by L. M. Carr
My eyes widen in horror and I gasp then scream in fear and surprise.
A woman with dark-hair arches her naked back and screams in ecstasy while the man beneath her curses in pleasure before turning to anger.
A continuous chorus of screams laced with vulgarities can be heard throughout the main level of the house as I pull the door shut and make a beeline for the door.
Holy shit! That was definitely not Romeo or Juliet.
CHAPTER TWO
“You— stay here!” an angry voice shouts, commanding the naked woman to remain in the bedroom while demanding that I stop. “You! Get back here!”
Running frantically in the dark, I trip but quickly manage to stand up and cover my eyes when the recessed lights in the kitchen illuminate. I reach for the keys on the island and secure them between my index and middle finger, wielding my weapon, preparing to strike the perpetrator at any moment.
“What in the hell are you doing?” he asks with humor lacing his voice.
My mouth drops open when my gaze lands on the gorgeous and completely naked man standing before me. “Oh my God! Who are you?! What are you doing here?! Who let you in?!” Question after question tumble from my lips as I struggle to keep my eyes focused on his flushed, sweaty face and away from the erection that nearly touches his navel.
“Me? Who the fuck are you?” He takes three long strides and closes the space between our bodies. “What the hell are you doing in my parents’ house?”
Confusion rattles my brain.
Familiar blue eyes stare down at me, and I narrow mine to focus. “Jackson?”
“Jackson?” he asks quite surprised at the name.
“I thought your name was...never mind...I thought you were someone else.” The only problem is that he is exactly who I believe him to be.
“Andrew. My name is Andrew,” he corrects, searching my face slowly before abruptly asking who I am.
“You’re Ace?” I whisper mostly to myself, wondering if his mother intended for us to meet while she was away on her trip.
“What did you say?” he murmurs darkly.
“It can’t be.” I shake my head and pull my eyes away to take in the rest of his face. Smooth tanned skin is framed by wavy dark hair which seems longer than I remember. I reach for the kitchen towel, holding it out so he can cover the intimidating length which hasn’t decreased in size. He snatches the towel and tosses it down onto the tiled floor.
“Answer my question,” he demands angrily.
I swallow hard then hold my breath as I move away slowly, needing desperately to create some distance between his hard body and mine.
“Who are you?” he grits again. I close my eyes when the sweet scent of his breath infiltrates my nose.
“Morgan,” I concede on a whisper.
“Morgan?” Uttering my name slowly, Andrew appears thoughtful as if considering the time and place we’ve met. Finally, he blinks and the recognition is crystal clear.
He remembers.
The faintest sign of a smile tugs at his lips as he nods once and hums. “Ah yes, Morgan,” he drags out slowly as his smile transforms into a smirk.
“I...I work for your parents,” I add, hoping to somehow erase the memory that has haunted me for years.
“I think you do more than that, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re in their house.” He cocks a single eyebrow, challenging me.
“They’re away for the long weekend...and they’ve asked me to feed the cats.”
Achoo! I turn my head and sneeze. “I’m kind of allergic though.”
“Jackson? What’s going on? Who is she?” a brunette woman rounds the corner with a bed sheet draped across her body, jealousy mingled with desire ooze from her sultry tone.
Mark and Diana’s son looks over his shoulder and tells his lover to return to bed then focuses his attention on me. “You stay right here.” He points a long index finger. “Give me ten minutes to get her settled. We are not finished.”
Indignantly, I hiss, “Ten minutes? Is that all it takes these days, Jackson?”
The quick rising of Andrew’s sculpted chest reveals his exasperation, although he ignores my comment. “Stay right here.” Turning brusquely on his heels, I stare at his naked backside as he disappears down the hall and slams the door.
Rushing through the back entrance, I hustle across the yard and fumble with the keys to the pool house. Once inside, I turn the deadbolt lock and stand behind the long curtain as my breathing regulates. Time slips by while I watch and wait silently until a vehicle appears at the end of the driveway. A single light illuminates as Andrew ushers his lover inside the small sedan. Moments later, after scratching the back of his head and rubbing the nape of his neck, Andrew stands there in nothing but a pair of jeans. Looking around as if scanning the backyard, he walks back toward the house. Then stopping abruptly, he changes direction and heads straight for the pool house.
I gulp and remain frozen when Andrew steps onto the small landing. He turns the knob, finding the door locked, and I close my eyes and sigh in quiet relief. When I reopen my eyes, he is gone.
♦♦♦
The bright morning sun filters in through the huge bay window; its warmth on my face welcomes me to another day. Struggling to wake up, I gently glide my index fingers across my eyes, peeling away the crust as I groan and grumble until I am finally able to see. A fuzzy figure comes in to view.
“What the hell? What are you doing here?” I bellow, jumping back against the headboard. “Get out of my room!”
Looking at me with bright blue eyes, Andrew chuckles and sets the coffee mug with the logo I designed for his parents’ company on the armrest. He settles back in the oversized chair in the corner of my room, crossing his ankle over his knee.
