by Bromberg, K.
And then I still when the one word he said breaks through my sleep hazed brain. Girlfriend. I want to ask him to say it again so I can hear the word that is so simple but just literally took my breath away. But it’s the fact that he’s said it so casually, as if that’s how he thinks of me, that I don’t want to draw attention to it.
I sink further into the comfort of my bed with a huge smile plastered on my lips. “How’s Nashville?”
“It’s Nashville,” he replies drolly. “Not bad, just not home. I’m sorry to wake you up with the time difference, but I’m going to be crazy busy all day, and I wanted to make sure that I got to talk to you. To hear your voice.”
His words soften my smile, knowing that he’s thinking about me even though he’s doing work and prepping with his top sponsor. “Your voice is definitely a better wakeup call than my alarm clock…” I falter, holding back before I say screw it and just say what’s on my mind. “I miss you,” I tell him, hoping he hears what I really mean behind the words. That I miss more than just the sex. That I miss him as a whole.
He’s silent on the other end of the line for a moment, and I think maybe I’ve expressed too much verbalized affection for Mr. Stoic. “I miss you too, baby. More than I thought possible.” His last statement is said very quietly as if he can’t believe it either. I smile broadly and snuggle deeper in my covers as his words warm me. “So what are your plans for the day?”
“Hmmm…sleeping some more and then a run, laundry, cleaning house...Maybe dinner with Haddie.” I shrug although I know he can’t see it. “What’s your schedule like?”
“Brand meetings with the Firestone team, sponsorship junkets, a trip to Children’s hospital—best part of the day if you ask me—and then some formal dinner thing tonight. I’ll have to check with Tawny on the exact order.” He sighs as I roll my shoulders involuntarily at her name. “The days just all run together sometimes on these trips. It’s all important but it’s also rather boring.”
“I bet it is.” I laugh. “Next time you’re nodding off in one, just picture what my mouth did to you last Sunday,” I murmur to him in my breathiest voice. Images flash through my mind and I can’t fight the smile that comes with the memory.
A strangled moan comes from the other end of the line. “Jesus, Ry, are you purposely trying to make me walk around with a permanent hard-on today?” When my only response is a contented sigh, he continues, the edge in his voice expressing his unsatisfied desire. “When I get back, I’m locking you in my bedroom for an entire weekend—tying you up if I have to—and you’ll be my sex slave. Your body will be mine to use as I please.” He chuckles. “Oh and don’t worry Ryles, your mouth will be used and then some.”
Hello, Mr. Dominant! “Why are you limiting us to just your bedroom? I believe you have numerous surfaces in that large house of yours that are usable.”
The groan he emits causes need to coil inside of me. “Oh, don’t worry about where. Just worry about how you’re going to walk afterward.” His laugh is strained and sounds like how I feel.
“Promise?” I whisper, my body heating up at the thought of it.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’d stake my life on that promise.” I hear his name called in the background. “You ready, Becks?” he says away from the speaker before sighing loudly. “I gotta go but I’ll call you later if it’s not too late, okay?”
“Okay,” I reply softly. “It doesn’t matter the time. I like hearing your voice.”
“Hey, Ry?”
“Yeah?”
“Think of me,” he says, and I can hear something in his voice: insecurity, vulnerability, or is it the need to feel wanted? No, not wanted. He has that all of the time. Maybe it’s the need to feel needed. I can’t decipher it, but that little request has my heart constricting in my chest.
“Always.” I sigh, a smile on my lips as the line goes dead.
I sit with the phone to my ear for quite some time, so many thoughts running through my head about Colton and the sweet and affectionate side of him. The side that I’m getting glimpses of more and more. I can’t help the broad smile on my face as I hang up my phone and sink back into my bed. I will myself to go back to sleep, but thoughts of him and endless possibilities prevent it.
