Bailey took his card, turned, and went to the passenger side of her car, but then turned back.
“Your shoes.”
“I beg your pardon?” His head darted down and back at her.
“Under the table ... I was trying to see your shoes. Very nice.” She smirked at seeing his head cocked to the side before he looked down again, and then back at her. The right corner of his mouth curved up slightly once more. “Good night, Mr. Marx.” She got in the car, and Sienna wasted no time peeling out.
Chapter Five
“Don’t stop.”
Bailey squirmed and rocked her pussy against his skillful tongue, her fingers snaking into the thick waves of his hair to the back of his neck, keeping his mouth sealed tight on her throbbing clit. His hands squeezed her buttocks as his tongue speared her sex again and again before returning to her clit.
“You like that, don’t you?” Two thick stiff fingers thrust in and out of her clenching channel with precise, momentum before Lucas parted the folds of her labia and worked his tongue in slow circles, then pushed her legs back, spreading her wide, and devoured her with his mouth, slurping her cream, swirling his tongue in and out of her pussy, back and forth, not missing a single ounce of her flesh.
“Oh, yes, right there.” She moaned as his hot mouth trailed a wicked path upward, licking her quivering body, and captured the peak of an achingly hard nipple between his teeth, while his fingers maintained a deep measured thrusting in and out of her soaking wet sheath. “Oh my God! Don’t stop, Lucas, I’m going to come.” The delicious sensation was so overwhelming, a low continuous hum reverberated every nerve ending throughout her frenzied body. The intensity grew with each thrust of his swift moving fingers, so harsh, so loud, so intense ...
Bailey jolted upright in her bed. Her breathing labored, she expelled a shaky breath as she silenced the blare of the alarm clock, then lay back down, pressing her head deep into the pillow. Her skin was clammy. The crotch of her panties was soaking wet. She was so close. Ugh, I just met the man and now I’m dreaming about him going down on me. What the hell? She left the bed in need of a really cool shower.
About forty-five minutes later, she sat on the edge of the bed to slip on her sneakers and hastily tied them up. She hadn’t gotten much sleep. Her body had called it a night the moment she crawled into bed, but her mind was restless for hours. Then came the scorching hot wet dream she’d had. Lucas Marx. She couldn’t stop thinking about the man. He’d actually waited for her outside the café, even apologized for that pathetic line. Truth be told, it kind of impressed her, even though he’d likely said it in the hopes of getting her on her back.
There was no denying that she was attracted to the man—her dream of him proved that—with his steady blue-gray gaze and sculptured physique that had her close to salivating. Heck, what woman wouldn’t be? That said, she was very familiar with his type.
Remembering his card that she’d placed in her wallet, she reached across the bed for her satchel and pulled it out. The crisp white lettering was printed on black, heavy card stock. His e-mail and phone number were printed below an embossed red line at the bottom edge.
Having wasted enough time thinking and dreaming about the man, she stuck the card back into her wallet and went to her closet to get her new babies—a pair of black, Italian leather, peep-toe sling backs that she placed in her satchel. She’d saved for two months to buy the pair.
Having exorbitant student loan debt, she was very frugal with her money and could stretch a dollar. Except when it came to her shoes. They were her one weakness.
She checked her appearance one last time in the full-length mirror attached to the front of the closet door. Her gray pinstripe skirt was accompanied by Sienna’s borrowed, red silk, sleeveless blouse. It coordinated nicely with her shoes’ red under-soles.
Her hair was still slightly damp, but the curls were behaving with the help of the glob of mousse she’d worked in to tame them.
Deciding her appearance was as good as it was going to get, she left her bedroom and made her way to the kitchen.
“Good morning,” she said to Sienna seated at the breakfast bar, eating cereal with a side of buttered toast and flipping through one of her art magazines.
“Morning, chica.” Sienna grinned as she chewed. She ate another spoonful and chewed while saying, “Bails, you need to know something.”
