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Deepest Desire

Page 10

by Weston Parker


  “What’s all this?” she asked.

  “You made dinner, so I thought I would serve you breakfast in bed. Do you have plans for the day?”

  “Nope,” she said, popping a strawberry into her mouth. “I was hoping to spend it with you, if you’re free.”

  “Completely free,” I said, handing her cutlery to eat her omelette.

  She took the first bite and nodded appreciatively. “This is good,” she said. “Thank you. I can never make myself omelettes. Or eggs of any kind, really. I always find a way to ruin them.”

  “Took me a while to perfect them, but now it’s easy. I could show you sometime?”

  “I think I’d rather spend our time doing other things,” Skylar said. “You know, the time we have left.”

  “Here’s to that,” I said, taking a sip of coffee. “Did you have anything in mind?”

  “Well,” she said deviously, her smile dimpling her cheek. “I was thinking it would be pretty cool to go on a motorcycle ride. I’ve never been on one before.”

  I was not going to turn down the opportunity to have a woman like her on the back of my bike. “Let’s do it. This is a week of conquering a lot of firsts for you, isn’t it?”

  She blushed fiercely and busied herself with picking the perfect strawberry to eat.

  “I’m going to make a call first,” I said, watching as she popped a strawberry between her perfect, luscious lips. “You can’t go on the back of my bike in a skirt and tank top.”

  “I don’t have anything else to wear,” she said.

  “Not yet,” I amended with a grin.

  ***

  The call I placed was to the motorcycle shop where I bought all my gear. After a quick conversation, I put in an order for a pair of jeans for Skylar, riding boots, and a leather jacket, helmet, and gloves. I made another call to one of my assistants after and had them go down to pick everything up for her and bring it back to my place.

  Now, she was standing in my garage, dark denim jeans hugging her hips and legs, trying to get her helmet in place.

  “Here,” I said, stepping close to her and holding the bottom of the helmet. I tilted her head up a bit so I could see the chin strap, and I began doing it up for her.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Takes practice, especially when you can’t see what you’re doing. There. You’re all set.” I stood back as if I was admiring my work. I was really admiring her. All of her.

  I drank in her long, lean legs that I now knew the strength of after she’d straddled me the night before. She looked smoking in the leather jacket and black riding boots. “You look like a badass,” I told her. Even with my bag over her shoulders, she looked the part of a serious female rider. She could have been on the cover of a magazine.

  “I feel like one,” she said, playfully popping out her hip and pretending to have a cigarette pinched between her fingers.

  I laughed and swung my leg over the side of the Ducati. “Come on, climb up. I’ve got the bike. Brace yourself on my back if you have to.”

  Skylar put one foot on the peg and swung herself up and over. Her thighs grazed the outsides of mine as she inched closer. “What do I hold on to?” she called.

  “Just wrap your arms around me,” I said before flipping my visor down. “It’s about to get pretty noisy!”

  She nodded that she had heard me and then wrapped her arms around my waist. The feeling of her holding on to me was thrilling. My stomach flipped, my palms grew sweaty in my gloves, and as I turned the bike over and revved the engine, I found myself wishing the moment could stretch on just a little bit longer.

  I guided us out of the garage and down the driveway. As we picked up speed closer to the highway, Skylar’s grip around me tightened. I lowered my left hand from the handlebar and closed it over hers to reassure her. This was nothing. This was child’s play. I wasn’t going to open up and ride the way I usually did when she was on the back. That would just be foolish.

  I’d scare the daylights out of her.

  Instead, I took it easy, taking corners lazily and gracefully to give her a smooth ride. I stayed off the main roads after taking the exit that would lead us to our destination, and I followed the snaking road until we reached it.

  A park, sprawling and empty save for a few young families, came into view.

  I parked the bike and turned the engine off. Skylar got off first and began trying to get her helmet off. She failed at it, and I could hear her muttering to herself beneath the helmet. I motioned her forward with one finger and helped her get it off while I was still sitting on the bike.

