by Colet Abedi
“A couple of your standard dating apps, etc. etc. Figure I might as well take a swing at a few.” He shrugs. I wonder what a “swing” looks like for him.
“What’s your favorite?”
“An app that reports environmental and animal abuse, immediately informing lawmakers and posting a bulletin.”
“I like the sound of that one,” I agree, loving that it’s his favorite investment. “And what about the club?”
His indecipherable gaze locks with mine. “The club is a hobby.”
“You’re there quite often.” I think I might sound a bit snarky, but I can’t help it. If I’m honest, I’ll admit that I get a bit jealous when I think about what’s happened there, in that den of his. And thinking about it after everything we shared, what I know of him…ugh. It makes me sick to my stomach. “It’s definitely a hobby that caters to your every need.”
I’m irritated. I can’t help it.
“What are you getting at?” Ian cocks his head and narrows his eyes. “Do I hear a tad bit of judgment when you happen to be a regular member of my club?”
“There are a lot of beautiful women who come and go.” I can’t seem to help myself and this verbal diarrhea that just won’t stop. My evil twin with claws rears her ugly head. “A lot of beautiful women who spend time in a lot of different rooms, wanting to do a lot of different things. And I’m sure you’ve had your pick of the litter. It’s definitely the ideal hobby.”
I can’t believe that came out of my mouth! Oh. My. God.
I sound insane. Ian is right, I have no right to judge him, absolutely no right…but what the hell? I’m suddenly and irrationally seething. I want to rip out their hair for being with him. What can a girl do?
“And?” he quips, his voice like steel.
I shrug and pick up my wine glass. Crap, it’s empty. I go to pick up the bottle, but Ian beats me to it and fills it for me.
“Princess.” He sounds kind of pissed, but I can’t be sure. “I am not going to apologize for anything I did in or outside the club. I’m a man with a healthy appetite who happens to love to fuck. A lot.”
“Yes, I know firsthand,” I say with as much dignity as I can, but I know my face is on fire. I can feel the heat coming off my skin. “And thank you for sharing that edifying piece of knowledge.”
There’s an uncomfortable silence, and I occupy the moment by helping myself to a shrimp cocktail.
“So what do you think of my other projects?” Ian says after a moment.
By changing the subject, I’m sure he’s trying to make peace and avoid what could seriously become a catastrophic argument. I’m acting like a total asshole. I wish I could blame it on the wine, but what I’m feeling right now is just raw jealousy. But I can’t act crazy with him because I seriously have no right.
“The other projects you told me about all sound pretty diverse.” I try to keep my voice neutral. “But I guess they have to be.”
“That’s right,” he says, and I can feel the mood shift to something lighter.
“My father taught me that,” I tell him with a small smile and watch as his mood visibly darkens. “Why do you look like that every time I mention my dad?”
I haven’t held anything back from this man, so why start now?
Chapter Fourteen
Kerri
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ian’s gaze captures mine.
“Come on.” I shake my head, not buying it. I can’t help but tease him. “I know your grumpy expression very well by now. It’s one I’ve grown accustomed to in a short time, I might add.”
“I think you’re reading into something that isn’t there.” He shrugs, his look innocent, completely ignoring my joke.
I hold his gaze.
“You’re sensitive,” he says.
I can’t argue with him there, especially on the heels of the club talk. I nod after a second and accept his word. I think I buy it. Ian doesn’t have anything to gain from me, I remind myself. He literally has it all and can have whatever he wants. As time goes on, I’ll learn to navigate his moods better and learn how to read him.
Crap. There I go again, assuming there’s something more between us than this weekend.
I glance at the halibut and try to get out of my own mind. Let me just get back to learning as much about him as I can—the same way he knows so much about me.
I change the subject. “What’s your favorite fish?”
“English dover sole.”
“Fancy. Do you eat meat?”
“Like a beast,” he admits.
