“It’s beautiful,” I said.
“Nothing quite like a sunset from this height.”
He pointed the helicopter toward the east end of Long Island and flew. It was only about a five-minute ride until we reached the tip of the island, at the village of Montauk. We touched down at a small, private airfield and were soon back on our feet.
“The place is only a short walk from here,” said Justin. “Come on.”
Basket and wine in hand, he led me off the airfield and down to the eastern shore of the village. The lighthouse at the end of the island cast a thick beam of light out onto the ocean, the spotlight illuminating white crests of waves.
“How does a beachfront dinner work for you?” he asked.
“Works perfectly,” I said.
He opened up the basket and took out a blanket, unfolding it onto the sand. I took a seat as Justin unpacked the food.
“Went with some Italian today,” he said. “Thought it’d be good with the wine.”
“I love it.”
My heart soared as he got our dinners ready. I couldn’t get over how thoughtful and sweet it was. I’d never had a man treat me like this before.
“How is it?” asked Justin before taking a sip of his wine.
“So amazing,” I said. “You’ve…you’ve really gone all out for me this weekend.”
“I’m only in it for the duck wine,” he said with a smirk. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
I laughed. “Jerk,” I said, playfully hitting him on the arm. I took a bite of my primavera, letting the flavors play on my tongue before swallowing.
“I thought about heading back into town again,” Justin said. “But I figure when you live in New York, you’ve got to take your quiet time when you can get it.”
“Very good call,” I said.
We worked through our dinners, finishing the meals with two big servings of tiramisu. Once we were done, I sat back on my elbows.
“I’m the perfect amount of full,” I said. “Not too much, but not hungry for more.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, sitting back next to me.
We said nothing for a time, instead watching the tide come in, listening to the soft hush of it crashing on the shore. The moon was a silver coin overhead, its sheen reflected on the water.
I glanced over to see that Justin was close to me, very close. His eyes were fixed forward, but he was close enough that I could feel his warmth, smell his scent.
I wanted him to kiss me. I knew that this was a platonic weekend away, only a “thank you” for my work on the show. But I didn’t care anymore—I wanted him, and I wanted him badly. All I could think about was if he felt the same way.
Then, Justin turned his head. We were even closer now, our lips mere inches apart. I could feel the heat grow between us, that wonderful tension that builds and builds right before a kiss. I closed my eyes, waiting for it.
But it never came.
Suddenly, Justin sprang to his feet.
“We…need to get going,” he said. “Not a good idea to be flying when it’s dark out. Come on.”
Disappointment hit me like a truck. I’d been so certain that he shared my attraction in that moment, but I guessed I was wrong.
Wordlessly, we gathered up everything, and soon made our way back to the helicopter and the vineyard. The view was as incredible as we soared, the glow of New York visible off in the distance.
But I couldn’t help but feel like there was some new tension between us, and not the good kind. Had he gotten the impression that I’d wanted him, only for him to decide that he didn’t want me back?
Something was on his mind, something making him silent and distant.
I worried I’d blown it, that I’d taken a fun weekend and screwed it all up with my obvious advances.
We were soon at the vineyard, the walk back up to our rooms as silent as the trip back from Montauk.
When I reached my door and took out my keycard, I glanced over at Justin.
“Thanks again,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said, his tone quiet. “No problem. Have a good night.”
I stepped into my room and shut the door, a mixture of sadness and disappointment whirling inside of me. I plopped down onto the bed, mad at myself for what I’d done, how I’d made my desires so obvious.
Before I could stew in my frustration for too long, however, a knock sounded at the door. Confused, I got up and answered it.
It was Justin.
“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”
His answer came in the form of a sudden, passionate kiss.
Chapter 20
Heather
I took my lips from Justin’s, a look of total shock on my face.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“What I’ve been wanting to do all weekend,” he said. “You have no idea how hard it’s been to be with you and not kiss you. I’ve been losing my mind.”
It was flattering to hear, to say the least. And it was what I wanted, too. Hell, it had been what I was hoping he’d do since we got to the beach.
Now that it was real, however, it was too much to process. Emotions swirled in me, and I didn’t know what to do, what to say, what to think.
He stepped into my room, placing his hands on my hips. Something like electricity crackled through me at his touch. It was irresistible.
“If you want me to go, I’ll go,” he said. “But I’d be kicking myself if I hadn’t done that.”
I said nothing, instead biting down on my bottom lip in anticipation and tension.
“So tell me,” he said. “I’ve made myself clear—now tell me what you want.”
“I want…I want you.”
And damned if it wasn’t true.
That was all he needed to hear. Justin closed the distance between the two of us, kissing me hard on the lips as he shut the door behind him. His hands ran over my body, and mine over his. Between the wine and the passion, I was some new, unknown kind of intoxicated. All I could think about was how much I craved his kiss and his touch.
