by Jade Webb
You sure about that, Lawrence?
What the fuck was that supposed to mean? What did that asshole know? As much as I want to follow him, finish the conversation with my fist in his face, I hold myself back. I need to distract myself and get Peter off my mind. I look down at my watch and see that it’s almost four. Taking one more deep breath, I grab my jacket and phone off my desk and leave my office.
“Leila, cancel the rest of my appointments for today and head out early. Enjoy the weather,” I say as I breeze out of my office, relieved to find the hallway empty.
This day was an absolute shit storm and the only way I know how to make it better is to go home and see my girls.
18
Lawrence
As I walk inside the kitchen, I can’t help but let a smile creep up my face as I feel all the frustration of the day fade away. Because waiting for me in the kitchen is Isabel in a chef’s hat, flour all over her clothes, and a triumphant smile on her face as she carefully ices a row of sugar cookies. Next to her, leaning on the counter and carefully following Isabel’s instructions on how to properly place the sprinkles on each cookie is Yael.
Yael sees me enter first and I can see her tense up. After our encounter last night, she artfully avoided me in the morning and I also may have been a bit more motivated to leave for work early. I had no idea what had scared her off so quickly. I thought she was as eager as I was, but maybe I had moved too fast. I don’t want her thinking I’m some kind of randy pervert that was looking for some action. I know we’ll need to talk about it eventually, but after dealing with my father — and then Peter — all I want is to come home and relax, and not think about how much I want to ram my head through a brick wall.
When she reads the fatigue and exhaustion radiating off me, Yael’s face softens and she looks at me, her brow creasing with concern. Arching her brow, she mouths “Everything okay?”
I nod, and she returns the gesture. And because I have spent the last few weeks doing nothing but studying Yael’s body language, and every subtle expression of hers, I know the slight jut of her chin is more than a nod: I t’s also a way to let me know that everything between us is good. We can talk later, but for now, we’re okay.
Yael smiles and gently elbows Isabel at her side. Isabel looks up and sees me, her blue eyes lighting up as she drops the icing onto the counter. “Daddy!”
I crouch down to hug her, relishing the feel of her arms squeezing me tightly against her. She makes every hard, exhausting, frustrating day worth it. She breaks away and clutches my hand, dragging me back toward the counter.
“Dad, look at my cookies! I made them just for you!”
“Wow, baby. These are some beautiful cookies!” I pick one up and Yael catches my eye. Her dark eyes widen as she quickly shakes her head. But it’s too late, I take a big bite and feel my eyes water. I force myself to swallow, too afraid to disappoint Isabel.
“Wow, these are so…different,” I tell Isabel as I try to swallow down the remainder of the cookie.
Isabel beams and offers me another cookie.
“You know, honey, I think your dad should eat his dinner before he eats all your cookies,” Yael says as she takes the cookie out of my hand, saving me.
Isabel nods with understanding. “Okay, but Dad, all those cookies are for you. And Yael can have one, too.”
I give her a kiss on the top of her head and discreetly place the rest of my uneaten cookie on the counter behind me. “Thank you, baby. Now why don’t you finish up any homework you have left for school tomorrow?”
Isabel runs up the stairs back to her bedroom and I look at Yael, who is doing her best to hold back her laughter.
I hold up the remnant of the cookie. “What are these?”
Yael smiles. “She really wanted to make you cookies and when I wasn’t looking, she put the salt in the batter instead of the sugar. I didn’t have the heart to tell her and it was too late, so when she wanted to taste one, I told her that chefs never test their own food, and that you should eat all the cookies.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the warning.”
Yael laughs as she holds her hands up defensively. “Hey, I tried.”
“Well, Isabel did say you could have one,” I tell her as I grab an iced cookie off the counter and take a step toward her.
She eyes me warily as she takes a step back. “Oh, no way.”
I nod and dart in front of her, cornering her against the granite countertop. “Oh, yes way. Open up.”
