by Lisa Suzanne
“Finished,” she said, grinning as she collapsed on the couch next to me.
“Good work,” I said, squeezing her thigh under my palm.
“Thanks. Ready for bed?” she asked.
We both got ready for bed, and then I found my side of the bed and she snuggled into me. She was on her side, one arm thrown over my waist and the other propped under her head, her leg thrown over mine, and I was on my back, one arm underneath her and wrapped around her shoulder, and the other stretched behind my head.
“H. It’s your turn,” she said.
“I have two H questions.”
“Go for it.”
“Height?”
She giggled. “I’m five feet three inches tall.”
“I’m six-four.”
“I knew you were tall; I just didn’t realize you were that tall.”
“You fit perfectly into me. It’s like our bodies were made for each other.”
She grinned. “What’s your other H?”
“Hobbies?”
“Reading, walking on the beach. Girly things like shopping for handbags and shoes. You?”
“Sex with you. That’s my favorite hobby.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve got a one-track mind.”
“No arguments here.” I grinned wickedly at her, and she smiled back, looking like she was about ready to give in.
“Stop it,” she advised. “I’m working hard to be strong.”
“Baby, let’s not deny ourselves what we both really want.”
She leaned over and kissed me. “One night. We can do this. Tell me your other hobbies.”
“Aside from sex with you?”
She nodded and giggled.
“Sports. I dig anything sports-related. And, I guess I would say my other hobbies have a lot to do with my career. Sketching, traveling, checking out buildings, that kind of thing. Seeing new things.”
“I also love to travel. Where’s somewhere cool you have been?”
“I went to London when I was in college.”
“Ooh, I bet there were lots of cool old buildings there.”
“Yep,” I confirmed. “Tons of them. And my research has shown me I’d love to go to Barcelona someday, or to Rome, or to Paris or Beijing or Athens. All amazing cities with incredible architecture.”
“I’ve never been out of the country, with the exception of Tijuana, Mexico.”
“Go to Barcelona with me.”
“Right.”
“Okay, then Rome? Paris?”
She giggled. “I don’t even have a passport.”
“Then let’s get you one.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Gorgeous, it is easy. We’ve got the rest of our lives together to see the world.”
“Okay,” she giggled. “Let’s start with Paris.”
“Deal.” Maybe she was kidding, but I wasn’t. I started thinking about a trip to Paris with the sexy woman lying next to me. Nothing would make me happier than bringing her to a city known for its romance.
Someday we would do it.
“I,” she said. “Instruments? Do you play any?”
“Not well. I think I learned to play the recorder in eighth grade music class like every other kid in America. I took a handful of guitar lessons, but I never really learned how to play. You?”
“I play the piano, and I love to sing.”
“You sing?” She constantly surprised me. I loved listening to her talk, but I had no idea that she sang. I wondered what her voice sounded like. “Sing something for me.”
She shook her head.
“Come on,” I goaded.
“I need music. Tomorrow maybe.”
“Okay. Tomorrow. But I’m not letting you off the hook.”
“Do J, and then let’s go to sleep,” she said.
“J was for joke, and I gave you my best one.”
“The math problem one?”
I grinned. “Did it make you laugh?”
“If I’m being honest, yes, it did. I was so angry at you, but you still managed to make me laugh.”
“Good. It always makes me laugh.”
“I have one that always makes me laugh, too,” she said.
“Let’s hear it.”
“It’s dirty,” she warned.
“Good.”
“What do you get when you cross a penis and a potato?”
I shrugged.
“A dictator.” She giggled as she said the punch line.
I laughed along with her. “That’s pretty good.”
“Your turn.”
“I used my best one on you already.”
“Give me another one. A dirty one.” Her eyes glinted wickedly.
“What goes in hard and rigid, but comes out soft and squishy?”
She shrugged and blushed a little at the raunchiness.
“Bubblegum. What were you thinking?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, pervert. And for the record, I probably do want to know.”
She giggled and swatted my arm playfully. “Ready for sleep?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No. I’m ready to have sex with you, though,” I smiled hopefully.
“Goodnight, Tiger,” she said, kissing my lips gently and ignoring my request.
I thought it would take me forever to fall asleep and I figured I’d have a hard time staying asleep, but I found that with Lindsay in my arms, every night was the greatest night’s sleep.
So as I lay post-orgasm with every inch of Lindsay’s body covered by mine, I thought about Paris. I wanted to take her to Paris. It seemed strange to be making such huge plans so early on in our relationship, but I thought how fun it would be to travel with her. And then I was struck with the thought that maybe we could take a shorter trip somewhere closer to home. An idea formed in my head, and suddenly I was very excited.
CHAPTER 17
I finally summoned the strength to get up, and I took a quick shower. While Lindsay showered, I brewed a pot of coffee and poured us some cereal I found in the pantry. After she was done getting ready, looking incredible in a black dress, I had served her up my gourmet cereal and then she dropped me at my apartment so I could get my car, eat some cheese (which I was going to have to start stocking in Lindsay’s fridge, along with Dr. Pepper), and get to work.
