“Can’t blame ya,” Ian says with a light sway of his head. He gives our creation one last glance before declaring, “Perfect. Ladies?” His smile grows sinister. “Ready for some oral play?”
Marilyn’s “Happy Birthday, Mr. President” has nothing on my voice when I say, “I thought you’d never ask.”
We settle down on the rug. Ian is wedged between Tash and me with the obscene bowl of banana split we’ve concocted on his lap.
“I swear this is the most hazardous dish on the planet,” I say, digging a spoon into the summit of sugar, fat, and God knows how much artificial goodness.
Tasha brings a spoonful to her lips. “We should’ve booked a bypass for later, just in case.”
“Or at least, a colonic,” I add.
Ian snorts. “Okay, shut your faces now, or I’ll banish you to the kitchen. This is the best part.”
Ian, Tasha, and I, spoons held in mouths, grow silent and stare at the wide screen. For a long, focused beat, we’re all fixated on the screen. We sigh in unison when the scene of Ryan Gosling hot and heavy with, who really cares, fades to black.
“Now, this is the stuff dreams are made of,” Ian says, pausing the movie on an almost full frontal. Naturally, we nod in agreement. “So, Hales, are you knocked up yet?”
Come again? Startled, my head jerks Ian’s way. “Wha?”
He twists his mouth. “Do you have a little Starky human in your womb, yet?” then, “Un Starky bebé en tu útero?”
“How do you even know how to say uterus in Spanish?” Tasha wonders out loud.
“The real question should be how did we get from that.” I throw my hand to the screen. “To whether I’m with a child.”
Ian grins. “Ryan always makes my ovaries rattle. And ovaries, you know . . .” His smile morphs into a smirk.
Tasha studies me for a lengthened moment with narrowed eyes and a start of a smile.
“What?” I ask.
“Well, are you?”
“Don’t you guys have any boundaries?”
Their mocking snorts come in stereo and so does the adamant, “No.”
I take a deep breath. “I might be,” comes out on an exhale.
Ian’s features turn confused in tandem to the crease of Tasha’s brows. “What does that mean?” Tasha is the one to voice the question.
A mini-debate starts in my head before I decide to spill it. They are Tasha and Ian, after all. The only people with a standing front-row seat to my crazy. “Um, I’m a couple of days late, but it doesn’t really mean anything. And I bought, like, a bazillion and one home pregnancy tests. I kid you not. But I can’t bring myself to actually take one.” They both look at me with patience, letting me get it all out. “But, on the other hand, I don’t even want to know. I’m freaked out and excited at the same time. Do I even make any sense?” I don’t let them answer. “I really try not to obsess about it. Because eventually, I’ll find out whether I want to or not.” I end my meltdown with shoving a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth.
“You’ll eventually know? Like, when a little hand pops out of your vagina and waves?” Ian waves a little wave, backing his question.
Tasha rolls her eyes with a thin smile and turns to me. “Don’t you want to find out?”
“Yes and no.” I sigh. Yes, you’re a nutjob. Great maternal material here. But look at the bright side, these two are used to it. And can easily give you a run for your money. The boy especially.
“Let’s all take one together.” I can’t help breaking into laughter. Yes, that came from Ian. I rest my case!
“Moron.” Tasha shakes her head, her lips in a wide grin.
“What?” Ian chuckles. “I’m serious. Come on, it’ll be a hoot.”
I shake my head five minutes later as we’re all leaning against the bathroom wall, waiting for our results. Well, if you can’t beat them, join the not of sound mind. Even though I’m freaked to my bones, I can’t stop snickering, watching Ian wait for his results.
“Great! I get to cross this off my bucket list tonight,” Ian says, yanking me out of my stress bubble.
Tasha and I crane our heads that are rested on the wall, squinting our eyes to look at him.
“You had taking a pregnancy test on your bucket list?” Tasha gives Ian an incredulous stare.
He smirks at her. I choose to believe he’s messing with us. There’s just so much lunacy one can encompass.
Tasha checks her watch. “Ready, Hales?”
I nod.
