On a Whim
Page 1
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
On a Whim
ISBN # 978-0-85715-293-0
©Copyright Nadia Aidan 2010
Cover Art by April Martinez ©Copyright September 2010
Edited by Stacey Birkel
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
ON A WHIM
Nadia Aidan
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
SunTrust Plaza: SunTrust Banks, Inc.
ESPN: ESPN, Inc.
Prologue
Maia Lee hated weddings. Absolutely could not stand them. But you cannot tell your best friend how much you hate weddings, not when she is about to marry the love of her life. You certainly can’t admit your utter loathing for the event when she gushes over how wonderful you will look in your maid of honour dress. No, unless you want to wake up one day sans a best friend, you keep it to yourself that you despise weddings and you become a super-duper maid of honour—the best maid of honour this world has ever seen—and do everything you’re asked to do, and even some stuff you aren’t.
But Maia was reaching the end of her rope. The happy couple had said “I do,” the reception was in full swing, and she’d already given her toast. So was it really necessary for her to be thrust in the front of the crush of vapid groupies all straining to catch the bride’s bouquet?
“You ready?” Lena called, holding the spray of roses so high and so proudly, she could put the Statue of Liberty out of business by midnight.
Maia groaned. She wanted a drink. Something stronger than the flutes of champagne going around. Maybe she would steal a bottle of Jack when the bartender wasn’t looking. Or maybe she should grab some vodka instead—wouldn’t want to mix her colours. Of course, there was alw…
Maia glared at the blonde Amazon beside her, who was seriously asking for it when she jostled her and nearly planted her size ten stilettos in Maia’s big toe. What was her problem?—Maia glanced up, following the blonde Amazon’s dreamy gaze.
The bouquet had launched.
Good. Now she could get out of there. Hey, she’d done her duty. She’d waited until Lena threw the bouquet. No one said she had to stick around to catch it.
But shit—she was boxed in by Miss Amazon herself and a brunette sprite of a woman who was stronger than she looked. Maia glanced between the two of them, deciding which one she wanted to take. The Amazon was clearly bigger, but the half pint on her left looked obsessed with catching that damned bouquet, if her intense rheumy gaze fixated on a bunch of flowers was any indication. The sprite would probably launch a vicious attack if Maia pushed that psycho out the way.
Later, Maia would tell all the witnesses that she only planned to delicately move the Amazon who was blocking her path with just a teeny, tiny little push, then, through no fault of her own, all hell broke loose! Somehow the woman went teeter tottering, forcing Maia to grab her arm to steady her. But she missed. Thank God the woman on the Amazon’s other side caught her, or Maia would have had a lawsuit on her hands. But speaking of on her hands. That damned bouquet. Yeah, you guessed it.
When she went to grab for the Amazon’s arm, instead of grasping dead air, all those frilly pink roses wrapped in frilly white ribbons fell neatly into her palm just as she was closing her fist.
Damn it. She really hated weddings.
Chad Buchanan grinned down into Maia’s café au lait face, loving how her eyes flashed with annoyance, and her cheeks blushed a pretty shade somewhere between a dusky rose and a deep crimson.
“Nice catch, Randy Moss.”
He laughed when she violently beat the bouquet against his chest, sending dozens of pink petals flying.
“Don’t start with me, Chad. This isn’t funny. You know how much I hate weddings.”
Did he ever. He quirked a brow. Maia was like some kind of new feminist he’d never met before. One day he planned to ask her, when had weddings become public enemy number one?
He lifted his finger with a smirk as he twirled the strip of lace around it. “Relax. It’s just a bit of fun. Just be a good sport, like I was.”
Her eyes rounded. “A good sport?” She scoffed. “Like you? You almost put Dylan’s nineteen year old nephew in the hospital the way you tackled him.”
He frowned. “I did not tackle Nick. Wasn’t my fault he tripped.”
She snorted. “Whatever.”
She nailed him with her brown eyes then. “You did this on purpose—I know it.”
“Did what?”
She jabbed the index finger of her free hand into his chest. “You caught the garter, and somehow you made a deal with Satan which is the only rational explanation for why I managed to catch this stupid bouquet.” Her eyes narrowed. “We’re not getting back together, Chad, no bouquet is going to change that.”
His eyes rounded, as a dark emotion furled in his belly. If it had been any other woman but Maia, he would have chalked it up to her monthly hormonal meltdown. But this wasn’t any other woman. This was Maia, and she had a way of pushing every single button he had.
The teasing glint left his eyes, and Maia must have noticed because she took a step back, her gaze suddenly wary.
But he refused to let her retreat. Seizing her by the arm, he backed her into the private bathroom just beyond the ballroom where the reception was still going on, and locked the door, the bouquet and garter long forgotten, as they fell from their hands as soon as the door closed behind them.
