“Your place is so clean and organized.”
“I guess I am a tidy, organized person. I will admit I have a cleaning service that comes in once a week to do the heavy work, so I can’t take all the credit.”
The doorbell rings, and I follow Clay to the main living area. I’m drinking more of my wine when he returns from the foyer with our bags of food.
My eyes widen as I swallow down my wine.
“That looks like a lot of food.”
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got several things. I thought you could take the leftovers home with you to have for lunch tomorrow if you’d like.”
He sets the bags down on the counter I’m leaning against. I grab hold of his shirt at the waist and tug on it. “I’m on to you.”
“What?” he asks, appearing genuinely puzzled.
“This is like the desserts. You want me to eat them the day after our date so I will think of you. Same tactic. When I’m starved at work tomorrow, I’ll heat up the Chinese food and think of the great time we had this evening.”
He grins and pulls me against his body. His arms encase me, and he ducks to kiss my lips.
“I wasn’t consciously thinking of that when I ordered, but I love that you’re anticipating this evening being great.”
I feel the warmth to my cheeks, and to take the attention off of me, I lean up to kiss him.
“Getting enough for my lunch was thoughtful.” It hits me that I’m to have lunch with Travis tomorrow. I move away and begin removing containers from the bag, gnawing on my bottom lip in the process.
We fix our plates, and Clay leads me to the dining room. The cherry wooden table has a classic look with fancy curved legs. There is a china cabinet center to the wall next to us, and it’s filled with various items. There is a set of dishes and a couple of vases.
He looks to where my eyes are drawn.
“Mom insisted on filling it. She stops in sometimes and always brings something new to decorate the place. I believe she’s hoping a woman will like it and stick around. She’s desperate for grandchildren.”
“I by no means think you’re old, but you are of an age where couples often have children. Do you want them?” I ask.
“Yes, I’d like to have a family.”
It’s quiet as we dig into our food, and I dwell on the summer and my miscarriage. I don’t know how I’ll get the courage to conceive again. What if I lose another baby? I want a family, too, though. One day.
“It’s quiet in here … and formal,” I say.
“Don’t you sit at a table to eat?” he asks, revealing a smirk.
I blush. “Only when my parents insist. I’m more laid back and eat on the couch while I watch television.”
“We can watch TV after if you’d like.” He reaches under the table and squeezes my leg. “What programs do you watch?”
I feel the flush creeping up my face again.
“I imagine not the same programs as you enjoy watching.”
“Try me.”
“OK. I like watching reality TV; something where I can get lost in other people’s drama to take my mind off of my own worries.”
His eyebrows rise in amusement.
“I’m more of a C-Span kind of guy or Fox News.”
To prevent snickering from his comment, I shove a bite of stir-fried vegetables inside my mouth. Having a thought, I quickly chew my food.
“Oh, I’m watching this season of Dancing with the Stars. We should watch that.”
“If it will make you smile like this, then I’ll happily watch it with you.”
We finish dinner, and like he said he would, Clay packs up the leftovers for me to have tomorrow. I can’t get over how thoughtful he is.
We sit on his cream leather sofa, and I slip off my shoes so I can bring my legs up to tuck beside me. He pulls me close and finds my show.
I’m embarrassed watching it with him, and I don’t like the feeling. Although the dancing show takes great concentration and talent, it seems less intellectual in comparison to the programs he enjoys.
He’s considerate, though, and never says a word. The awkwardness gets to me, so I grab the remote and shut it off. Bewildered, his head turns to me.
“Maybe we should do something a little more personal,” I say, giving him a seductive smile. He’s earned it; that’s for sure.
He pulls my head toward him and crashes his lips to mine. We both turn completely sideways, and he falls backward, taking me with him. My fingers delve into his coal black hair, the strands thin and silky. He groans against my mouth as our tongues dance together.
His hands are everywhere, and the lust that’s been brimming between us is taking control. He clutches my ass as my pelvis pushes against his erection underneath me. He releases my mouth and gazes at me.
“Go with me to my bedroom. I promise I’ll take you home later if you feel it’s too soon to stay the night.”
I nod and climb off of him. It’s been three months since I’ve had sex, so my libido is cheering me on. I have no doubt it will be doing so all the way to the finish line.
Taking my hand, Clay pulls me along at a swift pace. He closes the door behind us and begins pulling back the grey duvet blanketing his four-poster king-size bed. It too is made of cherry, along with a wide dresser and matching chest.
His gaze is hooked to mine as he lifts my red sweater over my head and admires its matching silky bra. My breasts are more than adequate when compared to my petite frame, and his smile says he likes what he sees.
He reaches behind and unclasps my bra. His hands waste no time palming my breasts, and I feel my nipples hardening beneath. It’s incredible, and I want him to touch me.
The thought surprises me. I believed it would take longer for me to desire a man’s touch besides Travis’s, but Clay is sweet and gentle, and I feel safe with him.
Reaching down, I undo his belt. He’s hurried as he lets my breasts go to yank off his pants and socks. I unbutton his shirt, and slip it over his shoulders.
