Wreckless Engagement: The Russian Engagement Series
Page 15
“Hell, no this isn’t funny; it’s like a reality show,” she interjected with a silly grin.
“So, does ending your engagement with John mean Mr. Hotness wants a relationship?” she questioned.
“I honestly don’t know. I mean, there’s no way it could work anyway, we live in different states,” I reasoned.
I didn’t see how a relationship with Garland was even probable. That is, if that’s what he’d had in mind.
“But, he asked me to dinner this evening to discuss it, so I guess I’ll be finding out,” I told her.
“What do you want, Cam? Are you seriously considering breaking your engagement with John?” Marie asked.
It’s the same question I’d been asking myself. “I don’t know, maybe,” I hedged uncertainly. “The reality is, I’ve known Garland less than a week. That’s too brief a time to even think about something so serious,” I concluded.
“You should just admit you’re completely head-over-heels for the man, or deciding wouldn’t be so hard,” Marie said knowingly.
I rolled my eyes in annoyance. “If it's any consolation, Mr. Hotness seems just as into you or he wouldn’t have asked you to break your engagement. You’re leaving tomorrow, it’s an easy out for him,” she pointed out.
“I don’t disagree, I only worry that it might be all about sex for him,” I admitted.
“He must want something more than just sex. Besides, I know your kitty-cat can’t be that good,” Marie scoffed.
“My kitty-cat is that good, and I’ve got the battle scars to prove it,” I bragged immodestly.
“Battle scars? What in the hell have the two of you been doing, going to war?” she asked in amusement.
“Damn near. I’ve never had so much sex in so little time, or so many orgasms. We must have broken some kind of record,” I announced proudly.
“Damn, points for Mr. Hotness!” Marie declared, holding her palm in the air for a high-five. We slapped palms and giggled like teenagers.
“So, Mr. Hotness and John, no comparison?” she asked, in true Marie fashion. She always had sex on the brain.
“Honestly? No comparison. Garland makes John seem like an inexperienced college boy with no imagination. Seriously, you never know what you’ve been missing until you’ve had it,” I answered truthfully.
Marie let out a low whistle. “There’s no way you can go back to having sex with John now, you’d be forever dissatisfied,” she reasoned.
“Relationships are about more than just sex, Marie,” I chided.
She looked at me as if I’d lost it. “Bullshit, Cam! That’s why women always pass up the nice guys for the bad boys. We say we want a sensitive and thoughtful man, when what we really want is a man who will pull our hair and fuck our brains out,” she said emphatically.
I could only snort a laugh; knowing that she was right. Garland and John were two different kinds of lovers, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t currently addicted to Garland’s particular approach. What happened in his car last night was a good example of it.
“You know I’m right Cam. John is the nice guy, and Mr. Hotness is the bad boy, right? That’s the exact reason you’re sitting here talking about breaking things off with John, because the bad boy has your kitty on a leash,” she said as fact.
I said nothing at all, but simply let my satisfied smile do the speaking for me.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Marie said with a know-it-all smile. “I hope you know what you’re doing Cam; he who controls the kitty-cat controls you,” she warned with a wink.
I had a flashback of us talking about this stuff when we were younger, though, it was typically Marie giving me all the gritty details of her love life.
“Well, Garland’s awesome ability to make me orgasm isn’t the issue. I have no interest in becoming his plaything, no matter how good it is,” I said soberly.
Twenty-Two
Unbelievable. Garland had the entire section where we sat closed off to other patrons.
We arrived at the Italian restaurant about five minutes ago, and though there were other patrons seated where we’d entered, there was only the two of us on this side of the restaurant.
“That’s because I don’t want us disturbed,” Garland said when I remarked on it.
He said it as though it was completely normal to hijack an entire half of a restaurant to have a private conversation.
I guess that’s one way of managing it.
“Did you happen to see the local paper today?” I asked, once our server had taken our orders, and a glass of wine sat in front of me.
“Yes, I did, and that shouldn’t have happened. But even with the precautions I take, cameras still have far-reaching lenses,” he said in answer.
“Is that typical for you, being randomly photographed?” I quizzed.
I had no idea it was even a remote possibility.
“It happens occasionally. But most likely it was some photographer hanging out in Key West who seized an unexpected opportunity,” he said with an indifferent shrug.
“I guess I’m wondering why a photographer would want to photograph you, why you would warrant a mention in a local newspaper,” I clarified.
Garland regarded me across the table a moment, before smiling in what looked to be skeptical amusement. “Have you not yet internet searched me? Dare I believe it?” he asked.
I gaped in surprise. “Uh, no—I didn’t, should I have?” I asked in confusion.
“Yes, you probably should have, Camry, you’re far too trusting. I thought that was the first thing a woman did when meeting a man,” he said, starting to make me feel like an idiot.
“You clearly know more about that than I do,” I returned defensively. “I’m not in the habit of internet searching people I meet, so maybe that does make me naïve. But doesn’t that take all the fun out of getting to know a person?” I asked.