It was Thursday morning, which meant I had a meeting with the other designers on my floor for the multi-tainment center. That also meant I’d have to face Spencer. I dreaded going to work, but the sooner we got this over with, the better. It was out in the open now, so I didn’t feel the need to hide anything, and as bad as I felt, I knew that Spencer finding out had to happen. The way it happened sucked, but it was done.
I tracked Dan down in his office before the meeting to fill him in on what happened, but he wasn’t there. I was the first arrival to the conference room, and slowly everyone trickled in; Melissa came in first, followed by Brendon and Dan. But still no sign of Spencer. Craig sauntered in, and then Dan started the meeting by saying, “Has anyone seen Spencer this morning?”
Dan glanced over at me, and my eyes widened. Shit. I needed tell him what had happened; surely Dan could check on Spencer to make sure everything was okay.
Just then, the door to the conference room opened and Spencer walked in. I expected him to look like shit, but he looked totally normal. He took the last open seat and Dan started the meeting.
Spencer managed to cause some huge problems during the meeting. Typically we all looked to him as the authority in retail zoning laws and codes, and that day, he shot down every idea I put out there during the meeting, citing some law or twisting the language to make it so that my idea wouldn’t work. I was getting more and more frustrated as the meeting progressed, but there was nothing I could do short of punching him in the face. Dan took the lead and made all final decisions, but it was strange to find myself arguing over petty issues that should have had easy solutions.<
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My cell phone buzzed with a text. I glanced at my phone and saw that it was from Lindsay. We were fairly casual at our meetings, and everyone was always on their phones, so I opened the text. K for Kink. What kind of kinky sex is your favorite?
Jesus.
I choked on my own tongue, coughing as if I was going to hack up a lung.
“You okay, man?” Dan asked.
I nodded and grabbed my coffee and took a big gulp to stop the coughing, finding that it was still scalding hot and burning the shit out of my tongue.
Lindsay and I were going to have to have a chat about texting etiquette during the work day.
I replied: I refuse to answer that while I’m at work in a meeting with your ex.
Fine. K For Kids. How many do you want?
That question was more manageable, although it still involved the thought of banging Lindsay. 3 someday. A long, long, long way away.
Mark it in the common interests column.
Really? You want 3?
If it’s with you, I could probably manage more. I can’t even stand the thought of how cute our kids would be with your adorable nose and brown eyes and perfect smile.
I felt my face getting hot. I was in the middle of a goddamn meeting, my face reddening at her words. What this woman did to me. Those perfect teeth cost my parents a shitload of money, I replied.
She replied with a smiley face. :) Worth every penny. See you later.
She was adorable. She knew just the right way to leave me wanting more every single time. I wished our texting conversation could have lasted the rest of the afternoon, but I had work to do, and texting Lindsay with her ex staring me down from across the table was straight up awkward.
After the meeting, I checked my email and remembered that I never replied to Jules. Just when I pulled open her email on my computer, Dan walked into my office, completely distracting me.
“What’s going on with Spencer?” he asked me.
“Shut the door,” I said. The last thing I needed was everyone at the office gossiping about what had gone down.
He shut the door and then took a seat in one of the two chairs across from me and looked at me expectantly.
“When Lindsay and I pulled up to her place last night, Spencer was sitting there on her porch waiting for her.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. I was driving her car, so I couldn’t exactly just drop her off and head out. She told him everything.”
“Everything?”
“She told him things she hasn’t told me yet.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t think she realized I was standing behind her, but she told him that she had fallen in love with me.”
His eyebrows rose.
I pressed my lips into a thin line, drumming my fingers on the desk.
“And?”
“And what?” I asked, confused.
“And are you in love with her?”
I looked down at some papers spread on my desk for a few seconds, shuffling them around, and then I looked back up at Dan. I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips and sighed. “Yes. Completely.”
“Good for you, man. Sucks for Spence, but he’ll be okay.”
“Will he be?”
He shrugged. “He just found out last night?”
I nodded.
“He just needs some time. Have you told her?”
“That I love her?”
He nodded.
“No, not yet,” I admitted. “I’m waiting for the right moment.”
“Another question, but this one’s roommate to roommate.”
I glanced up at him, brows up.
“What was with Julianne visiting?”
“Fuck, I don’t even know. Listen to this email from her.” I read him the email that sat open on my computer.
“So what does she want?”
“Hell if I know. The one thing I do know is that her fiancé is furious with her for coming to see me, but she did it anyway. And then this fucking email, telling me how confused she is and how she doesn’t know what to do. I’ll tell you what she needs to do. She needs to just go back to her corner, lick her wounds, and be happy with Nick. It’s over with us because I’ve moved on. And I realized in moving on that what I have with Lindsay is so much deeper than what I ever felt for Jules.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“Jules or Lindsay?”
