by Scott, S. L.
The fabric gives under little pressure, and then he takes the other side and rips it as well. He pulls the remains slowly from the back, his hand replacing it in the front and teasing my clit. My smile is gone, and my mouth wide open. I close my eyes and let him work his magic.
The moment I reach the peak, he buries himself inside me. Kisses to my shoulders and whispers of how good he feels cover my back until . . . until . . . he can’t fight it any longer. His orgasm hits hard, and his mouth closes around the skin on the back of my neck to keep the sound from traveling.
But it’s too much—his heat, his breath, his desire for me—I come again right under him with his hand covering my mouth. As soon as I exhale, he stands behind me and lifts me in the aftermath. Moving to the couch, we lie together in each other’s arms.
When I look up at him, I touch his cheek, knowing that sex may enhance emotions, but after spending the weekend with him, having time with his family, his mom especially, I feel as though I’ve seen so much more of Drew than he would normally allow.
He’s sexy, without a doubt. He’s handsome. He’s intelligent and kind. Driven. But he floored me by sending lingerie to work, by taking a risk to make me feel sexy. Naughty. Part of what I feel is post-orgasmic glow here, but I’m fairly certain I’m falling in love with him. Whispering, I say, “I know you don’t believe in destiny.”
His finger presses to my lips. “I’ve been meaning to let you in on a little secret, babe.” Not knowing where he’s going with this, he has my full attention. “I’m beginning to believe because of you.”
I kiss him, happiness bursting inside of me, and then curl a little closer to his side. We don’t have long with most people out of the office, but we have this stolen moment that I’ll never forget.
31
Drew
The fire between us went from an ember to a bonfire before we had a chance to catch our breath.
In three weeks, my life had completely changed—in a good way—because of Juni Jacobs. She’s sexy but kind, fun, and keeps me on my toes in the office and at home. I can’t say I fell in love with her the first time we met. There was shit involved, and a restraining order came to mind at another point.
No, she didn’t come on strong. It was a creeping fire that she lit inside me. By the time I realized how deep I was in trouble, it was too late. I have feelings for her like I’ve never had for anyone.
Even now as she walks around my apartment with a smudge stick that has me worrying it will set off alarms, I’m dumbfounded she chose me to be her boyfriend.
Out of all the men in Manhattan, she could have her pick. Out of millions, we bumped into each other too many times to call it a coincidence, some may say. Some . . . like my mother.
I meant what I said to Juni, though. I’m thankful destiny chose Juni and me to mess with.
She says, “Now that I got it started, you have to do it, Drew.” She hands the burning stick to me, and I stand there, not sure what I’m actually supposed to do with it other than walk around aimlessly. “I promised your mom.”
My mom moved over to Nick’s on Monday and then left for LA today. It was good to see her and have her meet Juni, whom she loved. She called me from the plane to tell me about first words and destiny, but I didn’t catch the rest before she had to hang up. It was a strange conversation.
“Do I chant something?” That makes her giggle, but I’m not actually kidding. “What does it say to do again?”
“Number two. Eradicate negative vibes from the apartment on the sixth Thursday after arrival. It’s the sixth Thursday since you came to New York, so we’re all good. Just walk around with it.”
I keep walking, stopping to look out the window as lights populate in the windows of the residential buildings across the avenue. “How much negativity could I have generated in six weeks?”
“That’s not for me to decide, but I assume by your track record quite a bit. Six weeks is enough time for you to get so buried in work that you’d be dragging your stress home every night.”
Moving behind her as she rests her elbows on the island has me remembering how fucking good it felt to be buried inside her then. I rub my hand over her ass. “C’mere.”
She turns, her hair swinging in a high ponytail on her head. I hold the smudge stick away from her and wrap my other arm around her. She’s only dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, but she still manages to steal my breath. She links her arms around my neck and rises on her toes. “Kiss me,” she says.
I lean down and close my eyes. Our lips meet in a gentle caress. Sometimes it’s soft, sometimes hard, other times fast and frenzied, or like now, slow and tender. Every kiss with her is steeped in meaning, and I’m memorizing each one.
“Ow!” she yells, jumping out of my arms and furiously patting the bottom of her jeans.
Looking down, I see the stick has left ashes on the floor, burning through the wood in several places. “Shit.” Smoke fills the room by the time I drop the stick in the sink and douse it with water. The smoke detectors go off, and I say, “Call downstairs and tell them it’s being handled.”
I grab two bottles of water from the fridge and start dumping them on the floor. Before the first bottle is empty, the alarms in the hall sound. I look up to find Juni hanging up. “It’s too late,” she says. “The fire department has to come out to check for structural safety.”
“Fuck.”
Two hours later, a firefighter approaches, not looking happy with me.
Understandable. I’m embarrassed that I caused the street to close and that every resident in the building had to be evacuated. “Fortunately, the fire was contained to your apartment. The damage to the floor didn’t spread after you put out the embers.” He looks toward the flashing lights on the police car barricade, and then adds, “The building is safe and secured. We’ve already started to help some of the elderly back to their floors. You’re going to receive a fine and bill from the city. I’d like to advise you not to play with fire, Mr. Christiansen. This could have been much more serious and deadly.”
