by Claire Adams
Even though part of me wanted to speak up and tell him that I would love to spend the entire vacation by his side, I hadn’t said a word. What I wanted and what I needed weren’t the same thing.
So, we rode to my resort in relative silence, stealing heated glances. I could almost taste the desire passing between us with every look. When the car pulled into the resort I was staying at, Asher helped me out of the back seat and said goodbye with an unexpected kiss on my cheek and instructions to call him if I needed anything. I smiled politely and waved goodbye as the limo disappeared down the long driveway. I was on my own.
I checked in to the resort, then went to my suite and unpacked my bags. Despite the luxuriousness of my surroundings and the beauty of the secluded cottage, Asher had booked for me with its palm trees, private beach, and swimming pool, I was feeling a little down.
“Come on, Lilah!” I said to myself in the mirror. “You're at a five-star resort in paradise, with five days of luxury and relaxation ahead of you, and you're feeling sorry for yourself? Snap out of it!”
But I was struggling. I was—as much as I hated to admit it—missing Asher. Just like I had been for weeks. Having Meg with me would have kept me distracted but, without her, my thoughts kept drifting to him.
He seemed to have resigned himself to the fact that he and I couldn't be together, and he was perfectly justified in doing so. After all, I'd done everything I possibly could to push him away with my insecurities and lack of faith in relationships.
He deserved better than that. If he found someone who could offer him a solid relationship, he deserved her. It was selfish of me to want him, while simultaneously telling him that we simply couldn't be together.
I stared long and hard at myself in the mirror. “Damnit, Lilah. If you want him, you should be with him. You can’t expect him to keep burning a candle for something you keep telling him will never happen.”
I needed another drink. I went over to the phone next to my bed and ordered a pitcher of Long Island iced tea. It was just what I needed to get this Hawaiian holiday started.
Ten minutes later, an island native in a grass skirt knocked on my door and delivered my liquid distraction. I asked her what activities she could recommend for the afternoon. I needed something I could concentrate on, something that would take my mind off of Asher.
She suggested snorkeling, which sounded like a pretty decent idea to me. I called the activities desk and signed up for a session later that afternoon, then went out onto the beach to sip on my Long Island iced tea and tried not to wonder about what Asher was doing.
***
After a fantastic afternoon of snorkeling, and the jet skiing that the snorkeling guide had talked me into, my head was clearer than it had been in weeks. I joined some of the other snorkelers for a hearty dinner by the main pool and returned to my cottage feeling full and content.
No matter how much I didn’t want to, I wondered how Asher was doing and hoped he was trying to have some fun. He’d been more stressed by work-related issues than I had been. After all, it was his company and he stood to lose the most had things not panned out in our favor.
As I walked through the front door of the cottage, I made a beeline for the hot tub I’d been thinking about since before dinner. After all the water activities of the day, I was tired and knew I’d used muscles that didn’t normally get so much of a workout. The hot tub was not only perfect for relaxation, but my muscles would thank me in the morning.
I ordered a cocktail, then started the tub up while I waited for the drink to arrive. There was a large screen television in the bathroom, so I started scrolling through the list of movies to watch in the hot-tub with my soon-to-arrive delicious cocktail. It was exactly what I needed to wind down and lull me into oblivion.
The cocktail arrived just in time and I was about to strip down when my phone rang. I'd already called Meg earlier to check on her. My first thought was that Eddie might be calling to make sure I’d arrived safely. But when I picked up the phone, it wasn’t Eddie. It was a FaceTime video call . . . from Brendan. I hesitated, not sure if I was up for talking with him, but decided to get it out of the way.
“Hello,” I answered, turning on the video.
“Well, hey there, sexy,” he chimed, grinning his usual Cheshire cat grin.
I tilted my head a bit at the sound of his voice. He was slurring his words. Judging from the stupid look plastered on his face, he was drunk. I’d been around Brendan once before when he’d had a few too many and knew that when he was drunk, he was even chattier than usual. I immediately knew that I was looking at a prime opportunity to capitalize on his loose lips and maybe sink a few ships in the process.
