“You got me. I was about to call Daniel and tell him I found me a real man,” I say flatly.
“One of the scenes from Urban Heartbreak. Fucking cheesy, ah?”
“Could have skipped the lip lock there, movie star,” I say. Ian grins in response.
“I actually love it,” Tasha says dreamingly. “Can’t wait to watch it.”
Ian grins at Tasha, blows her a kiss, and grabs one of the menus. “So what’s good in this joint?”
We’ve all polished nearly half of our dishes and had a tasting orgy, trying each other’s food, when Tasha takes a sip of her lemonade and says, “I got an offer for a relocation.”
My head jolts up. I blurt, “You’re leaving Stark Software?”
She shakes her head. Ian drops the last piece of pita bread and hummus into his mouth and cleans his lips with a napkin, his full attention on Tasha. Tasha’s stare runs from Ian to me and back. “Actually, Daniel offered to let me manage the Thai office setup.” Her eyes stay on mine. “And I’m going to accept his offer. That’s my important meeting,” she adds, biting on her bottom lip.
Ian and I trade confused stares. “You’ll be moving to Asia?” I ask, too muddled to form a more intelligent question. What in the hell?
Her wicked grin turns up on her lips. “That’s right, sweetie, Thailand is indeed in Asia. You really know your geography. I’m proud.” She pats my hand.
I don’t even have it in me to come up with a proper retaliation.
“For how long?” Ian asks, the most solemn I’ve heard him in, well, a very long time.
“Not sure yet. I’ll supervise the setup, which I believe should take a good few months, and then we’ll see. There’s an option to stay there and co-run it with a local site manager after he or she is hired. But I’ll have to go through the hiring process just like any other candidate.”
“He didn’t tell me anything about it,” I say under my breath.
“Hales, there’s wasn’t anything to tell before my decision,” Tasha says.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ian asks, seeming no less perturbed than I am.
At least, she has the decency to look somewhat repentant. “Guys, see, um, you need to understand, I wanted to make the decision by myself. I didn’t want anyone influencing it. It’s a huge thing for me, and for once, I wanted to rely on my judgment alone.”
“Did we ever force you to do anything you didn’t want to do, Tash?” Ian asks mildly disappointed.
Her eyes downcast, she forks the remainder of her dish but never actually brings it up to her mouth. “Rafa said you guys would be upset.”
“Just hold the fuck up,” Ian snaps. In unison, we both shift our stares his way. “Rafael knew about it and Hales and I didn’t? That’s such a dick move.”
“He’s coming along with me,” she breathes in response.
My eyes grow in tandem to Ian’s headshake. I take a deep breath. “Why don’t we all just calm down for a moment? Now Tasha, spill it all out, everything.” Before we make you douse your torch and leave Friends Island.
Half an hour later with our lunchtime breaks dwindled down to mere minutes, both Ian and I are somewhat placated. As much as one can be with such news. In good old Natasha Taylor fashion, Tasha has done a skillful job at clarifying her motives while stroking and cajoling her soul mates’ wounded egos into loving her again.
“That’s so fucked up! Hales, you are going to start popping out little Starky humans, and Tash is going to reign a group of little almond-shaped humans,” Ian says, riled up, dropping a couple of notes on the table. “What’s happening to us?”
I rub his bicep fondly. “We’re growing up, I guess.”
“You might want to give it a try, too.” Tasha grins at him.
“Never.” Ian pouts.
“Hey guys, how about a sleepover tomorrow? Daniel is traveling again; keep me company y’all.”
“PJ party, I’m in,” Tasha says, draping her purse over her shoulder.
“Growing up, my impeccable ass,” Ian snorts. “I’m bringing da liquids.” He winks, kisses our cheeks, and strides away with a hard to miss swagger that claims a few turned heads in his wake.
Chapter 18
Powerfully. Fiercely. Complete.
“Hey, baby.” I turn from the sketchpad on my lap to give Daniel a semi-hostile look.
“What’s up?” He takes a couple of steps my way, where I’m working on a drawing, nestled on the living room sofa.