I’m not arguing with a man carrying an ax around, so I say, “I understand.”
He leaves, and I start to look for Juni. The crowd is dense, and it’s dark, but I spot her up ahead with Rascal under one arm and her other hooked around an older man.
“Andrew?” I turn to see Gil waving me over.
I run my fingers through my hair, mad at myself for causing this trouble. “Hey, I’m sorry, I—”
“It happens. We’ve had entire apartments burn through. I’m not letting you off the hook, but accidents happen, and fortunately, no one was hurt. Hey, do you mind helping Mrs. Hendricks back to her apartment?”
“Of course.”
The woman must be in her eighties if I’m being generous. “Tall and handsome. Gil knows my type.” She laughs, and I introduce myself. The wait for the elevator takes over an hour, so I sit with her in the lobby until it’s our turn.
She asks, “Have I seen you spending time with Juni Jacobs?”
At the office, we’re guarded, but in the building, we date openly. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Her grandmother was such a lovely woman. I miss her. She passed away too soon.”
I look around to see if Juni is near, but I think she was luckier and caught an earlier elevator. She’s been coming and going through the stairwell all night helping, blowing me kisses here and there. She knows everyone and is a big part of this little community. Although I don’t want to invade her privacy, I’m not telling her to stop.
There’s a sadness that comes over Mrs. Hendricks’ blue eyes, and for a moment, I wonder if she’s going to cry. Unsure what to do, I lift my arm, not sure if I should give her support until she says, “It’s been a long time since a strapping young man, such as yourself, has held me. Hint, hint.”
Guess that settles it. I put my arm around her, and we sit there for a minute in silence. Then she says, “Her grandmother died a few years ago. Cancer. The incurable kind. M
y Artie smoked for sixty years, didn’t even have a cough. Got hit by a bus crossing down at 42nd. I just know he would have outlived me if he’d made a different decision that day. So you just never know how you’re going to go, but her grandmother deserved better. So did Juni. Such a sweet girl. I can still remember her with that Paddington Bear suitcase and this hat straight out of the jungle.”
I catch Juni holding hands with a little girl who’s carrying a teddy bear. She loads her onto the elevator with her mother and waves while the doors shut. She has so much love to give with her heart of gold. Invested in the story and more in the woman it’s about, I ask, “When did you meet her?”
“Her grandmother, Marion, I met the day she moved in. I think twenty-five, thirty years ago now. Keeping time isn’t something I’m keen to do anymore. Juni was seven when she came to live here. Her parents were botanists, famous even, but I guess they didn’t have time for a little girl.”
I’ve had a lot of thoughts about her parents since Juni told me her story. Some good. Some bad. At the end of the day, I think they were searching for a pot of gold that didn’t exist. It came at the expense of their daughter, though. “That’s too bad.”
“It really is. Everyone in the building adores her, but we’re also ready for her to leave.”
“Why is that?”
“Oh, honey.” She leans her head against my shoulder, smiling like a cat who caught the canary. “This is where we spend our twilight years, while for younger folk like you, it’s just a stop on your journey. A great location in a prestigious building. But she needs to spread her wings and fly out of this place. She needs to live without the security of this nest and find her place in this world. She’d be missed, but we’ll survive. Until we don’t because we’re old.”
Mike calls, “Mrs. Hendricks. It’s your turn.”
I stand and then help her to her feet. She says, “She could do worse than you. Handsome and rich.”
Laughing, I say, “I could only be so lucky to have the chance.” I look at the empty elevator and then say, “Are you ready to go?”
“Since Artie passed away.”
After the lobby is empty and everyone is safely back in their apartments, I drop on the bed next to Juni. “My body hurts. I must have run down twenty times.” I never wanted to keep the elevator from picking more people up by calling it to take me down. Juni’s idea.
“The good news is you don’t have to work out tomorrow.” She rolls to her side and props up on her elbow. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
I eye her out of the corner of my eye and then give her a wink. “I got distracted.”
“It happens.” She scoots closer and drapes an arm and leg over me. With her eyes closed, she says, “The good news. Number two is done.”
“At least something good came from it.”
We’ve had a lot of sex in the last week, but tonight, I just want to hold her. “What do you say we take a shower to get the smoke and sweat off, and we go to bed?”
“Sounds like heaven.”
It is. She’s heaven in my arms. I don’t know yet what to do with Mrs. Hendricks’s words.
But she needs to spread her wings and fly out of this place. She needs to live without the security of this nest and find her place in this world. She’d be missed, but we’ll survive. Is that what Juni needs? To be set free? Free of commitment to a job. Free of commitment to a tiny dog. Free of commitment . . . to me? Mrs. Hendricks was definitely right and wrong about one thing, though.
She’d be missed, but I’m not sure if I’d survive.
Is there any way I can keep her here without it feeling as though I’m clipping her freedom-seeking wings?
~ One Month Later ~
“What is this?” I ask, walking into the reception area.
