by Claire Adams
“She was when I met her, and she’s coy about it, too.”
“Good, that means she’s immune to your bullshit.”
“Mona…”
“You know I’m just joking.”
“Yeah, I do.”
She left so I could get ready.
I was so nervous. I know that it didn’t make any sense. We’d basically agreed to fuck at this point, but for some reason, I kept worrying about what she’d think about me.
My impermeable confidence seemed to melt away when I got into the car. I was so sure that Zoe wanted me. She did want me, but at this point, there was nothing I could do to ease my anxiety. I just had to push through and hope that things went okay.
Zoe lived in a corporate owned apartment complex on the north side. It was a decent place, but it was small. I couldn’t imagine somebody as wonderful as her living in a place the size of my living room. She deserved a palace as majestic as the Taj Mahal, not a cockroach-ridden closet.
I parked in the back lot and turned off the car so I could find my bearings. I couldn’t walk up there looking like an adolescent boy who just figured out he liked girls. I had to be confident, cool, and calm. That woman could probably smell weakness, and I wasn’t about to let her see me unless I was at my best.
A quick spritz of breath spray and a look in the mirror, and I was ready to go. She lived on the other side of the back building in a one bedroom on the first floor, where she had a small collection of potted plants sitting next to her door. They were all herbs. She must’ve been growing them for her cooking.
I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Just a second.” She sounded frazzled like she was rushing around the apartment. When she did open the door, there was flash, like we’d both seen something shocking, and we both went quiet.
She was wearing a pair of jeans and a purple shirt that hugged her curves so tight I nearly dragged her back into the bedroom.
“Hey,” she said finally.
“Hi.” We started walking back to the car together.
“So, where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” I said.
“I don’t like surprises.”
If she didn’t like them, then I wasn’t going to give them to her. “It’s a restaurant called Murphy’s Downtown.”
“I love that place. They have the best scampi.”
“And their meatball marinara.”
“Like it was shipped in from an Italian kitchen.”
I nearly laughed, but I just didn’t have the energy. I was putting up a good front, but inside I was ready to explode. Was she watching me? I took a peek out of the corner of my eye. No, she was staring straight ahead.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to be so quiet.”
“I don’t mind.” I started the car and put it in reverse.
“So, this has been killing me all week. Obviously, you’re not a millionaire, not with a house that big. You have to have more than that. I don’t mean to scrutinize, but…”
“But what?”
“It’s just—you never told me what you did for a living.”
“Does it matter?”
“You said it was worse than a drug dealer, and you don’t want to tell me what you do, which means you probably work for the government or the mafia.”
“Technically.”
“Technically, what?”
“Look.” I pointed out the window to my right where the airplane graveyard was sitting in the waning light.
“You’re a pilot? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I built a company that designs aeronautical equipment.”
“That’s crazy. How did you manage that?”
“I started out as a mechanic and worked my butt off. Then, the right people started noticing.”
“You’re a hard worker, aren’t you?”
“I couldn’t be anything but. It’s a part of who I am.”
“I feel the same way,” she said.
We got off at the downtown exit and parked the car in a lot across the street. When we walked in, the hostess was staring down at her phone. As soon as she saw me, her eyes went wide. She jumped up and took us straight to my booth in the back room. “Can I get you two anything to drink?”
“Wine?” I asked Zoe.
“Fine by me. I’ll have a water, too.”
“We’ll get a bottle of merlot,” I told the hostess.
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No, thank you.”
“I’ll be back with your drinks, then.”
Zoe was looking around the room. It was dark with burgundy walls and lamps in the corner. I watched her, not even trying to hide my interest. There was no point. “I have a question.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“What is the one thing you love more than anything else?”
“Baking.” She didn’t even hesitate.
“Why?”
“Because I love to cook, and baking allows me to be creative. What about you? What do you love?”
My boys. “Flying.”
“You can fly?”
“When I have a free moment. It’s been years though.”
“Too much work?”
“It seems like it only gets worse with time.”
“I am thoroughly convinced of that.” The waitress came and took our orders. We both got the scampi.
When the waitress left, I found myself sitting in an awkward silence, tense and unsure of what to do. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We weren’t supposed to click. We were supposed to fuck and part ways, not get entangled in some demented mess of emotions and insecurities. Maybe I was jumping ahead. She probably just didn’t know what to say, but neither did I.
To my relief, it didn’t take long for the waitress to walk back over with the wine. “Here ya go.” She popped open the bottle and poured our glasses. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No, I think we’re fine,” Zoe said. When the waitress walked out, Zoe turned to me. “So, you’re not in the mafia, and you’re not working for a bunch of corrupt pigs in Washington.”
“Nope.”
“Then what’s the catch?”
I had two screaming infants living with me. “I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “That’s for you to figure out.”
But that took time and effort, and it didn’t seem to me like she was willing to put up with all of that. She wanted to know for certain that I was the right one. I couldn’t give her that certainty. I couldn’t even bring myself to accept that this night wasn’t a huge mistake.
