Holding Aces

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Holding Aces Page 19

by Nikki Groom

Faster.

  Sharper.

  I bring my heels up to dig in his ass, wanting him deeper, pulling him into me. “Yes, Ari,” he pants breathlessly. “Ride it, Stunner. Come with me.” His voice is strained and I feel his body tighten along with mine.

  He moans as he thrusts hard, driving into me, reaching as far as he can go and taking my body with him. He swells and pulses as he comes and my muscles grip and pull him in. The pleasure is pure and explosive as we both come fast, peaking together and letting our bodies experience a deep carnal connection. He seals my mouth with his, swallowing my cries and letting his tongue lave mine until our bodies start to come down from the crescendo.

  We lie entangled with a sheen of sweat covering our bodies and a haze of bliss settling around us as we let our breathing regulate. “Never been so good,” Denham mumbles. He places a lingering kiss on my lips and carefully rolls off me to dispose of the condom, then joins me back in the bed, pulling me tight to him. “You amaze me, you’re amazing.”

  I can’t speak. I feel my bottom lip start to quiver and I know that the minute I open my mouth to say something I’m going to cry. I’m not sad or unhappy. I’m overwhelmed, consumed by the feelings running through me, the experiences I’m having and the fact that I’m so damn happy for the first time in forever.

  I shift in my seat and feel the tender ache between my legs from the previous night and this morning’s activities. Memories invade my senses as I recall things that were firsts for me in so many ways.

  I’m opening my heart; I can actually feel it moving, swelling and breaking free of the bonds I had imposed.

  I’m also opening my mind, no longer shut off to the possibility of being happy, fulfilled and sexually awakened. I have discovered a wild side that I like …

  And I want more.

  I feel the blood start to move a little faster through my veins when I recall the way I was awoken this morning.

  I hear his moans in my ear, feel his breath on my skin and his fingers on my ...

  “Earth to Arianna …”

  I’m at a restaurant having lunch with my mom, thinking about being in bed with the king of my castle. My skin is flush with the thoughts of us getting hot and sweaty this morning and I’m sure my breathing has accelerated.

  Mom waves a hand in front of my eyes. “Arianna, sweetheart, where did your mind wander off to?” she asks in an amused voice.

  “I’m sorry, Mom, what were you saying?”

  “Never mind what I was saying, you want to tell me what or who has you in a dreamy trance?”

  “I was just … ugh, is it that obvious?” I cover my face with my hands. I’m so embarrassed.

  “When you haven’t heard what I’ve said for the last five minutes, then yes, it’s fairly obvious I would say. Were you thinking about Denham?” she asks tentatively.

  “Yes.”

  “You want to talk about him?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Mom.” I sigh. “I just don’t understand how I’m feeling. I don’t understand what’s going on between us. It’s hard to figure out everything else that’s going on in my life, but when I’m with him, it all … it just … it feels right and I don’t know why. I shouldn’t even be letting anyone else near me. Last week I would have been happy to become a nun, live in solitary and never set eyes on another man again. And now he’s come along and ruined everything, except it’s not ruined, I feel … I don’t know, I just don’t know.” I take a deep breath and dramatically throw my head down into my folded arms on the table. I hear my mom trying to contain her laughter. “Mom! This isn’t funny!”

  “Darling, I’m sorry. It’s not a bad dilemma to have … all you need to do is let him l—”

  “Don’t even finish that sentence. I don’t want to hear the L word. It corrupts people’s minds and makes them think they can own you,” I scold bitterly.

  “No, my girl,” she says softly. “Love doesn’t do that to someone, don’t confuse it with greed. Love makes you a better person. It doesn’t make you greedy, in fact, it makes you think less about yourself and more about the person you are in love with. It opens your heart to a world of possibilities.”

