“It’s just a couple of shots. You’d do great. You’re much more comfortable with me now. I can feel the difference.” That sincerity in his voice and eyes almost has me completely flipping my decision and agreeing.
“Maybe you don’t know this, but I work a full time job. I also have another really great boss that I assist, clean, and shop for, so, it’s gonna have to be a no, sorry. I just don’t have the time.” I take my clothes from him and hang them in the bathroom that is the sitting room. I think of it as my private bathroom, considering I’m the only one that uses it.
I drink in the sight of him today as he sits in a red Victorian chair. His body looks delicious in gray shorts, a black short sleeve Henley and bare feet. He looks up and hands me my coffee. The cup is so warm and it smells so good. “Are you ready for some downtime tonight?” Ty asks me while sipping his cup.
“Yeah, I am. I need to cut loose. I can get in a bad rut of being the good Stella who does exactly what needs to be done. No coloring outside the lines or riding on the wrong side of the street. I need to let my hair down, if you know what I mean.” I put my coffee down and start unpacking my shopping bags. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to some unnecessary bending over, considering he likes what he’s looking at. And what he is looking at, is me.
“You’re getting laid too tonight…don’t forget.”
I whip my head around and gasp. Thank God, he has a playful look on his face. “That bitch! She did not tell you that?”
“Yeah, she did. Something about one year and four months… born again virgin… and how it is so ‘on’ tonight.” He is actually enjoying torturing me. It’s crazy to think how quickly we have clicked as friends. He feels like Zoey in man form to me, but way hotter. And of course, there is the fact that I don’t want to pull off Zoey’s clothes and fuck the shit out of her.
Well, it is what it is, so I confess. “That’s what Zoey says is going to happen. The celibacy time frame is very accurate, but what she won’t hear from me is that there is no rush.” I continue unloading the bags. “Do I miss having a man touch me? Yes. Do I miss sex? Absolutely! Do I miss all the bullshit and lies that come with it? No.”
He stares at me for a moment and sips his coffee. His eyes soften and he speaks softly. “Tell me about the part that you don’t like.”
“Really, Ty, you don’t want to hear the ass load of crap that comes out of my mouth on this subject. When we are done today, I’m calling that little witch I call a best friend and ripping her ass.”
“Tell me.” He leans back and I can see his genuine interest. “Tell me, Stella, I want to know.”
I shift my weight and rest my hand on my hip. “Well, it starts with the ‘you’re so beautiful bullshit.’ All the compliments that, ultimately, turn out to be lies. After many drinks, you get all the lame ass lines that they think will knock your panties right off. After more mind effing, you agree to go home together. They make you feel like such a lucky girl that they picked you. When the reality is that you’re the only dumbass that fell for the continuous lines of shit fed your way. They get you to your place or theirs, and the spewing of lies continues. Oh, this feels so good. How did I get so lucky? You are so hot. This is amazing. Blah, blah, blah…and that’s it. They get theirs, and rarely care if you get yours. They are gone before morning, and the next time you hear from them is in a drunken stupor, booty calling your ass at 3 am. It’s bullshit, Ty. You give the best part away, and for what? To hear lies and settle for getting fucked. And it’s so shallow and unfulfilling. There has to be something better out there, like love along with friendship. Someone who truly feels for you the same way you feel about them, something genuine and someone who cares for you. I just couldn’t take the bullshit anymore, hence, a sexless one year and four months.”
I finally breathe. I cannot believe I said all that, to Ty, no less. I feel a lump well up in my throat because I am so embarrassed. I stand there and we stare at each other. No words are said as I force the tears to stay in my eyes. Once I can breathe past the lump in my throat, I say in a hushed, almost ashamed tone, “Sorry, God, you didn’t ask for all that. You’re right, I am feeling more comfortable with you. Please just forget everything I said.”
I turn to continue what I was doing, and Ty grabs my hand, pulling me back to stand in between his open legs. “Don’t be ashamed, Stella. If that’s how you feel, then that’s just how you feel. Your feelings are yours. They belong to you only, no one else. If that’s what’s in your heart, then it’s not wrong. Whoever the guy is that ends up with you is a lucky fucker. You sound like you have the love to give, so… be proud of that.”
