pop and pulling me off my knees. “You had your chance to make me come in your mouth, now it’s my turn.”
Without giving me a chance to ask what his turn entailed, he kissed me hard on the mouth while his hand lifted my dress. He didn’t bother attempting to take it off, yanking down my underwear roughly as his hand went to what had been covered by soft cotton.
His fingers swirled around the edges of my pussy, feathering lightly across my clit. “So wet, and all from sucking my dick.”
The smile was both sexy and possessive, and I liked it on him, his mouth closing on mine as he thrust two fingers inside of me.
I shuddered out a “yes” as my hand reached out for his cock only to find he’d angled himself out of my reach.
“No.” He shook his head. “You’re not the only one who doesn’t like being told what to do.”
Before I had a chance to argue, he spun me around and bent me over the back of his couch. My face was surrounded by cushions as his hand pressed against my spine. The hem of my dress was pushed up to my waist, the cool air hitting my bare skin replaced by the warmness of his mouth as he kissed my butt.
“I’m going to fuck you, Maya. If you have any objections, now would be the time to raise them.” His hand moved along the crease of my ass teasing me as he waited for my answer.
I strained my head to look at him. “I thought you didn’t like being told what to do?”
A firm smack landed on my ass as a chuckle rumbled up his throat. “Just so we’re both clear.”
His hands left me, the heat from his body taken away as I heard the rustle of the plastic bag. He returned, his hard cock bobbing against my ass as he tore open a box and ripped the foil wrapper. Without looking back and seeing it, I could feel every single movement. The anticipation was killing me, knowing he was rolling on the condom but having no idea what he was thinking as he looked at me bent over his sofa.
His knees edged my legs out further as the blunt head of his cock teased my entrance. It was the only warning I had, his thrust coming in a hard and fast rush. My body contracted, tiny pulses moving along his length as he slid out and then back in again.
My hands gripped the cushions either side of me as he increased the speed, my breasts aching against the fabric of my bra and dress, desperate to be free.
It was different being unable to see, to have myself completely at his mercy, with every single movement heightened by my loss of sight. His hands anchored on my hips as he rocked into me, our breaths panting in unison as he got harder and deeper with each drive.
He circled my clit, teasing me as he took me from behind. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” he groaned into my ear. “Or how good you feel when I’m inside of you.”
It was too much, my body feeling like it was splintering apart as I came hard. He was right there with me, following me off the cliff as he pounded into me, his cock jerking inside of me.
Nothing could be heard over our labored breathing, his hands pulling me back toward him to ease off the pressure on me. “Did I break you?” His lips touched the back of my neck gently. “I promise that wasn’t the plan.”
He pulled out, turning me around into his arms and kissing my mouth. The kisses no less fevered considering we should have both been sated.
He still wanted me.
Even though he’d just come, his hunger was palpable as his mouth nipped and sucked my lips.
“We should probably get undressed.” I looked at his pants and boxer briefs pooled around his ankles and my dressed hiked up at my waist. “Anyone would think we’re a pair of animals.”
“Maybe we are.” He kept his hands on me as he toed off his shoes and kicked off his pants and boxer briefs.
My hands ran across his chest, grabbing the T-shirt and lifting it over his head so I could touch his skin. He was so warm under my fingertips, each ridge of muscle contracting a little as I passed over it.
“I think the request was for you to take me to your bed.” My head dipped down and swirled his nipple. “And while this was nice and all, you still haven’t given me what I wanted.”