by S. J. McGran
But, I can’t have Rico Jones. Maybe not ever, but definitely not just yet.
Turning in the man’s arms I try to find what I’ve been missing in this stranger. Instead, I meet bright blue eyes and blonde hair. It’s true the man currently moving against me is handsome, but he’s just not the kind of handsome I’m craving.
Flashing him a polite smile I extract myself from his hold and make my way off the dance floor. Catching Roxy’s eyes at the bar I give her the signal that I’m headed out, I know by the three men hanging onto her every word that she’s not going anywhere.
Which, is okay by me. I need a little privacy.
I need to go home and do the one thing I promised myself months ago I wouldn’t do again. I need to ease this aching need Rico Jones has stirred inside of me.
Chapter Thirteen
Riley
January 2014, Session Thirteen
I came to the conclusion that I’m not going to be able to fight Rico off forever. But, I do have to find the strength to push him away a little longer. I need more time as his therapist. I need to help him get to the very roots of his problems. Then I’ll make my move… or I’ll just give in to his moves.
But, holy shit is it hard to wait.
Closing my notebook I stand from one of the chairs in the lounge area. “I think that’s all for today.” Making my way to the wall that houses my CD player and CDs I start taking out the Journey album we were listening to.
I feel Rico walk up behind me and instantly my spine straightens, my muscles tightening. My breathing comes just a little faster, a little more erratically.
“Go out with me, Riley.” His voice is—as always—low, raspy, and dangerously sexy. I’m thankful for the thick sweater I’m wearing because it hides the goose bumps that travel down my arms and back when his warm breath grazes the back of my neck.
With one word I let him know everything I can’t say. The tone of my voice as I whisper his name is all that’s needed. I couldn’t hide the frustration, the disappointment even if I tried.
“I know, Kit. But, someday you’ll say yes.” With that he walks away and I don’t breathe again until I hear the door shut behind him.
Jesus.
Someday might not be too long from now if he keeps this up.
Chapter Fourteen
Riley
March 2014, Session Sixteen
“So, St. Paddy’s day is coming up. You have any plans?” I just look at Rico incredulously at his question. I have to give it to him, he’s persistent at the very least. At my look he just starts laughing, “Oh. Don’t worry I wasn’t asking you out. I was just trying to picture you at the bar with your ‘Kiss Me I’m Irish’ shirt on, chugging Guinness and doing car bombs.”
I laugh right along with him at the image he painted. It’s scary how well he’s gotten to know me already. “Yeah, no that’s not exactly my scene. I don’t typically do much for that particular holiday. What about you?” I ask a little leery of his response. The holiday is a party holiday, one I’m hoping Rico is not taking part in. “Do you have any plans?”
He looks me right in the eye, that damn smirk playing on his full lips. “Actually, yeah. I have a date.” His coffee eyes bore into me, waiting for my response. He’s trying to read me. Trying to gauge how I feel about him going out.
Tamping down everything I really want to feel—jealousy, anger, disappointment—I plaster on a smile and pretend I’m happy for him. “That’s great, I’m happy for you.”
His eyes squint at me, his lips twitching to hide his smile. He can read me so well. He knows I’m lying, he probably knows I’m jealous, too, but I have no other choice. I can’t say yes to him—I won’t say yes to him—so it’s great that someone has.
Pushing from his seat he stands up, hovering over my desk. Dropping his voice to that low, bedroom voice he likes to use with me so much he hits me where it hurts. “Unless, of course, you were planning on saying yes today?” He quirks one eyebrow up at me and waits patiently for my answer.
I want to scream YES! I’ll go out with you! But, I don’t. I can’t.
When I don’t respond, he lets out a light chuckle. “Yeah, didn’t think so. See you next week, Kit.”
Before he’s even all the way out of my office I slam my forehead to my desk and let out a growl of frustration. I hear him chuckle at my expense before the door closes behind him.
“Damn it,” I whisper yell to myself.
I continue beating my head against my desk for a few seconds, a war waging in my heart. Roxy’s voice keeps echoing in my mind telling me to go after what I want. Telling me that life is short and that I deserve happiness. That I deserve to feel again.
