He flashed his rare wicked smile then leaned over me toward Daniella. "Am I in trouble?"
"Listen, man," she said with a laugh. "I just order the card stock and deal with vendors. You're gonna have to speak to my boss.”
He pulled me closer with his arm around my shoulder and kissed me on the head and then he whispered, "I love you even though you're angry with me."
"I have no idea what you're talking about. Let's watch the game." I wasn't angry at him, but him thinking I was only made me feel shittier. I decided to focus on the action on the court instead of whatever weirdness was swirling through my mind.
Duke showed up halfway through the first quarter and that was it for Daniella. I couldn't hear what he was saying to her, but she was still just as smitten as ever, giggling and leaning into him. Stealing kisses and shit. I have no clue how they didn’t end up on the Kiss Cam. I couldn't blame her. Duke was a mega star and hot to boot and even though they were having issues it was clear that he felt something strong for her.
The Flames won, though Michael and I both observed that their defense really did need some work. I knew he'd file that away for the draft. After Michael made the full rounds with the press and stopped off in the locker room, Duke invited us out to a club, but once I double checked with Daniella that she was cool to spend the night alone with Duke, Michael and I declined.
It was late. He had more shit to do in the morning, and Duke and Daniella had a couple months worth of bumping and grinding to catch up on. I wasn't sure I wanted to be the third wheel for that. They swung by the house with us so Daniella could grab her stuff. And then Michael and I were alone.
Vera had left a note saying there was food in the fridge and the puppies had been walked. They were both dead asleep, sprawled out on the living room floor, dreaming their little puppy dreams. I couldn't use them as a distraction. We needed to talk. I think we both knew it now. But I didn't know if I had a "talk" in me. I didn't even know where to start and that just made me more frustrated. This was Michael. I could tell him anything, but everything that came to mind to say felt wrong and stupid.
I held on to the counter as I toed off my shoes and then I decided on the coward's way out. "I think I'm gonna go to bed. Do you have more work to do?"
It wasn't a foolish question, but it was kinda shitty on my part. It was almost midnight on a Friday. Even Michael had his limits and we both knew it.
"No, I'm done for the day."
I glanced at him, fighting the lump forming in my chest. "Okay, well... I'm gonna head upstairs."
I didn't wait for him to respond. I just turned and tried to make for my hasty retreat but I didn't make it very far before Michael was on me. His grip on my upper arm, firm but gentle. When he turned me around all I could see was the lust storming in his eyes, but there was more.
And then I think he joined me on the Scared Shitless Express because instead of asking me for the hundredth time what was wrong or suggesting we have at least one conversation about us, he kissed me. He kissed me hard, walking me backwards toward the stairs, his hand moving along the back of my head, holding me close until my lips parted to his will. The kiss made everything worse. It made me feel reckless and trapped and so, so needy. It made me emotional.
I kinda shoved him away. Not hard, but it was definitely a push hard enough to put a little distance between us. We looked at each other, both breathing a little extra from the way his tongue had just been moving in my mouth. I didn't know what I wanted, but my body knew exactly what I needed. So I turned and ran. I made it up the stairs, but he caught me in the hallway, spinning me around again, trapping me in the cage of his arms against the wall. I looked up at him again, wanting to pull him close, wanting to push him away, but he made the decision for the both of us.
He held my gaze and he moved to his knees on the floor. He didn't tell me not to move but I could tell if I even made one step, the order would come out. He made quick work of the button and zipper on my jeans, yanking the denim down my legs. I didn’t resist when he lifted my feet one by one so he could pull them off all the way. And then he was moving my underwear to the side and his mouth was on me.
I cursed, loud, grabbing on to the back of his head as he buried his face between my legs. My thighs shook but I managed to keep myself upright as he worked me over with his tongue and his lips. He pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around my body, digging the blunt tips of fingers into my ass cheeks. He was opening me up, making it harder for me to fight him, making it harder for me not to come. I gave in then and starting riding his face, shamelessly grinding against the strength of his chin. I practically sobbed when I came, calling his name, saying "Oh fuck. Jesus, fuck. Michael," as my whole body trembled.
He moved back up my body, gripping my shirt and pulling it over my head. And then he was kissing me again, letting me taste myself on his lips and his mustache as he undid my bra. He pulled away so he could tear it all the way off and then his hand gently slid up the side of my neck. I was completely naked, vulnerable and still shaking from the orgasm that wasn't entirely done with my body. His blue eyes were dark, shadowed by the dim chandelier that hung high over our heads.
"Go get on the bed." His other hand moved up from my waist and fondled my breast. My nipple was already hard, aching for his touch.
I hesitated. I was so keyed up, I wanted him right there, right then. On the marble floor or up against the wall. I didn't care. Fuck a bed.
"I don't want to hurt you on this hard floor. Go."
I turned and moved toward the bedroom, yelping when he swatted my ass. But when I turned and looked back at him, he was in anything but a playful mood. I walked backwards to the bed, scooting up the sheets, playing with myself until he was undressed enough to join me. Michael climbed on top of me. I reached down and guided him into my pussy, loving the feeling of his dick sliding through my fingers as he filled me up and stretched me.