The next time I glance at the clock, I’m startled an hour has passed while I’ve been lost in my thoughts, thinking about our time together. About how in such a short time he has brought me from such maddening lows to the incredible high like I am feeling now.
I finally start to drift off to sleep when my phone rings again. “Seriously?” I groan until I see who the caller is.
“Hey, Momma!”
“Hi, sweetie,” she says, and just hearing her voice makes me want to see her again. I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve been able to hug her. “So when were you going to tell me about the new man in your life?” she asks, tone insistent.
Nothing like getting straight to the point. “Well don’t beat around the bush or anything.” I laugh at her.
“How do you think I felt when I was flipping through last week’s People magazine and lo and behold, I thought I saw a picture of you. So I flipped back and sure enough there you were, my daughter, looking absolutely breathtaking, on the arm of that tall, dark, and sinfully handsome Colton Donavan.” I start to talk but she just keeps on going. “And then I read the caption and it said that ‘Colton Donavan and his reported new flame heat up the night at the Kids Now charity function.’ Do you know what a shock it was to see you there? And then to think that you’re dating someone and I don’t even know about it.”
I can hear the shock in her voice. And the hurt over not telling her about my first date since Max. That she had to find out from a magazine. I glance over to my dresser where the copy of People sits. “Oh, Mom, don’t be silly.” I sigh, knowing I’ve hurt her by not confiding in her.
“Don’t be silly?” She scoffs. “The man has donated a boatload of money to bring your project to fruition to get your attention and you’re telling me I’m being silly?”
“Mom,” I warn, “that’s not why he donated the money.” She harrumphs on the other end of the line at my answer. “No, really. His company picks one organization a year to focus on, and this year it happened to be mine. And I wasn’t not telling you…things have just been crazy.”
“Well, I think it’s rather telling that you told me about his company donating the money for the project, but neglected to say that you’d actually met him…so?” she asks skeptically.
“I met him at the charity function,” I answer without giving more away.
“And what happened at that function?”
“Have you been talking to Haddie?” I ask. There is no way she knows what to ask without having talked to Haddie.
“Quit avoiding the question. What happened at the function?”
“Nothing. We talked for a few minutes and then I was pulled away because of a problem with the date auction.” Dear old mom doesn’t need to know about the brief interlude backstage before that.
“And what was the problem?”
“Mother!”
“Well, if you’d just answer me straight the first time, we wouldn’t have to play this cat and mouse game you’re playing now would we?”
What is it with mothers? Are they clairvoyant? “Okay, mom. A date contestant got sick. I took her place. Colton bid on a date with me and won. Are you happy now?”
“Interesting,” she says, drawing out every syllable, and I swear I can hear the smirk on her face in the single word. “So you tell me that I’m being silly when one of the sexiest men alive is pursuing my daughter, donating to her charity to get her attention I assume, and taking her to high profile events to show her off? Really? And how is that being silly, Rylee?”
“Mom—”
“How serious is it?” she deadpans, and I shouldn’t be shocked at her frankness, but even after all of these years, I still am.
“Mom, Colton doesn’t do serious,” I try to de
flect.
“Don’t try to play it off, Rylee,” she scolds. “I know you well enough to know that any man you give your time to is obviously worth it. And you wouldn’t waste your time on someone that is in it for a quick lay.” I cringe at her words. If only she knew about Colton’s arrangements, I’m sure she wouldn’t be so sure of my judgment then. “So tell me, honey, just how serious is it?”
I sigh loudly, knowing that my mother is tenacious when she wants an answer. “Honestly, from my viewpoint, it could be something. From his...well, Colton isn’t used to doing the more than a couple of months type of thing. We’re just feeling it out as we go,” I answer softly and as honestly as possible.
“Hmmm,” she murmurs before falling silent. “Does he treat you well? Because you know that they always treat you the best in the beginning of the relationship, and if it’s not good in the beginning then it’s not going to get any better.”
“Yes, Mother,” I say like a child.
