by Nikki Chase
"I have my reasons."
"Oh, boy." He half-sighs, half-chuckles into the phone. "If I didn't know you any better, I'd say this is about a girl."
"Just get it done," I say flatly.
"It is about a girl, isn't it?" James laughs. "Another thing I never thought I'd see in my lifetime.”
"Let me know when it's all done."
"Not in the mood for a chat, are we? You know, girls like it when you chat with them. Are you chattier when you're with her, Cole?"
"I don't remember hiring you as my shrink. I’ll wait to hear your news on Tuesday. Bye, James."
"Alright, alright," he says. "Bye now."
I like James. He's a good accountant and I usually wouldn't mind having a chat with him, but this is not the time.
Everything important in my life now hangs on the line. I wish I could fast forward to next week when everything would've been done.
But for now, I have a date with Emily. I have no idea if she’ll still hang around when I come out the other side, so I have every intention of making the most of this time.
“What do you think?”
“You want to know what I really think?” Emily covers her full mouth with one hand. “I think it’s delicious. Better than I expected, for sure. But I also think you didn’t really cook this yourself.”
“You got me.” I laugh. “Am I really that transparent?”
“Not really. You’ve done some pretty unpredictable things. But I just don’t peg you as a cook.” She cuts off a small bit of the veal and takes a bite. “Also, the fact that each portion was separated individually into nice little microwavable packages… That was a big clue.”
“Damn it. I’ll have to talk to the guy about this,” I say in mock frustration. I don’t care if she knows all my tricks. She looks like she’s enjoying herself and that’s all that matters.
“Who’s this guy anyway? He just goes into people’s homes and prepares their date night meals, like some sort of culinary ninja wingman?”
“Exactly.” I have to laugh at that.
She’s funny. I love how she comes up with witty, zany things to say, even if they’re often jabs at me. The supermodels that I used to go out with treated me with kid gloves, always so afraid I was going to dump them if they said the wrong thing and offended me. Nothing was real about those relationships.
I have to admit, it was an ego boost at first, scoring those very desirable women. It meant I had beaten a lot of competition. Somehow I found it helped with my work at the office. It gave me the confidence that I needed as a young man in my twenties to run an office full of people much older and much more experienced than me.
“His job title is personal chef, but from now on I’m going to call him my culinary ninja wingman.” I raise the fork to my mouth and take a bite. Emily’s right — this veal is too good for me to have cooked it myself. “I just wanted to make sure my offer was good enough to lure you here into my lair.”
“No kidding,” she says. “Home-cooked meal and a massage? I would’ve said yes if you offered just one of them.”
“Damn. Really? I shouldn’t have tried so hard. But what can I say? I really wanted you to come. I missed you.”
“We just saw each other on Wednesday when we flew home together.” She protests with her words, but her eyes are twinkling.
She’s right. But not only did I not see her yesterday, today I also had to wait until after office hours to take her home so nobody would see us together. I can’t wait until we get everything out in the open. I smile at her and say, “I didn’t see you in the office yesterday, though.”
“You were the one who told me to stay home and rest because the flight on Wednesday was so late, you weirdo.” She laughs, then narrows her eyes at me. “You need to give your employees some down time, Mr. Foster. Otherwise, I’m going to have to report you to the authorities for working me to death.”
“Don’t call me Mr. Foster. I’m not my father.” I surprise myself by how cold I sound.
Emily seems taken aback, but she quickly recovers and changes the subject. “So now I see the home-cooked meal is a big fat lie. Should I prepare myself to be disappointed by the massage as well?”
“I promise you, that one is a legit offer.” I smile at her, grateful she’s overlooking my sudden change in demeanor.
“Really? You’re not outsourcing that to a professional masseuse as well?” She sighs. “To be honest, I’m already disappointed.”
“Ha-ha. You say that now, but wait until you try it. You’ll be singing a different tune.”
“Well, I’m done with the meal. When can we get started on that massage?”
“Soon.” I stack her empty plate on top of mine and put them in the sink. Nora, my housekeeper, can deal with those tomorrow.
I take Emily’s hand and pull her toward the bedroom. We watch an old episode of Friends on the TV while we cuddle under the blanket. This is nice.
I’ve had many girls in my bed before, but I never let them stay long enough for us to have a nice, quiet moment like this. I never liked them enough for something like this to be enjoyable anyway.
“Emily.” I wait for her to look at me before I continue. “I can really get used to this.”
“Me too, Cole.” She smiles.
I detect a hint of sadness in her eyes, but I decide to not spoil the moment by asking questions that will only make her sad. I can’t bring that up with her, not if I want to keep things under wraps until next week.
“Ready for your massage?” I ask.
“Are you kidding? I’m always ready for a massage.” Her smile grows wider. I’m glad my little distraction trick works.
I get Emily to lie down on her belly and remove her top while I light a couple of candles on the nightstands. I unhook her bra and she slips it off, throwing it off the bed along with her work blouse. I pour some massage oil onto my hands and rub them together to warm it up.
