by Kali Argent
“Oh, no.” Melissa giggled, the sound musical and alluring. “Men are what got me in this position in the first place. I’ve sworn them off for a while.”
Starla’s thoughts strayed to Turner, to what excuse she would give him for needing to cancel their date Friday night. Everything she’d come up with so far tasted sour on her tongue and left a hollow feeling in her chest. Life had been so much less complicated before Turner, but at the same time, she wouldn’t trade it, not when he made her feel more alive than she had in years.
“The right one will come along,” she told Melissa. “Don’t give up yet.” A smile played over her lips, and she reached up to stroke the little star at her throat. “Some of them are certainly worth it.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Turner, look alive.” Rina poked her head through the doorway of his office and rapped her knuckles on the frame. “Starla’s here to see you.”
“What?” Turner sat upright so quickly he almost fell out of his chair. “Right now?”
“Yes, right now. Should I send her in?”
He took stock of his basic, black T-shirt, the holes in his jeans, and even combed a hand through his hair, wincing when he found it completely disheveled. It wasn’t as if he could run home, shower, and make himself presentable while Starla waited in the front of the store, though.
“I guess there’s nothing for it. Send her in.”
After she’d blown him off the previous night with some excuse about having a headache, he hadn’t expected to see her again, ever. He might be forgetful, a little eccentric at times, and he didn’t always do or say the most romantic things, but he could take a hint. Hell, she hadn’t even called to thank him for the tiger lilies—her favorites—he’d sent her for Valentine’s Day. The image of her tossing the flowers into the trash while cursing his name flashed through his mind, and he scrubbed both hands over his face and groaned.
“Turner?”
Dropping his hands to this thighs, he looked up and tried to smile. “Hello, stranger.”
Apparently, his attempt fell flat, because Starla frowned. “You look awful. Have you slept at all?”
No. “Of course.” In reality, he’d tossed and turned for most of the night, drifting into a fitful sleep sometime just before dawn. “How was the presentation?”
“It went well,” she answered, still watching him as she dropped her purse into a nearby chair. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Peachy.” Even dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black hoodie with her hair pulled into a high ponytail, she looked more beautiful than he had words to describe. “So, what can I help you with? Is there something wrong with the ad?”
“The ad?” Her manicured eyebrows drew together, and she tilted her head to the side in a curious manner. “Oh, no, no, nothing like that. I actually, well, that is to say…” Trailing off, she pulled in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I was hoping I could steal you away for a couple of hours.”
“I’d have to look at the schedule.”
“Your schedule is clear,” Rina called from the other side of the door, laughing when he barked at her to go away.
In the end, he had no excuse to deny her that didn’t sound contrived or petty. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” Starla answered, rocking up on the balls of her feet. “I know I’m not the easiest person to get to know, and I can be distant—”
“Evasive,” Turner corrected.
The sight of her standing there, clearly nervous and trying to ask him out on a date, erased all of the frustration and uncertainty he’d felt for the past week. If he let her walk away, or worse, if he pushed her away, he’d regret it for the rest of his life. He wanted this woman with everything he had, and before they left his office, he’d make damn sure she knew it.
Rising from his seat, he stalked towards her, backing her against the closed office door. “Stubborn. Guarded. Unpredictable,” he continued. “And you know what?” Pressing in closer, he trapped her with his hands braced on either side of her shoulders. “You make me absolutely, fucking crazy.”
“Is—” She stopped, licked her trembling lips, but she didn’t look away from him. “Is that a bad thing?”
Yes, he wanted her, no doubt, but he wouldn’t make it that easy. “I’m still deciding,” he murmured, leaning into her. “The real question is,” he added, skimming his nose along the curve of her neck, teasing the satiny skin with his lips, “what are you going to do about it?”
If she wanted him, if she felt the same way he did, it was up to her to make the next move. Words were nice, pretty even, but without actions to back them, they lacked substance. No more games. No more mixed signals. Even if she never wanted to see him again, Turner needed to know where he stood with her.
“What’s it going to be?” he pushed, prodding a reaction from her, hoping to break through her glossy mask of control. His eyes locked on her lips, the slight sheen of moisture from her tongue still visible. “It’s your move, Starla. What do you want?”
She stared at him, not saying anything for a long time. Just when he’d all but given up on getting a response, her slender fingers clutched his face, dragging him into a kiss that set his body on fire. Her soft lips molded to his, her tongue eagerly seeking entrance as she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.
Winding an arm around her waist, Turner pressed her tightly against his own body, groaning when her full breasts heaved against his chest. Her perfume, the subtle scent of honeysuckle, filled his head, and the slide of her tongue over his sent a shiver down his spine. She tasted of spiced vanilla, a flavor he’d never particularly cared for until now, and his heart kicked into a gallop as he explored the depths of her mouth.
“You,” she panted against his lips. “I want you.”
His body stirred at the admission, but he wouldn’t take her like a savage there in his office. Starla deserved better, she deserved candlelight, soft music, and roses—or tiger lilies. With a twinge of regret, he settled one hand on her hip and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with the other as he leaned in to brush a light kiss against the corner of her mouth.