She seemed to shrink down into herself. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t ever have to apologize to me.”
“It’s just that I haven’t done this in a long time, and I’m not the kind of person who eases her way into things. I don’t play games or wonder what’s going to happen. I study, and I plan.”
“I do the same thing.” I took a sip of my wine. “But there’s always something that gets in the way, some demented surprise or disaster that ruins everything.”
“I worry about the unexpected all the time. But it’s different for me than it is for you.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Your life is stable. You’re already successful. You’ve made your money. I’m just getting started. I’ve got at least six hours a day when nobody comes into my shop. And we’ve been burning through our food shipments so fast, I can barely keep up.”
“Wealth is never stable,” I said. “My well-being is tied to the company, just like yours is. I lose money every time the stock goes down. One bad day, one failed project, and I’d lose everything.”
“Ooh, I hadn’t thought of that.” She took a sip of wine. “That doesn’t sound very stable, at all.”
“It’s not. I used to get these nightmares where I’d wake up and find out the stock market crashed.”
She shook her head and took a sip of her drink. Then a smile curved her lips. “We’re a lot m
ore alike than I thought we’d be.”
“We are.” I picked up my glass and took a swig. I didn’t want to let her think we had a chance. We’d both end up getting hurt. Besides, I wasn’t ready for anything serious. I’d just lost my girlfriend, the mother of my children—I was struggling to hold my life together. Adding another person into the equation would just complicate things.
She smiled, swirled her drink, and downed the rest. “You were in the military, weren’t you?”
“The Army. How did you know?”
“It’s all over you, the brutish charm, the haircut, the way you sit with your back straight.”
“Brutish charm?” I laughed.
“Not brutish. I don’t know what to call it.”
“Manliness,” I said.
“It’s more than that. I don’t know what to call it. Whatever it is, it’s just sexy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah…”
“You sure I’m not too rough for your taste?”
“Positive.”
I drank the rest of my wine and poured us both another glass while we waited for the food to arrive. When it did, she ate slowly, glancing up at me every few seconds, her eyes moving down my face and over my chest. I could practically feel her reaching out to me, aching to be touched. She barely even tried to hide it. What was the point? I’d know if she was.
She was rough, quick, and brisk, not at all elegant or refined. I loved it. She was a real person, not some silicone queen trying to get into my bank account. This was a person with substance, discipline, and a good work ethic, somebody that I could easily see myself spending time with.
I didn’t want to rush through. I wanted to delay things as long as I could because I knew that this would probably be our last night together. So, I ate slow and took my time. When we were done, she sat back, and I poured us one last glass of wine.
“What is the best part about being rich?” she asked.
“The cars.” I took a sip. “I can get anything I want, from custom made models to research vehicles.”
“Why cars, though?”
“It’s kind of like a form of controlled excitement, I guess. I can get a thrill without the danger.”
“You like thrills, but you don’t like taking risks?”
“I guess so.” I took another drink. “But sometimes you have to take risks.” I trained my eyes on her, and nearly caught her jolt—just a bit.
“Like tonight?” she asked.
I nodded slowly. “I’m going to fuck you senseless.”
She went still, her eyes wide, her breath catching in her throat.
“Come on,” I said, getting up. I took her hand and helped her up out of her seat.
“Hey, I—”
“No.” I wrapped my arm around her to lead her out to the car. “You’re coming with me, and there’s nothing you can do.” She let me guide her out toward the lot and into the car. Then, when I got in, she jumped on me, her lips tasting of red wine, her mouth responsive. Every touch, every swipe of my tongue, every flutter of breath was magnified by the electricity pounding through my veins.
She pulled away. “Drive,” she said.
Driving meant turning my attention away from her. That was the last thing I wanted to do, but I couldn’t wait a second longer. I peeled out of the lot and hit the gas as soon as I got onto the freeway. She went stiff, holding onto her door handle for dear life as I wove through traffic.
Every turn was another thrill. Her eyes would go wide, and she’d gasp. I turned it into a game, going as fast as I could safely get away with while watching her silently freaking out.
“Having fun?” I asked her.
“Are you trying to kill us?”
“It’s fun. Admit it.” I merged off the freeway and threw the car around a loop.
“Jesus!”
I belted out laughing. “Too much?” I let my hand slip up her leg.
“You’re crazy.”
“You know you love it.”
Once we got off the freeway, she seemed to relax a bit and watched as the city passed us by.
Chapter Ten
We flew up the hill at what must’ve been ninety miles an hour. There was a sharp twist at the bottom and a cluster of boulders straight ahead, and Archer didn’t show any sign of slowing down. He glanced at me, smiling with his teeth catching the light from the dashboard console.
“Archer!” I screamed. We were getting closer.
“What?” he asked casually.
“Look.” I pointed at the rocks. “You’re going to kill us.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took his hand off the wheel and rested it behind his head.
“Stop!” I could practically feel the granite rubbing against my face.