Looking at Emily’s bare back, I can’t help but feel my lust roaring to the surface. The natural curve of her spine, the glow of her skin in the flickering candlelight, the sexy little smile on her face — I want to climb on top of her and have my way with her.
But that’ll have to wait. Emily expects a massage, so that’s what she’s getting.
I place my oiled palms on her back and start to knead her flesh. Her skin is so soft, so perfect. I can do this for hours, except her soft moans make me want to touch her in a different way, a way that makes her moan louder and scream my name. As difficult as it is, I try to focus on the task even as my cock grows hard as a rock in my pants.
“I bet it feels extra good here.” I press my thumb on a muscle knot and hear her moan happily.
“You’re really good with your hands.” She sighs with a big smile on her face.
“You’ve only just figured that out now?” I tease her, reminding her of the many ways my hands pleasured her body while we were in the hotel in Seattle.
“Not really,” she says. She has her eyes closed as she enjoys the massage.
“Feel better now? The knot is gone.”
“Mm-hmm. I feel much better,” she says softly.
“I’m glad at least the massage isn’t disappointing.”
I continue working her back quietly, letting her relax while I admire her soft feminine curves. I move down to her feet, then I take off her skirt while my hands travel up her legs and thighs.
Her moans grow louder when I touch her inner thighs. Fuck. It’s taking all my willpower to not go further up. Before I start to slip up, I end the massage by making another run across her back and lying down beside her.
“How was that?” I ask.
“Amazing. Thanks.” Her eyes remain closed while she smiles. “Why did you stop?”
“I could continue, but it wouldn’t be a massage anymore.” I move closer so she can feel the hard cock in my pants on her bare thigh.
“I wouldn’t mind that.” She opens her eyes to look at me. Turning onto her s
ide to face me, she places her hand on my cheek and kisses me with so much heat and passion I feel like we’re melting together into one. The sexual chemistry in the air is so potent it could wake the dead. I guess I wasn’t the only one who was turned on by the massage.
I push her onto her back and climb on top of her. She closes her eyes as I suckle on the flesh of her throat. She moans, telling me wordlessly that she wants me. Her hand slides down my body until she finds the bulge straining my pants and strokes it with her delicate fingers. I grunt and suck in a deep breath. As if I need any more encouragement to take her hot, irresistible body.
I don’t think I’ve ever taken my clothes off any faster. The way she’s looking at me, with her lips parted and her eyes wide… I can’t keep her waiting. I don’t want to keep her waiting.
Her nipples have turned into hard little pebbles. I lean down and kiss her perky breasts, moving up to the peaks. I take one nipple into my mouth and watch her head roll back. Her breaths come in small pants as my fingers tease her through the thin fabric of her black lacy panties, her eyes looking into mine pleadingly.
That’s it. I can’t hold myself back any longer. I pull her panties off.
“Your panties are soaked through.” I hold up the panties for her to see and watch her blush. Fuck, she’s adorable. I want to claim her body again and again until she’s spent.
Her fingernails drag up my back. Her hips fly off the bed, as if begging me to plunge into her. Eager to oblige, I press the tip of my cock against her slit.
I look at her face as I slowly push inside, watching every little nuance of her facial expression. When I’m all the way in, she grinds herself against me, pushing me just a little deeper inside. She moans. I’m so deep inside her there’s no way I can possibly fill her slender body any further.
I plunge my cock in and out of her, her muscles clenching around me, massaging my cock, fitting so snugly she feels like a silken, skin-tight glove. She wraps her legs around me and pumps up to meet my thrusts. I start to fuck her harder and deeper.
I grab her hair to keep her in place and slam into her, over and over again. Her body shakes and her lips part as she cries out my name, as if she’s urging me on.
“Say my name again,” I groan in her ear.
“Cole,” she moans. “God, you feel so good inside me.”
With that, I unleash all the arousal that’s been building up inside me and watch her tits rock back and forth. I pound her hard, the way I know she needs to be fucked. I can feel the cum boiling inside my balls. I reach down and roll her clit in circles, making her gasp in frantic pleasure. She squeezes her eyes shut, her beautiful face scrunched up in ecstasy.
It’s not long until she explodes beneath me, her muscles milking me for all I’m worth. She’s moaning and breathing erratically, her entire body shaking like she’s a woman possessed. I growl as I let go. She grabs onto the pillow, her mouth wide open in a silent scream as I shoot every last drop of my cum deep inside her.
We lie still like that for a while, neither one of us wanting to let go, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking. I stroke her hair. Our breaths slowly grow deeper, more regular. I pull out when she excuses herself to go clean up.
“You look great in that.” I lean back against the headboard with my hands interlaced behind my head.
Emily smiles as she closes the door of the walk-in wardrobe behind her, showing me the tantalizing curve of her ass, covered only by a pair of black lacy panties. She’s wearing my old Harvard T-shirt. It’s strange how something as insignificant as an old shirt can make me feel like she’s all mine. This sexy girl with her smooth, bare legs in my room is mine.
She climbs into bed and I slide closer. Suddenly my queen-sized bed feels too big. I pull her waist closer. I stroke her stomach, her hips, her thighs. I want to learn the tiniest details about her body and store them in my memory.
