by Mia Madison
She stood up and nodded as she smoothed her rumpled clothes. “Definitely. And thank you, for… everything.”
“You don’t need to thank me. I’ll walk you out whenever you’re ready.”
And just like that, with barely another word spoken between us, she was gone.
I watched and waved as she drove away, wishing again that I knew what had happened. Maybe I had rushed things too much. Maybe I had misread the signals I thought she was sending. It had been a long time since I’d been on anything resembling a date. Maybe I got carried away.
Hopefully she would understand.
Whatever the problem was, though, one thing was for certain. She needed space, and I was determined to give it to her.
The last thing I wanted to do was to fuck things up.
Bianca
For nearly two days — forty-six hours, not that I was counting — I had made myself miserable thinking about Miguel. Over and over again, I replayed our time together in my mind, wishing that I hadn’t ended it so abruptly.
It was all going so well — too well, in fact — and that was the problem. I let myself get carried away in the moment, and then when my brain realized where my heart was leading me, I got scared. Scared to keep going, because of what it would mean, how it would make me feel.
Scared that I might not be able to stop myself from wanting even more.
Scared shitless that I’d fall in love.
I’d hoped that a little time alone would give me some clarity, but after two days I was only missing him more. I liked him, and there was really no sense in denying it. Well, no sense in denying it to myself, at least.
I would just need to be careful. It had been months since I’d left Desmond, but was it still too soon to think about a new relationship? It didn’t feel like it was too soon, especially with each passing night that I spent alone in bed.
Still, though… how long did I have to wait until it didn’t count as a rebound anymore?
Whatever.
I didn’t have to commit to anything long-term with Miguel immediately. He wasn’t asking for that, and I didn’t have to offer it until I was ready. What I was ready for, though, was more of his company. I truly missed being around him, of hearing his voice, even after just two days of silence.
When I’d finally called him, he’d sounded so sweet, so sincerely happy to hear from me, that I hadn’t been able to help myself. I’d immediately concocted another excuse to see him. We hadn’t really been able to talk much about his personal style the last time we were together, and I invited him out for a little shopping. If I was being honest, it was the flimsiest excuse I’d ever come up with to see a man, but Miguel didn’t question it, and he didn’t make me feel bad.
Like always, he agreed to meet me the second I suggested it. How could anyone be that nice all the time? I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to turn into a lying, cheating asshole. But so far, he’d shown no signs of turning into That Guy.
Only time would tell.
Now, though, I could see him waiting for me through the large glass shop window. I took a deep breath as I got out of my car and walked into the store. I was determined to make the afternoon a success, to just enjoy being around him, without letting my mind complicate things. I owed him that much, after the way I’d rushed out before.
“You look beautiful,” he said, crossing the distance between us and leaning in to kiss me on the cheek as soon as I walked through the door.
“You’re not looking too bad, either,” I said with a wink. I meant it, too. He truly didn’t need much guidance in the style department. Every time I’d seen him, he’d been immaculately dressed, and today was no exception. Still, it would be fun to see if I could get him to wear something a little more adventurous than the slacks and button-downs he seemed to favor.
A loud and cheerful sales clerk made a beeline for us. “Good afternoon! Is there anything I can help you with?”
I had to struggle not to take a step back as she power-walked over to where we were standing. She was tall, leggy, and wearing way too many layers of makeup. Classic high-class Miami thot. She never even acknowledged me. Her question had been addressed to Miguel, but he simply shrugged and looked to me for guidance.
“We’re looking for something nice, but maybe a little less… formal. Maybe we can start with some shirts?”
Her eyes scaled me slightly, and a small “Hm” escaped her lips. Fake smile plastered, she nodded briskly and motioned for us to follow. As we walked, she looked back over her shoulder and tossed Miguel a wink. “It seems like your girlfriend knows what she likes.”
I cocked my head to the side. Was she testing me? Really?
“Oh, she’s not, I mean, we’re not, um…” Miguel blushed a little as he fumbled over his words, apparently eager to correct Miss Helpful about our relationship status.
“We’re just friends,” I finished for him, giving her a smile that was equal parts polite and bitchy when she finally turned her surprised face in my direction.
“Really? Hm.” She immediately dismissed me, turned back to Miguel and started gathering shirts for him to try on. “This one would look really good with your eyes. And your smile.”
Okay. If there had been any question before, there wasn’t anymore. Miss Shady McGrady wanted my — Miguel. And I didn’t like it.
The more she talked, the more she laughed and cooed and fawned, the more I wanted to scream. Miguel was oblivious, of course, no doubt just thinking she was being polite and helpful. But having dated highly desired men – like He Who Shall Not Be Named – I knew a thirsty broad when I saw one. There was no mistaking the way she was looking at him, though. Not as far as I was concerned. I could tell she wanted to suck him until he bone dry.
I was surprised at the surge of jealousy. I was used to being with guys who garnered a lot of female attention, after all. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe I was tired of sharing men like Desmond.