Except for the boxers he’s wearing, his body is now bare, and it hits me that I’ve never been with a man who wears boxers. They’re light blue, and he’s adorable in them.
His chest is hidden under a patch of hair, and as he stands before me in his wire-frame glasses and boxers, our age difference is more evident. He’s a distinguished older man.
“Fuck, your tits are perfect.”
I giggle. OK, that didn’t sound distinguished. I guess he is still a male. I strip off my pants and panties and gnaw on my lip as he absorbs the sight of me.
He leads me to the bed, and we climb on it. He’s up against my side in a beat, his tongue pushing its way inside my mouth as my nipple rolls between his fingers.
He scoots down to suck on it, and my head falls back, my body arching to give more of myself to him. I’m whimpering at his touch and gripping his hair.
“Those sounds … I can’t take it. I need to be inside you.”
“Do you have protection?”
His eyes are tilted up at me, and they’re full of desire.
“Yes.” He’s up and striding to his bathroom. He returns, and to be certain it’s on good, I watch him roll it down over his stiff cock. I couldn’t take another incident like I experienced this summer.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks, being his sweet self.
I nod a few times, and he climbs on top of me. I’m turned on and wet, so he slides right in. His face buries against my neck, and he stills.
“It’s been a long time for me, so I have to go slow for this to last,” he murmurs.
I weave my fingers in his hair.
“Look at me.”
His head lifts, and our breaths mingle as I admire his hazel eyes. They’re browner tonight, darker like his lust for me.
“Move slowly then, and let me stare at your unique eyes. I like them,” I say with a smile.
“You’re beautiful and so damn sweet.” He pulls back and pushes his way in agai
n, but it’s slow and controlled.
His eyes close on occasion, the urge to drive into me evident by the strain of his neck muscles and harsh breaths.
After minutes of an exquisite rhythm, I feel an orgasm coming on, the pleasure mounting with every thrust.
“God, I feel you tightening around me.” Unable to control it any longer, he moves much faster, and I’m no longer at the edge of the precipice. The erotic growl from him as he stills and orgasms pushes me over it.
My eyes squeeze shut as I savor the pleasure. His head falls to my neck again, and my choppy breaths bathe his shoulder.
Without moving the rest of his body, he cranes his neck up and gives me a gentle kiss, his expression glum.
“You’re amazing, and I wish we could stay right here for the next day or two.”
“You’re not supposed to make that face after sex.”
Rolling off of me, he walks to the bathroom, and I’m assuming it’s to dispose of the condom. He returns and climbs into bed next to me. I’m sitting up and fisting the sheet, waiting for him to respond.
“As of late, I’ve been focusing on gathering voters in Georgia, but over the next year, I’ll be spending more and more time in Washington.”
“Oh.” I glance across the room. I’m not sure what to say to that.
“It’s part of the deal. I will have to maintain a home here, since I represent Georgia, but I’ll be in D.C. often, too. I’m discovering each time we’re together that I want more time with you, not less.”
“I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, too.”
“I wasn’t trying to keep the news from you. I’m normally surrounded by those who follow politics, and they know this is how it works. I only thought to mention it now because I feel closer to you after what we just shared.”
Once again I’m embarrassed over my lack of knowledge about our government system.
“I imagine you’ll be busy when you are home, so maybe we can spend a day together every other Saturday or Sunday.”
“I believe I’d rather see you every weekend if you’ll agree to it.”
“OK, but I don’t want you to feel obligated. This between us is new, and we’re not in a relationship, so let’s see how it goes.”
He’s grimacing, and I’m getting the impression he’s willing to move this along faster than I’m ready to. My fingers travel through his hair, and I smile at him, trying to bring back his happy mood.
“I hope you have another condom hiding in your hand. I think I want to do that again.”
He finally grins and jumps from the bed.
“Give me one second.”
Chapter Nineteen
Travis
My arms are crossed, and I’m bouncing my foot as Franklin and I wait for the AA meeting to begin. I’m not talking tonight. No way, no how. Maybe next time.
“You OK, man?” he asks.
“Yeah, but I hate that I have to do this.”
“I’m proud of you for coming.”
I glide my hands down my face.
“I have important reasons to be here. It’s not only for my well-being; it’s for my entire future. I feel like the rest of my life will be shitty if I don’t get Becca back, and this is one of the ways I’ll show her I’m serious about being better.
“After that drunk asshole took so much away from her, she’d never be with me if I continued to drink like I was before.”
“I get how badly you want her back, but she left Casteel with another man today. You should come to terms with the chance she might be moving on.”
“Unless she can tell me she loves him and doesn’t love me, I’m not accepting shit.”
A speaker begins talking, and I’m glad I don’t have to listen to Franklin’s lecture. He means well, but he doesn’t understand the magnitude of how much I love Becca.
I can’t blame him since he had a front-row seat to viewing my pathetic ways this past summer, but that’s over. I wised up, and I won’t back down for Clay Carlton. He’s not taking my girl.
***
“Dude, leave it alone. You’re having lunch with her tomorrow,” Link says.