“If you want to take it back, this is your last chance, darlin’. When we walk out that door, all bets are off, and I’m not letting you go.”
Color stained her cheeks, and her eyes were a bit wider than usual, but a coy smile tilted her lips. “Come along, dear. I still have a surprise for you.”
“Do you want me to drive?” Though the street had been cleared from the storm that had blown in on Thursday, more snow was predicted for that afternoon and into the evening. “I know you don’t like driving when the weather’s bad.”
Her smirk morphed into a genuine smile as she fluttered her fingers over the tops of his cheeks, just beneath the dark circles he knew shadowed his lower lids. “You look so tired. I don’t mind driving. Where we’re going, it’s a bit of a drive. You can rest on the way.”
Capturing her wrists, he brought her hands to his mouth, kissing both palms in turn. “I’ll be okay. Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Gently, she extracted her hands from his grip and turned to open the door. “I’ll navigate.”
“A bit of a drive” turned out to be nearly forty minutes outside of the city. Starla did indeed make an excellent navigator, and they didn’t get lost once before turning into the parking lot of what looked like nothing more than a large warehouse.
“Where the hell are we?”
Starla laughed and threw her door open. “An indoor trampoline park. You’re going to love it.”
And she’d been right.
Floors and slanted walls made entirely of trampolines, and she’d even gone as far as to rent out the entire building for an hour to give them some privacy. Turner didn’t want to think of how much it had cost her to bargain such a large favor.
“Come on!” he called after twenty minutes of jumping around like a lunatic, twisting, turning, and flipping.
Starla stood off to the side, watching him with a huge grin on her face. “I’m okay. I like watching you.”
Not good enough. Jumping down to the solid floor, he lifted her into his arms and tossed her onto the nearest trampoline. “It’s like flying,” he encouraged. “Stop worrying about what people will think and have some fun.”
Turner held her hands, leading her to the center of the room where he began to bounce slowly, urging her to the do the same. It took another ten minutes of coaxing, but after a while, Starla finally got into the spirit of it. He loved the way she squealed as he bounced her higher, and when her eyes lit with excitement, he swore his heart stopped for a moment before regaining its rhythm.
On his next bounce, he misgauged the distance between them and ended up crashing into her, sending her tumbling to her backside. “Shit. Are you okay?”
Starla rolled to her back, laughing until tears streamed down her cheek. “You’re an idiot,” she trilled between giggles.
Her hair had come undone from its ponytail, and Turner smoothed the flyaway tresses back from her face as he stretched out beside her. “Thank you,” he said reverently, tracing the softness of her lips with his fingertip. “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me, and I’m glad you’re here with me.”
Then he did the one thing he’d wanted to do since they’d left his office. He leaned over her, cradling the side of her face, and pressed their lips together in a heated kiss. One taste hadn’t been enough, would never be enough. His promise of never letting her go hadn’t been just his penchant for the dramatic. He’d meant every word, and he’d do anything, be whatever she wanted him to be, to prove it.
“This isn’t all,” she said when they broke apart, her voice soft and wispy.
“Okay.” He kissed her lips again before climbing to his feet. “Where to next?” It didn’t matter, not really. He’d follow her anywhere.
“Back to my place.”
~
Cocooned in the warmth and safety of her living room, Starla poured a glass of wine, selected another slice of deep dish pizza from the box, and passed the television remote to Turner. Okay, so the last part of her surprise hadn’t been so grand, but she’d wanted some time alone with him, just the two of them without any distractions. They’d done nothing more than watch old horror flicks and cuddle, but it had been one of her best dates in memory.
Her eyes strayed to the flowers displayed prominently on her end table, and she snuggled in closer to Turner’s side. “Thank you again for the tiger lilies. They’re my favorite.”
“I remember,” he answered simply. “I’m glad you like them.”
Knowing Turner, he was already making plans to provide her with fresh flowers every week now. Somehow, she couldn’t feel too bad about that, and she’d just have to think of creative ways to return his generosity.
“Would you like more wine?”
Turner had nursed a glass early in the evening, but he’d since switched to water or soda. “No, thank you.” He squeezed her tight and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s late, and I should probably get going.”
Neither of them had to work the next morning, no reason for him to rush off, and Starla wasn’t ready to say goodbye. “Before you go, I have to ask…”
“Go ahead,” Turner answered around a chuckle. “Anything you want to know.”
“Are you ever going to tell me how you made the money to open Neverland? I know you said it was a video game, but…” Trailing off, she held her hands out and tilted her head to the side. “So?”
He laughed again, relaxing into the cushions and holding her a little tighter. “Decimation.”
“Dec…” Jerking upright, she spun on the sofa to face him. “Explain.”
“I designed it.” He shrugged, downplaying his success. “I told you it was boring.”
Starla knew better. Even she, who had never played a video game in her life, had heard of Decimation. It had won a Game of the Year award, along with other prestigious titles, not to mention breaking records for the most sales ever for a video game in a single day.