Yael shakes her head and twists, trying to get out of my grip. I keep my hand on the counter beside her, using the advantage of my larger frame to cage her in. As she squirms, her body pushes against me, awakening every sense inside me that seems to lie dormant until Yael is in the same room as me. As if she can sense how much that simple touch impacts me, she stops moving. Slowly she lets her dark brown eyes find mine. And I know she can see everything in my eyes: all the desire, and all the want.
I pull back, but her hands reach out, gripping onto my belt and pulling me back toward her.
“You really must want this cookie,” I say, half-attempting a joke but not recognizing the sound coming out of my mouth. It’s the voice of a desperate man. Because when I am with Yael, I always am.
“It’s not the cookie,” she says before she presses herself against me and her lips find mine. Instantly, the cookie falls to the ground and my hands find her hips, pulling her toward me. She lets out a moan — one of the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard when she feels my rigid cock against her. She twists her hips, angling herself so that she’s pressing her hot center against me and as her lips part, and her tongue thrusts out to meet mine, she starts to grind herself against me. The friction of her jeans against my hard cock makes me want to explode and come right then and there, and crumble just like the pieces of that godawful cookie on the floor beneath us. I begin to meet her thrusts and we grind against each other, like horny teenagers unable to get our clothes off quickly enough. Our hands are everywhere, grabbing, touching, squeezing and exploring. Her desperation for my touch is only outmatched by mine. When my hands find her breasts, her nipples hard as diamonds beneath my touch, she lets out another loud moan that I silence with my mouth.
Her own hands claw at me, wrapping around my neck and pulling me closer to her. Each time I thrust against her, she lets out another moan that almost sends me over the edge. I want to record the sound of her moaning, replay it every night as I fall asleep. It’s the sexiest, most intense, sound I’ve heard. It’s unabashed and so honest. I can hear the desire in her moans, and it makes me want to explore what other sounds I make her gorgeous mouth make. Every time she presses up against me, I have to fight back the urge to come. I am so close, and while I want to release so badly, the idea of doing it in my pants and not inside of her, is not exactly what I have been hoping for these past two months. Because with Yael, I want everything. And I’m not enough of a fool to believe that one night will ever be enough with her. And now that I’ve had a taste? I’ll never be able to live without knowing what it would feel to sink myself inside of her, to hear that sexy-as-fuck moan as she feels me fill up every inch of her, how it will feel to have her clench down around me, her slick entrance pulsating around me as I bring her to orgasm over and over again. I want to see the pink flush to her cheeks when she comes, want to hear her scream my name and feel her body slick with sweat as she takes me in fully, riding me until we both find our release several times over.
When Yael’s head falls, I take full advantage, moving my lips down her neck, nipping her soft skin with my teeth before soothing it with a kiss, as I rub my thumb over her hard nipple. My touch seems to electrify her, and when I cup her breast, pinching her nipple between my fingers, she grows wild, grabbing and fumbling with my belt buckle. Her inhibited desire makes me so fucking grateful that she is as eager for this as I am.
Before she has the chance to free my cock, I take my free hand and move it behind the counter to grab her
ass, so I can position her against me, get her closer. She lets me, then wraps both her hands around my neck and finds my mouth again. I lift her off the floor and she wraps her legs around me as we furiously kiss and grind our bodies against each other. Yael’s breaths are growing more and more rapid, and I know she’s probably as close as I am. I tear my lips away from her and grab her ear between my teeth.
“Come for me, Yael.”
Those four words are the match to the stick of dynamite within her and as soon as they leave my mouth, her whole body tenses. When her mouth drops open, I swallow her cry with my lips. Her body shakes, almost vibrating, as waves of pleasure pass through her. Her eyes pinch close and she rips her mouth away to bite down on my shoulder. Seeing the flush of her cheeks, and feeling her legs wrap around me, I can’t hold off my own release and with a low growl, I thrust one more time against her warm body, finding my own release as I come inside my boxers. Our bodies both heave as we pant, still holding tightly to each other, as we come down from our orgasms and catch out breaths. I can feel her racing heart beat against my own chest. I place a kiss on her forehead as I gently lower her to sit on the counter.