Was I really that naïve in my thinking? Besides, I doubt I’ve ever met anyone who was even Google-worthy, so it never even occurred to do so with Garland.
“You’ve a lot to learn, sweetheart, there are a lot of monsters out in the world,” he told me.
“What is it I should know about you; what will an internet search on you tell me?” I asked suspiciously, almost afraid of the answer.
He’d piqued my curiosity now; I guess I would be doing an internet search on him after this.
“There’s not much to find. As a local businessman, I’m involved with a couple of local charities as well as with some political circles. That sometimes creates interest,” he said nonchalantly.
His words were a sober reminder that I knew next to nothing about him. “Were the things printed in the newspaper media speculation, or accurate?” I inquired.
“Don’t believe everything you read, Camry, probably more than half of what’s printed is inaccurate. The media will always sensationalize to make a sale,” he told me.
I was well aware of the media’s reputation for printing or reporting inaccurate information. Any time a celebrity was seen with another person, they were automatically said to be in a relationship with him or her.
“Says the man who suggested I do Google searches on people I meet,” I quipped with much sarcasm.
“Smart-ass,” he returned.
“Is that why I suddenly found myself with an armed guard last night, because of the photo?” I asked.
It didn’t make sense last night, but I’d thought about it, and it made perfect sense now.
“Yes,” Garland answered, confirming it. “You were unfairly exposed to media scrutiny, I didn’t want you vulnerable,” he explained.
“But how did you even know about the photo, it wasn’t printed until this morning?” I questioned.
“Because the photographer who took it offered to sell it to me in exchange for not printing it. It’s standard paparazzi practice, and I never cower to blackmail,” he told me.
Wow. I felt as if I’d just fallen down the rabbit hole. Was th
is really his reality?
“I’m speechless,” I said, at a loss for words. He did warn me that security was part of his reality, now I knew why.
I lifted my wineglass to help me through the moment.
“You look stunning this evening, Camry, I’m now regretting not having arranged for dinner at my place. All I can think about is peeling that dress off of you,” Garland said with a wicked gleam in his eyes, changing the subject.
I wore a short black bodycon dress, with a cleavage-revealing neckline, and with a low dipping back that was held together by a gold zipper. The dress was sexy and daring, and not something I’d typically wear. But I let Marie talk me into buying it this afternoon for the express purpose of wearing this evening. Also, to get exactly the reaction I’d just gotten from the man sitting across from me.
“Thank you, wicked sex fiend,” I said with a pleased smile.
He gave me a wink in return. “What can I say? You bring out the fiend in me.”
We’re interrupted by the arrival of our salads, but as soon as the server had gone, Garland grew suddenly serious.
“I know my delivery last night was for shit; and unworthy of your consideration, but I meant what I said, Camry. I want you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to have you,” he told me.
There was that phrase again. I want you.
“You want me in what way?” I questioned.
“I want you in every way I can have you,” he answered.
“But you barely know me, how can you be so sure of something like that?” I countered.
“I’m not an indecisive man, I’ve always been certain of what I want. And when I found myself outside of your hotel last night instead of at my own home, I was positive I wanted you,” Garland told me.
Wow. I just sat staring at him, rendered momentarily speechless.
“You weren’t exactly over the moon about that fact,” I reminded him. He seemed less than enthusiastic about that particular revelation.
Garland considered me quietly, face impassive, before hitting me with a dose of brutal honesty.
“Before last Friday night, I had absolutely no desire to become involved with anyone. So, at the risk of sounding like a dick, I’ll admit that my only interest had been in getting you into my bed on Saturday night. The problem is, I’ve been trying to fuck you out of my system ever since, and it hasn’t worked,” he said bluntly.
Ouch. I didn’t know whether to be pleased or offended.
“That was quite the conundrum for me. You made me want things I shouldn’t, and regrettably, my response last night was less than ideal. I admit that I am in no way perfect, but I’m entirely clear on what I want. I guess the only question is, what do you want?” he asked me.
He wanted me to answer that now? Put on the spot with no immediate answer, I fidgeted uncomfortably.
How can I answer that now, make that kind of decision on the fly? I’ve known the man only four days, how can I be sure of anything in that short amount of time?
You were damn sure you wanted to have sex with him! My stupid conscience screamed.
Okay, I admit that I want him, that’s a no-brainer. But the whole thing was simply preposterous. Admittedly, the past few days were incredible, but was that enough to make a definitive decision about wanting to be in a relationship? How could a relationship between us possibly work?
I had a vigorous mental debate with myself, running through all the reasons his proposal was ludicrous and full of pitfalls. Before finally admitting my self-debate was futile.
“I want to be with you, Garland, but I don’t see how it could possibly work. We live in two different states, are we to have a long-distance relationship?” I asked.
“Absolutely not, that could never work. I’ll need you here with me, in Miami,” he said.
“You want me to move to Miami?” I questioned disbelievingly.
“Yes, eventually. I’m not expecting you to pick up next week and move here, Camry, but it is my hope that in time you will,” he confirmed.
Whoa. To say that shit had just gotten complicated was an understatement.
