Remembering my manners, I hold out my glass. “Want to try?”
He gives me an ‘I don’t know about this’ look but tastes it anyway. He smacks his lips together. “Fruity with a large dose of sugar. You’ll have diabetes by tonight if you have more than one glass of that stuff.”
I pout. “I suppose you want your manly hops, huh?”
He thumps his chest. “But, of course. You still have some left from the other night?” He opens the fridge and gets one.
The other night… when he’d brought a six pack of extra hoppy beer and some burritos from the little Mexican restaurant down the street. We’d played strip poker that night and even though I’d been wearing yoga pants, a tank top, t-shirt, cardigan, bra and panties, he still won.
I shiver and wonder when that bit of private time will be broadcast out for everyone in the world to see. Maybe the video is already online.
Wine glass and beer bottle in hand, we walk back into the living room. I show him the small hole near the top of the wall, less than an inch from the ceiling where the camera had been found. The investigator and two other men had been by early this afternoon and did a ‘sweep’ of my apartment.
“All three cameras were wireless.”
Ken is standing on a chair to get a better look at the tiny hole. He hops down. “Three?”
I nod and am suddenly so cold. “Yep. All tiny. All wireless. They also found two recording chips; one under the coffee table and another under my bed.”
“Are they sure they found everything?”
“They think so. They were here for over two hours with some kind of electric wand thingy that is supposed to pick up bugs and stuff.”
“Did you tell them about Jerome?” He grits Jerome’s name out through his teeth.
“Yes. I told them everything… how Beth’s phone was being messed with, our grades being bad, a parking ticket Beth got that she never remembered, Jerome’s proposal, what Prof—”
“Proposal? What proposal?”
I stare at him. Holy shit, I never got to tell him. Did that happen just yesterday too? Yes, it all happened right before the picnic and the amber alert. I’ve not spoken to him since. He doesn’t know any of the other stuff that’s happened.
I take his hand and lead him to the couch. “We better sit down. This is a pretty long story.”
Twenty minutes later, Ken’s face is still planted firmly in his hands. I’m rubbing my fingers up and down his spine as he processes everything I’ve told him.
“That fucking bastard.” The words are muffled, but I recognize them; he’s said them at least ten times since I began my story.
“Yes. He is.”
Ken lifts his head and looks over at me, then leans back into the cushion of the sofa. He picks up my hand and traces the outline of my fingers with his. “We’ll get him.” His voice doesn’t sound powerful or certain.
I’ve done this to him. I’ve taken a man who was larger than life, filled with so much confidence… and now, I’ve never seen someone look so helpless.
I curl my fingers into his, linking us together. I take a deep breath and say what I’ve needed to say since he walked in my door. “I hope so. I hope they get him. But until then, it’s probably best…” I can’t say anything else, it’s as if my heart has a choke hold on my vocal chords. I swallow, but the feeling won’t go away.
“No,” he says, reading my mind.
I nod and pull my hand from his. The words are strangled, but they come out this time. “Yes. I can’t let him hurt you anymore. Maybe someday…”
“Maybe someday what, Steph? Maybe someday the jerk will get caught and you won’t have to be afraid anymore. In the meantime, I’m just supposed to walk away? And do what? Only get to see you on www.jeromesaloser.com? Maybe I can follow you on Facebook and make sure you’re okay there.”
It hits me. He’s trying to save me, just like his sister. He is here out of obligation. That’s not the only reason, I know that deep down. But it’s the leading reason right now. He feels obligated to rescue me from this situation. I can’t let him be ruined for trying.
“But your job, your reputation.”
“Stephanie, half of Las Vegas has already seen my white ass humping up and down on that amber alert. Plus, I have a well-known rep for being a player. This doesn’t hurt my reputation one bit. It’s you…”
“I’m not your sister.” The words fly out and he looks as if he’s been slapped. I soften my voice. “You don’t have to save me. You’ve already given me such happiness; I hope you know that. This past month has been wonderful, but it’s best…” I choke up again, then say with more conviction. “It’s best if you leave now.”
