by Mia Kayla
Way to ruin the moment.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to be sexy and get out of my pajamas but totally failing.”
He chuckled, his tone thick and husky and unbelievably horny.
“Why are you with me again?”
“Because you’re you, and I love my Sunshine,” he uttered the words without hesitation and not in the throes of passion but also with no inflection of emotion in his voice either. It was as if he were saying, I love chocolate.
I wondered if he meant it.
He hadn’t asked me how I felt about him, but it was too soon for me. Saying the love word out loud would only make me susceptible to heartache.
“I want to see you, Sunshine. All of you.”
When I finally was able to undo the knot, I released an exaggerated sigh of accomplishment. My underwear was horrendous, but I wasn’t planning on giving my boyfriend a show.
“One second.” After I pushed myself to my knees and chucked off my pajamas and underwear. I fell against the mattress in a big thud and picked up the phone.
“You all right there?”
“Yes,” I said breathlessly even though I was breathless for a whole other reason. “Are you sure no one is watching?”
“Do you think I want anyone to see my girlfriend?”
I should have slipped off my shirt in the process, but now that I was comfortable against my pillows, I got lazy.
“Turn on your camera, so I can watch you.” His tone was gruff and on the verge of desperation.
I shifted with unease. It felt forbidden in a way that made me uncomfortable.
When I positioned the camera at the right angle above my lips, his breath hitched.
“Open up for me, baby.” His breathing labored as I did what I had been told. “Wider.”
I guessed I could follow directions after all.
“Now, touch yourself.”
My fingers went between the apex of my legs, and he groaned louder.
“Shit, one second.” I placed the phone on the bed, anchoring it against the comforter so he could still watch.
“That doesn’t mean I want you to stop. I’m harder than a diamond right now.”
I tried to relax and let all inhibitions go. I’d never done this with anyone before—have a boyfriend watch me while I got off. There was a different level of intimacy involved.
“Touch yourself, Sunshine. I want to see you.”
And I did while he stroked himself.
Loud guttural sounds escaped his mouth. If there was any doubt about what we were doing or what he was doing in the bathroom, it was obvious now for the whole bus to hear.
I closed my eyes, picturing it was Hawke inside me, his lean body on top of mine, his warm lips against my lips. And that was when the first of the tingling in the base of my spine initiated.
“Let go, sweetness. Pretend it’s me right inside you and let go.” Hawke’s breathing increased over the phone, and I heard the loud thud of the cell hitting the floor. “I’m coming.”
The sensation spread through my legs, building up and peaking, until I screamed his name, gripping my comforter to keep me steady as I entered blissful nirvana. Limbs shaking, breathing labored, my whole body quivered with sensation, and stars formed behind my closed eyes as we’d obtained the level of ecstasy together.
When my breathing slowed, I cleaned myself up and curled to my side, all of a sudden feeling empty and cold and alone.
I missed him so badly that the familiar ache in my chest intensified.
I brought the phone to my ear and rested it against my pillow. Hawke’s beautiful face was in plain view, which only made that ache increase.
The sound of water coming from the sink echoed through the receiver. “What’s the sad tone for?”
This wasn’t enough.
I blew out a breath. “I just miss the real thing. Miss you.” My heart constricted at the distance between us, at the reality of our relationship. This was going to be our norm now.
“Soon, I’ll be right there beside you.”
“Okay,” I said, trying to let his words lift my spirits. I hugged the pillow closer against me, forcing warmth back into my body and wishing I were holding my boyfriend instead.
The next few weeks couldn’t speed up fast enough.
Chapter 19
The next day, right after work, I rushed home to get ready for dinner with Josh’s family. After a sweep of gloss on my lips and a dab of blush on my cheeks, I changed into a floral dress and cardigan.
When I finished, I reached for Hawke’s phone in the bottom of my purse to check if he had called, but he hadn’t. I’d received a few random texts from him, telling me where he was, and in return, I’d texted him about parts of my day, taking pictures of what I had been baking.