I raise my hand his way, gesturing for him to stop. “Thank you for sending my friend to another country and failing to mention it.” I narrow my glare. “Unless you have one helluva excuse or an incredibly rare diamond on you, I would warmly recommend you stay back.”
Daniel’s eyes light up in amusement which immediately dissipates my feigned anger. He makes a whole production of patting his pockets with one hand. He shakes his head, his mouth slightly twisted. “Sorry, no diamond.” A hint of a smile plays at the corner of his lips as he brings forward a pizza box. “Tony’s pizza instead?”
“Even better.” I set my sketchpad aside on its face, trying to hide my own smile.
“Ever heard of the saying ‘Beware of Greeks Bearing Gifts’?” He shrugs off his blazer and drops it on the sofa next to me.
“Oh, you trying to penetrate my gate is nothing I should be too cautious about, on the contrary . . .” I beam at him, only to be gifted with a wicked, sweetly wicked, smile.
I watch Daniel as he kicks off his shoes and lowers to sit on the coffee table in front of me. I keep my eyes on him, more than enjoying his looks in a casual black tee and jeans. His hair is a bit longer than usual; a couple of lighter clusters of gold fall and cover his eyebrow as he turns to me with a slice of heavenly smelling pepperoni pizza. Melted cheese strings swing from either side. I take the offering and bring it to my mouth, closing my eyes, savoring the perfect taste. Daniel watches me, taking a bite of his own slice.
I lick the salty, delectable grease off my lips. “I thought we told each other everything.” I raise my eyes, challenging his.
Daniel takes another bite of his slice and swallows it down. “This doesn’t concern us. It’s about an offer I gave one of my employees.” I roll my eyes, a gesture he bluntly disregards. “It’s a good opportunity for her. You should be happy for her. She made a wise decision.”
“Of course, I’m glad for her. I’ll miss her, that’s all. A lot.”
“There are planes.”
Simple. Daniel Stark simple.
“But isn’t Thailand dangerous?” I ask; Daniel’s hostage experience there just a few months ago is still a fresh and taunting memory.
“It was a period of political instability. The situation has calmed down now. Bangkok is quite safe. Obviously, we’ll make sure the employees take the appropriate precautions. We’re in close contact with the embassy, and we’re strictly following the government’s travel advisories for the city.” He places his hand on my knee. “Hales, rest assured I’m never going to put any of my employees in danger. Now, can we stop discussing Natasha’s career and maybe talk about yours?”
Where did this come from? “What about mine?”
Daniel tips his chin toward the side table. “What were you working on?”
I lick pizza off my fingers under Daniel’s more than engrossed stare. Giving my middle finger some good old-fashioned suction for good measure. Daniel’s irises darken at my little show. I smirk and reach for the sketchpad, flipping back some pages to hide what I was really working on. He takes the sketchpad and studies the drawing. A modern interpretation of Snow White in which Miss White is a badass president of an outlaw motorcycle club with the dwarfs as her entourage.
“It’s great.”
“And you’re biased.”
Daniel twists his mouth, drops the sketchpad onto his lap, and turns to gaze at me. Hazel eyes wordlessly scolding. “Hales, it’s fucking brilliant. And it’s about time you did something about it instead of wasting your
time on a job you don’t really need.”
I fold my arms across my chest in defense. “I like my job.”
“More than illustrating?” Scarred eyebrow arches at me.
I shake my head.
“Wouldn’t you like to do this for a living instead?”
I bob my head.
“Then you should pitch your work with some agents.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“We both know you won’t. You’ll just keep hiding your work in a drawer. You’re good, Hales. Start believing in yourself.” He watches me closely. “Tell you what, anything you want if you start looking for an agent.”
“Anything?” I ask, holding his gaze firmly.
He folds his own arms across his wide chest. “Anything.”
I rise to my feet, set the sketchpad aside, and bend to sit on his lap. With tender kisses and gentle strokes of bristled cheeks, I soothe him for the blow. “Talk to someone about what you went through in Thailand and I’ll pitch to every possible agent on the planet.”