  “It also opens your heart to a lifetime of heartbreak if that feeling isn’t reciprocated.” I sound so cynical even to my own ears, but I can only draw on what life has taught me so far. “All I know is that Denham can make me feel like no one ever has. He makes me want to let him in, be there for me, but I don’t know how to convince myself to allow him to do that. I have to try and protect myself. I let my guard down with Aaron, and look what happened. How do I know it’s not going to happen again?”

  “Did you love Aaron?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think you could love Denham?”

  I pause and look her in the eye. “I’ve only known him a week, how is that even possible? I’m not sure I even know how. Maybe I’m not capable …”

  “Of course you’re capable. Look at me. How many frogs did I kiss before I found my prince? It felt different from the very first minute with Brent, but I had to kiss a lot of slimy toads to find him. Maybe you’ve kissed enough frogs and instead of a prince, you’ve found a King …” She lets her thoughts linger in the air quietly while she gets up to go to the restroom.

  Maybe it is my turn. Maybe it’s my time to grab at my chance of happiness. I admit to myself for the first time that I do feel something surprisingly deep for Denham, something I never knew existed. I don’t know if it’s love, but it’s different from anything I’ve ever felt for anyone. I’ve given him my unwavering trust and I don’t regret it one bit. I’ve let my heart’s guard down further than I have with anyone and he hasn’t used it to his advantage. I’ve let him in and I think the thing that scares me the most is that I want it. I want it all. He makes me push away everything that I’ve ever believed true because he’s rewriting my trust. There’s just something stopping me from letting go completely. I can’t lose control. I need to keep hold of the reins for self-preservation.

  “Excuse me, ma’am.”

  I look up from my thoughts to see the waiter standing by the table with a single, long-stemmed red rose between his fingers. He offers it to me with an outstretched hand and I take it reluctantly.

  “I am told to tell you, that you will know who it is from and he just wanted to let you know he was thinking about you,” the waiter offers cryptically.

  “I … uh, thank you,” I stutter. I haven’t spoken to Denham since he left to go to work this morning, so I’m not entirely sure he knows where to find me, although, we are eating in one of the restaurants in his hotel.

  I don’t know how to tell him that I hate roses. I’m used to them being a way of an apology, making up for a misdemeanor of some sort. The flower itself means nothing to me, I don’t take it as a loving symbol, but I love the thought behind it. It makes me smile big to know that he thought enough of me to send it.

  I pull my cell out of my purse and bring his name up to send a thank you text.

  “Ooh, darling, where did the rose come from? It’s very beautiful.” My mom seats herself back at the table and my phone rings before I can compose a message to say thank you to Denham.

  It’s Lottie calling.

  “Well, if it isn’t the queen of Sambuca ...” I answer and chuckle to myself.

  “Ugh … tell me you feel like shit too,” she groans.

  “Nope, fresh as a daisy!” I gloat. I fail to add that I’m exhausted but not through alcohol intake. I’m tired to the bone for reasons far more worthwhile, but I don’t have a hangover.

  “You’re so lucky. I feel like someone swapped my head for something loud and heavy.”

  “Well, that’s because you knocked back a ton of shooters and drank champagne like it was water.”

  “Where are you anyway?” she asks, changing the subject. “I called your room …”

  “I’m having lunch with my mom in La Casa.”

  “HI MOM!” she yells, nearly bursting my eardru
ms. I hold the phone away from my ear in Mom’s direction.

  “Hi, Lottie,” my mom replies, not quite as loud as Lottie but loud enough that neighboring tables turn to look at us.

  “What time will you be back? You have details to fill me in on.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes, don’t even try to deny it. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  I do know exactly what she’s talking about, but I don’t want to share details like a teenage girl who just lost her virginity. I selfishly want to keep every detail to myself. Every last little kiss. The small kisses have as much of an effect on me as the big kisses, maybe more.

  The little tingles that fire through my skin when his lips skim mine …

  “ARI!”

  “What?”