Juni looks at the booklet in my hand and replies, “The Unofficial Manual to Christiansen Wealth Management. That’s a mouthful. It needs an acronym. UMCWM. That doesn’t work.”
I set it down on the counter of her desk. “We can figure that out later, but what is it?”
“You once asked me how I knew you liked the office at a freezing seventy-one degrees.” She taps the top of the booklet. “That’s how.”
“Vaguely. I need more.”
“You always do.” I’m pretty sure that was a sex joke. The wink confirms it. She says, “Melissa started a manual about everyone’s specifics, especially the bosses and Christiansens. I’ve added to it since I took this job. Figured it was my contribution to the next reception assistant.”
Thumbing through the booklet, I find some relief that it’s under a hundred pages. “Reception assistant?” I ask, glancing up at her.
“Receptionist feels dated. I thought a few minor changes wouldn’t hurt.”
I realize it’s not like discovering a plant’s veins contract and expand, but she’s here, even if it’s only temporarily, and improving the company.
I can’t help but want her to stay, but at some point, Mrs. Hendricks’s words need to come into play. Not just in relation to the apartment building but to this job that she’s incredibly overqualified for, and simply isn’t her destiny. Yeah, yeah. I said the d-word. Don’t tell her.
“I like it, Juni. As for the booklet, why does it say not to bother me at 12:15?”
She clears her throat. “You know why.”
“Ah.” Yes, I do. That’s when the office is the emptiest. Thank God there aren’t cameras in here. We’ve been good about keeping our relationship on the down low. Is it what we prefer? No.
I could go public, but it’s not a good look for someone in my position and could be easily misconstrued. Juni likes the secrecy, so we keep it contained when we’re at work. Well, except for at 12:15.
Speaking of, I check the time, already looking forward to our lunchtime rendezvous. Not that it’s every day, of course. Meetings offsite and staff meetings going overtime have prevented many meetups. Not only that, but we recognized that it would be more than risky if Juni was seen entering my office every day at 12:15 p.m.
“How many people have access to this book?”
“Me, and now you.”
“That’s good.” I flip the page, still scanning for the things that pop out at me. “Why does it say not to bother Nick on Tuesdays and Fridays after 4:30?”
She transfers a call and then leans in. “That’s when Natalie stops by. You’re not the only one having fun at the office. In fact . . .” She checks the door over her shoulder. “I think Laurie and Joseph are an item.”
“Really?”
Nodding, she says, “I found this on the copier.” She slaps a piece of paper down on her desk.
My eyes dart from the imprint of an ass with someone’s cheek pressed to it to Juni. “How do you know that’s them? How can you tell?” I angle my head sideways to get another look.
Taking a red pen, she circles a button. “Evidence number one, that’s the button on the sweater Laurie keeps on her chair for when a certain someone tries to freeze the office. Number two . . .” She circles three dots on the smashed cheek. “Joseph has three freckles on his left cheek that always remind me of Orion’s Belt.”
“Have you considered detective work?”
She clicks the lid back on the pen and drops it in her pen cup. “Doesn’t pay enough.”
Just when I think she can’t surprise me anymore. “And this job does?”
“No, but this job comes with perks. Reference 12:15 again.” She still does.
I’ve found her quick wit one of my favorite things about her, and that’s a long fucking list. “Don’t forget it, babe.”
“I never do, hot stuff.” She winks with a cluck of her tongue. “See you in twenty.”
32
Drew
“What do you think?”
I look around, thinking I don’t recognize this place. Juni is industrious. I haven’t completely left my CEO workaholic days behind me—I doubt anyone could simply eradicate the responsibilities on my shoulders—
but I have certainly left the office earlier most nights than I used to. In fact, despite finishing at seven twice this week, I’ve rarely been there until ten or eleven in the past six weeks.
Baby steps.
I’ve come home to home-cooked meals, or we’ve eaten out and then crashed at mine. But Juni’s often spent those nights making the apartment her grandmother left her, her own. The dusty wreath no longer hangs at the entrance, and the new door is more modern.
The knickknacks and picture frames have been pared down to a minimum and, from what I can see, put on two shelves of the bookcase instead of everywhere in the apartment. She even renovated the kitchen and bathrooms.
I’m not a jump in headfirst kind of guy, but it looks like she’s planning on staying a while. “I like it. It fits you.” I’m not sure if it fits us, though.
She beams and then sits on the couch, spreading her arms wide across the back. “I think so, too.”
The thing is, thoughts about our future have become more frequent, the idea of settling down, whatever that means—becoming more boring, more routine, staying home more often—started sounding more appealing.
So when I look around her place and how she’s decorated, the money she’s spent, and the time she’s dedicated to making it her own, I’m thinking she feels the opposite. Yet for someone who claims they don’t like commitment, she sure is all in with this apartment.
I won’t rain on her parade with the conversation that feels long overdue regarding us and her plans in life. I’m a planner by nature, so I won’t be able to stay quiet for much longer.
“Drew?”
Shifting forward, I set my drink on the coffee table. “We should probably get going.”
“Did you hear anything I said?”
“I’m sorry. I must have missed it.”