He fucked me hard, looking me in the eye as we tested the strength of that borrowed bed, reminding me just how well we fit together. "We're gonna talk about this tomorrow," he practically growled.
"Okay," I cried out, as he hit that perfect spot just right. The intensity in his eyes forced me to look away, but I curled my legs around his waist and held him closer.
Eight
Michael was in a fucking mood when he woke up. I don’t know if it was because he overslept or because Vera was the one to wake us up to tell us the driver was here. He had a day of golf and schmoozing with the Flames’ GM and the mayor of Miami. We’d been up half the night screwing. I had no idea where my phone was and I doubt at any point during our sex frenzy Michael thought to pause and set his alarm.
He found both his phones in the pockets of his pants half under the bed. Sheets, and comforter edges, and trouser fabric, and our combined snoring must have muffled all the missed calls from Ruben. As he was getting dressed, cursing under his breath about how he hated golf, I threw on enough clothes to run downstairs and dig my almost dead phone out of my purse. More missed calls from numbers I didn’t know, texts from Gordo asking if I was okay and texts from Kiara wanting to make sure I wasn’t mad at her for the Instagram picture robbery thing.
Never. I love you to bits. I’ll call you guys later, I texted her back as I walked up the stairs. I almost ran into Michael as we passed each other.
“Okay, I’m leaving,” he said.
“'Kay, so I’ll see you tonight?” I asked, half expecting him to say no. So much had been going on I wouldn’t be surprised if Ruben had added seven dinner meetings and a nightcap to his schedule while we were sleeping.
“Yeah, I’ll try to be back in time for dinner. We still need to talk.” He looked down, adjusting his belt and when he looked back up at me I could tell that oversleeping and golf weren’t the only things that had gotten under his skin. I bit the inside of my lip as I nodded.
“Okay.”
“I gotta go. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” I said to th
e back of his head as he disappeared down the massive stairs.
I sent Daniella a text letting her know I was up and surprisingly she was up too, and responsive.
Duke’s heading to the studio early. De’Bonay is aching to record. You wanna come?
I could spend my Saturday at home with the dogs and try to get some work done. I could make myself insane by conjuring up all the different ways this eventual talk with Michael could go horribly wrong, or I could spend the day with my best friend and two international pop stars and pretend that I didn’t have a care in the world. I texted Daniella back.
Yes. Send me the address. I’ll have a car bring me over.
Two hours later I was pulling up to another mansion on the other side of the city. Daniella came outside to meet me. As soon as we walked inside though, it was clear that it wasn’t a normal house. There was a waiting area with a concierge desk, and on the wall the words HARDROCK STUDIOS were mounted in thick dark grey lettering. I knew Duke had his own recording facilities, but I was picturing something else. The girl behind the desk smiled at us both as we slipped by.
“Isn’t this place cool?” Daniella said. Duke had clearly lifted her spirits.
“It is pretty dope.”
“The studio is on the lower level and then the rest is like a full service private retreat. So if the artists need a break they can hit the gym or go swim or go out back to the private beach. And there’s like hotel rooms upstairs. It’s really cool.”
“Did you guys stay here last night?” I asked as we walked through a set of security doors. We continued down a long hallway to an elevator. It only went down. Daniella hit the button.
“No, he has this amazing suite at the Beaux Arts.”
“Did you guys address the whole I love you text thing?”
“Absolutely not. He didn’t bring it up so I didn’t bring it up. We just fucked like rabbits. Did you guys talk?”
“Nope. Michael fucked me senseless in lieu of talking. And then he overslept and I think he was late for his tee time with the mayor, and now I think he’s pissed at me.” The elevator pinged and we stepped inside.
“Why? 'Cause he overslept?”
“No, 'cause he knows something’s bothering me and I haven’t told him yet. He’s like the communication king. This whole keeping shit bottled up goes directly against his business model.”
“Just talk to him. Tell him how you feel, then make up and then you can give me the green light to start planning your engagement party.”
“Jesus,” I groaned. “I forgot people even have those.”
Daniella gave me a pity chuckle and squeezed my arm as we stepped off the elevator. “Come on.”
There was another reception area, but no one was sitting there—probably since it was Saturday—and then another set of doors. We walked down to the last room and found Duke and another sound engineer sitting at the mixing board. There were two other people sitting on a massive sectional along the back wall. De’Bonay was in the booth.
I tried to keep my inner fangirl to myself as she waved at us. I’d gotten to know Duke pretty well thanks to Michael and Daniella so some of the star dust there had worn off, but De’Bonay I saw less frequently and, yeah, she was seriously the biggest chart topper in the world. With Duke behind the production I knew this album would be amazing.
They finished the take and after two more, she asked Duke if they could take a quick break. She came out of the booth and practically ran over to me. “Let me see that ring, girl!”
I offered my ring finger up before she ripped my arm out of the socket.
“It looks better in real life,” she said with a wink.
“What?” I asked.