“Yael, that—” I start, my voice still raspy and low.
“Can’t happen again,” she says, cutting me off and sliding out of my grip.
“What?” I ask, taken aback by her response and quick change in demeanor.
Yael adjusts her tank, pulling it back down. “That can’t happen again,” she repeats as she slides off the counter.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, not able to keep the frustration from edging its way into my voice.
“You’re my boss,” she says, stressing the last word. “I can’t be doing this,” she adds before walking away.
“So, fuck it. You’re fired,” I tell her.
She turns back to look at me, her brown eyes flashing with anger. “You’re firing me?”
I throw my hands up. “No, I’m not firing you. But come on, you can’t deny that we have something here.”
“We don’t have anything. You hired me to watch over Isabel and that is all I can offer.”
“That’s bullshit, Yael.”
“It’s not bullshit. It’s the truth,” she says before spinning away.
I grab her hand before she can leave and raise it to my chest. “Yael, this is real. What we have is real. Stop being so stubborn and accept that we have something here.”
She lets her hand linger on my chest and I know she can feel my heart thrashing. She sucks in her bottom lip, and it’s as if I can see the wheels turning in her head. She’s conflicted. Because I know she feels this, too. I know she wants this. But she’s too goddamn stubborn to realize this isn’t so damn complicated.
“Stay with me, Yael. Just…be with me,” I mutter out, frustrated. I’ve never had to beg a woman to be with me; it feels awkward, and unnatural. But I’m quickly learning that I will do anything to keep Yael and if she wants me on my knees, I’ll fucking do it.
Reluctantly Yael pulls her hand away and slowly shakes her head. “This,” she says, gesturing between us, “is not anything permanent. I’m a challenge to you and once you conquer it, you’ll move on. And where will that leave me?”
“Yael, why can’t you see that you’re more than that to me?”
“Lawrence, you have no room in your life for me. Isabel and work—that’s your life. I’m a distraction.”
“Yael, you are more than a distraction! I want you. I want this.” I thrust a hand in frustration through my hair. “Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that you honestly don’t want this?”
Yael looks at me, and my heart breaks when I see the unmistakable glimmer of sadness in her eyes. “I don’t know what I want,” she admits as she shrugs her shoulders.
And while I want to comfort her, convince her that what she really wants is me, I can’t. Because I’m angry and frustrated and mad that she can’t see what is so obvious to me.
“Well, let me know when you’ve finally figured it out,” I snap as I storm out of the room.
19
Yael
“But I want one of Ricky’s cookies!” Isabel whines as she tugs on my hand, leading me back to the car.
I roll my eyes but let her continue to pull me. I’m picking her up from her Tae Kwon Do class and she wants a snack. And of course, she wants me to head back into town, in the opposite direction, to get her a cookie. But not just any cookie, a “Ricky cookie,” which is just an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie. But Ricky makes it “special” for her, so, of course, we had to go and get a Ricky cookie. And if I am being entirely honest, I’m in no rush to get back to the house where Lawrence currently is. We didn’t part on great terms yesterday and though I know it makes me a coward, I’m still hiding from him. I mean, he gave me a life-changing, earth-shattering and literally panty-melting orgasm, and then five seconds later, I told him that I wasn’t sure I even wanted him. All this emotional…stuff is new for me, and it is seriously freaking me out. So, I do what I do best and avoid him like the plague. Luckily for me, he seems to be employing the same tactic. Thank God his house is the size of a small European municipality so we can both comfortably ignore each other.
We head over to Dottie’s and as soon as Isabel is out of the car, she runs ahead into the cafe. It’s mid-afternoon and most of the small, wooden tables inside are empty. Ricky is thankfully working, so we can avoid another meltdown there. As she approaches the counter, Isabel pushes her unruly blonde curls behind her ears, twirling one remaining, wayward strand of hair. As I watch her peer around the counter, it suddenly clicks for me. Little Miss Isabel has a crush on Ricky.