“Either.”
I shrugged. “Lindsay knows how I feel about her. I don’t know what to say to Jules without sounding like a complete dick.”
“Let’s talk about it over lunch. You ready?” he asked.
I nodded, and we headed out to eat.
At lunch, Dan had helped me figure out what to say to Julianne. He was a good friend, listening to me constantly bitch like a pussy about my love life. I had always known he was a good guy, but moving to San Diego had shown me just how much I valued his friendship.
When I returned to my office from lunch, I headed for my desk chair so I could reply to Julianne’s email. I always pushed my chair in when I left my office; I was meticulous about keeping my office neat and tidy, but my chair was pointed sideways, like someone had been sitting in it and got up quickly to leave. My brows knit together in confusion as I tried to recall whether or not I’d pushed my chair in, but I figured I’d left in a hurry and just forgot.
I sat in my chair and looked at my computer, prepared to reply to the email. I noticed that my computer hadn’t gone into sleep mode, even though I’d been at lunch for nearly an hour. I thought that was strange, but when I looked at my screen, I was met with an unsettling feeling. I had left with that email from Julianne on the screen, but now my personal email was closed. What the fuck? Had someone read my personal email? Who had been in my office?
My phone buzzed with a text. It was from Lindsay.
I can’t stay on this roller coaster with you anymore. Your decision is clear. It was fun while it lasted.
What the hell had happened when I was out to lunch? I was beyond confused.
What are you talking about? I texted back.
If you two are so in love, why are you bothering with me?
I repeat: What are you talking about?
I saw the email. Jealous Lindsay was back with a vengeance. Fuck. And apparently she had seen Julianne’s email to me. But when? Was she the one who had been in my office?
I sent another text. Two questions: 1. Why are you getting mad over an email someone else sent to me? and 2. Why were you reading my email?
I dialed her number. I didn’t want to do this over text message. She ignored my call, so I fired off another text. Please talk to me. I’m not letting you fuck this up.
I dialed her number again, refusing to give up. She ignored it again.
Lindsay. PICK UP. Now I was getting frustrated and a little panicked.
I dialed once more, and she ignored it for a third time.
I sighed deeply in utter aggravation. As much as I loved this woman, she drove me fucking insane at the exact same time.
I needed to write Julianne back, but I didn’t have the energy when I had to worry about fixing things with Lindsay yet again.
This was just another sign showing exactly how deep I was in with her. In any other relationship in my past, aside from Jules, I never, ever would’ve worked this hard for a woman. But Lindsay was worth it. She was my future, and as irritated as I was that she wasn’t picking up and she wasn’t talking to me, I had every confidence that we would make it past this, too. It was just an email from Julianne. I couldn’t control what she sent me any more than I could control the weather.
But I also couldn’t fix things when Lindsay wasn’t talking to me.
I texted her one more time: Why are you getting so mad over Julianne’s email?
I reread it; it wasn’t really anything that bad. Jules missed me, and it seemed to me like she was turning to her friend. I supposed there were some undertones in there that indicated tha
t she missed me as more than her friend, but it also talked about Nick and how happy she was with him. Why would Lindsay be angry over that?
She didn’t text me back, and I got back to work. I headed home at my usual time and solidified my plans for this weekend. It was a fairly sweeping romantic gesture, and I just hoped that it would work out the way I had planned it.
But first, I had to figure out what the hell she was so mad about.
I texted her again. I’m coming over.
Her reply was almost instantaneous: Don’t bother.
Why not? What is going on with you?
Your fucking email, Travis.
I still don’t understand why you’re so upset over an email.
You’re really fucking dense.
What the fuck was she talking about?
I dialed her number, and she ignored my call. But she did text me: I really don’t want to talk to you. Give it up and leave me the hell alone.
There was no way in hell I was going to leave her alone.
I got in my car and drove over to her place. Her car was in the driveway, so I walked up to the door and knocked.
Pen answered, looking sultry in a low cut black shirt and jeans. “She’s not interested, Travis,” Pen greeted me rather loudly, most likely for Lindsay’s benefit.
“I don’t even know what I did wrong,” I said. I had moved from slightly panicked to very panicked, insane with frustration, with an overwhelming fear that Lindsay was really, really angry. I didn’t know why or what to do to fix it. I was really at a loss.
“She’s right. You’re really fucking dense,” Pen said, quoting the text Lindsay had just sent me.
I was bewildered. “Will you just tell me what the fuck I did wrong?”
“The email.”
“The one from Julianne?”
“No. The one to Julianne.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You copied Lindsay on the email you sent to Julianne.”
What? “I didn’t send an email to Julianne.”
“Yes, you did. You sent it to Julianne and BCCed Lindsay’s Gmail address.”
It suddenly clicked in my brain.
I didn’t have Lindsay’s Gmail address. I had her work email, not her personal email.