We scatter to three different corners of the ample bathroom. We made sure to place each stick in a concealed spot. Tight as we are, there are some things one should never be exposed to.
“Thank God, negative,” Ian declares in Ian fashion.
“Can you please stop waving your stick at us? There was a purpose to keeping it covered,” Tasha chides.
“Oh honey, don’t insult me. A stick?” Ian drops his eyes to his sweats-clad groin, tilting his head from side to side. “Um, I’d go with a trunk.”
Tasha and I throw our eyes to the ceiling.
“Negative,” Tasha says, wrapping her stick in toilet paper. She shifts her eyes to me, mirroring Ian.
“Negative.” The mixed emotions in me are jarring.
They both come closer, placing their arms around either side of my waist. “You okay?” Tasha asks.
“I guess.” I shrug, having a hard time wrapping my head around what I’m feeling. How can one feel such great relief and immense disappointment at the same time?
“Look at the positive side. We can now drop sweet and move on back to booze.” Ian squeezes me into him.
“I’ll pass on the alcohol, thank you,” I say, discarding my stick.
“Great! More for us,” Tasha sings.
For the next couple of hours, I’m not able to think about the results even once, for I’m too occupied trying not to lose a lung due to excessive laughter. The combination of my friends and booze is practically fatal.
“Awake?” Ian says to the calm silence, his voice uncharacteristically grave. Too exhausted and comfortable, we’ve decided to camp out in the wilderness of the living room.
Tasha and I raise our heads from either side of his chest. “Yesss?” Tasha questions.
I’m not sure what makes my heart drop; the tone of his voice or what actually comes out of his mouth when he says, “I ended things with Josh.”
“Oh, Ian,” Tasha says.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, finding Tasha’s eyes through the dark. We exchange a concerned stare. “You sure it was the right thing to do?” My voice has the same gentle quality as Tasha.
I feel the rolling shake in his chest before his chuckle reaches us. “Told you I’m a terrific actor,” he says over his rolling laughter. The laughter elevates when two thrown pillows meet his face at the same time.
“Idiot,” Tasha murmurs.
When his chuckles subside, and Tasha and I are back to snuggling on his chest, Ian says, “We didn’t break up, but we’re moving in together.”
Needless to say, not much sleep occurs after this bomb.
Chapter 20
Because Sometimes You Just Have to
“Hayley? What are you doing here so early?”
“I can ask you the same thing, Boss.” I stifle a yawn, swiveling in my chair to face Josh.
“I have an early budget meeting I need to prepare for. What’s your excuse?”
“I don’t sleep very well alone.” I leave out the part that each time Daniel is either about to board a plane or land, I stress out. Let’s just say, I was able to breathe a little better once I got a text, about half an hour ago, telling me he’s back on SF soil.
Josh’s smile climbs up to his lips. The same one that seems to come as a reflex each time Daniel is mentioned. Before my declaration turns into a gabfest, I ask, “I’m going to get coffee, get you anything?” In my defense, I haven’t had my first cup of coffee yet, making any minor action, let alone conversing, too much to
accomplish.
“God, please. Caramel Macchiato. Oh, and a cinnamon roll.” This time, The Smile holds a grateful glee.
I nod and turn on my heel. Deep in thought, I make it to reception. Everything from missing Daniel, to Thing One and Thing Two’s sleepover the other night and the test results, to the cute cowgirl boots I ordered online, distract me from realizing the reception area is not actually as abandoned as it appears to be. Our heavily pierced, impudent of a brat receptionist might have not arrived yet, but apparently there is someone in the room. The movement in my peripheral view and the weight of a stare on me makes me still.
Looking up, realizing who it is, I do a double take. No one can make my heart go as wild as it beats right now nor pull off sexy-disheveled like Daniel does. With overgrown stubble, unruly hair, and a white, slightly wrinkled, untucked shirt, he couldn’t look more decadent.
“What are you doing here?” flies out of my mouth.
Daniel pushes himself off the wall and strides my way. Crooked smile present. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me to him. His lips descend to hover over mine. “I didn’t want to start my morning without kissing you.” It’s pretty obvious he came here directly from the airport. A notion that adds a sprinkle of ecstasy to my overall hard swooning.