“What’s up?” Bailey stole a bite of toast on her way to the fridge, grabbing from it a prepackaged salad. She then stepped over to the breakfast bar and gave a tug at the red blouse. “I borrowed this as you can see. I was going—” Her words lodged in her throat. What the hell? The sight of the individual coming toward her drew her pause. Faith.
“Good morning, all.” Faith entered the living room wearing Sienna’s robe. Her blonde hair was gathered and secured on top of her head with one of Bailey’s hair scrunchies. She went to where Bailey stood catatonic and gave her a hug. “Bails, it’s so good to see you.”
Snapping out of her momentary coma, Bailey hugged her former roommate, while giving Sienna a perplexed look over Faith’s shoulder, wanting an explanation. Painting on a smile, she drew back. “Hey, girl, Sienna didn’t tell me you were in town.”
“Surprise.” Sienna grinned. “That’s what I was about to tell you. She arrived early this morning. I had her sleep in my room. We didn’t want our gabbing to wake you.”
Faith went to the fridge and took out the orange juice carton, followed by a glass from the cupboard. She brought both over to the breakfast bar and poured as she said, “I hope it’s not too much of an imposition for me to stay.”
Bailey knew that statement was primarily directed at her; Faith drank her juice while studying her over the rim of the glass.
“I told Faith it was cool. Bails, you’re cool with it, right?” Sienna subtly arched her brows behind Faith’s back.
Bailey was indeed irritated that Sienna would have Faith stay with them without first discussing it with her. There was history there, and not all of it was good history.
The three had been tight as glue from that first day they’d met at freshman orientation up until their senior year. Faith sleeping with Bailey’s boyfriend changed all of that. Bailey had returned a day earlier than expected from winter break and found Andrew and Faith in bed. Both claimed they’d been drinking and things just got out of hand.
Bailey wasn’t stupid. She knew jealousy was part of the underlying reason Faith betrayed her. She’d heard from Sienna that Faith’s boyfriend at the time once remarked that he had a crush on Bailey. He was drunk as usual when he’d made the comment. Faith took it to heart and cut him loose, but held the remark over Bailey’s head.
Whenever Faith was rebounding, she’d get wasted and end up doing something stupid, like when she threw another ex’s laptop and flat-screen TV out of his third-floor dorm window after she caught him cheating on her. Birds of a feather ... If it weren’t for the guy’s roommates pinning Faith flat to the floor, the poor girl she’d found him with would’ve been the next to take flight. She did manage to toss the girl’s clothes out of the window before she was pinned down.
Georgetown was ready to expel Faith, but her father was a contributing alumnus and, most importantly, a respected judge. He wrote an apology accompanied by a really big donation, and all was right again in the Faith Sullivan world.
Though Faith’s betrayal left a fissure in their friendship, Bailey got past it. As far as she was concerned, her ex, Andrew, wasn’t worth ending their friendship, and Bailey soon discovered that Faith wasn’t the only girl Andrew had slept with during their relationship. Soon after Bailey ended things with him, another girl approached her and said Andrew had gotten her pregnant. So, Faith sleeping with the scumbag sort of did her a favor.
What Bailey had a hard time genuinely forgiving Faith for was the night she and Sienna were awakened and pulled from their beds by a police canine unit. They sat side by side, handcuffed, as their apartment was searched
for contraband. Bailey and Sienna insisted that the officers had the wrong address until they were questioned for information on a Faith Sullivan and her then boyfriend, Dale Carter. Turned out, Dale was maintaining a pretty large drug operation on and off campus.
Faith claimed she didn’t know about Dale’s drug involvement, even though she’d accompanied him on several trips to New York.
Dale was arrested and given twenty-eight months—it was his second offense. Faith was not charged. Dale signed a statement written in his own hand that stated Faith knew nothing about his purchase of and intent to sell an illegal substance.
Bailey still strongly believed that Faith’s father somehow had a hand in Dale disconnecting Faith from his wrongdoings.