… Or perhaps I wanted Miguel all to myself — even if I wasn’t ready to come right out and say it. Because when she placed her expensive manicure against his chest under the pretense of admiring the fabric of his shirt, I nearly lost it.
“I think we’re done here,” I interrupted, not giving a single shit that I’d caused them both to look at me with wide-eyed shock. I took Miguel’s arm and threw an icy glance in her direction before I could stop myself. “I just don’t see anything here that would look good on you, I’m afraid.”
The saleswoman snorted, and I had to hold back a laugh as she rolled her eyes and stepped back.
Sorry, sweetie. He might not be mine, but he’s damn sure not gonna be yours.
I didn’t wait to hear anything else she might have to say, though. I grabbed Miguel by the hand and led him back out the door. Completely amused by my behavior, I smiled up at him when we were finally out in the warm sunshine again.
“Everything okay?” He asked, furrowing his brow as he peered down at me.
“Couldn’t be better. I just got tired of watching her paw you.”
Miguel looked at me as if I’d grown a second head. “She was what? No…”
“Yes, she definitely was. And I got…” I nibbled my lip as my voice trailed off. How much was I ready to tell him? “I didn’t like it. You can do better.”
“You think so?”
“No question about it.” I took his hand. “Now, the good news is that I don’t think you needed my help — or hers — at all today. You’re looking good, and I don’t really think I need to interfere with your style.”
“Really? I passed this part on my own?” The corners of his mouth twitched. “But what else can you teach me? I’m ready to keep learning how to make a woman happy.”
His voice was playful, but there was something else, a yearning undercurrent of desire that was already making my heart beat faster.
“I’m sure we can think of something…”
He pulled me close and bent down to plant a kiss on m
y neck. “Oh?”
His breath was hot on my skin, and it took everything in me not to close my eyes and moan in the middle of the parking lot.
“Definitely,” I panted. “My place?”
No sooner had I said the words than he’d whisked me back to my car. “I’ll follow you there.”
This was definitely not the original plan. This was not taking it slow. This was not being cautious with my heart.
And I didn’t give a damn.
The moment we were inside my apartment, his hands were on me. His mouth was on me. But it wasn’t enough. I needed him closer. I needed his hands on my skin.
His fingers played along the hem of my shirt, lightly touching my sides, my back. I couldn’t take it. Impatiently, I shrugged out of my shirt and unzipped the skirt I was wearing, letting it fall to the floor.
But if I’d been hoping for more contact, undressing had the opposite effect. Miguel sucked in a sharp breath and took a step back, letting his eyes roam over my nearly-naked body.
“My God,” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”
Normally, the way he was looking at me and talking about my body would have made me blush, but with Miguel it felt so right. So perfect. And it only made me want him even more.
I stepped closer, but instead of waiting for him to touch me, I took the initiative, letting my hands drop to his belt, then the buttons and zipper of his pants.
He threw his shirt aside at the same time I pulled his pants and underwear down. I wrapped my hand around his hard cock, not caring at all that we were practically naked in my foyer.
I pushed him against the wall and dropped to my knees. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open when I looked up to meet his gaze. Each time I stroked him, a little whimper escaped his lips, completely at odds with the wide frame, the muscles, the pure masculinity of his body.
A shudder went through his entire body as I took him into my mouth, lapping at the head with my tongue as I continued to slowly stroke him. I moaned as I tasted the evidence of his arousal, the salty sweet musk of his precum driving me over the edge.
“So good,” he moaned, gently thrusting his hips as he threaded his fingers through my hair.
I ran my hands along his thighs, lightly scratching the backs of his legs as he pulled me further down on his cock. He was starting to take control, and it was making me want him more and more with each passing second.
“Miguel,” I gasped, letting his cock slide from my lips for a moment as I caught my breath. “I want you to fuck me, please. Now.”
I looked up to see his eyes go impossibly wide. He nodded slowly.
“Are you sure? I mean, I want to, but…”
“But what?” I raised up from the floor to meet his eyes. Something was off. He hadn’t been hesitating about anything just a few seconds before. “If you’re worried about me, don’t be. I’m—”
“No, that’s not it,” he said. “It’s just that I’m, um…”
I raised my eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“I’ve never been with a woman — like that — before.”
I blinked. Wait, what? “You’ve never…” It was my turn to be surprised when I finally understood what he was saying. “You’re a virgin?”
He nodded. “I mean, I’ve done other stuff, but…” He rolled his eyes and shoved a hand back through his hair. “It sounds stupid, but I just always wanted it to be with a woman I loved and cared for. A woman I wanted to be with.”
“I don’t think that sounds stupid at all,” I said, quietly. “I think that sounds really sweet. Really, really sweet. And I admire it. But that doesn’t get you off the hook.”
He laughed. “What do you mean?”
I took his hand and led him toward my bedroom. “I mean that even though we don’t have to have sex, there’s still plenty of other things we can do. Together. In bed.”
“You really are amazing. Do you know how amazing you are?”