  She pulled the helmet off, and her mane of hair tumbled over her shoulders, glittering in the sunlight. She fixed me with that beautiful stare of hers. “You look pretty hot on a bike,” she said. “It’s too bad there are so many people around.”

  I flipped up my visor and winked at her. “You have no idea what I would do to you right now if we were alone.”

  She giggled and stepped back as I got off the Ducati. I took off my helmet and ran my fingers through my hair to tame it. I took the bag from her shoulders and slung it over my back.

  “Shall we?” I offered her my hand.

  She took it and I led her out of the parking lot toward a shaded spot under a massive oak tree with sprawling branches and dense leaves.

  We settled down on the grass, and I opened the bag I had brought. I withdrew a thin blanket for us to sit on and the Tupperware containers I had packed full of snacks.

  Skylar watched with wide eyes as I laid out the spread. “Did you cut up those mini sandwiches?” she asked, pointing at the tomato, cucumber, and cream cheese sandwiches I had prepared earlier in the day while she was showering.

  “As a matter of fact, I did. I also scooped this salsa into this container all on my own, and managed to cut up this cheese to eat with these crackers. I know, I’m amazing.”

  Skylar giggled and rubbed her hands on her thighs. “This is perfect, Greyson.”

  I was glad to hear it because perfect was exactly what I was going for.

  We sat back to enjoy our picnic upon the plaid blanket. Bees buzzed around us, and this didn’t seem to bother Skylar. She watched their lazy, clumsy bodies hover around the plates of food and never tried to shoo them away. I watched her all the while.

  The sun caught her hair through the openings in the leaves above every now and then, and when it did, my breath caught in my throat. The light would strike her eyes, too, making them brighter and bolder. Her cheeks were glowing and pink, and her lips were plump.

  She had taken off the leather jacket and was wearing nothing but the white tank top she had worn the night before. It was short, leaving a couple inches of her stomach exposed.

  When we finished eating, I grazed one finger over that exposed bare skin. She flinched and laid herself down, propping herself up on her elbows.

  I stayed where I was on my side beside her. I let my hand wander up her stomach and over her breasts where I caressed the skin of her cleavage with the softest of touches. Her nipples appeared through her white shirt.

  I reached up and buried a hand in her hair. I drew her down to me and kissed her. She tasted like summertime. Sweet and fresh. Her lips were softer than ever. Her kiss was breathless and a little desperate, and when we pulled apart, her cheeks were redder than ever.

  She giggled and laid down flat beside me, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me, Greyson.”

  “And you me,” I said, unable to stop myself from touching her thigh. I needed to be touching her at all times. I craved her closeness more than I had ever craved anything in my life.

  It was going to be hard when she left.

  I was afraid I might fall to my knees and beg her to stay in Las Vegas; beg her to stay with me.

  Chapter 16

  Skylar

  Greyson’s hand on my thigh was doing all kinds of crazy things to me. My cheeks were hot, my breath was rushed,
and my mind was racing with thoughts of the night we had spent together; of him, naked, hovering over me like a sex god. I was wet again, and the jeans he had purchased for me to ride on the back of his bike weren’t helping things. The vibration of the bike beneath me had also been a bit of a turn on, especially while having my arms wrapped around his body.

  I needed to think of other things. This constant state of being horny had to be interrupted. He had no idea what he was doing to me.

  “So, your sister,” Greyson said as he tossed a strawberry in the air and caught it between his teeth. I applauded him, and he bowed his head in thanks. “I can’t seem to wrap my head around her and Nikki as friends, you know? It just doesn’t make sense. She seems so nice and Nikki seems so…”

  “Not nice?” I finished for him.

  Greyson nodded with a smile on the lips I wished to kiss. “Yes. What’s the story there?”