“That’s not good,” I admonish with a laugh. “Too much meat is terrible for your health.”
His gaze locks mine, and the look is fiery.
“Too much of anything isn’t good for you,” I say almost awkwardly, trying to get my train of thought back even though I’m lost in his eyes.
“Some addictions are worth it.” His eyes smolder with desire as they settle on my lips. I feel my world shift. “I’m already wondering how I’m going to survive the week without being able to touch you at any second of the day, whenever I want.”
I know he can hear my gasp.
“Because all I’m thinking is how that body is mine.”
My body responds to his words and longs for him.
“I’ve been trying everything in my power to keep my hands off of you.” The look in his eyes tells me how badly he wants me. “To let you rest, when all I want is to be inside you.”
Before I know what’s happening, he picks me up off the carpet we’ve been lounging on and throws me back on the bed before covering my body with his. My hands are on his trunks in record time, and I pull them down. I push Ian so his back is on the bed, then I trace kisses down his abdomen. His cock is hard, large, and everything I want it to be. And I want to know what it tastes like. Up until now, he’s been the only one who’s been allowed to sample anything.
But now it’s my turn to play.
I run ever so softly my hands down his length, loving how strong he is here as well. Ian sighs in pleasure.
“God, Kerri,” he whispers.
I look up him and soak in the scene. He looks so beautiful like this. His eyes closed in ecstasy, his face filled with bliss. I memorize it.
“God Kerri, what?” I ask before licking the tip of his shaft.
His breath hisses and his desire-drenched blue eyes lock with mine. I blow on the tip and smile when he swears. He looks irritated over my power, like he needs to show me who’s in charge.
“Suck me.”
God, his command turns me on. I wish it didn’t. But all I want is for him to satisfy this crazy need that’s building inside me, that’s been multiplied into a trillion just from knowing how much I turn him on. But before I get any of that, I need to give him some of the pleasure he’s shown me.
“Kerri.” His voice holds a hint of a warning, and I wonder what will happen if I disobey…but not this time.
I cover his cock with my lips, holding him as I lick and suck, working him until he can’t take it anymore and he’s on the brink. But he doesn’t come. Instead, he pulls me up to cover my mouth with his.
“I need to fuck you now,” he whispers against my lips, as if he’s asking me for permission. “I need to feel your sweet pussy around me.”
I’d melt into the bed if I could.
“Now,” is all I’m able to manage, giving him permission, my heart dying over his consideration. I can’t believe he’s even asking me when he can tell how willing I am.
He thrusts into me a second later and we moan together. My body floods with pleasure. I feel him in every molecule, every cell. The feeling is so gratifying, I’m almost overcome. He makes love to me with a ferocious passion, a sweet tenderness mixed in with that feral, possessive way. Electricity rushes through my body.
“Don’t stop,” I beg, not wanting the pleasure storm to end.
His pace continues until he gives me the release I’m begging for. My sex
clenches his and my body trembles from the force of my orgasm sweeping over me until all I see is light. He comes a moment later, saying my name as he does. His body partially collapses on mine, but he won’t put too much weight on me.
We stay in our zone for a while, then he squeezes me tightly before rolling over and pulling my body back up into his.
“Should we continue eating now?” He asks after a few seconds of silence.
I laugh out loud.
****
Later in the night, after our appetites for food and sex are satiated, we lie in each other arms and tell each other stories from our childhoods—the most embarrassing moments. I just finished recounting an especially mortifying time when I walked around Century City Mall with a toilet seat cover stuck to my jeans for a full hour.
Ian had a good laugh over it. When he finally manages to stop, his gaze sweeps over my face, and the tender look he gives me is nearly my undoing.
“Beautiful,” he says, his voice soft.
“What is?” I ask with a nervous laugh even though I know he’s talking about me.
“Your face,” he says with such reverence that it takes my breath away. “Your fucking mind.”
My heart stops beating.