“You’re a piece of work, you know that. I don’t want you back, Maia. And I don’t get why it’s so hard for you to comprehend that every man doesn’t want you.”
She winced at the insult, but he steeled himself against the emotions that flooded him when he glimpsed the wounded look in her almond shaped eyes. Maia could be a great manipulator when she wanted to—they both could. Manipulation and passion seemed to be their strong points, but nothing else. And he knew this for a fact because they’d been doing this for years.
This same tired pseudo-relationship—this same on again and off again affair—that had no end, and no resolution. Maia had always lived on a whim, too free to be pinned down, too independent to commit. Well, he was done with this dead end affair—and the woman before him, who was incapable of true intimacy, of any deep emotions that weren’t self serving. “I don’t want you, Maia—not anymore.”
“And you couldn’t tell me that out in the hallway?” She said quietly. “At least be honest with yourself—with the both of us. You didn’t drag me in here to tell me how much you don’t want me.”
H
er softly spoken words were said without guile or seduction, it was just a factual statement of what was, what had always been, between them—instantaneous, uncontrollable and undeniable lust. She was right. He didn’t have to drag her into the bathroom alone to tell her how much he didn’t want her.
Despite what he knew in his head, and his heart, he found his body responding, reacting, just as it always did when she was near, when they were alone, when the rational voice inside him chose to fall silent.
Lust knotted his belly as he traced the full curve of her mouth with his fingers. Her lips trembled and he sighed as he felt himself drawing closer to the sexy pout of her mouth.
He hated this—this weakness towards her, for her. They said they were done—said they were over, but they never were. It was like an obsession—for both of them.
She called his name, her voice a throaty purr, and that was his undoing. His body tightened, his thick, heavy erection straining against the zipper of his trousers, as desire burst inside him, heating his entire body.
She closed her eyes the moment he captured her lips. With his mouth, he claimed her, branded her, his tongue probing deep, reacquainting itself, after a three month absence, with the heady taste of her.
She touched him, her fingers tentative at first, tracing a pattern across his waist, beneath his tuxedo jacket, slowly—achingly so—making their way to his burgeoning erection which threatened to break the zipper.
“Maia,” he groaned when she cupped him and massaged his swelling flesh. He needed to be inside her, this raw, carnal passion that only she could awaken. He backed her up against the door, lifting her in a single motion.
Her legs parted, and they both gasped as he slid his hands along her smooth, slender legs, pushing the dress up until it bunched at her hips. With deft fingers, he brushed the thin scrap of her thong aside, his hand gently stroking across the wet curls of her hot cunt.
Chad tore his lips from her, his heart hammering in his chest as he took in her swollen lips, her flushed cheeks. She glowed with the first blush of arousal, and she was beautiful. The only sight more beautiful than this was her complete loss of control as she succumbed to her orgasm in his arms.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he growled, his desire beating harder at him. She clasped her ankles behind him and he leant into her, one hand holding her trapped against the door, while the other undid his pants and freed his swollen cock.
With their gazes locked, he grasped her hips, and plunged inside her on a single thrust. He groaned as she cried out his name, her head flying back as her eyes clenched shut. He had to close his eyes too—the sight of her took his breath away. He trembled against her feminine body, the tight, wet heat of her cunt eagerly welcoming him home.
He began to move, his length ploughing through the clenching muscles of her slick passage.
“Chad,” she sighed, her nails digging into his scalp as she clung to him. He moved faster, driving deeper and deeper inside her. Her pussy overflowed with her juices, coating him, drenching him in her essence. He could already feel the tingling at the base of his spine, the heavy sac of his balls drawing up tight.
He called her name on a hoarse moan, as he slammed into her harder, pinning her against the door. Burying his face against the crook of her neck, he clutched her body tighter, pounding his shaft deeper and harder into her, pushing them both closer and closer to the pinnacle of climax.
She panted against him, and he knew she was close when her thighs tightened around him, and tiny tremors squeezed his thrusting cock inside her. He lifted on his toes just a fraction, the angle sending his ruddy length tunnelling deep, the change in position setting off a maelstrom within her.
She gasped, then groaned, as she clung to him, her pussy clenching tight around him, flooding with her cum as her orgasm racked her entire body. He smiled against the dewy skin of her neck. He knew just what she liked—exactly how to give it to her, exactly what to do to make her explode in a matter of seconds.
He continued to plunge inside her, fucking her hard and deep, even as her body still convulsed with the aftershocks of her climax. His own climax beat at him, pulsing through his veins, demanding complete and total fulfilment. He was powerless to stop the rush of heat that poured from his cock, deep inside her waiting pussy. A guttural moan escaped him as he buried his face against the hollow of her throat, and pumped his seed into her, until he was completely satiated, and fully spent.
