by Hart, Cary
“Speaking of Tyler.”
“Is that why you left or did you …”
“Hey …” I reach for her elbow and spin her around. “It’s about you. It’s always about you.” I try to pull her in, but she takes a couple steps back. “It’s about protecting you.”
“Protect me here. Protect me in the kitchen. Protect me outside. Protect me in the club …” She squeezes her eyes shut. “Just protect me … with me.”
“Dammit, Penny. You aren’t making this easy for me.”
“How?” she argues. “How can I make this any easier for you?”
“Don’t fucking lie to me for one,” I spit back.
I’m tired. I want sleep, but most of all I want this to be over. Fighting with Penny is not what I wanted. I just want her to know I have this taken care of, but in order to do it correctly I need her to trust me with everything.
“I haven’t.”
“Where’s the note, Penny? Where’s the fucking note?” I hold out my hand.
“Don’t treat me like that. I have lived my whole life without a father and I don’t need one now.” She darts toward the bedroom. “You know what? Bed sounds good.”
“The note, Penny. What did the note say?”
“It didn’t mean anything, Shapiro. He was just playing a game.” She twists around when she gets to the door. “He just wanted to let me know that he knew where I was and that I had a boyfriend.”
“What did it say,” I repeat for the millionth time.
“Tell your boyfriend I’m watching you.”
“And what part of that screams okay?” I place my arm against the doorframe.
Rolling her eyes, she says, “You don’t know him, like I do. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have when I saw him.”
“YOU WHAT?” I spin around, flames shooting out of my head. I’m pissed.
“This is why I didn’t tell you.” She waves her hand around. “Acting like this … it’s scary.”
Slamming my hand down on the island, I vibrate the glasses in the sink, causing one to break.
Penny freezes and begins to shake.
“I was just …” Penny’s voice cracks. “I-I don’t know,” she confesses on a sob.
“Penny …”
It was painful to see her like this.
“Come here.”
But she doesn’t.
“Let me …” I take a couple of steps, careful to not startle her.
“No!” She smacks me away.
“Please,” I beg.
“No.” Her body wracks with a sob, but this time she doesn’t push me away.
Wrapping her in an embrace, I let her cry. Her tears soaking through my shirt.
Fists clench, knuckles white, her nails bite into her palms. Penny doesn’t know whether to be mad or to run away.
“It’s okay, baby.” I run my fingers through her hair, to calm the silent war within.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this.
“Let it all out.” I gently place a kiss to her forehead.
Her body tenses as she brings her arms up in between us. Creating a divide.
“I can’t do this.” She pushes off me and takes off for the bedroom.
Slamming the door.
Fuck.
I know I wasn’t wrong, but at this moment, being right wasn’t all that important.
Penny
A small rap at the door, tears me away from the replay of earlier. “Penny … please talk to me.”
I can’t. Not right now.
I know they say never go to bed angry, but in this case, we both need it.
“I’m so sorry.” His voice vulnerable.
I want nothing more than to open the door and let him in, but I’ve been here before. This wasn’t okay and if I let him in and we just apologize and act like nothing happened then things will go back to normal and this will get swept aside. The cycle will repeat and I’m not living through that again. Five years was enough.
Trying to ignore the man who is breaking down the other side of my door, I lie down hoping that sleep takes me soon.
Is that?
“Oh my God,” I mouth to myself.
He wouldn’t?
Placing my ear to the door I hear the blaring music of Grey’s Anatomy and Dr. McDreamy in the background.
My eyes go wide.
He did.
Jumping up, I tiptoe to the door and carefully crack it.
“Kool-Aid?” Shapiro’s on the couch, holding up two glasses.
Opening the door wider, I stay put and very calmly let him know how I feel. “When you left I thought about watching our show, but I didn’t. When you texted to say you weren’t going to be home. I thought about it again, but I didn’t. You want to know why? Because it’s our thing.”
“So, come here.” He flashes me a smile, still holding the glasses.
“Not everything can be fixed with Netflix and Kool-Aid.”
I say what needed to be said and I step back in and close the door. Throwing myself on the bed I cry until sleep pulls me under.
Penny
What a way to wake up, to a heavenly smell that’s so familiar. Similar to cookies, but the intense chocolate aroma gives it away.
Brownies.
Stretching on a yawn, I toss back the covers and throw my legs off the side of the bed and pad my way into the kitchen on a mission to find the moist fudgy goodness.
“Good evening.” Shapiro stands there in front of me with a glass of milk in one hand and a plate of brownies in another.”
“What’s that?” I make my way over to the island to find a seat.
“For you.” He slides the milk and brownies in front of me. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” I glance down at the brownies and the sight of them has me wanting to dive face first into the plate.
These brownies aren’t your typical scratch brownies. Nope, these are better. Dense and moist, more like fudge.
“Is this from the box?” My eyes go wide with excitement.
“Your favorite.” He walks around the island to come to stand in front of me. Placing my coffee mug in front of me.
Turning the stool to face him. Shapiro places a hand on each side of me, caging me in.