  “You weren’t listening …”

  “Sorry.” I mumble. Oh god, I’ve got it bad. I could try to play my lack of concentration off as not nearly enough sleep, but I’d only be fooling myself. “I don’t know how I possibly thought I could ignore you,” I retort sarcastically.

  “Ha-ha. What time will you get back then?”

  “I’m not sure, can I call you?”

  “You better! Oh, we have outfits to plan too for the ball, and how much discount do you get at your new job?”

  “Lottie, I haven’t even started yet. I can’t go asking for a discount already.”

  “Sure you can. Do you have enough money to pay full price?”

  “That’s not the point. Can’t we rent something?”

  “Oh maybe, we need a whole day to try things on. There’s a theme, you know?”

  “What? Why are you only telling me this after I’ve agreed to go?”

  “Chill, chica. It’s a James Bond theme. They think it makes it more exciting to be 007 rather than calling it black tie. But that’s really what it is.”

  “Okay, fine. Look, I have to go. Mom only has a few hours and I’ve wasted ten minutes talking to you.”

  “Yeah, well that’s ten minutes you’ll never get back.” I hear her snigger. “Call me,” she orders, then hangs up.

  God, I love that girl.

  I toss the phone in my purse and look at the food that arrived while I was talking to Lottie. “Wow, this looks great.” I dig in, suddenly realizing how hungry I am. I stop chewing and look up at my mom who hasn’t even picked up her knife and fork yet. She has tears pooling in her eyes, making them look glossy.

  “Mom?” I question.

  She smiles. It reaches right up through her cheekbones and creases her eyes, and the movement allows a tear to escape and fall down her cheek.

  “I never thought I’d be able to do this.” She gestures around the table. “Just having lunch with my very grown-up daughter, talking about normal stuff and being able to look forward.” She wipes the tear away with the back of her hand. “Oh, look at me getting all silly. Take no notice.”

  I cover her hand with mine. “I know, Mom. I never thought we would be able to do this together either. It’s perfect.”

  “Arianna, I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to think that for once in your adult life you seem to have doors opening all around you.”

  I smile and nod, scared that if I open my mouth to speak, I’m going to let go of the sob that’s pushing its way to the surface. There have been too many tears shed already.

  She straightens in her chair and smoothes the napkin in her lap. “So tell me what Lottie was getting all excited about.”

  We chat for a few hours, normal conversations about normal things. It’s everything I have dreamed about for a long time. I find out that Mom and Brent have a new house, one that I promise to visit in the next couple of weeks to see the renovations they have going on. For now, they are staying in an apartment just outside of the main town so it’s still central for Brent to get to work. His job is obviously going great and I’m so happy that things aren’t just falling in place for me, they are falling in place for her too.

  I tell her all about my new job and don’t miss the excitement in her eyes. I must get some of my passion for clothes from her. Even when we had little money, she liked to look good and would rummage in the local goodwill store to find little hidden treasures. She had an old sewing machine that she would customize things with. It used to drive me mad to hear the constant drone in the background when I wanted to watch one of my favorite programs, but the look on her face when she has finished one of her masterpieces was worth every minute.

  We argue about who gets to pay the bill. Not because neither of us wants to, it’s because both of us try to do it. I leave her at the front of the hotel, where she gets in a cab with a promise to call her within the next couple of days.

  I head to my apartment, rose in hand and a smile on my face.

  I drop my purse on the couch and stand the rose in the water glass that holds the other rose Denham gave me on our first date. My aversion to roses diminishes the more I look at this one. This is prettier than others I’ve seen; more pinkish-red, and fuller petals. I know it’s the person behind the gift that I see every time I look at it, and that alone stands as a lesson. Not all roses have to signify something bad or regretful, just like not all men will treat me like shit.

  I sort some of my clothes, hanging things I hadn’t gotten around to yesterday and killing time, until … well, I’m not really sure. I haven’t had a chance to develop a routine. My down time has been filled with different people, mostly Denham admittedly. I will have a definite routine next week when I start work, which I’m looking forward to, but I’m missing things that I used to do for myself. I crave the independence that I used to have, but over the last few days I feel like I’m gaining more control and direction.