His touch makes me rethink everything I just said. That heat I feel as he touches me makes me want more and more of him. As he rubs my fingertips, I hate that everything I said goes out the window. I could care less if he wants an hour or a lifetime. My body buzzes with need and I currently hate him for making me react this way. Ty doesn’t lead me to believe that he’s interested in anything other than friendship. There is a lot of flirting, laughing, and playful behavior. I find that he looks me over, a lot. I normally wouldn’t say he likes what he sees, but I genuinely think he does. I find his eyes drinking me in, but we are new to each other, so I just don’t know what he’s thinking.
He drops my hand and my body is screaming for the contact to return. I whisper, “You really think it’s not crazy to feel that way?”
“I don’t, but I am not the best person to talk about love. I hear you on all the lines of bullshit. Hell, I’m an offender of everything you hate. A one night stand is right up my alley. I’m opposite, Stella, I think the love stuff is bullshit. I don’t think couples can be faithful. Do you have any idea the amount of married women that come in here acting all innocent and committed? They tell me they are doing the shoot for the one they love, whether it is a boyfriend or a husband. But, Stel, if I wanted them, I could have them. They’re not like you. They throw their ass in my face and are so damn obvious. They want either sex or the fantasy, I really don’t know. I’ve never asked. I really don’t care about any of them. I just accept or decline. It’s just that easy on my end. It reconfirms what I feel. There is no love. There is no fidelity. There may be commitment, but when will it end, Stella, because it most certainly is going to end. There is no happily ever after. You just enjoy the ride and wait patiently for the bomb to drop. And the bomb will drop, and then what? Bitterness, sadness, anger, and rebuilding.”
I’m left processing what he said to me about my situation and his. Somebody must have done a number on him. We are on two completely different pages. Hell, we aren’t even in the same fucking library!
“I’m going to edit.”
“I’m going to get cleaning.” That got deep and we separate as quickly as possible. I deliver some of the goods to the kitchen and then his bathroom. His bed is unmade, and my mind wonders how he sleeps. In the nude, underwear, does he wear boxers? Did he have sex in that messy bed last night? If so, with who? I’m taken away by visions of me underneath him. My fingers digging into his back from the pleasure I feel with him inside of me. I raise my hips as he pushes in deep and hard. His breath is hot in my ear as I moan at the pleasure. I realize I’m just staring at his bed and not functioning. Thank God, he didn’t walk in and witness my wet daydream.
I’m done with the apartment area and head to the studio. Ty looks up from his computer at me. I assume my shirt has ridden up a bit on my waist because his eyes catch at my hipbones and tummy.
“Hey, Stella, sorry I got deep. Remember about tonight; don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to do. Promise me?”
“Sure, Ty, I promise.” He gives me a closed mouth smile and we keep one another’s stare for a moment. I break the eye contact and move on to other duties. I feel his eyes on me several times in the next couple hours. I wonder if he thinks differently of me and that’s why he stares. I try not to beat myself up about what came out of my big mouth. There are no take backs, so I
just have to live with opening up to him with my personal feelings. Zoey is the only one that knows all that floods my head. It did feel good to vomit my feelings at someone else. I giggle inside; I bet he didn’t bargain for that.
Now that cleaning is complete, I go to wardrobe number two. I sit down at the laptop and answer some inquiries on booking a session. Sliding over in my chair, until our chairs collide and our arms touch, I sit quietly and watch Ty edit. It’s fascinating to watch him use this pen and pad thingy to Photoshop the pictures. It’s amazing to watch him brighten eyes, teeth, and skin. He rubs out blemishes, and softens skin and angles. The before and after are night and day. Since we have time today, we switch seats and he directs me in what to do. It’s crazy fun, and I laugh my ass off when I distort his poor subjects. The best part is our arms touching, his scent in my nose, and his tone as he speaks to me. This man just affects me. I hate it and love it at the same time. No one has made me feel this way in one year and four months. I’m so tired of that timeline today.