We made our way over to the bed, our lips never separating. On the way there our hands went to work, releasing one another from our clothes. I quickly undid the buttons of his shirt, exposing more and more of his sculpted chest and abs. The man had the body of a god, and I wanted to drink in the sight of him.
Justin soon had me in nothing but the lacy, light blue bra and panties I wore underneath my dress. Any insecurity about my post-pregnancy body was long gone—something about the way Justin desired me made me feel like the sexiest woman alive.
He slipped his hand behind my back and laid me down on the bed, his gorgeous eyes fixed on mine.
I took in a deep breath, my breasts heaving against my bra. I wanted Justin so badly I could hardly stand it.
And, judging by the way his erection strained against his pants, the feeling was more than mutual.
Justin climbed on top of me, his manhood grazing against my sex through my panties. I moaned, biting my lip hard.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice a passion-filled growl.
“I want you. I want you so much.”
He responded by reaching around and undoing my bra, my breasts spreading slightly across my chest, my nipples solid and stiff. He leaned down and took one into his mouth, then the other. He knew exactly how to touch me, exactly how to make me feel good.
His desire was palpable. I could sense that he craved me, that he was losing his mind for me just as I was for him.
Another moan sounded from him as he caressed my breasts. Then, his hands moved down to my waist. Effortlessly, he flipped me over onto my stomach. He wanted to take me with animal fervor—I could tell.
And I wanted him to.
I stuck my rear out toward him, inviting him. Justin placed his hands on my hips, squeezing the soft, warm skin, his touch like heaven. Slowly, he peeled my panties down my legs, the air cool on my now-hot sex.
I glanced back from my position on my hands and knees to see Justin quickly working his zipper and belt buckle. He was out of his clothes so fast I couldn’t believe it. Placing one hand on the small of my back, he took his member into his hand and dragged the end against me, teasing me.
I pressed my behind against him, urging him with my body to enter me. He didn’t waste any more time. I watched him take hold of his member once again and slowly, so slowly, penetrate me.
The feeling was so intense that my arms nearly gave out from under me. Inch by inch he entered me, filling me full. I let out a long, pleasured moan as he buried himself to the hilt, my body shaking with tension.
“You feel…you feel so perfect inside of me,” I said, my voice quivering. Almost like he was made for me. It was the same thought I’d had when we slept together before. When it happened then—this feeling of almost unbearable physical compatibility—I wanted to write it off as a fluke. But now here it was again, and all I could do was prepare for the onslaught of pleasure.
His hands taking my hips firmly into his grip, Justin began to move in and out of me at a slow, steady pace, soft grunts sounding from him as he did.
I savored it all—the scent of his body, the sounds of him filling me up, and the feeling of his manhood in me and his hands all over my body. It was almost too much to bear.
It wasn’t long before I needed more. I arched my back and pushed into him, begging him with my body to go harder and faster.
And that’s exactly what he did.
Justin entered me over and over at a driving pace, his hips slapping against my rear with each full push into my sex. An orgasm began to form inside of me, and I wanted it to explode.
“Oh God,” I moaned. “Don’t stop. I’m getting… I’m so close.”
I could tell by his deep, throaty grunts that Justin was too. I wanted him to finish, I wanted to make him feel as good as he was making me.
In the middle of a deep series of thrusts, I came, hard. My arms finally collapsed underneath me, my face falling into the pillow and muffling my moans as Justin unloaded himself with a hard grunt.
I stayed in that position, my face in the pillow and my backside in the air, as I caught my breath. Justin fell forward next to me, then wrapped his arm around me and brought me close to him, my head coming to rest on his warm, solid chest.
It was right where I wanted to be. I closed my eyes, still wrapped up in orgasmic bliss, and soon fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter 21
Heather
A Week Later
I wasn’t sure why, but I was a tad nervous as the elevator rose up to Justin’s penthouse. Maybe it was because of this being our first actual, official date since last weekend, since we’d decided to give this relationship thing a go. Maybe because I was worried about Faye, like I always was when I left her with a sitter. Maybe it was because Justin was about the most perfect man I’d ever met, and part of me was convinced that this was all a dream.
Maybe it was all of these things, all working together to tie my stomach up into a small, hard knot.
The elevator doors opened with a gentle “ding,” revealing Justin’s massive penthouse apartment. The place looked bigger than I remembered from the shoot—probably due to it not being filled with crew and equipment.
Justin stood leaning against his kitchen bar, his demeanor the picture of effortless cool. He was dressed in another one of his button-up-shirt-slacks outfits, the shirt a crisp white and the pants a dark blue.
“Hey,” he said, that slightly cocky smile on his face that I was starting to fall hard for. “Welcome.”
I stepped into the room, noting the soft jazz music playing on the stereo. It reminded me of the music at the speakeasy club we went to the night we met, and I wondered if that was deliberate.
“Hey,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear on my right side. I noticed there were delicious smells in the air—simmering butter, cooking meat, and steaming vegetables. I breathed in deeply, letting the scents play on my senses. “I smell dinner,” I said.