When he tries to ease back, I secure my hand around his neck, making it impossible. I attack his mouth, releasing all the pent-up longing from not seeing him for a few days. He chuckles into my kiss, but his tongue quickly joins the tempo my unleashed one is dictating. Reluctantly, after some wonderful moments, I ease off. Not only for the sake of being in a public place but with said public place also happening to be my place of work.
“I missed you,” I say, lacing my fingers with his.
“I can see that.” He rewards me with one of his extra sinful grins. Tugging on my hand, he brings me closer to his side. “Missed you, too.” He plants a kiss on the crown of my head.
“I was just going to get coffee.” I tip my chin toward the door.
“I’ll walk you there.”
On our way to get coffee, we tell each other about the days we spent apart. Among other less important things, I tell him about taking a pregnancy test, leaving out the part where Ian and Tash took one with me. His reaction couldn’t make me less edgy and at the same time love him more.
He kisses my temple. “There’s a next time.” Something about the confidence and coolness Daniel emits makes me self-assured, worriless, and . . . blissful. Because no matter what, whatever happens, when he is by my side, everything is just . . . better.
Fifteen minutes later, Daniel kisses me good-bye like it’s his job and takes off in the Veyron. The last look he gives me tells me just how the next time we’re alone will play. A look that buzzes inside me. Two paper cups and a cinnamon roll in hand, and pulsing lips, I make my way back to the office. I’d be boldly lying if I said that I’m not mentally envisioning Daniel throwing me on a bed and devouring me as I hand Josh his order, flushed, mind you.
My phone pings with an incoming message, distracting Josh and me from the money-beverage exchange. “I’m just . . .” I start to say, and Josh nods, only interested in ravenously eyeing his coffee.
Daniel: H, want to play hooky with me?
I text back.
And do what?
Daniel: Me.
Have mercy on my ovaries, D. It’s as if he can read my deepest and filthiest thoughts. The earlier pulsing I felt on my lips now runs amuck to every part of me. I swallow hard and look up at Josh.
“You okay, Hayley? You’re a bit flushed.” Josh’s features harden with concern. He clutches his hand around my shoulder. “Are you having trouble breathing? Maybe you should sit down.”
Hell, that’s where I’m going. “Umm, I think I might be coming down with something.” A stark case of D-bola, Boss. “Um, would it be okay if I work from home today?” The little devil with the red corset that’s perched on my shoulder gives me a thumbs-up.
“Oh, don’t worry about work. Just get some rest. We’ll be fine. Do you want me to drive you home?”
I shake my head, feeling even worse for lying now, what with the genuine concern Josh is showing. However, said feeling vanishes once I shoot Daniel a response. After all, one should get her daily dose of vitamin D.
Race you home!
Almost instantly, Daniel’s name flickers across my screen. “Hey,” I answer through a grin.
“Drive safely.” His voice doesn’t hold even an ounce of humor. My eyes fly to the skies right after he hangs up.
A message lands in my cell as I’m about to start the car. With the key in the ignition, foot still on the brake, I check it out.
Daniel: HAYLEY, DRIVE SAFELY!
I shake my head and toss the phone into the passenger seat. Overbearing psycho.
. . .
I press the remote, waiting for the garage door to rise. My smile blossoms at the sight of Daniel leaning on the Veyron, his legs stretched before him, crossed at the ankles, waiting.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him rolling up his sleeves as I rear park next to him. I push the button to close the garage door, drape my bag over my shoulder, and climb out. Daniel prowls my way, getting there before I’m even able to shut the car’s door. With eyes drinking me hungrily, he sends his hand to my strap on my shoulder. He slides it down and unceremoniously throws my handbag into the driver’s seat. Wordlessly, he takes my hand and walks me to the front of my car. I watch him with hooded eyes as he leans in to kiss me. Gradually, he presses me back till my rear meets the warm hood of the car. His hands that were holding my cheeks, slowly trace down my neck, collarbone, breasts and waist, till they reach the hem of my shirtdress. I let out a quiet whimper, deepening our kiss. Our teeth collide when the kiss gains momentum. Daniel’s fingers graze my skin, pulling my dress up my thighs. Never leaving his mouth, I send my hand to his slacks. When I slide my hand inside his boxers, a raw growl rumbles from his chest. Abruptly, he grabs my hips and lifts me up. I land with a light jerk on the still cooling hood. Daniel’s eyes are two pools of heat as he gazes at me, yanking his belt off, unbuttoning his pants, and letting them drop to his ankles.