“Your words.” His gaze flickers to my lips. “Your soul.”
“Ian—”
His fingers cover my lips. “This is only about you.”
I close my eyes and kiss his fingers in gratitude. His words mean everything. How is he even for real? “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” he replies with a smile, then yawns loudly. “Now, I think I’m going to have to get some sleep, beautiful. I’m completely spent.”
I almost feel sorry for him.
“Good night, old man.” I tease. “I hope I don’t wear you out too easily tomorrow.”
That does the trick. He practically growls and pulls me into his embrace so he can playfully nip my lips. “I’ll remind you a little later how good an old man really is. But right now, this old fella needs his shut-eye.”
I place a chaste kiss on his lips before laying my cheek against his chest. God, I think I’m already in love with this position. Like, I’m pretty sure I’m going to crave it when we get back home. I wish we didn’t have to leave tomorrow. I don’t want this time together to end. Like, ever.
My mind races. I can call in sick for work on Monday. It won’t be pretty and they’ll be sure to give me the shit assignments when I’m back, but I’ll take it if I get to spend more time with him. But that’s only if Ian wants to stay longer as well. I’m willing to pay the Pied Piper at work if I can have one more day of this.
“Call in sick for work on Monday.” Ian’s commanding voice breaks the silence and my inner dialogue. I can’t believe he’s thinking the exact same thing as me.
“I was hoping you’d ask,” I admit.
“I wasn’t asking, darlin’,” he drawls teasingly.
“I’ll let you have this caveman moment.” I sigh happily, burrowing deeper in his strong embrace.
And then it dawns on me.
Oh. My. God.
I think I’m falling in love.
WTF.
****
I don’t know if I’ve ever hated work as much as I do when I return on Thursday morning. Yes, I skipped two more days—at Ian’s insistence. Not that he can take all the blame. It wasn’t that hard to twist my arm. I called in sick and let Wylder and Tony know I was okay and away in Mexico with Ian-Trouble-Sutherland.
Tony actually knows who Ian is. I shouldn’t be surprised—because Tony always knows who everyone is—but I am. I’m impressed, even though it’s so annoying that he’s such a know-it-all.
As I look around the drab kitchen for the interns and assistants, I’m wondering why I didn’t listen to Ian and stay with him in Cabo until Sunday. It sure as hell beats this hellhole.
God, I miss him.
We didn’t sleep together last night because it didn’t work out. To be honest, it was kind of an awkward goodbye in his car when he dropped me off at my house in the Hills. We didn’t make any definitive plans. He just kissed me long and hard and promised he’d call.
And he kept his word.
He called an hour later and wanted me to come over to his house. He wanted to send his driver to come get me so he could sleep next to me. Ian even promised he’d behave so I could rest for work. His offer warmed every single part of my body and heart, but it was already too late. I was in bed and actually exhausted from the sex marathon Ian and I embarked on for days.
So even though it killed me, I refused. I begged him to come to my place instead, but he refused my offer. I got the feeling he was annoyed with me for denying him, but tough. He needs to learn he’s not always going to get his way.
I glance at my iPhone. It’s past noon and he hasn’t reached out yet. I shouldn’t be so affected by that, but I am. I wonder if he’s obsessing about me as much as I am about him. Then, like a runaway train, my mind goes to the dark side and I wonder if I’ll ever hear from him again. If it will be a week, or a day, or a month…or who knows how long? I remind myself that he went out of his way to warn me to stay away. He was given the nickname Trouble for a reason. And now maybe because he didn’t get his way with me this one time, he might act like a giant ass and ignore me.
The thought is chilling.
I promise myself if that happens, I’ll exact my revenge on him at his own damn club. How’s that for even Steven?