  I’m eating far more than I usually would with everyone taking me out to lunch and dinner and drinking far more than I usually would under Lottie’s influence, so I grab my phone and text Denham.

  Me: Can I please use the gym? Where’s the best place to buy some gym clothes?

  I have a quick flick through my wardrobe, knowing I don’t really have anything suitable other than a couple of tanks, but looking anyway just in case something magically appears.

  My phone dings a couple of minutes later.

  Denham: The gymnasium has a sports outlet, you will find everything you need in there. Take what you need and tell them who you are. xx

  I appreciate the gesture, but I’ll just pay for it myself and not tell them who I am.

  Me: Thank you! See you this evening? x

  Denham: You can bank on it xx

  I throw my cell on the bed while I hunt around for a hair band. It dings again and I snatch it up.

  Denham: You’re going to be getting all hot and sweaty without me. How am I supposed to concentrate? I’m sulking.

  His text makes me laugh. I can just picture those full lips forming a pout. God, he even looks sexy in my mind when he’s pouting.

  Me: You can make me hot and sweaty all over again later ;) xx

  I love being flirtatious with him, and I have no doubt that he will hold me to my words later this evening.

  I grab up my belongings and head downstairs. After picking up some shorts, a sports tank, running shoes and a set of headphones, I head into the gym. I pass one gentleman who is leaving as I enter. He smiles a tight smile and heads off. The gym is now empty. No one at all in sight and although this is great as I can work my way around the machines as I please, there was a part of me that wanted to train in a buzzed, busy room and feel the atmosphere that surrounds it.

  I glance around and survey the equipment. I thought I had top of the range gym equipment at Aaron’s house, but seeing this room, I’m not so sure. Every piece of machinery is pristine. The metal gleams and there is not a fingerprint in sight on the touch screen consoles.

  Mirrors line one wall and cross trainers, treadmills and rowing machines line the other. There is a free weights section on the far side, and other resistance machines dotted around the free spaces. A regula
r beat pushes through the built-in speakers around the ceiling ensuring you have music and a rhythm to work out to wherever you are positioned and all the cardio machines have a headphone jack.

  I always work out to music. I’m disappointed that I left my music player behind when I left Aaron. I could store music on my new cell, but I haven’t had it long enough to think about it. I love music. I love how it can stir such deep responses just by tempo or beat.

  I warm up on one of the cross trainers, and it takes me nearly five minutes to figure out how the damn thing works but once it gets going it’s great. The action is smooth and uninterrupted and I circle in time to the funky dance song from Example that’s being filtered through my ear buds.

  The stretch of my muscles feels great. I haven’t exercised since leaving Aaron’s and after being so used to doing it every day, I’ve missed it. I come to a halt after twenty minutes and make my way to the soft matted area to stretch before using the free weights. The music is feeding through the speakers in the ceiling so I still feel buzzed and ready to push my muscles a little harder.

  I stretch my back out by bending forward fully and placing my hands flat on the floor. I’ve always been very flexible. I learned to keep supple as a young girl when I went to ballet lessons and even though I haven’t danced since I was eleven years old, I have kept up the exercises that keep your muscles willing and able. I lift my heel and hold it tight to my body, regulating my breathing and keeping my balance without a wobble. I hold like this until I feel the stretch ease and repeat with the other leg. I lie flat on the matting and pull one knee up to my chest, holding for a count of ten then releasing and doing the same with the other one.

  When I sit upright, ready to stand, I gasp.

  Standing in front of me is Denham, wearing the smirk to end all smirks. His dimple is in full force and he looks hot as hell in gym pants and a racer back tank that shows off his broad shoulder muscles and wide back.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hi, yourself.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m watching you,” he answers unapologetically.

 

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