Though Faith broke it off with Dale after the search and seizure of their apartment, Bailey, and even Sienna, who always forgave Faith for every screw up she made, had had enough. They kicked Faith out, and she moved back home to Massachusetts. That was a little over two years ago. The last Bailey and Sienna heard about Faith was that she’d been keeping a low profile at her family’s home in Cape Cod.
Even with all the craziness Faith had subjected them to, it was nice seeing her again. They’d really missed her. What concerned Bailey was that wherever the girl showed her head, trouble was usually not too far behind.
“Faith, how long are you in town?” Bailey asked her, and those cool, aquamarine eyes beneath sun-blonde winged lashes met hers briefly.
“I haven’t decided.” She finished her orange juice and poured another glass.
“Like Sienna said, you’re more than welcome to stay here. We only have the two bedrooms now, as you can see.” They all looked at one another, each reading the other’s thoughts. Following the police raid, Bailey and Sienna were evicted from their three-bedroom apartment the very next day, their belongings literally dumped on the street.
“It may not look it, but the sofa’s actually pretty comfortable,” Sienna said as she rose from her barstool and brought her bowl to the sink.
Bailey stuck her salad in her pack and grabbed her keys off the counter. She strolled to the door, but paused with her hand on the doorknob at Sienna’s call out to her from the kitchen.
“Don’t forget, we’re meeting Kevin and Diego at the club for drinks after work. They know it’s our day off at Nuagé, so no excuses, capisce?” Sienna winked. “Kev said he and Diego will have some new songs in their set tonight. They played a sample for me the other day. It’s really good.”
“I guess I’ll be there.” Bailey sighed. The girl was aware that she was trying to limit her social involvement with her ex, Kevin, to prevent him from getting the wrong idea. Kevin would use any opportunity to try to sweet talk her into starting things up again between them. She tried to avoid that conversation at all costs.
Before the door closed behind her, Bailey heard Sienna add, “Oh, and I want Faith to meet Diego.” That was also her friend’s way of letting her know that she’d invited Faith and had already relayed the four-one-one on Kevin and Bailey’s involvement. Thinking over how she felt about that on her way to her car, she spotted Kevin just as he was climbing out of a woman’s Jeep. They made eye contact, and he gave her a nod. He said a few final words to the woman and then headed over to Bailey standing at her Honda.
They had attempted a relationship the prior summer that lasted about six months. Even after she’d told him she wasn’t ready to have sex, that she’d recently dealt with a cheating ex, he still wanted to date her. So, for those six months, the poor man had coped with a constant hard-on, and she’d expected the next six months to be no different. It wasn’t fair to him, so she ended the relationship.
It wasn’t that she didn’t find Kevin attractive. On the contrary. Bailey was initially awestruck by the man the first time they met when she and Sienna moved into the ground floor apartment across from him. She found his long dreads, which he kept dyed a warm shade of blonde and tied back from his masculine features, very appealing.
He’d said he was part Native American, Algonquian ancestry, which would explain his smooth, mocha-brown skin tone, dark chocolate eyes, and high cheekbones that complimented his African American broad nose and full, supple lips.
Kevin played both the guitar and the sax—a total turn-on. Bailey went often to see him perform with his band. They both loved the arts, exploring the museums, rooted for the Washington Redskins, and both favored the Yankees, except when they went up against the Nationals. It was sacrilege to do otherwise. But despite all their similar interests, something was missing. She didn’t know what it was exactly, but had realized that friendship was all she could offer Kevin. Yet he didn’t hide that he still wanted more.
“Hey, Kev.”
“Good morning, lovely.” An awkward twist curved his lips before he kissed her cheek.
“Thanks again for fixing my car.” She tossed her bag on the passenger seat, got behind the wheel, started it up after a few pumps of the brakes, and brought down the window.
Kevin closed the car door and leaned in. “I didn’t fix it. I put a Band-Aid on it. Among the many other problems, it has a slow oil leak. I added a can and put an extra one in your trunk. You really need to put it out of its misery, doll.” Looking at her, he sighed and stood up. “Uh, about that woman, I—”
“You don’t owe me an explanation. It’s good that you’re seeing someone.”
