by Nicole James
“Hey, it’s Saint. I need your place for a few hours.” I explain what I want in detail, and he argues. “Listen, old man. I’ll owe you one.” I blow out a breath as he negotiates with me for more. “Fine, just name your price.” I listen to his reply. “How much?” I whistle at the amount; it’s enough to give me pause, but she’s worth it. “Okay, fine, but we get as long as she wants, understand?”
“Who are you talking to?”
I whirl, jamming the phone in my pocket. “Nobody, what’s up?”
“Mary Elizabeth invited me to the lake for the day. Her parents have a summer place on Lake Lanier.”
Mary Elizabeth pipes in. “You’re welcome to come. We’ll have the place to ourselves. Well, except for my brother and his friends. We thought we’d take the pontoon boat out.”
“He probably can’t come. He’s always busy.”
“Actually, I’ve got the next couple of days free, so I’d love to come along, Mary Elizabeth.” I love the way Kami’s mouth drops open, and I wink at her.
***
Kami—
Mary Elizabeth and I sit at the bow of the pontoon boat, watching the sun setting over the lake. Our legs dangle, our feet in the water. It’s been a great day. Her brother brought us out to the shallows where everyone anchors to party and swim—all young kids like us from places around the lake. We ended up having a water fight with me on Saint’s shoulders, and we won every round.
Mary Elizabeth bet Saint he couldn’t lift me over his head like in the movie Dirty Dancing with Patrick Swayze. Of course he had to take the bet. Good thing I’ve had years of ballet and knew how to do a lift. We got it on our first try, and everyone cheered.
Mary Elizabeth looks over her shoulder to where Saint and her twin brother are talking about motorcycles under the sunshade. “If Joe comes home with a Harley, my parents are going to flip.”
I giggle and bump my shoulder into hers. “He’s got all that graduation money burning a hole in his pocket.”
“Joe on a Harley. I never knew he had a rebel side.”
“I think he’d look cool on one,” I tease.
“Do not encourage him. My mom would flip her shit.” She looks back at them again. “Now, Saint on the other hand has badass biker written all over him. My God, those tattoos. When he took his shirt off, I thought I was going to melt in a puddle at his feet.”
I roll my eyes.
She stares at me. “Oh, please, like you haven’t noticed.”
“Hush,” I hiss. “He’ll hear us. And yes, I noticed.”
“Has he kissed you?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
I shrug. “This is only temporary. He’s made that clear more than once.”
“So, you two haven’t…”
“No. I mean, we fooled around a little, but we haven’t actually—you know…”
“Why not?”
“Because he stopped us. He doesn’t want me thinking this is a real marriage. I think he’s worried I’ll get attached or something.”
“Will you?”
“Nooo.” I glare at her like she’s just said something ridiculous, because she has.
“You know, I didn’t want to like him, but, he’s been so sweet to you all day, coming out here, making sure you had a good day, getting you drinks… I mean, he’s kind of a great guy. And when he did that lift with you in the water, oh my God, I was blown away. You must feel something for him.
“I do, and every day we’re living this charade it gets easier to pretend it’s real. I start to let myself believe the lie, and it feels right. I can’t deny that he has this huge pull over me, and pretending I belong to him makes me want him all the more.”
“Maybe you should give this a chance.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean overcoming that fear of yours and becoming fully committed to Saint for real…like, a real marriage.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“He did you a big favor—huge! That has to mean something.”
“He did it for my mother, not for me.”
“Whatever. Why don’t you stop thinking about yourself for a change? You think this has been easy for him? But he did it anyway. Isn’t he the guy you crushed on? You’ve been handed him on a silver platter. Make the most of it.”
“Maybe.”
“It’s not like guys are standing in line to be with you anymore. You being prom queen—those days are over.”
“Kick me while I’m down, why don’t you?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just being a realist, sweetie.” She bumps me with her shoulder, then looks back over her shoulder toward Saint. “So, how’d he get the black eye?”
I splash my foot in the water. “One of the Kings came over yesterday. Saint’s sponsor—he found out Saint’s been lying to him about me. He beat up Saint and now he might lose his chance at a patch because of me.”
“That’s not good.”
“I know. So you see, I have to go. I’m eighteen now, and that’s all he committed to. I said I’d go when this day came. I’ve caused him enough trouble.”
“Surely he can’t mean to toss you out.”
I stare off at the horizon. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I guess I’ll have to use what money I have or sell my mother’s jewelry.”
“Look, maybe you can come stay at my house until I leave for college. I could ask my mom. I’m sure she’ll let you.”
“I appreciate it. But when you leave for college next month, what will I do?
“I don’t know, sweetie.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Kami—
I follow Saint back into the cottage.
As the sun disappeared below the horizon earlier, he was suddenly insistent we return, saying there was something he needed to take care of. I suppose I should be grateful he came at all, and we really did have a wonderful day. I hated seeing it end, and I hated leaving my old friends, but I didn’t want to ruin it by making a fuss about leaving. Besides, Saint has done so much for me, how could I be difficult?