His other hand was resting on my thigh, inching closer. I could feel the pressure building between my legs, and that light, fluttering sensation would only get stronger until it overwhelmed my senses.
He looked me dead on, his hand resting between my legs. He swept his palm over my lips then threw the car to the left. I felt like I’d just left my body.
“You like that?” He pressed his finger in then moved his hand.
My legs were shaking. I was struggling to hold them together, and he was loving every second of it, licking his lips like he was ready to eat me whole. What had I gotten myself into? Was he crazy?
“You’re really worried?” He turned into the security gate in front of his house.
“Look what you just did.”
“I’m a pilot. I can get us around a corner.” He entered his gate code and waited for it to open.
“That doesn’t mean you have to scare me to death doing it. Why would you do that?”
He stopped the car in front of the house and dove down, lifting my chin as he left a wet trail with his tongue over my neck. Then he clamped down on my bottom lip. “Cause it’s fucking sexy watching you freak out,” he whispered in my ear.
I felt goose bumps pop up all over my body as I watched him jump out and walk around to let me out of the car. The sweet, intoxicating scent of his cologne was all around me. Was this a mistake? There was no turning back now. He was already opening the passenger door, his hand held out for me to grab it.
His lips met mine the second my head peeked out. His hands wrapped around my waist, leading me back toward the front door while he drank me in, letting his tongue pass over my lip, then into my mouth, further and further, while I wrapped my arms around his neck.
He slammed me against the door, his body like fine marble, pinning me down. “You’re so beautiful.” He reached back with one hand to open the door and pressed me through, back toward the stairs where he swept me up off my feet and began carrying me up to his room.
He wasn’t just a man. He was the master of my body, commanding it as if it were his own. He let me down onto the bed and knelt over me. His eyes met mine, traveled down until they reached his crotch. “You want this?” He was already bulging, his thumb playing over the head.
“Dear God, yes.” I lunged toward it, but he held me back and wagged his finger playfully. He stood up, his hips swaying slightly, his eyes sliding down my body as his hands moved up his chest. He started with a single button at the top of his shirt, revealing nothing but a tuft of black chest hair. Then, he moved on to the second button, and I watched, intoxicated, as he moved down from one button to the next.
His chest was a map of scarred mocha skin and black tribal tattoos that covered his shoulders. This wasn’t a civilized man. He was an animal being forced to live among humans. Nothing about him was soft or elegant. He was all quick, brisk movements and pure kinetic energy.
There was a presence around him. It wasn’t something that I could reach out and touch, but it was tangible, more so than anything else around us. It was primal, dangerous, and beautiful. Something that couldn’t be controlled or possessed, just experienced. Every inch of skin he revealed was another facet of it, his ridged abs, his b
road shoulders, and of course, those eyes.
I’d never seen eyes like his before. They were like razors, slicing through my clothes, my skin, down to my core where he’d taken hold. He threw his shirt down and fingered his button with a deep laugh that stuck to my gut. I had to keep my legs closed tight to fight off the warm, tickling sensation springing up between them.
Then he jumped on the bed, his knees straddling me, his cock so close to my mouth I could practically taste it. The head was bulging out, pressing against his fly. He fell down on top of me, blanketing me with his warm lips, streaming down my neck, behind my ear, and then his teeth. He clamped down on the skin, sending out ripples of electricity.
I gasped. It was too sweet, too much. I couldn’t handle it, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he lifted my shirt up and threw it onto the ground, exposing me to the icy chill of the air around me. Then he threw me back down on the bed, grabbed my hands, and pinned me down, laughing as his lips moved down my chest, his hand pushing up underneath my bra. He clamped down on my nipple then moved his finger over the areola, sending little flutters of air passing through my lips.
He unclasped my bra, threw it down to the side, and began to use his teeth, his lips, his fingers. They all playing my nipples in a harmonic symphony of sweet sensations that flew through my body then concentrated itself between my thighs. I was throbbing now, begging to be filled.
He rose up, his body towering over mine, straddling my side. Then he lifted two fingers, licked them, and slipped them down my pants. He slid them over my lips slowly. He moaned and drank in my reaction. I was struggling, biting my bottom lip, trying to hold it in. My whole body was ready to burst.
“Are you ready?” He unbuttoned his pants, revealing a tuft of black hair. He was messing with his fly with his head cocked to the side playfully.
“Mm-hmm.” I couldn’t take it. I was going to come.
“Yeah?” He lowered his zipper just enough to give me a look at the base of his cock.
“Don’t make me beg.”
“Don’t make me ask you to.” He undid his zipper and let his cock fall out. It was standing straight up, jumping up and down eagerly. He pulled my head up and pressed his cock past my lips into my mouth. He hit the back of my throat instantly and kept going. I needed to taste every bit of it, let my tongue move over the foreskin, and twist my hand over the shaft, but he was the one in control. He pushed through, held my head, and pulled back out. Then he dove back in again.