  “Well,” I said. “She is a bit of a handful, and I have to remind myself all the time that she has been good to Renee. Our parents died when we were young. Renee was in her final year of high school, and it hit her pretty hard. As hard as it could hit any child, I imagine. Nikki was there for her, day after day, and she helped her through the whole thing. I tried my best, but I was grieving too, so Nikki was more of a solid foundation. Someone stable that Renee could go to.”

  “I’m sorry,” Greyson said, and his eyes were sad for me.

  “Don’t be,” I said. “It was a long time ago.”

  I hated how this topic always ended conversation. I worried that he was going to shut down like most people did, fearing he would say something wrong. Instead, he lifted his gaze from me and looked out at the rest of the park.

  “My parents died when I was young, too,” he said. “I had a sleepover at a friend’s house one weekend. It was a big deal. My parents were the overprotective sort, you know? They weren’t too keen on me spending the night with another kid’s family. But after a lot of persuading and begging, I convinced them that it was a good idea. At least, I convinced my dad, who convinced my mom.”

  I waited for him to continue. I felt a surge of anxiety in my chest.

  “I rode my bike home the next morning. My friend only lived a few neighborhoods away. It was a fifteen-minute ride at the most. When I rounded the corner to my cul-de-sac, my house was roped off with yellow police tape, and there were five police cars there.”

  “Oh my God,” I said, my hand going to my chest. I didn’t want to hear the rest. My heart was already breaking for him.

  “Robbery gone bad,” he said, one shoulder performing a miniscule shrug. “Guy broke in and tried to take what he could. He wasn’t right in the head, the cops said. My dad confronted him, and one thing led to another. I came home to no parents.”

  “Where did you go?” I asked. As a nurse, I had come across more than my fair share of children in foster care. I had met several with similar stories to Greyson’s.

  “The parents of the friend whose house I slept over at took me in. I didn’t have grandparents or any other relatives, and they stepped up. They signed the papers. The whole thing. It wasn’t all bad. They’re good people. They raised me from where my parents left off, and I gained a brother in the process.”

  “What’s his name?” I asked, hearing the tone of his voice shift to something more grateful and happy.

  “Matthew,” Greyson said. “But we call him Meek. Your parents, how did they die?”

  I had never been asked about their death in such a direct manner, and it didn’t bother me the way I thought it might. Perhaps it was because Greyson was the one asking. “Car accident. They were driving home from my dad’s work retirement party. He was sober, but the guy in the other car wasn’t.”

  “So, both our families were the victims of foolishness,” Greyson said, squeezing my knee reassuringly. “And yet here we are.”

  “Here we are,” I said.

  We stared at each other for a moment. I was thinking about how hard it was going to be to say goodbye to him before I went back to Houston. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was having some of the same thoughts.

  “Tell me something else about you,” he said, laying back on the blanket and knitting his hands behind his head.

  “There’s not much to tell,” I said shyly, looking down at him. A bit of his stomach was showing above the waist of his jeans, and the cut of his hips was not helping my panty situation.

  “I find that extremely hard to believe,” he said.

  “Honestly, I don’t know what else I can tell you. I have dedicated the last seven years of my life to my job. So much so that I think I may have missed out on a lot of opportunities.” As I said the words to him, it was the first time I ever really believed them.

  Renee had been telling me for ages that I needed to get out of my shell and my comfort zone so that I could start “collecting experiences.” She insisted that I needed to see what I was missing out on and that I needed to learn what balance was. That had been the whole point of this trip to Las Vegas.

  It had all felt so juvenile to me until I met Greyson. That was the first moment I realized what I had been shutting myself off from. Connections. People. Relationships. Being with him made me feel alive for the first time in years, and I hadn’t even noticed that I wasn’t feeling this way. I had lost my passion, and somewhere along the lines, I’d started defining my existence solely by my career.

  “My job can be the same,” Greyson said. “But I’ve learned how to manage it all. Even so, it takes up a bit more of my time than I would like.”