Mary Elizabeth wished me well, and told me to call her tomorrow, a secret smile on her face, as if she thought we were going home to have sex or something.
Saint flicks the kitchen light on and closes the door behind us. “Did you bring any dresses with you?”
I frown. “A couple, why?”
“Go put on a pretty one. I’m taking you somewhere.”
I smile big. “Really?” Yay! My birthday’s not over.
“Yep. Hurry up. I don’t want to be late.”
“Late for what?”
“You’ll find out.”
“It’s a surprise?” I practically squeal, not able to contain my joy.
“Yeah, shortcake, it’s a surprise. Now hurry up.”
In fifteen minutes flat, I’m standing in front of the mirror, putting some gloss on my lips. I scan my figure, turning to see the back. I’ve got on a black dress that fits like a glove with little straps and a straight skirt that falls just above my knee. I slip on my strappy high heels that make my legs look great. I pin my hair up on my head in a twist; exposing the tan I got out on the lake today in my skimpy little strapless red bikini.
I smile, thinking back to the way Saint’s mouth dropped open when he saw me in it. If we hadn’t already been out in the middle of the lake when I pulled my shirt over my head and wiggled out of my cutoff shorts, he probably would have made me go change. As it was, he couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off me the rest of the day.
I check the mirror again, and since it is my birthday, I add something special. I pull the suitcase from under the bed and retrieve the jewelry box. I scan the items, and choose my mother’s diamond necklace. It has a continuous row of diamonds that encircles my neck with a total of over fifteen carats of quality diamonds. My mother once told me it was worth over ninety thousand dollars. I always loved it, and she once told me she intended me to have it on my eighteenth birthday.
I fasten it at my nape and stare in the mirror, touching it reverently, and for a moment its almost like she’s here with me. I miss you mom.
I shove the box back in my suitcase and under the bed, then dash out; not wanting us to be late for whatever Saint has planned.
He’s standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his phone in his hand, texting. He’s in a pair of dark jeans and a white button-up shirt that looks sexy as hell against his tanned skin and all that ink. A heavy silver chain bracelet is around one wrist, and a big black watch on the other. They suit him.
He’s got his biker boots on, and I’m glad he didn’t add some preppy loafers, because the boots look hot on him.
I spin around. “This okay?”
He looks up and his gaze sweeps over me, and the phone slowly lowers. “You look stunning.”
I smile and move to him. He grabs me in his arms, pulling me against him and the smell of some amazing cologne hits my nose. “I didn’t know bikers wore cologne.”
He grins. “I don’t usually. But since it’s my wife’s birthday, and all.”
“I like it.”
“Glad to hear it.” His hand lifts my necklace, and he brushes his fingertips over it. “This is pretty.”
“It was my mother’s. She wanted me to have it when I turned eighteen.”
“Well, then you shouldn’t take it off, that way you always keep her close.”
His words make my eyes tear up.
“Let’s go.” He grabs a jacket off a chair and shrugs into it. Then puts a hand on the small of my back and ushers me out to his truck.
Forty-five minutes later, we pull down an alley in North Atlanta, and stop at a black unmarked door. I cock a brow. “Is this a rave?”
“Nope.”
He comes around and helps me out of the truck.
“Where are we?”
“You’ll see.” He takes my hand and leads me to the door, pausing to pound his fist on it. A moment later, an older gentleman in a suit opens the door, letting us in.
“Thanks, Gus.”
The man smiles at me and extends his arm. “Right this way, Miss.”
I follow him down a cluttered back hall until we come to a red velvet curtain. He pushes it aside and we walk into a dimly lit room.
I’d stop, but Saint’s palm is on the small of my back, guiding me forward.
“If you’ll follow me,” the man says, leading us to the left. I see ghostly shadows of big hulking forms, but there’s not enough light to see. We move through another door into some type of show room with floor to ceiling windows.
Gus flips the lights on, and a room full of grand pianos comes into view. The place is modern with fabulous lighting like the best art gallery. A small pin spot illuminated the piano in the center of the room where a dozen roses sit in a vase.
Gus lifts his arm to the centerpiece, which is a beautiful black Steinway. “Stay as long as you like.” He passes the keys to Saint. “Lock up when you’re through.”
Saint pulls an envelope from his jacket and holds it out. “Thanks, Gus.”
The man takes it. “My pleasure. Goodnight.”
Gus leaves, closing the door behind him. I stare at Saint, opened-mouthed. “You did all this for me?”
“Happy birthday, Kami. You can play as long as you want.” He lifts his chin toward the Steinway. “Go on.”
I smile huge and fling myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he whispers with his mouth at my ear, and I feel his hands at my waist, pushing me back. He stares into my eyes. “Now play me something.”
I move to the bench and sit, lightly running my fingertips over the ivory keys. The Steinway is exquisite, and I give the keys a little run through to get the feel of them. Finally, I close my eyes and begin to play. I let the music roll through my body, naturally flowing out my fingers the way a typist just thinks a word and her fingers type it by instinct. I think the music, I feel the music, and it flows from my fingertips.