“No. Drive past Casteel. I have to know if she’s still with him.”
He shakes his head and makes a U-turn to drive the other direction.
“I can’t comprehend why you want to torture yourself. You’ve had a stressful enough day with your meeting and watching her leave with him.”
I don’t respond, and it’s silent as we drive toward work. It’s ten-thirty, and the only lights in the parking lot of Casteel are from the lampposts and one over the front doors.
There sits Becca’s car, and it’s like one of those lampposts is laughing at me as it spotlights her vehicle. She’s still out with Clay, and I can’t stand the thoughts I’m having. I picture her in his bed, staying over there for the night, and doing other things besides sleeping.
“Fuck.” I bring my fist down on the dash.
“Great,” Link mumbles. “Now what?”
“Take me home.”
“Bro, why don’t you crash at my apartment tonight?”
“I’m not going to drink.”
“Humor me. It’s been a rough first day back to work for you.”
I am thinking about alcohol, and I hate it.
“Alright, I’ll stay, but swing by my place so I can grab a few things.”
Becca
It’s eleven o’clock when Clay pulls up behind my car I’d left in the parking lot of Casteel Motorsport. There’s one lamppost shining down on it.
He runs around to the passenger side and opens the door for me. I’m pulled into his arms, so I rest my head against his chest.
“I had a great time tonight,” he says before he kisses the top of my head. I breathe in his masculine scent of sandalwood that lingers on his dress shirt.
“I did, too. If you don’t mind, text me when you land in D.C. so I know you made it safely.”
“Of course.” I strengthen my hold around his waist, and he hugs me harder, too, before we part ways. I get inside my car and start it up.
As it warms, I stare at the building, and out of nowhere, I’m hit with an enormous amount of guilt over sleeping with Clay.
Having him bring me back to Travis’s safe haven seems wrong. I need to be sure Clay stays away from this place. It’s too soon for Travis to see me with another man.
I realize Clay is waiting for me to pull out of the parking lot, which is sweet of him to look out for me, so I put the car in reverse and wave as I drive off.
Instead of thinking about him, like I should be after what we shared tonight, my mind drifts back to Travis. I’ll have to accept that if I choose to be with Clay, Trav will one day bring another woman around.
The thought sickens me. I have a feeling seeing Travis at Casteel is going to mean my life is anything but stable. Accepting a job there was a mistake.
Travis
Yep. I’ve reached an all-time low. I came into work early so I could view the security tape from the camera that records our parking lot.
I saw when Clay dropped off Becca last night. At least she didn’t stay with him, but seeing her arms wrapped around his waist still makes me want to hurt someone.
I also want to steal her away once she arrives and show her how much better I could make her feel. She probably thinks because he’s older and comes from wealth that he can give her a more secure life, but money isn’t everything.
Becca has always wanted to travel the world, but she’s not the kind of woman who’d want a sugar daddy. I know her. She wants to make a career for herself. It’s important to her to show her sister and parents she can be responsible and independent.
She’s not snooty, either. She’s a down-to-earth girl. My down-to-earth girl. Torturing myself, I replay the footage one more time. I want to vomit when I watch him kiss the top of her head. It’s too intimate. God, have they had sex? I have to know.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Franklin says
. I spin around and block the small TV that shows Becca and Clay. “I knew you weren’t yourself when it came to that girl, but I had no idea you were this obsessed.”
“I’m looking out for her. I needed to know she made it home OK.”
“No, you had to see if Becca slept over at Clay Carlton’s place.”
Sighing, I turn and shut off the screen.
“I had to know,” I reply without facing him.
“The way you’ve often used and disposed of women, I never thought I’d see a day when you’re officially a stalker.”
“Shut up, and for the record, Becca is not like those other women. She’s special.”
“I’m gonna go get the place ready to open, and if I were you, I would get out of here before one of your brothers figures out what you’re doing.”
Becca
I suck in a long breath before I swing open the door at Casteel. My eyes dart to the right, and there stands Travis behind the counter. Luckily, he’s waiting on a customer, so I stare ahead and march to the back of the store.
I get my computer turned on and pull up a design I’ve been working on to help advertise the airbrushing service the company offers.
There’s a tap on my door, and it’s Franklin. He looks toward the front of the hallway and back to me.
“Can I come in?” he asks. His grey eyes are wide as he glances again toward the door that leads into the store.
“Sure.” He’s quick as he steps in and closes the door behind him. A hand brushes over his sandy hair, and I’m waiting to hear what he’s so nervous about.
“I don’t want Travis to know I’m back here.”
“That means you’re wanting to discuss him with me.” I lean back in my chair and cross my arms.
“Yeah, I do. Look, I like you, Becca. I always have. You and Travis were good together, and he was the best I’d ever seen him once you came into his life.”
“But …”
“He’s not stable yet. He can’t take seeing you with another man. It’s too soon. Hell, it might never be OK, but what I’m getting at is it was low of you to have Clay show up here on Travis’s first day back to work.”
Fail to Trust (The Casteel Trust Series Book 2) Page 12