The door buzzer broke me from my thoughts. I slipped on my jean jacket and checked my hair in the mirror hanging behind the door one last time, and then I opened the door.
“Hey,” Josh said. A nervous smile played on his lips.
I pressed my back flush against the wall to let him in, my eyes taking in his attire. He looked business casual in a cream polo shirt and slacks. His hair was parted to the side, which only accentuated his young features. He was Gap, J.Crew, Banana Republic. All of the above. You couldn’t take the yuppie out of the shoe salesman.
I tugged self-consciously at my skirt. “Am I underdressed?”
A dimple emerged on his cheek, subtle but noticeably there. “No. You look”—he paused, as though he were searching for the right word—“perfect.”
My ears warmed from the compliment and from the way his eyes scoured my face. “Thanks.” I slugged his shoulder in a friendly way. It was my go-to when Josh had me all flustered.
When we walked out of my apartment building, his newly waxed BMW was sitting against the curb. I could practically see my reflection; it was so shiny.
“Oh, you’re so fancy. I see we’re taking the Beemer today.”
He automatically reached for my hand and intertwined our fingers, our hands drawn together like bagels and cream cheese. After he opened the door, I slid into the car.
“If we could take public transportation to where I used to live, I would. It’s better than taking the car they bought me when I graduated. Another bribe gift.”
When we were on the highway, I started to sense his anxiety from the way he rubbed the back of his neck, the crease between his eyes, and the way he chewed on the corner of his mouth, as though it were his snack.
“Josh?”
He didn’t answer, seeming lost in thought, his eyes blankly staring at the cars in front of us.
“Josh,” I said louder.
He turned and blinked, finally breaking out of his daze. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I offered my hand, palm up, and he didn’t hesitate as he linked our fingers.
The strain in his shoulders relaxed at my touch. Funny how that worked—how a gentle touch calmed us both.
“You’ll be fine,” I soothed.
His eyes focused back on the road. “I only believe it because it’s coming from your mouth.”
The rest of the ride was silent, and my eyes widened, the farther we drove from the city. The houses seemed to morph into bigger and badder residences. I lowered my window, taking in the sights of the manicured lawns and the scent of the fresh air mixed with the newly cut grass.
Josh pulled down the long drive way and stopped at the front security station. Out of the miniature house by the gate came a guard, tall in stature and dressed in all black. He walked to our car and smiled. His teeth were the whitest teeth I’d ever seen, a contrast to his dark suit and bronze skin.
“Josh.” The guard’s eyes squinted, lighting up.
“My man, Stan.”
They did a unique handshake, and I couldn’t help but laugh at their interaction.
“You haven’t been home in months.”
Josh nodded, seeming a little sheepish.
“Yeah, I’ve been busy.”
The guard peered into the car and gave me a small wave. “I see that. Is this your woman?”
“Nope.” Josh cupped one hand by his mouth and coughed out, “Not yet.”
I shook my head, but again, I laughed. Josh couldn’t help his charm. It was embedded in his DNA.
Stan placed his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “One of the most real and genuine guys you’ll ever meet.” Stan, the man—aka Josh’s wingman—stepped away and tapped the top of the car. “Josh, don’t be a stranger. Nice meeting you, young lady.”
The iron gate swung open, and my eyes took in the rolling meadows, green lawn, and the massive mansion in the horizon.
Josh’s eyes flickered toward my direction. I couldn’t do anything but blink, press my nose to the window, and take in the curved driveway bordered with lilies and roses. The flowers seemed to separate Josh’s parents’ house from the glitz and glam of the others. The driveway widened out and circled to a front entrance, an expansive entryway with dark wood double doors.
A sheepish grin touched his face. “This is actually a downgrade from our house in Manhattan.”
My eyebrows flew to the roof of the car.
“But I won’t let what I had frame who I want to be.” He let out a long breath. “Ready?” He shifted the car into park, stepped out, and opened my door.