“Well, hi, yourself, Brendan. How are you?”
“I'm good. I'm great, actually! Yeah, just fantastic!” He held a beer up in the air to show me. “See?”
“I do see. I also see that you've had a little to drink, haven't you?” I said with a flirtatious smile. All the while, I was inching closer to my laptop where I could subtly turn on the video recording function and record this entire call just in case I managed to get him to talk.
“How did you know? Are you a- a mind reader?” he hiccupped.
“Maybe I am,” I replied with a cheeky grin. “Or, maybe it has something to do with the beer you just showed me.”
“Smart and beautiful,” he slurred. “Hey, what are you doing tonight?” Obviously, he had no idea I was in Hawaii. “Where are you, that doesn't l-look like your apartment?”
“Now who’s the smart one? I'm at a friend's place.”
“Ohhh. A, uh, a boy friend or a girl friend, huh?” He looked at me with squinted, curious eyes.
“Girl friend, from college. Say, your beer looks empty. Why don't you get another one? I've got a drink here, we can drink together.”
“Well, why don't I just come p-pick you up, instead? Then we can g-go to my place and d-drink together in p-person.”
“Not just yet, but maybe later. Let's do this first, then I'll think about coming to your place.”
He smiled, “Okay.”
He put his phone down and I heard him stumbling off, presumably to get another drink. While he was gone, I used the opportunity to set my laptop's camera up in a position so I could record the conversation more clearly.
“There we go, w-where's yours?” he asked when he returned.
I held up my cocktail and smiled. “Right here. So, what's new?” I asked, taking a sip of my drink.
“Oh, not m-much. Just some b-boring business stuff. What about with Lilah?”
“Oh, things are great! Work is outstanding. Our new campaign at Sinclair is just killing it!” I knew I had to rub our success from the nearly devastating tweet debacle in his face to get the information I needed from him, so I continued.
“We are kicking ass and taking names. Of course, I wasn’t so sure that was gonna be the case. That little act of sabotage someone tried to pull—it almost sank the company. Almost.” I watched his eyes light up immediately.
“Wait, it did?” he asked, suddenly very interested.
“Yeah. I have to admit, whoever leaked the tweet, and then contacted that blogger . . . It was kind of genius. The way he waited while we thought the hype had died down before he delivered the last blow, making the whole thing go viral. Absolutely brilliant, that plan was.
“Hell, it must have been some sort of James Bond mastermind. Oh my God, James Bond turns me on. Seriously, I'm getting hot just thinking about it. I wish I knew the guy. I have a thing for brilliant men.” I winked seductively and took a swig from my cocktail.
“All it took was a little bribe,” he spit out with a smug grin. “A little bribe to Asher's secretary. Hell, if he wasn't such a stingy bastard, maybe that bitch wouldn't have taken the $20,000 I gave her to leak the tweet. And the blogger, well, that sap cost way less than that. She's an angry, bitter little woman . . . or man, whatever she calls herself. Himself. I don't know. But that one, it only cost
me less than $1,000, can you believe it?
“And, of course, the break-in . . . Well, I did f-feel like James Bond when I did that. Yeah, or maybe more like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible. Or Jason Bourne,” he eyed me with what I’m sure he meant to be a seductive stare. It was not. “Bet that turns you on, Lilah? Doesn’t it?”
My facial expression hardened, and my voice became cool as ice.
“Are you telling me that you are the one who broke into the Sinclair Agency?” I asked, wanting a point blank confession.
He nodded his head and his smile widened. “Yep. I am. You like that, d-don’t you? You’re a naughty girl!” he exclaimed with a grin.
“No, actually I don’t like it, Brendan. What I do like is that you just confessed your crimes. Oh, and did I mention, I recorded it all? Yeah. I appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Savage.”
