by Kyle Autumn
Wait. What the fuck? That is not how I think. I’d fuck every hour of every day if my body could keep up with it, but it can’t. And I certainly wouldn’t do it with the same woman every hour of every day. Right? Why in the world does this woman have me thinking otherwise? Shit. Fuck. Pump the damn brakes here.
But no. I have to have her. This woman needs to be mine like I need my next breath. Then I remember who I spent the night with last night and what we did together. And that’s why I pump the brakes on the situation. Because, if this woman is going to be mine, it won’t happen after I was just inside another woman. Fuck that.
I can’t keep up with my brain, so I pull back from her to end this kiss. We’re both panting, left breathless, as she’s holding on to my suit jacket and my shirt collar. Nose to nose, we catch our breath, her arms and her shoulders feeling small beneath my hands. Small and wonderful. And just right.
Goddamn my head right now. And that stuttering piece of shit I call my heart. What the fuck is happening to me?
Yet again, I don’t have much time to question it before her expression turns hard and her palm flies across my cheek. Good lord, I might fall in love with this woman. So I kiss her again, chastely, one last time on the lips before letting her go. She releases a deep exhale in a rush and stomps around me. So I turn around to watch her go.
At my door, she stops, faces me, and points. “Seriously. Stay the fuck out of their lives. And, well, mine too if you can’t finish what you start!” Then she smooths her hair down, spins around, and flounces out of my office.
But not out of my life, if I have anything to say about it.
Chapter 2
Blake
The second she has left my office, I get to doing what I do best. Well, second best, anyway. I attempt to track her information down. However, I realize she never said her name. I think about calling Chaz, but he hung up on me last night, so that’s not a good idea—even though it’d be worth whatever shit he would put me through. Instead, I decide to go on about my day like normal. I already decided that I can’t fuck her today, so it makes no sense to dwell on it. Except, for some shitty reason, I can’t not dwell on it.
The image of her pressed against my desk has my dick harder than a motherfucker. The prickly sting I can still feel on my cheek makes it impossibly harder. And the impression her lips left on mine? Yep. Harder still. My rock-hard cock might break off in a second. Holy shit. Maybe I can’t go about my day like normal. Nothing in my life will ever be normal again because of this woman.
Seriously. What the hell was that shit about? Since when have I ever thought those things about a woman? About forever? About caring who I fuck and when? All of this bullshit about Chaz and his fake engagement is getting to me.
Speaking of… Chaz comes into my office and sits in one of the chairs on the visitor’s side of my desk. “Hey. I was thinking about—wait. Why is the left side of your face all red?”
“What were you thinking about?” I ask, ignoring his question as my dick thankfully deflates from his presence.
He raises an eyebrow. “Does this have anything to do with the ‘friend’ you were with last night?”
Before I can lie, I shake my head.
Luckily, he holds a hand up and says, “You know, I don’t even want to know anymore.”
I look at him closely. He appears disheveled. Not as well put together as he usually does. Which makes sense, considering the long night he likely had. He called me so late, and when he did, he was at Shiree’s empty house. Panicking. So it’s not surprising that he looks like shit today.
“You look like shit today,” I tell him then type my password in.
He throws his hands out to his sides. “You think? I had a shit night. And I’ve had a shit morning. Of course I look like shit. It fits the part.”
When my screen pops up, I sit back in my chair and focus on my friend. “So, she never came home?”
He shakes his head and then, putting his elbow on the armrest, rests it in his palm. “No.”
I crack a grin to lighten the mood. “And you’re not still mad at me?”
Now, he looks up at me. “Can we move the fuck on? I have bigger, more pressing matters to attend to.”
So I settle in, resting my elbows on my armrests and linking my fingers together. “What have I told you? She’ll be there tonight.”
“I know,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’ve already said it. But I’m still fucking frustrated about everything from last night. I slept, but I sure as fuck don’t feel like it. This woman has me in fucking knots.”
I almost tell him about how a certain woman currently has me in knots too, but I manage to think better of it. He has his own shit to worry about right now, and I don’t have enough time in the world to figure it out right now. But still. If he’s not mad at me…
“Hey. Speaking of that woman. What’s her friend’s name?”
He hits me with a stare. “Why?”
Shit. I didn’t think this through. “Well,” I say, coming up with a lie. Then it hits me. “Next time you want me to track Shiree down, it might be helpful to know more about her. If she’s with her friend, I can find the friend if we can’t find Shiree.” I might be a genius. Or maybe I’m used to lying when it comes to the girls I take home. Whatever.
He pauses for a moment, appearing thoughtful. “Huh. Makes sense. Her name is Lyra… I guess I don’t know her last name.”
Bingo. “That’s all I need. I know where she works.”
“Great. That’ll help,” he says.
“Good. Are we done here, then? Everything’s fine. She’ll be there tonight and then you two can do whatever you want when it’s over.”
His eyebrow rises again. “Together. We’ll do it together.”
“Whatever you say, man.” I point to my computer. “Should I get back to what you pay me for?”