He was so focused on the entrance, like the boogeyman was inside, that it made my stomach churn.
“It’s fine.” I bumped my shoulder against his. “They haven’t met Sammy, the Softy. She turns mean, grumpy old grandfathers into big, huggable teddy bears.” I smiled to ease the tension in the air, and it worked when I saw the corner of his mouth tick up.
“Sammy, the Softy? Really?”
It had been the first thing to pop into my mind. I shrugged. “Let’s go.”
At the door, he entered a code, and we stepped into the foyer. I heard laughter coming from somewhere inside.
I lifted my head, noting the high ceilings, chandelier, and crown molding that accented the room. A double staircase fanned in the front, leading to the second floor.
“Homies, I’m home,” Josh cooed playfully.
If it weren’t for the light sweat from his palm clasped against mine, I wouldn’t have even thought he was nervous.
I plastered a smile on my face, ready for the evil man. This situation had pushed out my protective side. Hardly anything rattled Josh, so the little that did had me on edge and ready to rumble. I mean, how bad could Grandpa be?
Josh’s dad, Albert Stanton III, entered the room. His friendly demeanor was that of what I remembered when I had seen him at the restaurant for Josh’s birthday. Casey and her boyfriend strolled in right next to Albert Stanton II, the grandfather.
His grayish hair was parted neatly to the side and had a little wave, just like Josh’s. But that was where the similarities ceased.
His grandfather’s stern eyes scanned me from the top of my head to the bottom of my non-designer shoes. The chill in his stare froze the blood pumping through my veins.
“Joshua.”
If you listened hard enough, you could hear the disappointment in his tone, as though Josh’s name should have been Albert Stanton IV.
“Grandfather.” Josh released my hand, approached him, and pulled him into a genuine Josh hug.
I tried to ignore the way his grandfather’s whole body stiffened, as though he weren’t accustomed to the physical contact.
Josh motioned for me to come over. “I’d like for you to meet Sam.”
“It’s great to meet you. I’m Al.” His firm hand took mine in a friendly shake, a contrast to his judgmental eyes. Then, he turned to Josh, dropping my hand. “Where’s Jennifer?”
Josh’s face blanched, his jaw tightened. His voice was tense as he said, “We broke up. You know this.” The chill in the air dropped to arctic cold.
If Josh had thought me coming along for this family dinner would lighten the mood, he’d been wrong. From Al’s face, I could tell I was subpar compared to Jennifer.
“Well, who’s hungry?” Casey slipped her arm through mine. “Sam, it’s great seeing you again. Let’s go to the dining area.”
I smiled graciously. She had a knack for shifting the awkwardness in the air.
She squeezed my arm and discreetly said, “Old G looks a bit hard at first, but deep down, he’s a big, fluffy panda.”
I glanced back at the older male, who had a permanent frown etched on his face. Panda? More likely a grizzly bear that would maul you when you turned your back.
“Robert, dear, have you met Josh’s Sam?” Casey motioned to the taller male.
Robert was the only one wearing a suit jacket, and I wondered if he had just strolled in from a work event. The crease in his pants only accented his height. His slicked-back hair and dark green eyes reminded me of a banker.
“Hi, I’m Josh’s friend.” I took his hand in mine and gave him a firm handshake.
Robert quirked an eyebrow and shared a knowing glance with Casey. “It’s nice to meet you.”
It was obvious that Josh had mentioned me to his sister. Taking in her secret smile, I wondered if he had divulged my life story.
“Friend, eh?” His face broke out into a smile. “That’s a first. In high school, girls fell at his feet.”
I frowned. “Oh, I thought he was with Jenny all through high school.”
“That didn’t stop other girls from trying.” Casey laughed as we entered the dining room.
A long chestnut dining table spanned the center of the room, surrounded by twelve chairs with exquisite carvings along the edges. The fine china plates on the table were outlined with a trim of gold and set with what looked like sterling silver flatware.