He watches me with hard eyes for some strained beats. His jaw ticking. “Deal.”
I let out a relieved breath, looking at him in wonder. Really?
A little wrinkle sets above his nose. “Why do you look so surprised?”
I lick my lip, trying to find the right words. “It’s that important to you, that you’d be willing to actually . . .” I don’t get to finish my sentence.
He shakes his head, his lips in a grim smile. “I’m actually surprised that by now you still can’t comprehend just how important you are to me. You always come first. Just as I’m doing what I want to do, and enjoy it, I want the same for you. It’s very simple, Hales. I want you happy.” Mischief infiltrates his serious expression. “Happy and naked.” He squeezes my butt.
. . .
Brushing my teeth, I shift my eyes to look at Daniel through the vanity mirror. He pulls his shirt up over his head and throws it into the hamper. He rinses his toothbrush. Reaching for the toothpaste, his eyes meet mine in the mirror. I return his smile with a mouth full of suds and toothbrush. Aimlessly, my mind wanders to the night Daniel told me he wanted me for the first time, at the Stark Software fundraiser. It feels like a lifetime ago. The smile on my face is not something I’m controlling anymore.
Daniel halts his brushing. “Hey, what are you smiling like that for?”
My smile expands. Holding my stare over the mirror, his own crooked smile broadens as he moves to stand behind me. One of his hands goes back to brushing while the other settles on my hip. I tilt forward to rinse my mouth, deliberately brushing my butt against his groin. As I straighten up, his hand on my hip pulls me back, closer to his chest.
“I was just remembering that morning when you came all the way to YOU just ‘cause you had to kiss me.”
His lips stretch into a grin around the toothbrush. He lowers down from behind me to reach the sink. He rinses his mouth, and I take the chance to press a kiss on his muscled shoulder. Returning to stand behind me, he sends his hand to my waist and turns me to face him. His hands move to my hip and lift me to perch on the vanity. He pushes my legs apart, settling between them.
He leans in to kiss my lips lightly. “Nothing has changed. I still feel exactly the same.” He kisses me again, this time with greater intensity.
“Same here,” I say as we draw back. Reaching for the night lotion, I open the little jar. “You ruined me for anyone else that morning. No, wait; it was actually the night before, at that fundraiser.”
Daniel takes the lotion from my hand, sinks the tip of his finger in the pinkish cream, and sets it aside. He gives me a soft smile, dabbing four little spots on my face. Forehead, cheeks, and ends with my chin. He presses a kiss to my nose and starts smoothing the lotion onto my skin. I wrap my legs around his pelvis, tipping my face back, fluttering my eyes closed. The gentle touch of his fingers on my skin feels wonderful.
“You ruined me for others when you stepped into my kitchen.”
I open my eyes, which are lightly heated by his proximity. “Oh wait, it was actually that graceful ‘fuck me.’” His lopsided smile makes an appearance.
I return his bright stare from under my lashes. My eyes descend to his lips, to his carved chest, to the sprinkle of darker hair leading into his jeans. I slowly trail my eyes back to his and huskily whisper, “Fuck me.”
Daniel’s stare dims as he leans in to meet my lips with a kiss that revs up the heat dominating each part of me since he moved to stand behind me. Our tongues graze, taste, smooth against one another, accelerating the rhythm to aggressive, possessive, and needy. He breaks the almost manic connection, his eyes searing into mine. Taking a step back, he rips my shorts off me, sliding them down my legs. His fingers find the hem of my panties and ever so slowly drag them down my body. Determined, he continues to free me of my tank top. Still watching me like he’s about to drag me into his lair, he unbuttons his jeans. Pushing them down together with his boxers, his hands slide to my inner thighs, spreading them further apart. He watches me for a heated beat as I’m splayed open before him, my breathing heavier. My eyes hooded, my lips parted, my inside humming and begging for his touch. His hand moves to hold himself at the base, the other slowly stroking upward. A pant leaves my lips, watching him, every piece of my skin heats up. Hazel stare drinks me in as one of his hands grabs my hip while the other guides him to me. He teases, rubbing himself at my heated spot, repeatedly stealing incoherent, raw sounds out of me. I fall back to rest on my elbows for a better view of the sensual display. He stiffens, his breath held as he sinks into me. In unison, we let out an expel of pleasure. And then, as I asked, he fucks me. Powerfully. Fiercely. Complete with untamed craze.