At that, he gets up. But, before he leaves, he says over his shoulder, “Fuck you.”
Too bad I could hear the laugh in his tone when he said it. I don’t take it seriously for a second.
What I do take seriously, though, is the way my heart races at the prospect of having her number in a matter of moments. Lyra. Even her name is angelic. It’ll roll nicely off my tongue when I’m buried inside her. And my name will do the same off hers when she’s coming on mine. Because it will happen.
For the life of me, though, I can’t understand why my brain and my heart answer with, Hopefully every day for the rest of your life.
***
Lyra
What in the hell was that? I literally cannot even right now. Never in my life have I experienced such…whatever the hell that shit was! I somehow managed to leave his office, but now that I’m in the elevator and away from other people, I’m about to have a panic attack. I can barely breathe, my chest is tight, and I’m so, so hot.
Okay, maybe it’s not a panic attack. Maybe it’s a heart attack. Or maybe, my brain says, this your body on lust. That guy, Blake, was super sexy, and the way his big, strong hands felt on you? Gimme more of—
“Shut the hell up!” I scream at myself just before the elevator doors open and a man steps inside.
He gives me a weird look, but he minds his own business the rest of the way down while I take deep breaths and flex and unflex the hand I smacked Blake with. Seriously. I went there to tell him off, not almost get him off! And that was definitely about to happen. I was going to let him fuck me on his desk. When did I become that kind of person?
As I walk to my delivery truck to make the rest of my rounds today, my brain chimes in again. When you met Blake. Duh.
My brain needs to get a life.
Why? Why did I almost let that happen? How did I get so drunk off…lust that I practically threw myself at him?
Maybe it’s due to the fact that you haven’t had sex in five months, twenty-eight days, nine hours, and forty-seven minutes, my stupid brain reminds me.
Yeah, that could be it. Even I have to ag
ree this time. It has been an awfully long time. But that’s what happens when you fall too hard and too fast. You get hurt. So you cut yourself off. No more sex until the relationship is serious. Until I know he’s sticking around and I won’t get hurt like that again. Stupid fucking Roger.
Nope. Not going to think about that shit all day. I have packages to deliver and a best friend to help tonight at her “engagement” party. Which, for her sake, I hope to god is real. If not, Patti, Zo, and I have a hell of a road ahead of us. Not as hard as Shiree’s will be, but I know from experience how tough it is to be that crushed. I know my best friend, so I know how crushed she’ll be if this isn’t what she’s hoping for.
Now that I’m thinking about Patti and Zo, I better make sure we’re all on for tonight. They said that they wouldn’t miss the party, but I am kind of a control freak and need to make sure. So, once I’m at my delivery stop, I call Zo.
“Hey,” she answers a little breathlessly. “Lyra. What’s up?”
“Oh, sorry. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
After a moment of silence, she says, “No, not at all,” a little too cheerfully. Then she giggles. “Stop!” she exclaims through a laugh, though it’s muffled and surely not for me.
Oh my goodness. Is she with someone?
“It’s totally a bad time,” I say. “I’ll just call you—”
“No, it’s fine!” she rushes out. “Seriously.” Then a door closes. “What’s going on?”
“Well,” I continue. Though I want to know what’s going on with her, she’ll tell me if she wants to. Realizing this has been a big part of my recovery. Not everything is my business. “I was calling to make sure you were going to be there tonight. I know you and Patti said—”
“Yep! We’ll be there.”
“Oh, okay. Both of you?” I question.
“Mmhmm. I just spoke with her,” she says a little hesitantly. “We talked about it. We’re going to get our dresses together soon, so I should go.”
I raise an eyebrow and look around the truck. This conversation has been rather weird, so I’m not sad she wants to end it now.
“Okay,” I tell her. “If you need anything, call me.”
“Will do!” Then she hangs up.
Uhh, okay, then. Bye, friend. I entertain the idea of calling Patti just in case, but I do need to let some of the control freak in me go. Zo said that she’d already talked to her, and they’re basically sisters attached at the hip, so it’s not necessary. I’ll think positive thoughts and everything will turn out fine tonight.
Except the part where I inevitably have to see Blake again…
Chapter 3
Lyra
“First of all, fuck you,” Chaz says through the phone to Blake. “Second, we’ll be at the party, but we’re gonna be late.” Then he heads outside to finish the phone call.
Works for me. The less I think about that ridiculous man, the better. He’s already taken up far too much of my day. Which is to say practically the whole thing. Nothing I did could get that kiss to stop replaying in my mind. That hot, steamy, sexy—stop! No. I was clearly out of my mind, and I already know I have to see him tonight. So I have to get it the hell together.
“You okay?” Shiree asks me as we head to her room to get dressed.
“Fine. Just a little distracted. But it’s fine.”
“You can tell me,” she says. “What are best friends for?”
“They’re apparently for being the only witness at your spontaneous wedding,” I tease, trying to shift the subject away from me. “You’re seriously lucky you two had this whole realization while the courthouse is still open.”