“I’m serious, Rylee Jade,” she says, her voice implacable. She must be serious if she’s using my middle name. “Does he or doesn’t he?”
“Yes, Mom. He treats me very well.”
I hear her warm laughter on the other end of the line, and I can tell she’s relieved. “Just remember what I always say; don’t lose yourself trying to hold onto someone who doesn’t care about losing you.” I finish mouthing the words she’s saying. Words she’s told me since I started crushing on boys as a teenager.
“I know.”
“Oh, honey, I am so happy for you! After everything that you’ve been through…you deserve nothing but happiness, my sweet child.”
I smile at her unconditional love and concern for me, appreciating what a great mother I have. “Thanks, Mom. We’re just taking things a day at a time right now and seeing where it leads us.”
“There’s my girl. Always with a level head on her shoulders.”
I sigh, a soft smile on my face. “So how are things going? How have you been? How’s Dad?”
“All’s good here. Dad’s fine. Busy as ever, but you know how he is.” She laughs and I can imagine her running her tongue over her top lip as is her habit. “How are the boys?”
I smile at my mom’s question. She treats them like they’re family too, always sending them treats or cookies or little things to make them feel special. “They’re good. I think Shane has his first pseudo-girlfriend, and Zander is slowly making progress.” I go through the boys and talk about each one with her, answering her questions, and I can sense another care package coming for them.
We talk for a bit more before she has to go. “I miss you, Mom.” My voice cracks with my words because she might be tough and overbearing, but she only wants the best for me. I love her more than anything.
“I miss you too, Ry. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”
“I know. I love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
I hit call end and snuggle back into my warm bed that for some reason no one will let me sleep in this morning. I glance over at the dresser at the People and grab it. I flip it open to the marked page and there I am.
I stare at the picture of Colton and me at the Kids Now function on the red carpet. He is standing, his shoulders squared to the camera, with his hand in one pocket of his slacks and his other hand wrapped around my waist. His pocket square front and center. His face is looking toward the camera, but his chin and eyes are angled toward me with a huge smile on his face.
My eyes gravitate to the part of the picture that I love the most, the way his hand grips my hip, a possessive hold announcing to the world that I am his.
I reread the caption again and sigh. I’m so glad the press hasn’t gotten a hold of my name yet. I’m not ready to be thrust in to the media circus but I know it’s inevitable if I’m with Colton.
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” I mutter to myself.
I hold the picture in my hand, staring at it until I talk myself into taking my run. I shift out of my bed when my phone dings a text. I laugh out loud at technology’s rule over my life this morning and nonetheless pick up my phone to see Colton’s name. I can’t help the smile on my lips.
Thinking nasty thoughts of you in the middle of my meeting. Won’t be standing for a while now. Bruno Mars – Locked Out of Heaven.
I laugh out loud, knowing the song and feeling flattered at the same time at the song’s lyrics. I text him back.
So glad I could help with your boredom, Ace…it’s the least I can do. Think more thoughts! TLC – Red Light Special.
I smirk as I toss my phone onto my nightstand, knowing that he’s going to have a lot harder time concentrating in his meeting now.
“YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK?”
“Huh?” I look over to where Becks is sitting on the chair across from me, but I move too fast and the room spins for a minute before I can focus again.
“I think,” he says, laughing and tilting God knows what number beer we’re on at me, “I think we need to have a moment of silence.”
“Who died?” I’m drunker than I thought. What did I miss? I lift my bottle to my lips and try to figure out what he’s talking about.
“Your single, non-pussy-whipped self.”
“Bullshit!” I spout through his damn laughter that’s a little too loud right now for my drunk ears.
“Bullshit?” he says as he scoots to the edge of his chair, and I want to tell him not to stand, that he’ll fall on his ass. Then again, he’s fucking with me and I could use a good laugh at his expense so I refrain. “Were you just not looking at your phone like you wanted to call her and get off?”