“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up and explain why you were in my parents’ house last night and then to explain why there are moving boxes with your name in every room of the pool house.”
“I’m renting it so you have no right to be in here!” I want to slap the smirk off his freshly shaven face and pour the coffee he’s just sipped over his white Beatles T-shirt. “Get out!” I reach for a small taupe-colored decorative pillow and hurl it in his direction.
In one swift motion, he catches it single-handedly and tosses it back on the bed. “I have every right to be here. This is my parents’ home and I’m their son. And if my memory serves me correctly, this used to be my bedroom.”
I roll my eyes and suppress the memories he’s trying to evoke. “Yeah, some son you are,” I mumble. “You don’t even visit your parents, Ace.”
Andrew’s face hardens and he makes a tsking sound, shaking his head in disappointment. Serious eyes focus on me. “First of all, don’t ever fucking call me that again and secondly, what do you know about me?”
I know plenty about you I think to myself.
After glaring at him for several moments, I realize I must look like hell. I push the blanket off and rise to my feet, sway and reach for my pounding head.
I swear I’m going to kill Toni for letting me drink so much.
“Take a shower.”
“Take a hike!” I counter as I step in the small bathroom.
“I’ll be waiting for you at the main house. We’ll talk when you’re ready.”
Whipping my head back around, I snarl, “We have nothing to talk about. Here’s an idea for ya...how about you call your parents. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.”
“Morgan...that is your name, isn’t it?” he asks patronizingly. He knows damn well what my name is.
I reply silently with narrowed eyes.
“Please don’t act like you know anything about me or my relationship with my parents.”
I raise my chin defiantly.
“One would have to communicate to have a relationship and as far as I’m aware, you don’t talk to them. Your mother practically waits by the phone for your call!” I slam the door shut then reopen it. “You better be gone when I get
out or I’m calling the police.”
“That won’t do you any good,” he says confidently, finally standing up.
My traitorous eyes size him up, traveling from his face to his T-shirt, quickly bypassing his mid-section before settling on his bare feet. “Really? And why’s that?”
“The Chief’s son is one of my best friends. I was the best man at his wedding.”
“Figures,” I reply, closing the bathroom door.
Under the scalding hot water, I tilt my head back, close my eyes and wash my body quickly with vanilla bean scented shower gel, letting my fingers explore hidden places in remembrance of how he once made me feel. I wanted to forget everything that happened that day; little did I know I would never forget anything about what happened that night.
I remember the way he spoke to me as if no one else existed. I remember the forceful feel of his lips when he smashed them against mine. I remember the feel of his warm tongue plunging into my mouth. I remember his hissed words about wanting me and needing to fuck me. I remember the dominance he displayed when he restrained my wrists above my head. I remember his scent on my skin when he lay above me thrusting deeply into my core. I remember the way his body pleasured mine. I remember crying out his name when an orgasm ripped through me.
But most of all, I remember the weightlessness and immediate absence of his body when he rolled over and left without a single word.
I had no idea who Andrew Jackson Darling was, and I certainly didn’t have any plans to end up in his bed.
And despite the woman he fucked last night appearing in my mind, I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have him again.
♦♦♦
After dressing quickly and downing a cup of coffee, the task of unpacking is my number one priority. Six boxes later when my stomach growls, I freeze then dash to the main house, realizing I never fed the cats left in my care. I open the unlocked door and enter through the kitchen. Hoping to get in quickly, feed the cats and leave without disrupting the prodigal son, I work quietly at the kitchen counter, opening a can of wet cat food.
“I already fed them,” Andrew says, startling me.
I jump, drop the can opener onto the floor and clutch my chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Sorry,” he chuckles as he enters the room. I bend to retrieve the kitchen utensil at the same time he does. With each of us holding a handle, I stand my ground, refusing to concede. “I’ve got it.”
He releases the tool with a smirk. “Poor things would’ve starved by the time you got up here.”
I put the can of food in the SubZero refrigerator and turn to face Andrew.
“Why are you even here? If you had called, you would’ve known your parents were going to be away.”
“For your information, I did call.”
Before I can stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth, I remark sarcastically, “Guess the surprise is on you, Ace.”
Andrew leans against the cabinet, crosses his arms over his chest and exhales sharply.
Reaching for the dishrag, I wipe the obsidian granite slab and ignore the temptation to look at his biceps.
I’m a sucker for nice biceps.
“Excuse me,” I say when he doesn’t move, obstructing my ability to finish cleaning the countertop.
“You didn’t use this area.”
“I like to do a thorough job,” I reply dryly.
He bends his arms and propels himself forward, grazing my arm with his.
“So, tell me again who you are. Obviously my parents trust you to give you full access to their home.”
“I told you who I am. I work for Mark and Diana.” I’m not just the random girl you slept with one night six years ago, I want to remind him.
“So you’re the Morgan they’ve mentioned?” He hums in disbelief.
“What?”
“I assumed you were a guy. I’ve heard about you...or at least your work.”