Chapter 19
Sweets, Booze, and a Colonic
I resurface from a deep sleep to gentle strokes of my hair. Blinking a couple of times, I work to adjust my vision to the faintly illuminated room. I crane my neck to look up at Daniel, who meets my gaze with a gentle, lopsided smile. He sits next to me on the bed in a suit, his freshly showered scent bathing me.
“What’s the time?” I say in a raspy voice.
“Two a.m.” He dips his mouth to press a kiss on my forehead. I study him under the soft light coming from the slightly ajar bathroom door in the otherwise dark room. He brings his hand to brush a wayward curl from my face. “I’m leaving in five. There’s something I wanted to tell you before I go.”
“What is it?”
He takes my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. “The results came in,” he says. I wait for him to go on, unable to breathe. “It’s not mine.”
I close my eyes, pushing out the breath I’ve been holding. I squeeze his hand, my eyes caressing his handsome features. “I love you.”
He slowly leans in to press another kiss on my forehead. Lowering his lips, he kisses the tip of my nose and moves on to my lips. He brushes my lips with a series of gentle kisses. His mouth trails lower, leaving supple kisses over my neck. Reaching my collarbone, his lips kiss a path from one side to the other.
I watch him as he straightens to sit. His fingers thread at either side of my temple, tender eyes on mine. His low voice breaks the silence. “Love is a weak word to express how I feel about you, Hales.”
I rise up to sit, wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss him so hard, I drop him back to the bed. I kiss him some more, finding it almost impossible to finally let him go.
. . .
“What do you say?” Tasha asks. Tilting her head sideways, she examines what Ian and I are studying with great concentration. Seeming undecided, she says, “Maybe we should drink first. Alcohol is known to free your imagination and fuel creativity.” The three of us exchange animated stares. “Okay, drink up,” she commands.
In unison, Tasha and Ian take the shot glass before them and throw it back as if it’s their job. A wince moves in succession from Tasha to Ian.
“Shit’s lethal,” Ian murmurs, heaving a breath.
“l'
chaim. . .” I mumble to my sparkling water.
A sinister grin rises up Tasha’s lips. “Suck it up, big boy.” She pats Ian’s shoulder. “It’ll grow hair on your chest.” She shrugs off his middle finger gesture with light laughter and turns to the counter. Ian and I mirror her as she resumes studying our production.
“Feels like something is missing.” Ian’s words trail off pensively. He circles his finger in the air, pointing at the object we’re studying. “Maybe more lubricant?”
I can’t help the humored snort from escaping my mouth.
“What?” he says with a chuckle. “It’ll slide better into your mouth.” Tasha bursts into a giggle at his side.
“I actually love me some old-fashioned friction, if ya know what I mean.” I wink at him to be rewarded with an impish chuckle.
“How about we pour some warm chocolate on it? What do you say?” Tasha asks, her lips stretched mischievously.
Ian and I give each other an assessing glance. “It might soften it, but I prefer it hard,” he says, hamming it up with the gravity in his voice.
“More whipped cream?” I try.
On cue, Tasha snatches the Reddi Wip, sprays out a foamy string, and sends out the tip of her tongue for a taste. “Yeah, definitely.”
“Tash, Tash, Tash.” Ian shakes his head. “What’s up with the late-night soft porn? You trying to make my boy parts tingle?”
Tasha claps a hand to her mouth. “Ohmygod, you’re on to me.” She blinks a couple of times. “Maybe it’s time I confessed.” She captures Ian’s stare. “My secret lifelong dream, mysterious even to me, has been to convert you.” She gestures her hand over Ian; adding a sultry hue to her voice, she says, “All of this hotness unattainable, yet so close.”
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