“You’re tan and fabulous, but you look like you’re going to stab that sashimi with your chopstick.” Wylder joins me at the table and pulls out her own lunch. It looks very fancy and I’m pretty sure Jamie’s chef put it together for her, because she sure as hell can’t afford that kind of meal with what they pay us. I know what her financial situation is like, which is why she pays next to nothing for rent at the house. I’ve always tried to help her out as much as I can. I stare at her meal. There’s crisp tofu, brown rice, kale, a fresh-pressed green smoothie, and thick steak cut fries, which I know are her favorite.
I immediately go for a fry.
Jamie Donovan is clearly in love with her.
“By all means.” She pushes the container toward me and scrutinizes my face.
I try not to roll my eyes.
“Why so serious?” she asks.
“Trouble.” My gaze flickers to hers.
“Ian-Trouble?”
“Same man,” I say with some annoyance.
“What’s going on?” Wyld leans in, her eyes laced with concern. “I thought you were having an incredible time with him in Cabo.”
“I did have an incredible time.”
“Then what gives?” Wylder looks perplexed. “Is everything okay with you? You usually tell me everything, but with him, you’ve been so secretive. It’s unlike you.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Tell me about it.” Her voice is laced with a good deal of sarcasm. I guess her situation with Jamie complicates her life as well. I can tell she’s bothered I’m holding back.
I take a moment then decide to share. “If I tell you about one of his secret businesses, you promise you won’t tell a soul?” Our eyes lock.
“Pinkie promise.” She holds up her hand.
Here it goes.
“He owns the club,” I whisper.
Wylder’s eyes widen in shock and incredulity, but all in all, she takes it gracefully. I expected more of an overt reaction, but I guess she has to hold it in considering we’re at work.
“That’s kind of hot,” she takes her time, but does eventually come out with a bang.
“He is,” I agree adamantly. “It is. All of him.”
Wylder smiles broadly. I pop a piece of sushi in my mouth and stare off into space with what I’m sure is a forlorn, lovesick expression. I’m sure Wyld is beside herself witnessing this new version of me.
“I can’t wait to meet him.” She sounds excited. “Can we do a double date?”
&nb
sp; “Maybe.” I shrug, wishing I could definitively say yes. But I can’t because I don’t know what the rules are yet.
Wylder’s eyes narrow as she studies me. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know what to tell you except the relationship is just really complicated, Wyld, and I can’t even tell you why, but it is.” I know I sound frustrated. “He’s really complicated. And together we are just full of complications.”
“I’ve heard that before,” she says dryly.
“No,” I insist, shaking my head. “He is. There’s more to him than what I see, than what he’s told me. He actually opened up to me a lot in Cabo—I think maybe more than he usually does with people. But there’s more to him, and it might just be part of who he is, who he’ll always be. And right now, I guess I’m willing—”
I can’t even bring myself to say the words out loud.
“To take what you can get.” Wylder has no problem saying them for me.
I’m embarrassed hearing them. “I sound so pathetic.”
“Stop. You’re clearly just falling in love with the guy, or maybe already are, and don’t give me that horrified face because you and I both know it’s totally possible. It’s obvious this is more than your usual experience with a man.”
She’s right about that. It’s definitely not my usual experience with a man.
“Kerri?” an intern—I can’t remember her name for the life of me—interrupts our conversation.
“Yes?”
“This just came for you,” she says as a man enters the kitchen, holding an enormous arrangement of lilies and peonies and other gorgeous flowers.
Wyld’s mouth and mine drop open at the sight.
“You can leave it here,” I say as the man places it on the table next to us. It’s so big, someone’s going to need to help me get it to my car.
“There’s a card.” Wyld points at Ian’s black stationary, the same he used when he sent me the lingerie.
I grab the card and open it, expecting some kind of sweet note. Maybe even an apology. But I’m not expecting this…
He only signed his name. No “love, Ian.” No “xoxo, Ian.” Not even an “enjoy, Ian.” Just plain old Ian. What the hell am I supposed to make of this? I hand the card to Wyld, and I’m surprised to see her smile as though she’s happy about it.