The young model strolls in about ten minutes late. Ty is instantly in professional mode as they discuss what she wants her end result to be. She goes, changes, and primps a bit. We arrange the lighting to get some headshots. She changes her outfit and we pack up to head outside. She is extremely pretty and very thin, very model-ish. He leads her to the back of the warehouse for some pictures against the brick wall. She seems to have no modesty as she begins to change her shirt at the side of the building right in front of Ty. He also isn’t affected. I’m sure it’s because he sees a lot of skin in his profession. Many poses and many pictures later, we head back up stairs. She and Ty look over the shoot and narrow down some details before she leaves.
Ty invites me to a very late lunch. I couldn’t be giddier as we walk down to The Wall Street. It’s a nice day out and the breeze is steady. No longer are we awkward with one another, except for this longing I have for him to touch me. Kiss me. Make love to me. I want all of him. He’s so amazing to look at on the outside, but it’s what’s inside that has my attention. From the first real conversation on the balcony, I have seen him, not just the pretty parts. There are so many unanswered questions to this man. He could not be sweeter to me. Yet, there is this bitterness that shows through in some of his comments. Maybe even sadness? Anger? Confusion? I really don’t know. We keep the conversations light and flirty, but for me, they are tension filled as my body hums just at the sight of him.
As I sit here at lunch, I still watch him drink with that delicious mouth. I envision my hands all tangled in that messy, yet fucking sexy as hell, hair. His chest is probably perfect without his shirt. My eyes dip below the waist as we stand to walk back to the studio. I have to wring my hands together to keep from grabbing his. Something so simple as holding hands has me all tied in knots. This man has me all tied in knots.
Once we are back at his studio, we head to the apartment area. “Hey, I have to make a call. Everything is good if you just want to chill before we get ready to go out.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” I nestle into the sectional and gaze out of the huge windows that face out the back and watch the fountain water dance around. Ty steps into his bedroom on the phone. It only takes a moment for my eyes to droop.
“MMMMMMM…” I RELEASE a deep sigh. I feel fingers running through my hair at my temples.
“Stella? Hey, Stella?” Oh shit, that’s Ty’s voice …did I really just moan at his touch? Heat fills my face as I grab his wrist gently, and my eyes flash open to meet his face. “Hey you.” His voice is low and hushed. Those two words heat my body up like a furnace.
“Ty…I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” I’m supposed to be working and I freaking fell asleep, really?
“You’re fine. I sacked out for a bit too. I just wanted to give you time to change and get ready. It’s still pretty early, but I know you wanted to shower and get ready here.” I didn’t want to drive home and then back here to drop off my car.
He moves and I jump up, as I’m sure I just totally overstepped the boundaries. Everything he says tells me, ‘I don’t let girls get too close.’ I am surely no exception. I tell him sorry again and I rush over to the studio bathroom. Looking in the mirror, it is very clear to see why he would not be interested in me. I’ve seen the girls on his website. I’ve seen the women that he has contact with daily and weekly. I just don’t have that sexy, hot look. I am most definitely not on his radar. To be honest, it hurts. I haven’t wanted someone like Ty in forever, and the reality is staring right back at me. Tears sting my eyes. Why the hell did I wake up all emotional?
My pity party does not last long. They never do. Shove it in a box somewhere deep inside and move on, I tell myself. I strip and start the shower. It feels so good to be under the hot spray. A knock makes me freeze as I wash my hair and wad it on top of my head filled with shampoo. I peek out of the shower curtain. “Yes.”
“Hey, Stel, you want a beer to start the night?”
I think for a moment, “Do you have any vodka?”
“Any what?” Ty asks.
A little louder, I say, “Vodka!”
“I’ll wait. I can’t hear you with the shower running,” he shouts through the door.
“Open it. I’m behind the shower curtain.” Whoa, bold Stella without alcohol.
He opens the door and I stick my head out only. He chuckles, “I like your hair that way. You could wear it to the bar just like that.”