“No.” He turns on the sofa to fully face me.
“Please, don’t make this harder than it already is.” I can’t look at him. I stare at the hole in the wall where the camera was. A visual reminder of what I must do. I must save Ken.
“No.” He scoots closer to me; his voice is just above a whisper.
I stare at the hole, stare at the hole, stare at the hole. “You have to.”
A lone tear finds its way past my lashes. He reaches out and wipes it away. His palm is warm as it curves around my cheek. His breath is hot as he leans close to my ear and says, “No. No I don’t.”
Without warning, he’s on me and my arms are around his neck and I’m kissing him back with an intensity that goes beyond urgent. I open my mouth and invite his tongue to dance with mine. They tangle and swirl with each other. I’m falling… so deeply into all that’s happening between us. It’s always this way, even that first time.
First time!
I push at his chest, remembering the video of our first time together here on this couch. We were being recorded, our most intimate moments captured for the world to see. I panic and push at his chest harder.
“What’s wrong?”
“Up. I need up.” I can’t breathe. I push and push, but I’m still trapped beneath his weight.
He’s on his feet in a second and then down on his knees, his hands on either side of my face.
“The camera. Right here.” I try to explain, the words coming between gasping breaths. “Not here. Please. Not here.”
He stands and picks me up, carrying me like a child into my bedroom and then into my bath. He keeps an arm around me as he lowers me to my feet. He closes the door and turns off the light. We’re in total darkness, the black surrounding us like a womb. There’s only our breathing and the beating of my heart. His hands run up my arms, my neck and into my hair.
“It’s just you and me now,” he whispers against my lips. “No one and nothing can be here but the two of us.”
I sob and reach for him, take handfuls of his t-shirt into my fists and pull him against me as my back bumps into the closed door. His lips claim mine, sucking and taking, crushing me between him and the wood. I don’t care now. My eyes are wide open. I can see nothing, yet I see everything.
I see the love I feel for him.
I kiss him harder, more urgently, pulling his tongue into my mouth. My fingers find the closing of his shorts. Within seconds I’m pushing them to his knees, and my hands are around his hardness. Stroking him. Stroking the softness and steel in my palms, while he continues to devour my mouth.
I need him inside me and I wiggle out of my bottoms, just as his mouth leaves my lips and finds my throat. I hear the rip of the condom wrapper, a tiny hiss that gives me chills. My hands move to his shoulders and I pull myself up, using him for leverage until my sex is at his sex, his cock nudging my entrance.
His lips are on mine again and I feed on him, as his hands drop to cup my ass.
“Please,” I moan into his mouth and he slides into me inch by spectacular inch. I stretch around him, gripping him like a glove, pulsing and clenching until he’s balls deep inside.
“Hard,” I beg as I hook my ankles around his back and ride him thrust for thrust. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my ass as he pounds into
me. The slapping of our bodies together is so erotic. He moans, the sound vibrating into my soul.
I can’t see… only feel, only smell, only taste, only hear and all those sense come alive. I suck his lower lip into my mouth and he growls, his fingers digging deeper. I love it. Everything about it. I love him.
The reality of my love collides with my orgasm as I tumble from the peak of ecstasy. “Yes,” I cry, sobbing into his neck from the intensity of everything I’m feeling. I can’t stop trembling. He can’t stop thrusting. Soon, he’s roaring through his own brink. Thrusting, thrusting, thrusting as he pours into me.
We cling to each other in a darkness still so complete there isn’t even a pinpoint of light to focus on. It’s only our breaths again, competing with the beating of my heart. It begins to crack as I, more firmly than ever, know what I must do… when you love someone, you sacrifice yourself for their happiness. You put them first. Isn’t that what real love is?
I hold onto him, as tight as I can for another moment. I can’t believe what I’m about to do, but it must be done.