“This is my apology.”
“Brownies for the win.” I snag one up and take a bite. Filling my mouth before I screw this up.
“I shouldn’t have gotten upset with you for not telling me everything when I basically did the same thing.”
He lowers his head, so my light eyes are meeting his dark.
“I was tired and when you told me you saw Tyler, I was scared.”
“Scared?” I repeat with a mouthful of brownie.
“There is something about you, Penny Reed, that drives me crazy.”
“There is?” I can’t help but smile and Shapiro throws his head back, laughing.
“I have brownie on my teeth, don’t I?”
“Yup.” He matches my smile. “You make me feel things I never knew I could feel and I’m not sure what to do with it all.”
“What do you want to do with it?” I should have stuffed another brownie in my mouth. It’s questions like this that I was trying to avoid. Afraid of the reality of the answer.
“This.”
Slamming his lips to mine, nearly knocking all the wind from my lungs, he presses his tongue to the seam of my lips, asking for access, I open. This kiss isn’t innocent, it is anything but.
A tease—hot, fiery, passionate and very demanding. I can’t even pull myself away if I want to.
I don’t want to.
His hand drifts to my hip, settling there he pulls me closer. My legs instantly wrap around his waist as my arms reach up and tangle around his thick, strong neck. Threading my fingers through his hair, I tug before sucking in his bottom lip, gently biting.
Feeling his breathing quicken, as does mine. Match for match, our hearts beat as one.
So perfect.
I
want to pull away before I lose myself, but I can’t. In this moment of forgiveness, my senses have been seduced and I can no longer think straight.
I want him.
I forgive him.
I forgive me.
“I have wanted to do that since the last kiss,” Shapiro mumbles against my lips as he tries to break the kiss.
“You remember.” I smile, giving him a quick peck before I pull away.
“I do,” he confesses.
“I knew it!” I playfully smacked his chest. “You let me believe it didn’t mean anything.”
“It meant everything.” Shapiro pulls me up and into a hug. “Now that we cleared this up with our makeup kiss. I think we have some ground rules to set.”
“Here we go …”
“Just listen.” He bends over me, wrapping both arms around my waist and lifts, setting me on the counter. “I think you’re going to like this. I’m going to give you some freedom.”
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” I throw my arms around his strong neck and wrap my legs back around his waist peppering kisses down his neck. “Thank you!”
“Keep doing that and I’ll finish before I finish if you catch my drift.” He leans back and winks.
“Oh jeez.” I place my hand on his chest and rub lazy circles as he continues.
“I’ve had the cameras downstairs streamed to mine. This way if you want to go to the kitchen by yourself or have lunch with Nina downstairs you can.”
“So even though I’m alone, technically, I’m not,” I state. “You’re with me.”
“Watching you,” he corrects.
“Never thought you were the voyeur type.” I can’t help but joke. Being like this with him is so much more
Leaning down, he brushes my hair back from my ear and whispers, “I’m whatever you want me to be.”
Mine.
Shapiro
Just when I think I have myself distracted from the idea of Penny being outside of the apartment, without me, movement catches my attention on the screens in front of me.
Yes, I said screens. As in multiple. No, I’m not ashamed of the seven state of the art monitors lining my desk, whose footage now includes the kitchen below.
But I should be, as my mouth waters at the sight of her body moving to a song that I can’t hear. Dancing around the kitchen of Spotlight while she bakes.
She’s in her zone. Doing her thing. Her Kool-Aid.
Dropping the security brochure I was reviewing, I lean back in my chair and study her. The way her hips rock back and forth as she beats the batter has me adjusting myself. The thought of the way I want her hips to rock back in forth—
I really need to get some work done, but she is all I can think about. I see her, hell, I can even smell her. Her sugary scent of vanilla is all over this apartment. From the sprinkles in my kitchen to the froufrou bath shit in my shower and every place in between, she has left her mark on this place. And me.
Penny has somehow, in a few short weeks, transformed this apartment into more of a home than it’s ever been.
Before I get all pansy emotional about what that means, she bends over to put the cupcake pans into the oven and I see her little sundress riding up high on her thighs.
Pink! There is pink icing smeared on her golden skin.
Shit! I can’t leave her down there like that, what if Jake or someone comes in and sees. Her dress didn’t look that short when she walked down.
Grabbing my phone and locking up, I stomp my way down to the kitchen. Stopping by the club’s main security room very quickly to turn off the kitchen cameras.
No one else needs to have eyes on her. I’m going to be there.
Thankfully no one interrupts me in my quest. Knowing she’s virtually alone has me sweating just a little, until I round the corner and hear the sound of her voice as she hums to herself. She knew I would be watching, but from upstairs, not here across the room.
I can’t help but go back on my word to give her some space. I want to give her something all right and it has nothing to do with space.
Unable to stand back, I walk up and wrap myself around her from behind.
“Jeez!” She jumps, flinging icing before I brush her hair aside and place a kiss to her neck. “You scared me!”