“Bailey—”
“Kev, we’ve long since broken up, like close to seven months, and now we’re great friends.”
“That’s your preference, not mine.” His tone was rough, agitated.
“Kevin, let’s not do this.” Their sudden quiet stretched uncomfortably long. Breaking the tension, she shifted the gear in reverse. Thankfully, he relented with a nod.
“How about I meet you for lunch?” he suggested.
Bailey rested a hand on top of the one he had planted on the car door. Why couldn’t she feel more for him? Kevin was handsome, educated, and he was always looking out for her and Sienna. He was the type of man to whom her parents would easily give their approval.
“I can’t today. I’m swamped. Actually, I’m running late. I really should get going.” She would’ve said yes to lunch, but knew he wouldn’t let it end with just lunch. He’d somehow find a way to work in the discussion of them trying again. With that thought, she began slowly backing out. “We’ll catch up later.”
“You’re coming tonight?” he called as she pulled off.
Her hand came out of the window with her thumb raised.
• • •
Bailey took the stairs from the parking garage up to the third floor. She made her way to Callaghan Interiors and was greeted by the receptionist intern.
“Good morning, Jason. Did you have a good weekend?” A mischievous grin formed upon his glossy pink lips. “That big smile on your face says you did.” She returned one of her own.
“Girl, you know I did. Eight of us jammed at the Above and Beyond concert at Merriweather. It was fantastic. We—” The ring of the interoffice line cut into his weekend update. They both took a look at the telephone’s display. It was their boss.
Jason grabbed up the receiver. “Yes, Sandra? Sure thing. I—” She closed the line before he’d finished speaking. “So annoying,” he groused with an eye roll. “Miss Thang’s all in a tizzy this morning, friend.”
Bailey frowned. “Why? What’s going on?” It didn’t take much for their boss, Sandra Callaghan, to get up in arms over something or another. When things didn’t go the way she wanted, she often behaved like a spoiled child by yelling, making threats, and even closing herself up in her office for hours.
“She’s expecting a client.” Jason irritably sucked his teeth. “Telling me to look sharp. What, like I don’t always look the part?” He gave a tug on the front of his red plaid vest and perfected the cuffs on his black, long-sleeved, silk blend, button-down shirt.
“I better get going.” Bailey didn’t recall there being anyon
e scheduled on the calendar for today. She always checked, looking days ahead in order to be prepared.
As Sandra’s assistant, being at the ready was paramount in keeping her job. She’d been told by several of the staff that she was Sandra’s third assistant in the past four years.
Sandra was very demanding and could sometimes be downright vengeful when the mood struck her. Even so, Bailey wasn’t intimidated. The woman was a kitten compared to her previous employer. She’d been hired as an associate designer right out of college, and from day one, her previous boss made her life a living hell. Sink or swim, he’d told her. A long list of unfinished projects had been dropped in her lap. Most of the clients were ready to cancel their orders, and several had already done so without notification. Bailey had worked hard and somehow managed to get the work caught up.
After seeing her design plans, she’d managed to convince a large number of the clients who’d been ready to jump ship to stay on board. Having done so well, she was promoted to lead designer.
Her glory was short lived. Years of poor management caused the company to close its doors, resulting in her being without a job for nearly six months.
Taking the assistant position at Callaghan Interiors was a severe step down, but it prevented her from defaulting on her student loans. It also got her in the door of another interior design firm. She was just waiting for the opportunity to show Sandra that she was much more than a note taker and carafe handler.
Bailey jogged down the carpeted hall, passing the swatches room where the lead designer, Brian, and the buyer, Melanie, were in deep discussion leaning over a table of print layouts and scaled furniture models. “Morning, guys,” she greeted, and heard them return the same as she continued on down the hall to her desk. It was stationed just outside Sandra’s heavy oak double doors, which were closed. Thank God.
Dropping her satchel on the floor, she rushed around her desk and turned on her computer to check her calendar, quite certain she’d done so on Friday before she left.
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