I lay my head back and laugh because hell if he’s not right. It’s been five fucking days since I’ve had her, since she stayed the weekend at my place. Hours occupied with sex that rocked my world and downtime where she challenged me, pushed me, laughed with me. A first for me on so many levels, but the most important one was that I wasn’t freaked the fuck out about it.
And that never happens.
“It’s called Skype,” I tease, closing my eyes momentarily. No amount of alcohol can fuck with the perfect image in my head of answering my iPad to find Rylee sitting on her bed, lace and garters and come-fuck-me-gear on the other end of the picture connection. Manicured fingernails parting pink flesh to show me just what I’m missing. Dirty talk I’d never expect to fall from her lips but perfectly fitting in that telephone-sex rasp of hers.
“Exactly. When have you ever had Skype-sex? You usually snap your fingers in whatever town you’re in and you can pick from the hundred that come running and drop to their knees.” I hear the pop of a bottle top and then another and open my eyes to see him holding a fresh one out to me.
I think for a second as I accept it and fuck if he’s not right.
“See? I told you. When you brought her to Vegas with us I thought she was just a passing fad. Thought you were testing the waters because you weren’t used to having a challenge and it got a rise out of you. Literally,” he deadpans, drawing a shake of my head. “But, Wood, after the past few weeks, you bailing from work early to go to go-kart tracks and shit … It’s more than obvious that we need to say our parting words and have a moment of silence for your dearly departed dick.”
“Becks—”
“Shh!” he responds, trying to hold his pointer finger to his lips but his depth perception is so off I laugh when he tries several times to get it there despite his dead serious face. “A moment of silence is needed to kiss your unvoodooed ass goodbye.”
“You’re such an asshole,” I tell him but know I’m lucky to have him as my partner in crime.
“Shh!” he says again, and I give up. I take a deep breath and roll my eyes but humor him and remain silent. I swear he’s passed out but he’s still sitting at the edge of the chair and hasn’t fallen over.
Yet.
But his eyes are still closed when a huge-ass grin turns his mouth up and he claps his hands together and rubs them
. “Shit, that was easier than I thought.”
“What was?” My buzz is humming now and I’m finally relaxed after a fuck-all day with the Firestone guys and negotiations over shit they’re going to cave on in the end anyway.
“Getting you to admit you’re a kept man now.”
“Fucking Christ, dude!” I spit my beer out. “Kept? You’re calling me kept?” That’s like the equivalent of telling Jenna Jameson she’s a virgin.
“It’s pretty fucking obvious when there’s a huge neon sign above your head flashing no vacancy for your stabbin’ cabin that you’re a kept man. Have a woman now.”
“A woman now? I’m sure Ry would love to hear you refer to her as that.”
He eyes me over his bottle. “So she’s not your woman, then? Because usually when you hang up the phone you don’t think twice, back to business. Now you hang up with a little smirk on your face and you’re lost in la-la land for a bit.”
“La-la land?” I laugh.
“What would you call it, then? Girlfriend-ville?” He eyes me. Dares me to deny his reference since I’m the self-proclaimed don’t do the girlfriend thing kind of guy.
I begin to argue but then stop. Fucking Becks. He knows me like the back of my hand and yet this is uncharted fucking territory for me. A woman that I want to color outside the lines with. No, scratch that. A woman that fucks with me on so many levels that I’m so busy being challenged and seduced by her words, her body, and her defiance that I don’t even realize the parameters I’m used to controlling don’t really matter anymore … because she does.
Fuckin’ A, he’s right, but hell if I’ll tell him that.
“We’ll go with woman,” I concede, but the word girlfriend rolls around in my head, sticking here and there as I get used to the idea of it.
“Holy shit!” Becks says, pounding on his chest acting like he’s choking and I just stare at him unamused despite the smile on my lips. He stops laughing and tosses a bottle cap at me as he leans back in his chair. “Well, admission is half the battle. Keeping her is the other half.”