“Sorry,” I mumble, my lips grazing her skin and my hands gripping her hips. And I am. I never want to be the cause of her fear. The opposite in fact. I want to erase every fear, every threat.
She relaxes back into me and the hum of the industrial refrigerator is the only sound I hear besides her heavy breathing, matching my own.
So much has changed. She finally feels comfortable with me, and I don’t want to ruin that, but I need her so bad. Need to have my hands on her. My mouth on her.
Before I can talk myself out of it like I have so many times since that kiss, she turns around and looks up at me. The desire on her face is plain as day.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Her voice is breathless, and I notice she has icing on one hand and an icing bag in the other.
“I’m hungry for something sweet,” I tell her.
“Well, you’re in luck, because I have a batch almost ready.” She smiles, and it hits me in the gut.
“I’m not hungry for cupcakes.” I stare down at her before bringing her hand to my mouth, licking the icing from her fingers.
One.
By.
One.
“Oh,” she whispers.
“Yeah, oh.” I swirl my tongue up her palm and to her wrist, applying light pressure as she falls into me.
I’ve been patient, but when a tiny moan escapes her lips, my resolve snaps and I lift her into my arms and set her onto the counter with a gentle thud.
“Oh. Cold.” She winces from the stainless steel on her bare thighs, the icing falling to the ground.
“I can help with that,” I promise her as I bend down to retrieve the bag from the concrete floor.
She watches me as I slowly move to stand between her legs and she opens them wider in invitation.
My palms rest on her knees and slowly trail up and under the hem of her dainty dress. Reaching around under one leg, I drag my finger higher and collect the wayward pink sugar before bringing it to my lips to lick it away.
“I noticed you had a little icing here.”
She arches back, watching me.
“Sometimes, I’m a little messy.” She blushes, and I know this is all new to her. Foreplay. Seduction. The fun that comes from making your lover squirm beneath your hands before you have barely even touched them.
Hands that only touch for pleasure, comfort.
“Messy is good.” I wiggle my fingers, still sticky with pink goo.
She leans forward and takes my fingers in her hand, before bringing them to her own lips.
I see her tongue dart out to taste my skin before I feel it. I grow painfully hard at the sight alone, but when her warm mouth takes my thumb into her mouth, I nearly make a fool of myself.
But I fight to maintain my self-control, to give her this chance to explore. When I’m satisfied she’s ready for more, I pull my hand away and shift upward, taking her lips with my own.
Our mouths meld together—a mix of salty and sweet. Skin and icing. Desire and hope.
She moans into my mouth and I raise the skirt of her dress around her waist, careful not to completely expose her as I gently ease her back, my palm dragging slowly down her chest, right between her perfect tits.
She falls back onto her elbows and looks at me, turned on and confused.
“What are you doing? I’ve never—” she breaths out heavily.
“Shhh. It’s okay. You trust me?” I ask, trailing my finger up her inner thigh resting it against the hem of her lace panties. Her moisture soaking into my skin while I wait for the green light to pleasure her.
“Yes, Shapiro. I trust you. Always.” She sighs, edging closer to me.
A simple yes would have been enough, but hearing my name
fall from her lips, lips swollen from my kisses, is my undoing.
Pulling the lace aside, I let my finger brush against her as I ease my mouth onto her, letting my tongue work a slow pace, just enough to caress her before withdrawing, then going deeper.
She moans, and her hips begin to buck as I drown in the delicious taste of Penny. The more I drink her in, the hungrier I become.
Picking up the pace, her hands tangle in my hair and I hold her in place and greedily lap her up as she rides out her ecstasy.
She falls over the edge, giggling and moaning as she writhes against my lips.
Just as I draw back and peer at her from between her gorgeous legs, the timer goes off.
I dip back down to place one last gentle kiss to her core, before letting her panties fall back into place.
Standing and helping her sit up as she adjusts her clothes she watches me, growing silent.
“Was I? Was it—” She stumbles over the words and I am crushed she doubts herself so much.
“Perfection.” I lean in and kiss her once more. Letting her taste herself on my lips.
“It’s actually my new favorite dessert.” I smile against her lips.
“Is that so?” She laughs. Drawing back, I see her smile is where it belongs.
“Yep. How about you? You okay?” I search her face for any traces of regret but only find her looking at me like I just hung the fucking moon and it’s the best feeling in the world.
“More than okay,” she whispers as I help her down before she rushes to get the cupcakes that are now burning.
“How much work do you have left?” I ask.
“I think I’m done here.” She winks, pulling them from the oven setting them aside to cool.
She may be done, but I’m just getting started, I think to myself as we clean up.
Penny
When we’ve wiped down all the surfaces and swept the floor he takes me by the hand and leads me upstairs.
No words are spoken. None are needed.
He said it all with his touch. I feel like I’m sleepwalking because I’m still riding the high of what I just experienced, what he did. What we did.
I could get used to being treated like that.
A slow, guilty smile spreads across my face as I think about how I’ll never look at pink icing the same again. Or how I won’t be able to walk in that kitchen without seeing us. Feeling him. He’s getting under my skin and making me not just need him but want him.