“We can’t stay in the dark forever, Ken.” Even my whisper sounds too loud in this little room. “You deserve better than that. Please… please… you need to go.”
He stops breathing. I don’t hear the sound or feel the movement of his chest. There’s only the pulse of his heart against my breast. He loosens his grip and I slide down until my feet touch tile. I lean against the door to steady myself.
The heat of his body moves away and I hear the rustle of his clothes as he pulls up his shorts. I bend down to pull my pants up as his zipper hisses into place.
He reaches for me, his fingers touching me and then working their way up my shirt and to my shoulders. “If you need anything… anything at all… do you promise to call me?”
I nod and realize he can’t see the movement. “Yes. I promise. You do the same.”
Feeling behind me, my fingers find the doorknob and I somehow find the strength to turn it. Light spills into the room and we both cover our eyes. We laugh, soft little sounds with no heart behind them.
He steps out of the bathroom, pulling me after him to the living room. He stops at my front door and starts to turn toward me and I stop him, a hand on his shoulders.
“No. Please don’t look back. I can’t. Just go.”
He opens the front door and steps through it. “Bye Steph,” he says without turning and walks away.
I want to scream for him to come back. I want to wail at the heavens at the unfairness of all. I do none of that. Instead, I close the door with a very soft, “Goodbye.”
Chapter 6 – Ken
What the fuck was that?
Steph’s door closes behind me and I stop, caught in a hellhole of indecision. A part of me wants to turn back, to talk some sense into her. The other part wants to run toward the freedom that’s been handed to me on a silver platter. I know I’ll get over Stephanie; doesn’t everybody have to get over someone at least once in their life? But, dammit, I hope it happens quickly because right now, the dagger in my chest is way too deep.
Sleep.
I need to get home, sleep for twelve hours and see what tomorrow brings. Maybe go visit one of my usual girls… Daisy, Olivia, Samantha. Spend a little time with a woman who wants nothing but a drink and an orgasm. A woman who doesn’t look at me like she… hell… like she loves me. There’s too much responsibility attached to that kind of look.
I start down the steps. It’s best that I go and let Steph find someone who really wants a relationship, who also dreams of picket fences and dirty diapers. That’s so not me.
Forcing my feet to move and continue down the steps, moving to the side when I see someone struggling with two bags of groceries and a six-pack.
“Need some help?” Damn, the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Boy Scout 101.
The woman looks up and it’s Beth, Stephanie’s friend. “Oh hi, Ken. I’ve got it, thanks anyway.” She hefts a grocery bag higher on a hip and keeps climbing. She stops, hefts it again and takes another step before it slips. She laughs. “Okay, maybe I don’t got it. Help!”
I reach her just as the bag is heading to the ground. “Shit, that’s heavy. What can you possibly buy at the grocery store that weighs sixty-four pounds?”
She laughs again. “Ice cream. Lots of it,” she says and continues up the steps. I can’t help but look up at Stephanie’s door and am grateful when we turn to Beth’s apartment in the opposite direction.
Setting her other bag and the six-pack down, Beth digs in her pocket for her key. She opens the door, grabs her things and I follow her inside. Her apartment is the mirror opposite of Stephanie’s, in layout and in color. Where Stephanie’s is cheerful and sparse, Beth’s is glamorous and knick-knacky. I shudder, trying to imagine dusting all that shit.
In the kitchen, Beth plops everything down on the counter and holds up the six-pack. “Want a beer?” I would have expected some girly beer, but it’s a good German Hefeweizen. Then she starts pulling out cartons of ice cream and raises her eyebrow at me. “I’ve got Rocky Road, Cookie Dough and my favorite, Mocha Toffee Coffee.”
I pretend to gag. “What, no vanilla?”
She rolls her eyes at me and starts stuffing things in her refrigerator. “Boring. I don’t do vanilla.” Realizing what she said could be taken two ways, she points a finger at me. “That totally didn’t come out...” She slaps her hand to her forehead. “Good grief, I’m going to just stop talking now.”