Amused, I watch as her face lights up when Ricky sees her. He steps in front of the counter to give Isabel an enthusiastic high five, sending a hot pink blush to her cheeks.
“You look like you just came back from karate lessons!” Ricky says, noting her freshly pressed gei and white karate belt.
Isabel’s eyes light up and she nods proudly. “I did. I learned a new routine!”
Ricky smiles at her, and I can instantly see how Isabel is so smitten. His dimpled cheeks are absolutely lethal. And when I look at him playfully interacting with Isabel and asking her for a demonstration, I wonder why I can’t be as attracted to Ricky as I am to Lawrence. Because even if he infuriates me, confuses me, and drives me crazy, I am undeniably and unequivocally attracted to Lawrence. Being in the same room as him sends my body humming and a flood of warmth to all my lady parts. And when we touch? God, it’s like sparks. Why can’t I just be attracted to a nice, uncomplicated guy like Ricky? Someone who is not the heir to a billion dollar company, and who has a daughter to worry about and who is so clearly and laughably out of my league.
“So, I bet you’re real hungry then?” I hear him ask when Isabel finally takes a break. She nods furiously and Ricky looks down at her. “Hungry enough for a Ricky cookie?”
Isabel smiles wide and another vibrant pink flush hits her. Ricky looks up and winks at me, confirming that he isn’t entirely unaware of his charms. As he slides back behind the counter to grab Isabel’s cookie, he looks up at me. “The usual?”
I smile appreciatively. “Please.”
He brings my coffee and Isabel’s cookie to the counter and when I pull out my card to pay, he places his hand on mine to stop me.
“On the house today,” he says.
“Ricky, you can’t keep doing this,” I argue. “This is the third time you haven’t charged me.”
“So, I’m cashing in today,” he says with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Go out with me.”
“What?” I ask, completely caught off guard.
“Come out with me. Tonight.”
“I can’t,” I reply, shaking my head. “I’m working.”
“Next week, then.”
“Ricky, I—” I start, trying desperately to think of a believable excuse. Because as much as I wanted to want to go out with Ricky, I just couldn’t summon any
enthusiasm. Not when I knew the man I truly wanted would just be waiting at home for me.
He looks over at Isabel, biting into her cookie and watching the two of us. “Isabel, tell Yael that she should go out with me.”
Isabel giggles and blushes rosy pink. “Yael, you should go out with Ricky.”
“Isabel,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes down at her. She is a useless wing woman. God, Ricky could ask her to assassinate the damn president right now and she would do it with a smile on her face.
She looks up at me, blinking her blue eyes innocently before she smiles back at Ricky. “She doesn’t have to work next Saturday. Daddy told her to take a vacation day.”
“Isabel!” I mutter again, louder this time.
I glare at Ricky for corrupting Isabel, eliciting a chuckle from him. He leans over the counter and locks his eyes on mine. “Next Saturday. Let me take you somewhere. I promise it will be fun.”
Before I can open my mouth to politely decline, I feel Isabel’s hand slip into mine. “She’ll love to, Ricky. Her number is 555-1943.” Ricky quickly jots down my number and I glare down at her. Isabel takes another bite of her cookie. “You made me memorize it,” she tells me, shrugging her shoulders.
“Yeah, in case you got kidnapped not to get me dates.”
Isabel bats her eyelashes and looks up at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Well, you didn’t specify that, so I really had no way to know.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Isabel, you re spending way too much time with your aunt Gabby and her law school books. She is corrupting you.” I grab my bag and shoot Ricky a quick smile. “Thanks, Ricky. We’ve got to go.”
He smiles and tucks the paper into his pocket as I drag Isabel out the door. Once outside, I swat her playfully on the arm. “Isabel, you can’t tell Ricky that I’ll go out with him!”
“But he’s sweet. And he likes you! And if you go out with him, I could get cookies every day!”