“Sexist much? Must be tough being a jet-setting playboy who sprained his ankle earlier this year.”
Raising his eyebrows, he lifts his left leg, rotates his ankle and waits for me to continue.
“Your name gets tossed around the water cooler at work every now and then.” My smirk transforms into a tight smile. “I almost feel like I know you.”
After regarding my comment for a moment, Andrew sighs. “So you’re a graphic designer?”
“Yes, but I was recently promoted to senior advertising strategist at D.A.D.”
“DAD? Is that what he’s calling it these days?” Andrew chides. “Not very creative for an ad agency.”
“Designs and Advertising by Darling is a mouthful, don’t you think?” I quip.
A wave of embarrassment washes over me when I look at the bulge in his jeans and remember having a mouthful of him.
“Senior strategist and you’re renting the pool house? What gives?” he asks, moving around to the other side when my cleaning journey travels in his direction.
“It’s a long story,” I sigh. “But it’s only temporary so if you’re, you know, moving back, you can have it.”
“Moving back? Why in the hell would I ever do that?” Scorn and derision taint his otherwise sexy voice.
I shrug my shoulders and state the obvious. “Ummm...your family is here.”
“No thanks! I’m fine where I am. The farther west the better.”
I tilt my head back and sneeze just as Romeo, the black cat, tiptoes into the room.
Andrew bends down, scoops him up and rubs the tender spot behind his ear. “Does that feel good?” he asks with a goofy voice. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?”
With a snarled lip and curiosity, I watch the interaction between man and feline.
“I’m more of a dog lover, but I like pussy too.”
My cheeks flame red. “That’s...” Achoo! “nice.”
“Allergic?”
I turn watery eyes on him. “What do you think, Einstein?”
“I think you should go before you have an allergic reaction, pass out, and give me no choice but to perform CPR with full on mouth to mouth.”
Smiling at his attempted humor at my expense, I walk to the door before I turn and thank him.
“Call your mom. She’d be happy to hear from you.”
Andrew chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m all set. They’re going for a horseback ride and then taking a helicopter ride at sunset.”
It’s my turn to shake my head. “Your parents are so adventurous even with her limitations. I hope when I’m their age, I can jet off to the Caribbean every few weeks. They usually come back looking relaxed and refreshed, ready to face the world.”
A tight smile appears. “Carpe diem, baby,” Andrew states then winks, repeating. “Carpe diem.”
Like father like son.
♦♦♦
“Hey! You okay?” Andrew’s voice and gentle rub to my shoulder interrupts a very interesting dream.
I sit up quickly on the couch, search around the living room to gather my wits and scrub my hands over my face. I yawn loudly then stand and stretch. Suddenly it occurs to me that he has once again invaded my privacy, and I immediately ask what he’s doing in my house and why he’s eating a slice of my left over pepperoni pizza.
“Technically, the place isn’t yours. You’re just renting.” He smiles, sitting on the arm of the sofa with a bottle of water in his hand as he takes the last bite of pizza. Wiping his hand across his lips, he removes any evidence of his thievery. Reaching for the half-eaten bag of peanut M&Ms, this entitled man pours a few into his cupped palm then tosses them into his mouth.
“Whateva,” I reply with a Valley girl sing song. “Seriously though, you can’t go around eating other people’s things and you have to stop letting yourself in.” I grab the small bag of candy and slip it into my back pocket.
The second the words leave my lips, our eyes meet and he cracks a small devious smile.
“Sorry, old habit. This was my place
so I’m comfortable here.” A quick shrug is offered by way of apology. “And for the record, I did knock, but you didn’t answer.”
Then something occurs to me. “If you’re so comfortable here, why didn’t you bring your bodacious babe back here last night?”
“Because I’d heard it had been rented out and I’m not in college anymore,” he replies dryly. “Sorry you walked in on that. I was under the impression no one would be at the main house.” I get the feeling there’s more to his answer, but he changes the subject. “What are you doing for Labor Day? Got plans with your boyfriend?”
Internally, I smile, but outwardly, I grimace. “Nice try, mister. Why would you care about what I’m doing? I’m sure your date wouldn’t mind keeping you company again.”
“I’m not interested in seeing her again.”
His honesty surprises me.
“Then why’d—”
Andrew raises the bottle to his lips and sips. “By the end of the night, we both got what we wanted from each other.”
I close my eyes, remembering the scene at the restaurant then shiver with desire.
“Cold?” he asks, staring at me darkly.
I reopen my eyes and chuckle quietly. “No.”
“A friend of mine is having a party down at Rye Point tonight. Interested in going?”
My head snaps up. “With you?” I proceed with caution, gauging for any sign of deception or mockery, but find none when he responds.
“Sure, why not? Food, drinks and fireworks. How bad can it be?”
“Maybe.” I shrug.
After my return from the bathroom, I sit down, gather my hair and twist it into a bun. I pull my legs inwardly to sit cross-legged and ask, “Can I bring a couple of friends?”
Andrew smiles and it reminds me of the big bad wolf. “That depends. Guys or girls?”