“And,” she says through some laughter, “we’re seriously lucky to have you with us. It’d be nice to have Patti and Zo here too, but I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side right now.” She holds her arms out for a hug.
Which I accept. I could certainly use one of those right now. But the mention of our two friends rings a bell in my head, so I pull back and say, “Hey, speaking of Patti and Zo—”
But I’m cut off by my phone when it rings in my bag. I dig inside to find it, and when I finally locate it, I see a number I don’t recognize. It’s never been saved in my phone, so I’m not sure who’s calling me. Curiosity gets the better of me though.
“One sec,” I say to Shiree as I hold a finger up. Then, into the phone, I say, “Hello?” and step outside of her room.
For a moment, no one says anything. So I check the screen to make sure the call connected. It did, so I repeat my greeting. Finally, the person on the other end clears their throat. Then the voice on the other end of the line has me stopping in my tracks.
Blake says, “Hey. I was, uh, calling to find out what’s going on with Chaz and Shiree.” He clears this throat again, which jolts me into action—I rush out the front door. “You know anything about that?”
I look at her house as a distraction from the heat rushing through my body. It doesn’t really work to keep the lust from zipping through my veins, but I can stay on task.
“Actually,” I tell him, “I’m with them right now. But I don’t think I should tell you what’s going on.”
“Oh really?” he replies. “He owns and runs the company I work for, and whatever he’s doing right now could tank the entire thing. I definitely think you should tell me what’s going on.”
I face the street again and will my voice to stay low. “Yeah, well, she’s my best friend and I’ve already told you to stay the hell out of their business.” I mostly succeed. But I have to unclench my teeth when I’m done speaking.
“I believe you told me to ‘stay the fuck out of their business,’ Lyra.”
Oh, what my name coming out of his mouth does to me. To a certain part of me, specifically. Oh shit.
“And I rather like the way that particular word sounds coming from you.”
I have to take a deep breath to keep myself from responding to that. Instead, once my head is a bit clearer, I steer the conversation in a different direction.
“Where did you get my number?” I ask. “I don’t know why I did what I did earlier, but I do know I didn’t give it to you.”
“No,” he says, perhaps a hint of disappointment in his voice—or maybe I’m reading too far into it. “You didn’t give it to me.”
At this point, I don’t know if he’s talking about my number or, well, it. But I don’t bother asking him to clarify. Instead, I say, “My number, Blake. Where did you get it?”
“It’s what I do. Find information about people,” he says simply.
My jaw drops. “That’s what you do at work?”
“That’s not all I do at work,” he clarifies.
“Still!” I shout.
Blake starts saying, “That’s how Chaz found Shiree at work when…” but I stop listening when the woman he’s talking about catches me outside.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, so I whirl around.
I smile big, nod, and mouth, “Yep.” Then I shoo her inside. Which, thankfully, she listens to and heads back in.
When I tune back in to the conversation, Blake’s silent.
“You there?” he asks. “If you won’t tell me what they’re doing, can you at least give me a heads-up on when they’ll be here?”
I shake my head to clear it a little. “Yeah,” I answer. “But I have to go. Don’t call me again.” Then I smash the End Call button, wishing it sounded as violent a gesture on his end too. That’s the drawback of these touchscreen cell phones though.
The drawback of ending that call that way? Leaving the ball in Blake’s court. Because we are going to see each other tonight, and now, he’s the one with the upper hand. Shit.
***
Blake
She fucking hung up on me. I can’t believe she did that. Even though it was rude as hell, a part of me loves it. That same part hopes that it isn’t the last time she does it. Because, as long as she’s hanging up, she’s still answering the phone. And tha
t same part wants—no, needs—her to keep answering the phone.
I won’t call her back right now though. Yes, I need to know what the hell is going on with Chaz, but I’ll leave her alone. There’s no reason to ruin my chances completely by risking upsetting her that much. Except that she’ll be here with them when they arrive, so it’s not like she can avoid me forever.
Plus, I explained everything about yesterday’s run-in with Shiree to Chaz. I really didn’t think Chaz was thinking straight, so I attempted to step in. That obviously went sideways. Shiree took my advice, but Chaz was actually serious about this woman. And Lyra thought she was serious too, so she stepped in.
So I can’t be that upset that I tried to get in the way. It brought that angelic woman into my life, which means there’s nothing in the world to be mad about. Except maybe for the fact that she’s not speaking to me right now. But hey. You win some, you lose some. I’ll win some later. My unwavering confidence can kick in any time now.
For the next two hours, I have to ward board members off and act like I’ve received telephone calls from Chaz that explain his absence. In reality, though, I have no idea. And I need control of this situation. So I do the one thing I was asked not to do. I call Lyra again.
She doesn’t answer, not that I thought she would. But I leave a quick voicemail message just in case she feels like being charitable.
“Everyone’s asking questions and I have nothing. Please. Throw me a bone here.”
I put my phone in my pocket and head back out to the room of waiting guests, but a minute later, my phone buzzes. I remove it from my pocket and check the screen. Lyra texted me. The angel.