“And it smells good?” Justin asked.
“Smells amazing.”
“I have to admit,” he said, stepping toward a small glass tray of liquor bottles and glasses. “I’m not the best cook in the city. But I can make a mean steak. So I hope you’re the carnivorous type.”
“I am,” I said. “And I know you are.”
I flashed him a playful smile, letting him know that the subtext was most certainly intended.
“Something to drink?” he asked.
“Um, a vodka tonic would be perfect,” I said. “With a lemon twist.”
“That I can do.”
He set to work on the drink, making a whiskey on the rocks for himself. I approached him as he prepared them, closing my eyes and taking a slow, secret whiff of his scent.
I loved the way he smelled. I wasn’t sure if it was cologne or his natural musk or what, but I couldn’t get enough.
“Want to have these on the balcony?” he asked. “Nice night, nice view.”
“Let’s do it.”
He handed me my drink, and we headed outside. Just as he said, the view was amazing, and the weather was perfectly mild. We were getting into late summer and had yet to have a chilly day. I resolved to savor perfect evenings like this while they lasted.
I sipped my drink as I leaned over the balcony, taking in the sight of the city below. We had to be about two-dozen stories up, and the city looked so small from this height.
“When you’re up this high, New York actually looks kind of peaceful,” I said.
“You’re right about that,” he said. “No blaring car horns, no people yelling at each other, no ambulances screaming down the road.”
“Oh my God,” I said. “The ambulances. I’ve lived here my whole life, and I still haven’t gotten used to how loud they are.”
We both chuckled. When our laughter died down, I stood up on my tip-toes and planted a soft kiss on his gorgeous lips.
“It’s good to see you,” I said.
“You too,” he said, putting his arm around me.
I leaned in and rested my head against his chest, the fabric of his shirt cool and soft. It felt so good that I didn’t want to move. But I took my head away, stealing one more kiss before turning my attention back to the roads below.
“How’s Faye?” he asked.
“Great,” I said. “She’s with my friend Julia tonight. She’s got a kid about Faye’s age, so they’re perfect playdate partners.”
“Awesome,” he said. “Is Julia a…”
He let his voice trail off, then an expression appeared on his face that suggested he realized he’d asked a somewhat personal question.
Or, at least, brought attention to a sensitive subject.
“No,” I said. “She’s not a single mom. Her man stuck around.”
He shook his head.
“I still can’t believe you got ditched like that,” he said. “Guy’s freaking scum. Sorry if I’m speaking out of turn.”
“You’re not,” I said. “You can call him a jerk all you want—I’ll agree with you all the way.”
Justin looked away for a moment, as if trying to decide if he really wanted to say what he had on his mind.
“Can I…can I ask what happened between the two of you?” he asked. “Or is that too personal?”
Normally, talking about Brad and me would be too personal of a subject. But with Justin right now, I felt…different. I felt like I could talk to him about anything.
“Sure,” I said. “It’s not much of a story though, I’m afraid. His name was Brad, and we’d been together for a couple of years. Met back at work not long after I started there. He was barely anywhere on the ladder, some low-level guy that I fell hard for.
“Things…seemed great. We hit it off right away, both of us moving up in the company at the same time. Eventually, he made a lateral
move to this company based in Jersey, which meant he was making more money, but had a terrible commute. But we were dedicated to making it work.”
“Then you got pregnant.”
“Then I got pregnant, yeah. I was scared and excited and thrilled when I found out—mostly scared. But I had a great boyfriend, right? I was thinking that he’d be happy too.”
“And how’d he take it?”
“To start with, great. He seemed as excited as I was. But almost immediately I started to get the impression that something was…off. He spent more time at work and was distant when he was with me. I asked, and he said he was focusing on working, making sure we’d have enough money to raise the baby. And I noticed he never mentioned marriage. I mean, I’m not one of those women who’s desperate to get married, but it seemed like the next logical step, right?”
“Right.”
I couldn’t believe how open I was being about this. Aside from Julia and my parents, no one else had gotten the full story of Faye’s dad.
“Then one day, a few weeks after I told him I was pregnant, he never came home from work. I was nervous at first, worried that he’d gotten into an accident or something terrible like that. Then later that night, I found a note on the bed. Brad had written that he couldn’t do it, that he couldn’t be a dad. Said he didn’t ‘have it in him,’ whatever that meant.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?” asked Justin. “Left with just a note?”
“Mhmm,” I said. “Changed his number, left no forwarding address—nothing.”
“You ever find out what happened to him?”
“Yep. At first I wanted to pretend that he didn’t exist, but eventually, my curiosity got the better of me. Turns out that he shacked up with some girl from his office—one who wasn’t a mom, and wasn’t pregnant, of course. And that was that.”
Justin shook his head in total disbelief.
I continued. “I was left alone, pregnant and without a partner or any financial help.”
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