There’s a good chance she’s not going to let me ever get close to her ever again when she finds out what I’ve done. I feel like such a fuck-up for hiding this from her, but I can’t tell her now.
I can’t have her panicking. I’ll keep her close where she’s safe and I’ll tell her when my plan is ready.
I should’ve been more careful in Seattle. We didn’t flaunt our closeness in the conference hall, but anybody could’ve seen us come in and out of the same hotel room. It’s very possible they already know about us.
I need to put all the pieces in place so we’ll have options at least, before I tell her. Otherwise, I’ll just scare her and make her feel trapped.
Emily turns onto her side and reaches toward the nightstand to grab the phone, the one I gave her in Seattle.
Good job covering all the bases, man, I scold myself.
I’ve totally forgotten about the location tracker on that phone.
I’ve been too careless. There are too many moving parts for me to manage. And unfortunately, I’m not exactly in my best condition, being so distracted by Emily and nervous from having to suddenly carry out my emergency plan.
Shit. I need to seriously step up my game.
“We should get you a new phone,” I say.
“What do you mean ‘we’?”
“Technically you lost it due to a business trip, so the company should reimburse you for the loss.” I place my palms against her flat belly and pull her close. I nuzzle her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.
“Are you just saying that so you can buy me stuff?” She reaches one hand behind her, resting her fingers on the back of my neck.
“Maybe.” I sigh when she starts stroking my skin.
“I don’t need a sugar daddy, Cole,” she says. “I’ll buy it myself, but you can come with me.”
“Okay.”
“Maybe we can also meet with my sister at the mall? She’s always worried about me and I’m sure it’ll make her feel better if she gets to know you.”
Damn it, it’s just one problem after another.
A part of me wishes I could just tell Emily already so I can get this over and done with and I don’t have to constantly feel like there’s a sword hanging over my neck.
Another part of me wishes I never have to tell her so she’ll always look at me the same way. It kills me to think she’ll probably never look at me that way ever again after Tuesday.
Maybe we can survive this, if I deliver the news at the right time, in the right way. But I’m not naive enough to believe that one-hundred percent.
After all, is there ever a good time or a good way to tell the girl you love that you killed her boyfriend?
19
Emily
“Cole?” I ask after a few silent seconds.
“Do you really think we're ready for that?” His voice is soft, like he doesn’t want to let me down. But that's not the answer I was hoping for.
Cole has been telling me he has genuine feelings about me and he wants to make this relationship work. But if he doesn't want to meet Alice, then I’ll know everything I need to know about his intentions.
The message from Alice that I just got on my phone simply says: “We need to talk.”
“Yes, Cole.” I say. “My sister is my only family and she's always worried about me. I think it’ll really make her feel better if she meets you and gets to know you.”
I haven't told Alice about Cole. I know, I know. I should’ve told her. But I haven't had a chance to just sit down and chat with her.
Even though we live together, she works all the time and she's only around either very early in the morning or very late at night.
I stayed home all day yesterday, but I spent the whole time sleeping like a log. I was exhausted after all the work I’d done preparing and actually doing the presentation. Also, I spent a lot of time in Seattle not sleeping and doing other things with Cole instead.
I guess the fact that I’m not home this late at night, combined with my using a strange phone number, makes Alice panic a little bit. I mean, she usually freaks out eve
n when nothing has happened.
I’ve been worried about how she's going to react, especially considering her frantic phone call on my way to the airport when she told me to not sleep with my boss.
And then I went and did just that.
Cole’s grip around my body tightens. It feels good. It brings me back to the present, reminding me I’m in the bed of a gorgeous man whom I’m really starting to fall for.
“If it's really that important to you...” He doesn't sound too enthusiastic, but I guess meeting the family is just one of those things that most people see as a chore.
“It is important to me. When she's worried she spams my phone and I’d rather not deal with that every time I stay the night here.”
“Every time you stay the night here? Sounds like you're planning to do it quite a lot. I like the sound of that.”
“I won't stay here much if it freaks Alice out every time,” I say, trying to keep the conversation on track.
“You two must be really close,” he says softly.
“We are. She's helped me through so much.” I sigh. This is going to be a pretty long story, but if Cole's really going to stick around then he deserves to know the truth. “My dad left not long after I was born and my mom, well, she didn't do a good job of raising us. So Alice had to raise herself, and take care of me as well. As soon as she turned eighteen, she moved out and took me with her. My mom never so much as tried to look for me.”
Cole remains silent, but his hand is gently stroking my head. It feels comforting.
“That was ten years ago.” My voice starts to crack, but I keep going. “I moved out to my own place but after a...personal tragedy, I had to move back in with Alice. She's my rock.”
I can't bring myself to tell Cole about Scott.
I’ve always hated bringing up exes to new partners, but this is on a whole other level of awkward. Scott is definitely not an ex. I would've happily spent the rest of my life with him if he didn't pass away so suddenly in a tragic accident. I could never bring myself to leave him.
How do you bring up a dead guy you still love to a new guy? And while you're still in his bed after having mind-blowing sex, no less?