His face became red with wrath.
“You bitch! I'll kill you, I'll—”
“Oh, and you can now add threats to the list. Goodbye, Brendan,” I said coldly, and with that I cut off the call and immediately blocked his number. I checked the video recording to make sure it had recorded what I needed and smiled when I realized I’d gotten it all.
This was big—no, this was huge. Asher needed to know right away.
With trembling fingers, I dialed his number and told him that I needed to see him right away. He didn’t even question why, said he’d be over as soon as he could.
He arrived at my cottage half an hour later, and I could see that he had been in a rush. My heart fired up when I saw him, especially knowing he’d rushed over without question. The scent of whiskey was fairly heavy on his breath, so it was likely he’d dropped what he was doing.
“Hey,” I said, keeping things as simple as I could.
“Hi. Is everything okay? You sounded like it was an emergency on the phone.”
“Well, actually, everything is fantastic. I’m sorry if you were worried. You didn’t really give me a chance to explain on the phone. But I appreciate that you hurried over.”
“Of course. But, if everything’s okay, what was the big need for me to come over right away?” he asked.
“I’m glad you asked. I have something you need to see. Something that is going to change everything.” I said, smiling what I knew likely appeared to be a little on the unusual side.
“Ooooookay. Let’s see it, then.”
I stepped over to my laptop and swiveled it around so that Asher had a full view of the screen. I pressed play and watched his expression as he watched the video. At first, annoyance spread over his face. Clearly the sight of me flirting with Savage irritated him, which made me smile to myself. He even cut his eyes at me once as if he was questioning why I was showing him the video in the first place.
But when Brendan started spilling his guts, Asher’s smile lit up like a Christmas tree. A light of triumph burned brightly in his eyes.
“Yes,” he whispered, almost to himself. Without warning, he just began laughing loudly, and then he swept me off my feet and twirled me around.
“We've got him! We've totally got him!” he shouted, mad with joy. “All thanks to you! All thanks to you, you brilliant, beautiful woman!”
He ended the spinning and placed me back on the floor, still laughing with elation. The moment my feet were steady, his hands were cupped on each side of my face and he kissed my forehead with a joyful, solid pressing of his lips. All at once, my head was swimming and heat was rushing through my body. That’s when our eyes locked.
“I didn't do it for the company,” I suddenly said.
“What?” he asked, confused.
“I did it for you.”
I stared into his eyes, and saw a depth of emotion looking back at me I’d never before seen in any other person's eyes—even Jacob's in the days when we'd been in love. It was an intense, soul-piercing gaze.
Asher never said a word. I peered into his dark, mysterious eyes as his hands gently slid around the small of my back. He drew me to him with no resistance from me, tilting my head to accept the eager brush of his lips against mine.
When the kiss was finished, he released me and I thought that was the end of it. Honestly, it had been spontaneous, romantic and—I thought—almost sweet enough to give me the closure I needed to put my personal feelings away and step back into the realm of keeping things strictly business. I thought wrong.
My heart pounded as his strong, tender fingertips traced over my forearms and I shivered with delight. I’d never felt a sensation so vivid or appealing. I trembled under his soft touch. He slid the same fingertips over, beneath my shoulder and around until he cupped a breast in each hand, leaving his hands there long enough for the transfer of heat to exchange from his fiery palm to my already fevered flesh.
Every inch of my body ached to have him take me right there. Yet, there was something tantalizing about being in the moment, focusing on the sensation of his touch. The time for speaking was over.
Asher slid his hands from my breasts, running them down along my sides to gently caress the soft swell of my hips before slipping around to gently cup my trembling rump. As with my breasts, he was not interested in kneading or squeezing, pinching, or poking—only warmly caressing, heightening the sensation all the more.