I smiled. “What if I said you’re the amazing one? Would you believe me?”
He shrugged and gently pulled me down onto my bed. “We can agree to disagree. Besides, there’s other things we could be doing right now.”
I kissed him and wrapped my hand around his still-rock-hard cock. “Agreed.”
And even though there was no chance of having sex — no way was I going to rob him of that experience with a woman he really loved — I had never felt happier to just be with a man. To be close, and intimate. To kiss and touch and explore.
It was almost better than sex.
Miguel
I held the phone away from my ear as I yawned. Even though Ted, my accountant, had handled my finances for long enough to know that I had absolutely no interest in the intricacies of tax deductions and annual percentage yields, I still didn’t want to be rude. I valued the job he did for me, even if I would have preferred to spend less time talking about it.
“So basically, you’re in a really strong position this year if you want to give a little extra to your usual charities.”
I perked up as that last sentence sunk in. “Just a second, Ted. Sorry, can we back up a little?”
“Absolutely,” he said, sounding surprised that I was even still on the line. “Where did I lose you?”
“I just want to clarify what you mean by ‘give a little extra.’ Like, how much extra?”
“Well, if you’re earnings stay on track for the fourth quarter, you could easily need a deduction of seventy-five thousand. Maybe even a hundred thousand.”
My eyebrows shot up. “That’s about twice what I needed last year, isn’t it?”
“I don’t have the numbers in front of me from last year, but yeah, that sounds about right. You’ve done pretty well for yourself this year, Miguel.”
I nodded, then belatedly realized that he couldn’t see the gesture. “Yeah, I’ve negotiated some pretty big contracts this season. But still… damn.” Then, a thought hit me. A really fucking amazing thought. “Say, Ted… What if it wasn’t necessarily a charity? What if it was an investment? Like… a new company. A startup.”
“Sure, that could potentially work. It would depend on a few factors — the timing, whether the company is showing a loss — things like that. I’d need more details before I could tell you for sure, but—”
“Okay, great,” I said, cutting him off. “That’s all I need to know right now, thanks. I’ll get back to you soon.”
By the time I hung up the phone, the idea had taken hold, and I knew it was something I wanted to do. To hell with waiting on other potential investors and jumping through hoops. I’d fund Bianca’s studio myself.
Just thinking about it made me smile.
I wasn’t sure how she’d feel about it, though. Would she even be okay with a gift like that? Would she think it was weird? Or worse, that I expected something in return?
There was nothing I wanted more than to help her. It was clear that she put her heart and soul into what she did, and I’d seen the results firsthand in the way my sister’s friend had transformed herself over the previous weeks that she’d been going to Bianca’s classes.
But there was another aspect to it, too. Bianca was a good person, and she deserved the chance to succeed. And I would’ve probably felt that way even if I didn’t have feelings for her—although there was no point in pretending like I didn’t.
In my heart, I felt like she was The One. The one I’d been waiting for all this time. But how in the world was I supposed to tell her that? And what if she didn’t feel the same way?
Sure, we’d had a lot of fun together, but I was thinking about something different. Something long-term. And she’d made it clear to me that she wasn’t eager to settle down with someone again. I wasn’t sure if she was over the pain of her breakup with Desmond, and I wasn’t about to try and rush her into something she wasn’t ready for.
I really didn’t know what to do, or what the future would bring. I did know two things, though. One, that I was going to fi
nd a way to give her that money, no matter what. And two, that I was going to enjoy every minute I got to spend with her.
We’d have plenty of time to figure out the future. I damn sure wasn’t going to take the present for granted.
By the time Bianca got to my house that night, I had already picked up the phone a half-dozen times to call her. Each time, though, I put the phone down without dialing. Part of me wanted to tell her the good news — that I’d be able to fund her studio on my own. But another part, the rational part of me, still wasn’t sure how she’d react.
And then, when I finally saw her, it was difficult to think about anything at all. No matter how many times I held her close, I never seemed to get over the mesmerizing effect she had on me.
I never wanted to get over it.
“Did you miss me?” She asked, even though there was no way she could have doubted the answer.
“Always.” I pressed myself against her, showing her just how much every part of me had missed her.
It had been nearly a week since that night in her apartment. We’d seen each other twice since then, and had spoken on the phone every day, sometimes several times a day, but it hadn’t been enough. Whenever she was away from me, all I could think about was having her in my arms again.
And when she was finally — finally — in my arms, her silky soft skin and hair and lips right there in front of me, it was intoxicating.
“I missed you, too,” she said, her voice syrupy with desire.
That was all it took for me. Business could wait. I needed this woman. I needed her naked in front of me, on top of me.
I needed to taste her.
“God, do you know what you do to me?” I scooped her into my arms, eliciting a happy squeal from her. Her body was warm and soft against mine, and I had to stop myself from getting her naked right there in the hallway.
Even though I knew we had all night — and that we’d take all night — slowing down to savor the moment was almost like torture.