It had been so popular, in fact, the game had garnered news coverage and dominated headlines for almost a week. If he received just a fraction of the royalties generated by sales, he’d have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life.
“You’re sort of brilliant.”
Turner moved closer to take her lips in a sweet, though heated, kiss. “I think you’re kind of amazing, too, but I really should be going before the roads get too bad.”
Disappointed but not wanting to show it, Starla pasted on a smile while she helped him clean up their dinner, then kissed him goodbye at the door. Watching him hunch his shoulders against the new round of snow while traversing the slippery sidewalk on the way to his SUV, she kept reminding herself that she’d see him again soon.
She did, after all, have to travel back to the city to retrieve her car, and he’d promised to pick her up in the morning. Maybe they could even have breakfast at the diner he liked so much, if she could get herself moving come daybreak after overindulging in alcohol and pizza.
“Moving,” she mumbled to herself, still standing in the open doorway. “My move.”
Turner’s words came back, as clearly as if he stood next to her, whispering into her ear. “Your move, Starla. What do you want?”
“Turner, wait!”
Stopping, he turned to face her, cocking his head to the side. “Did I forget something?”
Clasping the star pendant for courage, she stepped out onto the concrete porch, ignoring the cold that seeped into the soles of her feet. “Don’t go.” She took another step toward him. “Stay with me.”
Turner hesitated for only a heartbeat.
Marching back down the walkway, he leapt up onto the porch, grabbed her face in both hands, and kissed her with enough passion to set her blood on fire. He walked her backward, stripping out of his coat, but never losing contact with her lips. Then he kicked the door closed and lifted her into his arms, urging her legs around his waist.
“Where?” he rasped, his lips leaving a trail of liquid heat down the side of her throat.
“Down the hall,” Starla panted. “On the right.”
He bounced off the walls twice in the narrow corridor, knocking one of her framed paintings to the floor. They laughed, clinging together as he finally stumbled into her bedroom and fell onto the maroon comforter that covered her bed.
Their laughter faded away as their mouths met in another hungry, searching kiss. Tongues dueled, danced, sliding together in an intimate caress while they worked together to peel off their clothes. They broke apart only long enough for Turner to inquire about condoms and for her to direct him to the nightstand drawer. It had been a while since she’d needed them, and she really hoped they hadn’t expired.
Returning with the package clenched between his teeth, he ripped the cellophane envelope open and removed the condom. “I wanted to do this different,” he told her, sheathing his thick, rigid length in the latex. “Better. You deserve better.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Starla assured him, welcoming Turner into the cradle of her hips. “This is perfect.” Her heart pounded into her throat, her legs trembling as her body vibrated with need and desire. “It’s perfect because it’s you.”
Gripping his shoulders, she pulled him into another heated kiss, shivering when her tingling breasts pressed firmly against his warm, smooth skin. Her breath caught, and she moaned into his mouth, wrapping herself around him as he pushed inside her. His invasion stretched her, causing a familiar ache in her lower belly, and she clung to him as he flexed his hips in a slow, gentle rhythm.
Starla’s body felt overheated, her skin flushed and tingling. When the need became too much, when neither of them could leash their control any longer, Turner increased his pace, driving into her with an untamed abandon. Her lungs burned as she struggled to draw in breath, and her muscles clenched, her inner walls gripping
, squeezing.
They moved as one, bodies undulating together, both racing toward a crescendo that would likely shatter them. Starla fell over the edge first, calling Turner’s name again and again in hushed tones as she tangled her fingers in his silky hair.
When she looked into his eyes, something shifted inside her heart, rearranging all the things she care about most in the world to make room for this incredible person. A voice in the back of her mind whispered that things would never be the same, that she’d been irrevocably changed.
For better or worse, Starla didn’t know yet, but for once in her life, she looked forward to the journey.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As Starla had anticipated, everything had changed. In the weeks that followed, not a day went by that she didn’t see Turner. Lunch dates, dinner dates, random phone calls just to say hello, and more often than not, he ended up sleeping in her bed. Once, she’d stay at his swank apartment in the city, but Turner enjoyed the privacy and quiet of her home in the suburbs.
Having him practically living with her did create problems, like never wanting to leave her bedroom. Which was why on the most important morning of her life, the morning she’d find out if she’d impressed her boss and earned the promotion, she was running late. Entering her office at a quarter after eight, she quickly put away her personal belongings while she waited for her laptop to boot.
She’d barely caught her breath when a knock sounded at the open door, and James stuck his head inside to tell her Mr. Rufio wanted to see them. Her heart began to race, and moisture slicked her palms, but Starla nodded and rose to follow him. In all the scenarios she’d imagined, she’d never thought they’d gather all the applicants together to make the announcement.
As it turned out, Mr. Rufio had called together the entire office in the lobby, motioning Starla, James, and the other two applicants to stand at the front of the crowd. He said a few words about the dedication and talent of each individual, telling everyone how it had been an almost impossible decision to make.
Without further preliminaries or really much fanfare, he announced that Starla had received the promotion, along with the coveted corner office. Then he applauded with everyone else before telling them to get back to work.