“Do you want a drink, Sam?” Casey tipped her head toward her brother and called out, “Hey, Joshy, take Sam with you to the wine cellar.”
When Josh’s eyes met mine, he threw me a thankful smile, all teeth. He held up a finger and excused himself from his father and grandfather. “I’m going to take Sam on a tour. I’ll be back.”
Al’s disapproving eyes were like laser beams focused on the middle of my forehead, but I ignored him.
Josh gestured with his chin toward the kitchen door, and I followed. After entering the kitchen through the double doors, my nose was bombarded with a glorious whiff of basil and paprika and also the scent of something sweet. I scanned the area, appreciating the stainless steel professional oven. An older woman was setting the food on the kitchen island. She had a head of gray hair that hung below her chin and a grin so wide, I could see all her teeth.
“Joshy!” She practically bum-rushed him.
He picked up the tiny lady and swung her around. “Nora, my favorite person in the world.”
She grabbed his face with her wrinkled hands, looking comically shorter than him as she held him. “Look at you. You’re getting handsomer every day.”
She pinched his cheeks, and Josh winced.
“Was there any doubt?” he said with a laugh.
When she released him, her eyes became fixed on mine, suddenly all-knowing. “So, you must be Sam.”
“I am.” I threw Joshy a sideways glance, wondering what he’d told this woman.
“I’m Nora.” She took my hand in hers, and the warmth radiated up my arm. She exuded peace and kindness and warmth. “She’s beautiful, Josh. Your description of her didn’t do her justice.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “So, what did Josh say about me?” I asked, my tone pinched and playful.
“Only the bad stuff,” he joked.
Her eyes crinkled at the sides. “He told me a few things. About how he met the most beautiful, sassiest girl by selling her shoes and how she’s the best cook in the world. At one time, I was the best cook in the world. Cooked for this boy since he was an infant. Now, he seems to have moved on.” Her eyes lit up with an inner glow.
Josh motioned between us. “It’s really a close tie.”
“Boy, don’t lie to your Nora.” She shook Josh’s arm. “This man right here is one of a kind. You’ll never find another like him.” She patted his heart. “Right here—this is what good men are made of.”
It was Josh’s turn to blush, and I laughed. It was fun, seeing him in the hot seat. We were a lot alike in where we didn’t take compliments well.
“I should know,” Nora said. “I raised this boy.”
He pulled her in and kissed the top of her head. Internally, I swooned at the sweet gesture.
“Yes, Mom and Nora were the best of friends. I’m sure she can tell you stories of when I wasn’t much of an angel, but we must get wine.” He pointed to the cellar in an exaggerated motion and slung an arm around my neck. “I only take the special girls to the cellar.” He winked. “Sometimes, they never make their way back.”
“Nice meeting you, Nora!” I yelled behind me as Josh tugged me toward the stairs.
The dark gray walls narrowed, the farther we descended.
Even though I knew Josh had been joking about not making my way back, my skin chilled at the drop in temperature. “Um, should I be afraid?”
His hand squeezed mine. “Remember? I’m your Prince Charming, white horse and all. I won’t let the boogeyman get you.”
We walked down a narrow hall and entered a massive wine cellar that would rival any restaurant. The soft purr of the cooling machine filled my ears, and I angled closer to Josh, feeling the cold in the cellar. Smooth racks of cherry wood were situated on the wall, holding endless bottles of wine. The low light overhead shone on the labels.
Jaw opened and in awe, I took in row upon row of bottles organized by date.
“So, what’re you thinking?” Josh asked, spreading his arms wide for me to pick.
“I’m not a wine connoisseur or anything. I’m sure you know more than me.”
“No, you’re the chef,” he encouraged.
“A pastry chef,” I corrected. “I know dessert wine, like what goes with cheesecake, custard fruit tarts, and apple pie. Other than that, I know nothing.”
Josh peered over my shoulder and pulled one out, holding the brown tag attached to the neck of the bottle. “Each one is sorted by the name of the wine, the vineyard it came from, its type, and the vintage.”