“Spread your legs for me, Hales,” comes a gruff command.
Staring back at him with no less desire and biting on my bottom lip, I slowly do as asked. Daniel takes a step forward, settling between my parted thighs. Never breaking our heated stare, he sends his hand to my panties. I let out a breathy sigh when he slides his thumb under the fabric. His hazel stare becomes scorching as he pushes his thumb into me. I close my eyes, relishing the current of pleasure.
“Hales,” the command in his voice makes me open my eyes back into his. Doing what he wordlessly asked of me, I keep my stare on him as he grazes over my heated skin. His thumb works me, putting the right amount of pressure to elicit shudders up my thighs.
With his free hand, he takes mine. He threads his fingers through mine and guides me to wrap around his shaft. We watch each other with wild eyes as his thumb keeps circling me, and our hands glide together over his length. Daniel lifts our joined hands, bringing them near his mouth. He presses a warm kiss to my skin and moves my hand to hold his waist. He sends his arm to my lower back and slides me slightly forward.
Not breaking eye contact, as he pushes my panties aside with one hand and brings himself to me with the other. We both let out a guttural pant as he buries himself in me. Steadily, he slams into me and pulls backs. A light sheen covers his upper lip, the frown between his brows deepening as his thrusts become fiercer, deeper, sending me climbing higher and higher.
“Daniel,” comes out on a needy exhale.
“Yes, baby, that’s it.”
His hand slides between us, and when it reaches my pulsing peak, I cry out incoherently. I start to spasm around him with an electrical current tidal in my core, sending me to lose myself in the incredible feeling of release, at the moment, in Daniel.
. . .
I blink
one eye open, checking my phone. God, I’ve napped for over four hours. After I freshen up in the bathroom, I make my way to get coffee, knotting my hair in a bun. Tipping my eyes up as I step into the kitchen space, I stop short.
“Good morning, baby.” Daniel grins at me, handing a ladle to the cute blonde fussing around beside him. Handing a ladle to the cute blonde beside him?!
“Hi?” Not sure if that actually came out of my mouth, as I’m too busy studying the domestic scene taking place before me. A cropped-haired blonde with huge green eyes and a nose ring takes the ladle from Daniel while smiling at me.
Daniel’s smile turns into a full-blown smirk as his eyes lazily take me in, reminding me that the only clothing I’m currently donning is a shocking pink bra and matching thong. I lightly smile at the appreciative glee in his stare.
“Hey, Hayley.” Blondie with the apron waves my way. I give the scene in front of me another gauging glance. There are several bowls with fresh vegetables, grains, and tofu piled up on the kitchen island. Daniel stands beside Ms. Apron in a pair of jeans and a snug white tee, barefoot and beaming.
I twist my mouth, not exactly the greatest fan of the fact that another woman gets to see his bare feet. Okay, that sounded borderline wacko, even in my head. Well, I don’t like it. Big. Deal. Moving on . . .
My possessiveness cracks her knuckles, stretching her neck from side to side. Yes, it’s she, and she’s a badass. Though internally I flinch at my scanty appearance, I hold my head up and saunter toward the island.
I wrap my right arm around Daniel’s waist, and casually send my left hand to the pistachio bowl on the counter. I plop one of the nuts into my mouth. “Having fun playing with my ladle?” I say to no one in particular; my eyes, though, are hard on the lady holding the incriminating utensil.
They both chuckle in unison. How cute. Not.
“She’s exactly how you described her,” she tells Daniel. “I’m Nadine.” Her smile trails to me. “Daniel has probably told you about me. I’m going to be your personal chef.”
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