“Shut up, I said vodka.” My face lights up from his teasing. I use my hand and wipe the shampoo from my forehead. My eyes dart to his exposed chest. Holy shit, he does not have on a shirt! I tense. I’ve never seen him without a shirt. The mirror is fogged and I’m pissed I can’t use it to get a better look.
“I do, what do you want it mixed with?”
“Cranberry juice, please.” I know he has it because I bought it this morning.
“You got it.” Ty moves his eyes down my face, neck, and stops at my collarbone. I’m covered, so I know he can’t see anything more than the boring parts. He leaves the door cracked a bit when he leaves. I finish up by shaving everywhere and turn off the water. The soft towels from the rack are plush and feel good against my skin. Stepping out, I take advantage of the soft robe and wrap my hair in the towel. A light knock on the door startles me.
“Are you decent?” Ty asks through the crack. I tense because I realize I have no makeup on at all. No long pretty hair. All my assets that I feel make me attractive, are non-existent.
“Yes.” In his standards, this is decent.
He gently pushes the door open a few more inches. His eyes settle on my plainness and he pauses before putting the drink on the counter. He just stares for a moment, moving his eyes from the towel on my head, to my feet, and everything in between. I retrieve the drink out of his hand, hoping he will release his eyes from me.
“Thank you,” I whisper. I could not be more humiliated. Please stop looking at me. I know, I’m nothing overly exciting.
“You’re welcome.” He closes the door and I hold my breath waiting for him to walk away, but he doesn’t. He seems to be leaning against the door. I bring the drink to my mouth and practically empty it in a couple of sips. Ty stands outside my door for about five minutes before I hear him pad away. Finally, it’s safe to crack open the door for some cool air. Shoving my unwanted emotions down, I pull my hair out of the towel and start getting ready.
Another drink later, and I am ready to go. My spirits are higher thanks to my little friend named vodka. I actually have done a complete 180 and think I look kinda cute in my fitted, dark green, long sleeve, V-neck shirt and mini skirt. Let’s be honest, it’s a jean skirt that has trendy, tiny, little rips high on the thigh. Zoey did say sexy, right? Unfortunately, her idea of sexy and mine are two different beasts. With one last look in the mirror at my smoky eyes, and my hair half pulled up, I give a spritz of my favorite perfume. That’s as good as it gets, Stel. Outside the bathroom, I plop my ass on the
side of the studio bed. I pull on my brown, suede, calf-high boots that match the belt. The belt shows, and that makes the boots pop! Ty is standing over me to my left as I raise my head.
“Beer?” He looks like his mood has gone south from the sweet wake up he gave me earlier. I stand and take the cold beer out of his hands.
“Wait, what is it? Beer before liquor never sicker... Liquor before beer you’re in the clear. Well, I guess I’m in the clear.” I smile at my stupid saying.
“Ummm…you look really, really good tonight, Stella. Are you ready? They’re all on their way up.” Ty looks pained. He looks hurt. He looks bewildered, maybe even frustrated. I don’t know him well enough to know this emotion he’s spewing all over me.
Grabbing his forearm, I say softly, “Ty, are you okay?” The door flings open and I hear Pierce yelling for us to come on!
His eyes stay locked on my hand touching his soft skin and replies flatly, “I’m fine, you ready?”
His tone is cold and withdrawn. I take a deep breath. What the hell? Was it something I did? Was it something I said? “Yes, let me collect all my stuff so I can put it in the car on the way down.”
“Leave it; you can get it all before you drive home tonight.” He’s clapped on the back by Jaxon, who then takes me into a bear hug and sweeps me off my feet.
“Stella Avery! You are holding up the party! Let’s shit or get!” He releases me and drags me to Zoey.
“That is not the sexy I was going for, but you do look hot, all simple and Stella-ish.”
“She looks beautiful,” Ty’s voice is gruff and he looks like he doesn’t appreciate Zoey’s opinion.
“Ew,” Zoey says to Ty in a disgusted tone. Once she looks me over twice, she pulls my hair down from the clip. “Now I’d do you. You look hot.”
Captured Secret (The Captured Series) Page 8