It was a long while before either of them moved. Chad was the first to stir as he gently pulled out of her warm body. And they both groaned at the loss of contact, the breaking of that intimate connection that only moments before held them enthralled.
An awkward silence settled between them as they quickly righted their clothing, even as Chad knew there were so many things left for them to say. But when Maia scooped up the hastily discarded bouquet and moved to walk out without a word, Chad managed to find his voice.
“And once again, you run away with nothing to say,” he said with a heavy sigh.
She spun around, her eyes flashing with fire, before they quickly dimmed, revealing none of the emotions he knew brewed inside her.
“What do you want me to say? You’re the one who broke up with me, remember?”
That wasn’t quite true. He’d said the words, but they both knew it was her inability to commit which had led to him calling an end to their affair. “To break up, Maia, you actually have to be in a relationship, something you seem to be incapable of.”
She glared at him. “And until recently, you were the same way.”
She was right. Until recently he had been just like her, skirting around the notion of commitment, but then things had changed between them, and everything had become complicated. That’s when he’d realised Maia didn’t like change, she certainly didn’t do relationships, and what was once fun and carefree to him, held little appeal. He wanted more—he wanted more with Maia, but she didn’t. It was time he finally accepted that.
He bent down to pick up the garter.
He gave Maia one last, lingering look, memorising every detail of her face, every curve and line of her figure, although he needn’t have. He already knew her body, probably better than he even knew his own.
“Just remember. This was your choice, Maia, not mine. You can’t say I didn’t try.”
With that, he brushed past her and walked out of the bathroom, leaving her there alone to contemplate the quiet end to their fifteen year affair.
Chapter One
Maia slid into the booth across from her best friend, her lips dipping into a frown when she glanced at the table.
“You ordered without me?”
“You were late. And I was hungry.” Lena Coleman-Jacobs smiled. “Besides, you get the same thing every time so I ordered for you. Your calamari should be out in a second.”
Maia returned Lena’s smile. “You’re the best.” And she meant that in every way. They’d know each other for more than fifteen years—since their freshman year in college. Lena was her sidekick, her road dog, her ride or die chick. Lena had always been there for her, through any and everything, which was why there was no way she could possibly make this decision without talking to her first.
“So, what’s with the last minute lunch and all the secrecy? You sounded frantic over the phone.” Lena said between bites of her salad, before she froze. “You’re not sick are you?”
Maia shook her head.
Lena’s eyes widened. “You’re pregnant?”
“No.”
“Ohmigod, you got fired.”
“Lena,” Maia snapped. “I’m not sick, and it’s hard to get fired from the business you own, but you were on to something with your other point…”
Maia couldn’t finish, nor did she know where to begin. It had all seemed so simple when she’d recited the declaration in the mirror, but now…
Lena stared at her. “You just said you weren’t pregnant, so what am I missing?” Lena gasped. “You finall
y found someone to get you pregnant. Oh Maia that’s great, I am so glad you and Chad finally—“
Chad? Hell, no. “No—no.” Maia frowned. The last person she needed to father her child was Chad. He was possessive and arrogant, and he would make demands on her that she would never be prepared to fulfil if she had his child. No. She wanted this baby to be hers, and hers alone. “What I’m trying to say is that I’ve decided to consider other options.” Maia hoped Lena would catch her drift, but when her friend stared at her blankly, she sighed. “I’ve decided on artificial insemination—a sperm bank, Lena,” Maia hissed under her breath, her eyes darting around nervously.
“Oh.” Lena’s eyes widened. “Ohh. Well, that’s different.”
Maia glared at her from across the table. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re disappointed in me or something.”
“I’m not.” Lena’s expression was gentle, and she clasped Maia’s hand from across the table. “I’d just hoped you and Chad would work things out and maybe he could father your child. I know he’s ready to start a family too,” Lena offered in a low whisper.
Maia schooled her features as best she could. This was why she’d struggled with telling Lena—although, there was no way she couldn’t. She told Lena everything, just as Lena did with her, which was why she already knew Lena’s thoughts on the matter. She and Chad had history, and they basically wanted the same things. If they could just work out their problems, they could have the same things. But Lena just didn’t get it. She and Chad did not want the same things. She wanted a baby—and he wanted marriage. But she didn’t want to get married, and she knew he would never have a child outside of it. When it came to the future, she and Chad shared very different visions, which was the main reason why they’d called an end to their affair three months ago. A fifteen year, on again, off again dysfunctional affair they’d maintained since college, but which was now definitely over.