by Marni Mann
When he glanced at me from the stove, I didn’t hold my breath.
I just wasn’t able to breathe.
“Please.”
It was only one word.
But I felt it everywhere.
“Wow.” I set down my fork, literally unable to put another bite in my mouth. “That was amazing.”
“You look surprised.” He was smiling, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
I’d opted for us to sit at a high-top table on the corner of his balcony instead of the dining room he had originally chosen for us. Once he’d turned on the heat lamp, neither of us could feel the wind outside. The setup couldn’t be more spectacular. And I appreciated that he wasn’t sitting far away, so I could take in even the smallest details despite already knowing them so well.
“I am, admittedly,” I told him, looking down at my plate where there was a tiny amount of food left. “Just because you eat well and enjoy good cuisine doesn’t mean you know your way around a kitchen.” I giggled as I thought about Ally’s ability to burn almost everything. “But you do, and this dinner was positively excellent.”
He’d paired the portobello risotto with seared scallops and roasted eggplant and green beans. I’d eaten almost the entire serving he’d plated. The fact that I’d gotten so much down made me incredibly happy.
But it went far deeper than that because it was a meal Jared had cooked just for me.
Maybe the walls inside his condo were missing pictures of him and his friends, the surfaces lacking personal artifacts that would show me a side I hadn’t seen yet. But what he’d made in his kitchen was something I wouldn’t be able to feel from a photograph, and that meant more to me than anything.
“Thank you.” He lifted his glass of wine and brought it to his mouth.
“It’s beautiful here.” I glanced across the balcony where there were several couches and a TV. “Is this your only home, or do you have others?”
We’d never discussed money. I’d always just assumed he was successful, but that hadn’t been confirmed until today.
I loved that.
Humbleness was so rare nowadays.
“I have a house in Aspen.”
I took a drink of my wine. “I’ve never skied out west.”
“No?”
I shook my head. “Just all over New England.” When his smile started to grow and didn’t fall, I added, “I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say, and my answer is still no.”
He bit his lip. “I tried.”
Even though he was now glancing toward the night sky, I continued to look at him, trying to read his expression, understanding the mystery behind those dark eyes.
“I have to ask you a question.” I waited for him to look at me again before I said, “Your company obviously does extremely well, and I have to assume a business of your size has a jet.”
His face didn’t change. His gaze didn’t even intensify.
“I guess what I’m asking is, why weren’t you on your own plane that day?”
I hadn’t realized the question would be so hard. That the answer might change everything, and I didn’t like the thought of it at all.
Still clutching his wine, he turned the stem in his hand, staring at the burgundy waves before looking back at me. “The company jet wasn’t available.” He put the drink down, his hand going to my thigh, his thumb brushing across the center of it. “First-class was sold out, and seat 14B was the only one left with extra leg room.”
I put my hand on top of his, locking my fingers in place. “I’m so grateful for that.”
Fifty-One
Jared
My eyes flicked open just like they had in college when I heard someone’s hand touch my doorknob. The same way they had at my first few apartments before I could afford a building like the one I lived in now. The second someone was in my space, an alarm went off in my head.
It was what made me perfect for my job.
What surprised me tonight was that I had fallen asleep. I hadn’t thought that would happen while Billie was here. I never brought women to my home. But when we had finally gotten in my bed, after a long dinner and more wine by the fireplace and sex on the floor in front of it, I had been so tired.
Billie Paige made me sleep.
A concept that was about as fucked as having her here.
Except she wasn’t exactly here—at least, not in my bed. I knew that the minute I was awake without having to reach across the mattress. Her absence was one of the reasons I had woken in the first place.
I sat up a few inches and adjusted the pillow, seeing the door to the bathroom was open and the light was off. She wasn’t in here, so I reached for the tablet on the nightstand. I immediately spotted her on the feed. She had put on the button-down I’d been wearing earlier and was walking down the hallway, away from my bedroom. Her feet were bare, her long, dark hair bouncing over the back of the light-blue shirt.
When she reached the first doorway, she paused. It was my home office, and she flipped on the light. She didn’t move from the entryway; she just leaned her shoulder into the frame and looked inside. There was a diploma on the wall along with several achievements and framed articles on Morgan Security. In the center was a desk with multiple drawers, holding papers I couldn’t let her read.
After a few seconds, still frozen in the same spot, she turned off the light and kept moving down the hall.
The desk was locked. I wasn’t an amateur. But the fact that she hadn’t even gone inside my office became one of the sexiest things about her.
As she went to the kitchen, I slid out of bed and put on a pair of boxer briefs, following the sound of her. When I arrived, she was standing in front of the open fridge, weight shifting between both feet.
“Let me help,” I said as I got closer, knowing she still hadn’t heard me. She didn’t have a chance to turn around before I had an arm wrapped around her navel, my face into her neck. “Mmm, you smell good.”