***
Saint—
I stand, transfixed as Kami plays the soft, beautiful music. The piece she chose is light and airy, and has such a calming effect on me—just like she has on me. It’s peaceful and good, and everything that’s right in the world, all wrapped up in that gentle, sweet sound.
I smile, soaking it all in as her graceful hands move over the keys. She’s completely focused on the notes, and lost in the music. It’s taken her away to somewhere else, and I love that I’m able to give that to her, if only for a few hours.
I sit on a bench and get lost in the sounds. I can’t get enough of looking at her. She’s beautiful, sitting there, doing what she loves most, and I’m jealous of the way she loves it. I’m suddenly jealous of a fucking piano, and the happiness it gives her. I want to give her that kind of happiness, and it makes me sad to know I’ll never be the one to do it. I can’t be. I can’t be what she needs, and that’s clear now more than ever.
She’s everything soft and beautiful and good, and I’m everything hard and ugly and bad. How could we possibly ever mesh together? But we do, a voice whispers in my head. We do mesh together into something amazing. I feel it in my bones, and know without a doubt we could be great together sexually. But what could I give her beyond that?
She deserves so much more. She deserves everything.
She ends the song and looks over at me, smiling. “That was ‘River Flows in You’ by Yiruma. He’s my favorite composer.”
“It was beautiful. Play some more.”
She does, and I listen for another hour. She looks over at me.
“One last song, and then we can go, okay?”
“We can stay all night if you want.” And in that moment I mean it—I want to give this girl anything she wants. I can deny her nothing, I realize, and that’s a bad place for a man like me to be, because I know I’ll fail her. How can I not, being at the beck and call of the club?
This last song changes in mood. It’s much more serious and contemplative. The notes touch me in a deeper way than the others. Its emotional, and it makes me lean in and pay attention. I’m captivated.
I can see it effects Kami as well. Her eyes are glazed with unshed tears as she finishes the last solemn notes, repeating them over several times, and it emphasizes the refrain until its burned into my soul.
Her hands still, and she turns to look at me.
“What was that called?” I can’t help asking.
“‘Love Me’.” She holds my eyes with hers when she replies. It may only be the title to a beautiful piece of music, but I can’t help responding.
“I already do, sweetheart.”
With that her tears spill over.
I stand and move to her. She rises, closing the top, and I take her in my arms and hold her.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “No one’s ever done something like this for me.”
I pull back and take her seat, pushing the bench back, giving us room, then take her slender waist in my hands and position her between my spread knees, facing me.
“Remember that piano scene in Pretty Woman?” I stare up at her.
She nods, and her lids drop and her mouth opens.
I smile, and lift her up onto the top of the piano. “Lie back.”
She does as I say, and I push her dress up to her hips. I drag her lacy panties down her legs, pulling them free of those sexy heels and shoving them in my pocket. I position her legs over my shoulders, and drag a thumb gently over the seam of her pussy. Her back arches at my first touch. “So pretty, baby.”
Then I lean in, my mouth comes down on her, and I give my girl what she needs.
She undulates, her hips lifting to meet my mouth, my every stroke. Soon she’s dripping wet, and I slip two fingers inside her. I stroke her clit with my thumb as I find that little trigger spot that has her calling out.
“Oh, God.”
“You like that.”
Her breath is pantin
g now. “Yes, yes.”
I keep at her, giving her no respite until she’s about to explode. Then I drop my mouth to her and suck on her clit. She comes hard, and I lap up every drop.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Kami—
I set the vase of roses down on the table and turn. “Thank you for tonight. It meant a lot.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Come here.” I take his hand and pull him to the bedroom. He stops me at the door.
“This probably isn’t a good idea.”
“I’m eighteen now, and your wife.”
“Babe, don’t go thinking you can turn me into the good person you think you see underneath,” he warns.
“I know exactly who you are.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. You are that good person, Saint.”
He cups my cheek. “It’s sweet you believe that. You look at the world and see good.”
“I’ve recently seen the ugly, too. I think I know the difference when I see it now.”
His thumb strokes my skin. “I wish I was the man you think I am, the man you need.” He moves back, but I grab his belt buckle and pull him against me. I cup his face and kiss him, letting him see how I feel. I meet his gaze. “If you walk out now, you’ll never know what we could be. Stay. Please.”
He takes me in his arms and we kiss again. He’s gentle, searching, seeking. Then pulls back to stare into my eyes. “You sure?”
I nod, never more sure of anything in my life.
I feel his hands on my waist slide to my hips and his fists bunch a handful of fabric, then he’s dragging my dress up and over my head. And with a whoosh, I’m standing there naked except for the black strappy heels and the sparkling necklace. He backs me to the bed.
“Lie back, angel.”
I do, staring up at the heat in his dark eyes.
I watch him take my foot in his hands and slowly remove my heel. I lie there, unmoving, entranced by his strong hands.