  “It sure seems like you are able to take a breather whenever you like,” I teased. He had dropped everything over the last couple of days to accommodate me and my schedule. I wasn’t ignorant to that.

  “True.”

  “This has all been really nice, Greyson. Truly. You made this trip special for me. I didn’t even want to be here. I wanted to go home as soon as I arrived.”

  Greyson smirked at me. “Well, when you showed up, you were under the impression that you’d be spending the bulk of your time with a walking talking Barbie doll who’s shallower than the fountain in the lobby of The Citrine.”

  I burst out laughing and shook my head. “Fair enough.”

  “Your sister is right, Skylar,” Greyson said, all serious now. “You have to step out of your box every now and then. Good things can and will happen. You just have to open yourself up to the possibility of it all.”

  I nodded. He was right, of course, but my life and the path I had chosen still held certain demands. I had patients who needed me back in Houston. And even though I was happier than I had been in ages sitting on that plaid blanket with Greyson, there was still a little voice in the back of my head telling me there were things to be done. I was going to have a lot of work to do when I got back to the hospital. I couldn’t silence the nagging thoughts, no matter how hard I tried. I could only tuck them aside to deal with later, when I left Greyson behind.

  “What about you?” I asked, resting my hands in my lap.

  Greyson lifted his eyebrows. “What about me?”

  “Tell me something about yourself.”

  Greyson feigned thoughtfulness by scratching the new scruff on his chin. “I’m a Taurus. I like dogs but am terrified of cats. I don’t trust them. The way they look at you is like they can see your aura or something. My favorite food is pizza.” He shot me a quick glance and grinned. “What else do you want to know?”

  I laughed. “I think you covered the most important things.”

  He nodded confidently. “I thought so too.” He checked his watch. “What do you say we head back?”

  “Sure,” I said, getting to my feet with his helping hand.

  Greyson rolled up the blanket, and I packed up the bag and slung it over my shoulder. He asked me to give it to him to carry, but I waved him off. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying it on my own, but thank you.” I smiled. I wasn’t used to a man wanting to do things for me. I w
asn’t used to a man wanting to do things to me, either.

  We walked through the park holding hands. Children played below us amongst pipes spouting water, and their joyful giggles fluttered up toward us. Brightly colored bathing suits stood out against the dullness of the pavement beneath their little bare feet.

  “Do you ever want kids?” Greyson asked.

  “I’ve never really thought it was an option,” I said honestly. “I’ve always been too busy to even consider trying to fit them into my lifestyle. I’d have to quit my job. And my job is my life.”

  “So I’ve heard.” He smiled.

  “What about you?”

  “I’ve always wanted a family,” Greyson said. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything else. One day, when the time is right, I know I’ll have one. Eventually.”

  I gave his hand a squeeze, and he squeezed back as our feet left the grass and struck the gravel of the parking lot.

  When we arrived at the bike, Greyson came to an abrupt stop. He pulled me back a step and into his side. I looked up at him, confused, as he stared dead ahead at a black SUV parked in the far corner of the lot. I looked from him to the car, trying to figure out what the problem was.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “No.” He shook his head and grabbed our helmets from the bike. All the while, his eyes watched the SUV.

  I shrugged my leather jacket back on and put on my gloves. Greyson geared up too, but he was only half paying attention to what he was doing. I watched him search for his keys in his pocket at least three times as the SUV reversed out of its parking spot and drove slowly down the lane behind the bike. Greyson watched it the whole time.

  “You’re sure everything is okay?” I asked again.

  Greyson blinked and nodded. “Yes. Sorry, everything is fine. Do you need help with your helmet?”

  “Yes, please,” I said, pulling it over my head and then tilting my face to the sky so he could do the strap up under my chin.

  When we were both fully geared up for the ride, Greyson got on the bike, and I climbed up behind him. I wrapped my arms around him again and wished I could smell him. All I could smell was the car freshener-esque aroma of the inside of my helmet.

 

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