The softer his caresses and the gentler his stroking fingers, the more I trembled and ached beneath his touch. He needed only to touch me and I was putty in his hands. Despite the temperature-controlled room, I began to swelter from desire. He waited patiently until my entire body was aglow with perspiration before gently easing his right hand away from my ass, across my hipbone, and down to gently run the same fingertips through the field of dampness he had created.
That precise touch brought a gasp to my lips and a pulse to my loins. The moment the gasp escaped my mouth, his lips covered mine feverishly. In an instant, his hands were all over me and my clothes were in a pile on the floor. I gripped his shirt with both hands and simply ripped with all my strength. I had to have him. I had to have all of him. Every memory of our times together came flooding back.
I slid a hand down his sculpted torso, tracing my fingers over the smooth skin of his rippling muscles and guiding my hand further down until I felt it. It was waiting there for me, radiant with heat, throbbing, and rock hard. I made quick work of removing his belt and undoing the button that was keeping me from what I wanted most.
I took a few steps back until my calves met with the plush sofa behind me. I pulled him onto me, guided him inside, and gasped as I felt him fill me. He eased the length of his hardness into me. I gripped his chiseled ass and began to force him to move—faster, deeper, and harder as I gasped louder with every pulse of pleasure that each thrust sent pulsing through my body.
There was no time for drawn-out lovemaking sessions; this was catharsis, this was forgiveness, this was the release of bottled-up emotions, of raw desire held barely at bay over too many weeks.
And now—now it was time to finally release all of that.
Every last drop of it.
***
I stretched and rolled over. For the fourth day in a row, I woke up next to Asher. It was hard not to marvel at the man lying next to me, even at such an early hour of the morning. As we had every night of the vacation, we'd spent most of the previous evening making love rather than sleeping. Now that we'd come to the end of the trip and it was time to return to the real world, I wasn’t so sure I was ready to go back.
Going back meant facing my fears. It meant that I was going to have to trust that Asher wasn’t going to show me special treatment at work. It meant I was going to have to let my guard down.
I caressed his cheek softly as he slept, and then glanced at the clock. We’d barely been asleep three hours, but I woke up thirsty. So, I quietly got up to head to the kitchen for a glass of water. That’s when it hit me: a wave nausea. I hurried to the bathroom furthest from the bedroom and threw up violently. I almost collapsed when I was done.
This had been the second morning of being sick. Yesterday, we'd chalked it up to a combination of something I'd eaten the night before and too much sun. But with it happening again, I started to do the math in my head.
My period was overdue—like nearly three weeks overdue. I'd chalked it up to stress and being overworked because that had delayed things in the past. But I’d never been sick.
Now, however, I was having my doubts.
There was only one way to find out. I crept back into the room, grabbed some clothes, and got dressed in the living room. I called for a driver to take me into town. If the last few days were any indication, I had another three hours before Asher woke up.
Once in town, I went to a drug store and picked up a pregnancy test. Burning with anxiety and worry, I went to the first public restroom I came across. I had to know, and I couldn't wait a moment longer than necessary to get this done.
I waited in suspense to see what the test would indicate, nearly holding my breath the whole time. When I saw it, I almost passed out right there in the stall. Was it wrong? Could this thing have made a mistake? It was rated as 98% accurate. Those were some pretty intense odds. Still, there was that 2% chance that an error could have been made.
I googled a suitable clinic in town. When I found one, I headed there immediately. Luckily, there wasn't much of a wait, but 30 minutes still seemed like hours. I did everything in my power to keep myself calm while I sat in the small, white room waiting for the doctor to return with my results.
“Well, Miss Maxwell,” he said as he reentered the room with a smile, “it seems congratulations are in order. You're going to be a mother. If my calculations are right, according to the timeframe you supplied, I’d say you’re around seven weeks along.”
I didn't know what to say or how to react. All I could do was to simply nod as he went through the rest of his spiel. When he was done, I wasn’t even sure what I had said in return to him. I simply thanked him quietly, took the paper he handed me and the prescription for vitamins, and left. What else was there to do?