The buttercream was so strong on her collarbone, and that was what I was craving. I quickly turned her around, my hands going to her ass, and I lifted her onto the island. Leaving her there for just a second, I grabbed the dessert and brought it over to her. I cut the string that held it together and lifted the flaps of the box.
Cookies. Several different kinds, and I knew what would go perfect with them.
“Excellent choice,” I told her as I found a spoon and some vanilla ice cream.
“That’s rainbow chip.” She was staring at the one in my hand.
With the pint open, I scooped some onto the middle of the cookie and held it out to her. Instead of taking it from my hand, she ducked down and surrounded the edge with her lips.
She had no makeup on. It had all washed off in the shower when I carried her there after we had sex by the fire. Her hair had dried messy.
She had never looked more gorgeous.
While she chewed, I got closer, brushing my mouth across hers, and then I licked the spot where we had touched. A hint of vanilla teased my tongue.
I took out a cookie that looked like a mix of Oreo and chocolate chip, added ice cream, and extended it in the same direction as before.
Her mouth opened again, and with her eyes not leaving mine, she took a bite.
It was so fucking good to see her eat without hesitation. To chew and swallow without looking like she was forcing it down.
“Billie …” I growled as her gaze deepened, setting the cookie down.
My hands returned to her ass, and I pulled her to the very edge where she was straddling the counter. I stood directly in front of her, and I unbuttoned the four buttons keeping her shirt closed, watching it fall open.
“So fucking beautiful.” I cupped her tits, thumbs grazing her hardened nipples. “Do you want me to kiss you, Billie?”
Her reaction was slow but clear.
“Where?”
Earlier tonight, I had been selfish. I didn’t kiss all the spots on her body that she needed. And e
ven though she had come several times, I hadn’t taken it slow.
Now, I would.
Her hand lifted from the counter, landing on her navel, lowering until it stopped between her legs. “Here.”
“Exactly what I wanted,” I replied, and that was where I put my lips, sucking her clit into my mouth.
Her toes were bent around the ledge of the stone, and she was glancing down her thighs, a stare that wasn’t moving from mine. So, while she watched me lick her back and forth, I gave her two of my fingers, driving them into her, curving them up to reach that spot that would make her scream.
It didn’t take long before that happened.
Within a few turns of my wrist, using harder pressure with my tongue, I felt her start to contract.
She clasped my hair, tugging it from the roots as she shouted, “Jared!”
Her stomach shuddered, and I continued to lick, bringing her straight through the build and far past it. And when I knew her body had turned so sensitive, I raised and circled her legs around my waist. My tip pushed through my boxer briefs, positioning me perfectly.
I grabbed her face with both hands, holding her while I kissed her. I could feel the pleasure still spreading through her as each of her breaths continued to end in a moan.
When I finally pulled back, I kept my fingers in place and took in her eyes. “Is there a reason I need to use a condom?”
I’d put one on earlier, but if I didn’t have to leave her right now, I didn’t want to.
“No.”
I gave her the same assurance. Then, I dropped my boxers and immediately sank into her warmth. “Goddamn it,” I hissed, her tightness and wetness fucking swallowing me.
My hands dropped, and I pinched her nipples on my way to her ass where I dug into her cheek. The other hand went to her clit, which I rubbed while I shifted my hips back and forth.
She clung to my shoulders, breathing into my neck, her legs gripping me so hard that I could lift her right off the counter.
“Oh my God,” she groaned, her head falling back.
She began to move with me, using her arms to rock her body. I met her in the middle, grinding my fingers simultaneously so she could feel the combination of both sensations.
Breaths were fucking pounding through my lips as she got wetter, and after each thrust, she got louder. Her clit was hardening, and I knew she was so close.
Her nails stabbed my skin as I felt a pulsing inside her, and knowing she was losing herself, I let go.
We were lost at the same time, and I moaned, “Billie,” again and again while streams shot from my body.
She bucked her hips, emptying me to the point where I grabbed her and held her so tightly. My face went to the side of her breast where I caught my breath. I felt her heart pound beneath me, her chest heaving. Her hands went from grasping my hair to running through it.
I just took it in.
Every moment.
And when I eventually looked up, I stared into her eyes and said, “Come to bed with me?”
A smile slowly crept across her lips. “I would love to.”
Fifty-Two
Honey
Winter 1986
“Turn it off,” Honey whispered when Andrew came into the doorway of the bathroom and flipped on the light.
He had just arrived home from Logan Airport after a three-day conference in Atlanta. Honey was supposed to be excited to see him.
She wasn’t.
“Turn it off?” he asked, ignoring her request.
As he came inside the bathroom, she lifted her arm, shielding herself from the brightness of the light. It didn’t make the toilet seat any more comfortable, the spot where she’d been resting her face for most of the day.
Her skin reeked of vomit, and the movement sent her that smell, causing her to gag. She was hoping nothing would come out.
This time, it was just spit.
Still, it hurt.
It all hurt.
“Baby,” Andrew said, now kneeling at Honey’s side, “are you all right? Is this just morning sickness?”