“Oh, Jamie, let me see my phone.” I remembered then that one of the women on the couch was De’Bonay’s older sister. She said hi and congratulated me as she handed off her cell. De’Bonay pulled up a link to yet another gossip site. This article was pretty tame, just commenting on how Michael and I were together and recently engaged, and then they posted a few pictures from the game the night before. They’d done their best to zoom all the way in on my ring when I’d raised my hand to cover my mouth as I said something to Daniella. I’d learned from half a season of courtside games in L.A. that people loved trying to read lips.
“They really captured the thickness of my knuckles.”
“Girl. Come sit, tell us everything.”
“Duke, I’m sorry,” I said as De’Bonay pulled me over to the couch.
“No, hey. Mike’s my boy. Let’s take a lunch break. You ladies talk wedding stuff.” Duke winked at Daniella and then he and the sound engineer left us to our girl talk. At first, I felt a little overwhelmed, being the center of attention, but after a while I actually started to feel better. Something about talking to people who didn’t know Michael that well made it easier for me to share. Jamie had her tablet and by the time Duke let us know the chef had finished preparing De’Bonay’s special lunch, we were already going through different styles of wedding dresses.
We spent the rest of the afternoon listening to De’Bonay record and then when she was ready for another break, we headed out to the pool. It was so awesome watching her work. It was exactly the distraction I needed. I hadn’t heard from Michael. I thought about texting him, but I knew he would text me when he was done businessing it up. That night around nine though, I cracked.
Hey Babe. We’re still here at the studio. What’s your dealio?
I was trying to keep it light. But he didn’t respond. About thirty minutes later he just appeared in the doorway. De’Bonay had found her groove on a mid-tempo jam so I got up and went to him.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” We both said it to each other quietly. I didn’t even have to ask. He wanted to go home. I turned and motioned to Daniella that I was gonna go. She made the universal hand gesture for "I’ll text you later," and then I led Michael out to the elevator. We didn’t say much on our way home. He did not enjoy golfing and he forgot to put sunscreen on the back of his neck so now he was tired, sunburnt and pissed at me. He asked if I was hungry, but I told him we’d already eaten. So had he. The mayor was eager to show off the barbeque pit he’d just put in. Once we pulled into our little beachside neighborhood, we saw Vera taking the puppies for their nightly walk.
She was right behind us when we walked in the front door. I picked up Patch as soon as he came sprinting in the door and carried him over to the couch and turned on the television. The tension between us just got worse and worse as we waited for Vera to leave. Finally she said goodnight and headed back to her room. I cut the TV off, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at Michael. I chewed on my lip instead, letting Patch nibble on my fingers. The silence just stretched on.
“Kayla.”
I finally looked up. Michael shrugged, his arms open wide. I hated this. He hated it too. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I knew I had to.
“I feel kinda fucked up right now,” I said.
“About what? Tell me. Please.”
“First you can’t get mad.”
“I promise. I won’t.”
“I’m only telling you this part 'cause I’m sure it’s part of the reason why I feel so strange.”
“Okay.”
“The twins told me you were going to propose, like way before you did.”
Michael’s head dropped on his shoulders and he let out a huge breath through his nose. He wasn’t mad about that though. I could tell. He was just processing. He looked at the ceiling and then shook his head. “Okay, go on.”
“It was an honest mistake. I was talking to them about the puppies and they said they’d already met Penny and then I dragged the rest out of them.”
“Did you not want me to propose?”
“No! No.” I sighed and put Patch on the floor. I had to pace. “You—you ask me for my input on everything. When we started dating we were here every step of the way.” I gestured between us, eye to eye, level playing field and all
. “Even with this deal you asked me first. I was just your girlfriend then. I have no say whatsoever in your business, but you asked me. But when we got here, everyone already knew. They had a freaking jersey waiting for me. You knew.”
I knew I sounded crazy, but it was all really starting to come together in my mind, why our first week as an engaged couple felt so off.
“I knew what, baby?”
“You knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. You knew you wanted to have kids with me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m trying to understand—”
“You knew weeks ago, or months ago, and you didn’t tell me. You told my parents, your parents and the rest of your family and my sisters and two lawyers and Stephen and Stephen’s wife and Ruben and probably Holger and PJ. You probably told Duke. You were smart to keep it from Daniella, but I’m sure you told the dogs, but you didn’t tell me.”
“Kayla…”
“I was sitting there in the offices of Lawn and McNamara, and it wasn’t the prenup itself, but I felt so fucking uncomfortable the whole time because you weren’t there. I’m actually glad you had it drawn up 'cause I’d box you in the street if you tried to take Patch away from me, but this is pretty much the biggest decision of both of our lives and you made it without me. We didn't talk about kids. And then after I sign the thing we had to turn around and come here. And I’m trying to be supportive. I hope I’m being supportive.”
“You are. You’ve been amazing. The last few days have been insane and you absolutely showed up.”
“And I’m happy for you. This has been fun, and I can’t wait to see what happens with the team next, and I even think I can learn a lot from watching you take on this new venture. But this—” I held up my hand, held up the ring. “There’s been no time to even talk about this. I feel like we should have been excited about this together.” I broke then, hearing the words come out of my mouth. I sounded so ridiculous. I felt selfish.
SO RIGHT: A Sugar Baby Novella Page 9