“You won’t have to worry about anything in term of costs, I can provide you with anything you’ll ever want or need. You’ll also have the use of my plane to visit your family as often as you’d like,” Garland added offhandedly.
I’m fairly certain my face read stupification as I sat staring.
His plane? Seriously? I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.
Garland was way out of my league; he was playing in a whole other arena. I was just an ordinary girl from ordinary Michigan, but the two of us might as well be living on different planets. He obviously lived in a different world than I was used to. And though I tried tamping down the blossoming feeling, I couldn’t help feeling somewhat intimidated by it. I just didn’t get it, the man could probably have any woman he wanted, yet, he sat there declaring he wanted me.
“Wow…that’s a lot to digest,” I muttered, for lack of a better response.
Other than sex, were the two of us truly compatible on any other level? How would I fit into his world of luxury, paparazzi, and bodyguards?
“I know it’s asking a lot of you, Camry, but it makes the most sense logistically. All I ask is that you at least consider it,” Garland said, conceding the weightiness of his proposal.
It was a hell of a lot to consider.
Are you seriously entertaining this craziness? I asked myself. It’s completely nuts!
Besides, there was a whole other piece of the puzzle that hadn’t yet been discussed. “Are you forgetting I have a small child?” I asked.
“I’m well aware of you having a daughter, Camry. I expect that any decisions made would be with her best interest in mind,” he said in answer, sounding perfectly sensible.
“How would this work exactly, would we live together?” I asked curiously, still unsure of his full intentions. Perhaps he only wished to put me up like a kept woman, only coming by to visit for booty-calls.
“Yes, we would live together, unless that presented a problem for you. But when I stated I wanted you here in Miami with me, that included you being in my bed every night,” Garland replied, not mincing words.
“And you’re willing to have both me and a child invade your space?” I quizzed skeptically, thinking him perhaps short-sighted. “What if I have terrible habits—like being a slob, or I’m a terrible cook, or leave all the lights and televisions on all the time? What if Autumn turns out to be a total brat?” I added for argument-sake.
Why I was seemingly trying to deter him, I couldn’t say.
“It's a large house, so we’d hardly be tripping over one another. If you are a slob, I guess I would have to increase my housekeeper’s pay. I have a chef, so you need only cook when you want. And leave on as many lights and televisions as you’d like, I can afford to pay the bills,” Garland ticked off, addressing each absurd concern. “And lastly, if Autumn is a brat, that’s something we’ll have to work on. Now, is there anything else?” he asked with a cocked brow.
Smart ass.
I smiled at his tenacity. “You’re completely serious about this, aren’t you?” I asked bafflingly. Because despite everything he’d said up until this point, I still couldn’t quite reconcile it.
“I only bother with those things in which I’m serious about,” he confirmed, sounding like a bit of a pompous ass.
I couldn’t hold back my grin.
“Did I say something funny?” Garland asked.
“Not at all,” I answered, almost positive he was fully unaware of his tendency to sound snobbish.
He sometimes spoke in absolutes that came off as either cockiness, or arrogance.
Garland gave me a doubtful look as I hid my smile behind my wineglass.
We’d ignored the entrée’s that were placed on the table by the server a few minutes ago, but I now turned my attention to my food. The shrimp and crab linguine looked delicious. Savoring a bite, I gazed across th
e table at the gorgeous man who said he wanted me, knowing that I was a damn fool. I knew I wouldn’t say no to him, but, it would have to be on my terms.
“I’m willing to consider it, Garland; but this is all so sudden, you’ll have to give me time,” I told him.
I’d already decided to break things off with John, probably decided on it days ago, when I had sex with another man. But deciding something and actually doing it was different.
“That’s a reasonable request, and a lot better than no, I guess. I can give you time, Camry, how much do you anticipate needing?” Garland questioned.
“God, you’re pushy, is there a time limit on your offer?” I challenged.
“There’s no time limit, just a question of how long before you’re disentangled,” he replied.
I eyed him with interest, his meaning telling. But he needn’t worry, I figured that had already happened around the time he had his fingers in both my orifices.
There’s just something about a man having his finger in your ass that screamed commitment.
“Get rid of the fiancé, Camry, I won’t share you with another man,” Garland said plainly, in case I wasn’t clear on his previous meaning.
“I intend to break my engagement as soon as I return home, you are the only man who gets to touch me,” I assured him.
We hadn’t yet gotten around to discussing monogamy; I assumed it to be a forgone conclusion. But I could be wrong.
“I hope that extends both ways,” I said, making myself clear.
“Do you not want another woman touching me?” he asked innocently.
I just gave him the stare-face, unamused. “Only if you don’t mind another man touching me,” I said in turn.
He quickly lost the smirk he’d been wearing. “I want no other woman, Camry, there’s only room for two of us in a relationship,” he said with finality.
Yeah, that’s what I thought. I smiled on the inside.
“So how much time will you need? Give me a guesstimate,” Garland doggedly persisted.
“First, I think it important for us to know each other a lot more than we do. Second, you would need to meet Autumn, to be around her enough to decide if living together will work for either of us,” I told him.