When it was too painful to hold her head up, she would rest it on the seat like she was doing now, alternating the positions so the ceramic would eventually cool down her face again. She could only stand one way for so long before the rottenness returned, and then she would be open-mouthed and throwing up.
Her eyes were burning even though she couldn’t see the light. “No.”
“Is it the flu?” His hand was on her back, but he moved it to her forehead and then the side of her neck. “You’re not running a temperature.” He turned her face, lifting her arm away, opening her eyelids. “Swollen and red but clear.” His gaze deepened. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
His hand dropped down, and when it reached her belly, she slapped it away. Then, she leaned into the bowl, and bile began to come through her lips.
Andrew held the hair out of his wife’s face, and with the softest voice, he said, “It’ll subside once we put something in your stomach. The reason you’re so nauseous is—”
“No.” Her face was now resting on the ceramic seat, but she turned her head to look at him.
The back of her throat burned; her tongue felt almost too thick to speak. During each breath, Andrew would rub a circle over Honey’s back, every arch of his fingers making her feel queasier.
“Andrew …” The tears were taking ahold of her now, and she felt them move past her chest and into her stomach. “It’s gone.” Her hand went over her mouth right before she choked out a sob.
He searched her eyes, clasping her cheek. “No, baby. Not from throwing up. It can’t happen that way.”
It felt like Honey’s chest was cracking down the center. Seeing his eyes made the breaking of her skin hurt even worse.
“It didn’t happen from throwing up, Andrew.”
Pain shot across his face as fast as a bullet.
Honey didn’t just see it; she felt it.
And when it hit, it felt the same way as when she had been in the doctor’s office this morning.
He still rubbed, but his circles came harder and faster. “I’m sure it was just spotting. There’s no reason to panic.”
“Andrew …” Honey gasped, the burning in her mouth becoming too much. “Dr. Katz confirmed it.”
Suddenly, there was stillness.
“My love,” he said so softly, and his head dropped.
Honey wanted to cry out with the loudest wail, but she kept it in, and her body shook from it.
“Why didn’t you call me, baby?” His fingers moved to the back of her head.
“You were at the airport.”
He gently lifted her away from the toilet and pulled her into his arms, holding her against his body while he swayed back and forth.
“I was walking,” she whispered, her face hidden between his shoulder and neck. “Just getting outside for some fresh air.” She’d told the story to Dr. Katz because she needed to know if she had done something wrong. Now, she was telling her husband because she wanted him to know how her body had failed them once again. “Something felt wrong.” She shook her head in the little space she had. “Like I had wet myself …” She held him so tightly; she knew she was making him tremble. But she had to go on, and this was the way she had to do it. “I was a block from Dr. Katz’s office. I went there.” She wanted so badly to look at her husband, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She couldn’t see his eyes at the same time she felt the emptiness in her stomach. “And that’s when she told me … I’d miscarried, and I had a D and C.”
She didn’t say anything to Andrew about the after. The part where her clothes had been too bloody to wear home and the nurses had helped her cover in several dressing gowns and one had driven her to their condo. How she had taken a shower and watched the white tub turn pink.
She said nothing about returning to the bathroom floor, a place she knew all too well, a corner where she’d rocked for many, many months.
“I love you.�
�
She rubbed her eyes over him, feeling the fabric of his shirt become soaked.
“We’re going to get through this.”
The nurses and doctor had told her miscarriages were common.
But to Honey, it was just a reminder that her body couldn’t have a baby.
“I promise.”
That was the last thing he said to her that night.
It was also the first time she ever doubted him.
Fifty-Three
Billie
The ringing of my phone was what woke me up out of a dead sleep. I rolled away from Jared, making sure the sound was the one I had programmed specifically for my father, and when I heard it again, I got up. I followed the noise until I found my phone several feet away on the floor.
“Hi, Dad,” I whispered, holding my cell against my ear. “Is everything okay?” I didn’t want to wake Jared, so I tiptoed into his bathroom and shut the door behind me.
“Sweetheart, it’s eleven in the morning. Why wouldn’t everything be okay?”
Eleven?
I pressed the button for the Home screen where it showed the time and saw that he was right.
Jared had lowered his blackout shades before we went to bed, but I never thought I’d ever sleep this late again. Not when, most mornings, I was up long before the sun. Eleven was the time my father called every morning when he was on his way home from the gym.
“How’s Peter?” I asked, referring to his trainer.
While my father answered, telling me the latest bit of gossip circulating the gym, I paced between Jared’s shower and toilet. During each trip, I saw my reflection in the mirrors above the sink. Ally would be so proud. I looked freshly fucked. And I certainly was.
“Are you going to be able to come home?”
And then that thought completely drained from my head, the sound of my father’s question causing me to pause in front of the shower.
Home.
“Dad …” I shook my head, holding the handle of the shower door, knowing what he was really asking. He just didn’t need to say all the words. “Of course I’ll be there.”