I can’t help but laugh. No wonder Steph and Beth are best friends; they’re both hilarious. With her hand still over her mouth, she holds up a bottle of beer.
“No thanks, I gotta head out. I had a beer with Steph before all the shit went down.”
Beth drops her hand. “What shit?”
She doesn’t know? “I thought all girlfriends got together and plotted out their entire life in ice cream filled chick sessions.” I can’t believe Beth didn’t know Steph was going to break us up, but she certainly looks surprised.
I say with as little emotion as I can possibly muster, “Steph showed me the door tonight.” I give the casual ‘no big deal’ shrug and Beth narrows her eyes at me.
She pops the top off two beers, then opens a cabinet for two glasses. “Want to talk about it?”
Talk about it? Har de har har… I think my testicles just hugged each other in terror. “Uh, no. I don’t do talking.”
She narrows her eyes again. “Well, I want to talk about it, all this crap that’s been going on. Do you think your male dignity can withstand a few spoken words?” She puts a hand on her hip. “You can thump your chest once for yes, twice for no if it makes you feel better.”
Little smart ass.
I laugh as I watch her pour two German weizen glasses with a perfect one-inch head. “Where did you learn that?” I was all about a little change in subject.
She smiles and hands one to me. “We’re allowed electives and I took a beer class.”
I shake my head and take a sip of the still foamy beer. “Damn, maybe I should go back to college. Getting credit for drinking beer. That’s my idea of learning.”
Beth puts her nose into the glass and inhales. “When I took the class with another friend of mine, we thought it was going to be a joke class. We wanted to meet boys and figured it would be easy.”
She holds it up to the light and then takes a small sip. “Little did I know it would be one of the classes I remember the most about. I still geek out and follow the protocol: aroma, appearance, flavor, mouth feel. My friends think I’m weird, and not just because I like beer.”
I take another sip. “I really like this. Maybe one day you can teach me a little more about it, but today is probably not that day.”
Shit! I shouldn’t have said that because Beth’s eyes grow sad again and she says, “Come on, let’s talk.”
Sighing heavily, I follow her into her living room. She sits on her pale blue sofa—who owns a freakin�
� pale blue sofa?—and I choose the matching love seat and sink into its low cushions.
“Maybe you should have been an interior decorator instead of a nurse,” I say, looking around.
Beth pulls a cream colored throw over her legs. “This is my mom’s doing. She surprised me one day by having an interior decorator overhaul my entire apartment. I walked in the door and just about screamed my head off thinking I’d stepped into some kind of gaudy twilight zone.”
I look around again, trying to think of something nice to say. “It’s fancy.”
Beth barks out a laugh. “You should have seen it before I tossed most of it out. It looked like Martha Stewart threw up in here. There were pearls… pearls… hanging off the lampshades.”
As I continue to look around, the silence between us grows to an uncomfortable level. I’m sure as shit not going to bring up Stephanie, and if Beth doesn’t, I’m going to drink my beer and split. I start to gulp, deciding that’s my getaway plan, but I’m thwarted by little Miss Talkative.
“Ken, I know you don’t know me that well, but I’m scared for Stephanie and everything that’s been going on. She mentioned to me that she thought you’d be better off without her messing up your life, but I never thought she would actually break up with you.”
I stare at my glass, turning it around and around in my hands. “Beth, I have to be honest with you. I’m not the type to really give a crap about leaving a relationship when the time is right.”
Beth’s mouth tightens, her lips pursing together into a thin line. She’s about to let me have it, so I go on. “If it was any other girl, I would have been out the door weeks ago and never looked back. Steph scares you? She scares me too, for different reasons. I like her, a lot, which totally goes against my long term plans of not ending up with a ball on the end of my chain. I’m just not that kind of guy and I’m afraid I’ll be the one who ends up hurting her. I don’t want that either.”
Stoking the Embers (New Adult Romantic Suspense): The Complete Series Page 15