Before I can think anything of it, I push up from my chair and practically run out of my office. The hallway is completely empty—Rico and I usually have his sessions later in the evening because of his work schedule and, therefore, tend to be one of the few in the building.
At this very moment, I’m thankful for it.
Power walking down the hall I skid to a stop as I round the corner to the elevators. Rico is standing there with his back to me, his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his dirty work jeans. And for just a moment I take the time to admire him—and to build up the courage to do what I’m about to do.
On a long inhale I move in his direction. Reaching my hand out I tap him on his shoulder, quickly dropping it back to my side once I’ve gained his attention. My breath catches when he turns to me and pins me with an expectant stare. Pushing my shoulders back, I find courage and strength and tell myself if he says no I can fall apart about it later. A little rejection never killed anyone, right?
“Um, I was thinking. I know you said you have a date for St. Paddy’s day, but…”
His lifts his arm and trails a feather-light touch down my arm stopping only when my wrist is trapped in his large palm. That damn cocky smirk is back on his face, and I know he is feeling just how rapid my pulse is. I want to sink into the floor from the embarrassment. What the hell was I thinking?
“I don’t actually have a date. I was just hoping I could use jealousy to get you to finally say yes to me.” He pauses and steps a little closer to me. I close my eyes as his body heat surrounds me, and I send up a silent prayer no one sees us. This is definitely crossing the line. “So tell me, Kit. Did it work?”
Words evade me. I’ve said it once before and I’ll say it again—this man’s sex appeal should be illegal. He wields that thing like a weapon, using it to torture powerless women like me. Using it to get what he wants. When he wants it. And, I’ll be damned if I can find the will to say no.
But, I refuse to be a doormat. I refuse to let him think he owns me. Has power over me. Stepping back I give myself room to breathe again. “You know, Rico, there is a very thin line between confidence and cockiness. You’re teetering on it pretty precariously there.” With that, I turn on my heel and head back to my office.
So much for taking a chance today.
I’ll never let a man own me again. For too many years, I came in second to a man’s desires, his power trips, his ego. I might have thought the dark, dangerous, carefree Rico Jones is what I wanted but apparently I’m better off staying with safe, boring, predictable. At least with those types I don’t have to deal with overinflated egos that think they can momentarily make me jealous and get everything they’ve ever wanted.
Stepping into my office I push the door shut behind me, only to hear a thump and to see the door fly back open. Nearly jumping out of my skin I flip around coming face-to-face with the man that has me all twisted in knots. He looks like he can’t decide if he’s pissed or embarrassed, though I’m leaning more towards the latter.
Closing the door behind him, he creeps up on me until he’s once again invading my personal space. “Listen, I’m sorry about that. My looks are the only thing I’ve ever had to lean on for most of my life. I’ve used them to get what I want, used them to get away with things I probably wouldn’t hav
e otherwise.” He pauses his speech to reach his hand up and cup my cheek and once again I find myself short of breath. “I should have known better than to treat you like that. I’m sorry.”
Even once he’s finished his apology he keeps his warm hand on my skin, his thumb brushing across my cheek gently. I battle with myself as I try to decide the best way to approach this. I knew this about Rico already, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t disappoint me to watch him act that way.
“Rico, you have to know you are so much more than just good looking. You have to know you have more to offer.”
He takes another step closer, his hand falling back into my hair and tangling with it. “What do I have to offer a girl like you, Riley?”
“Everything,” I whisper back. If only he knew how badly I want him. Do I want him because he’s insanely sexy? Of course. But, I want him for the strength he shows me every day, I want him for the goodness he harbors inside. I want him. Period.
He closes his eyes and drops his forehead to mine. My breath comes out raggedly at the intimacy, at the closeness. “Ask me what you were going to in the hallway. Please.”
I don’t even hesitate. “Come over on St. Paddy’s day,” I spit out quickly, on one single breath of air. Holding the little left in my lungs I wait impatiently for his answer. Thankfully he doesn’t make me wait too long.
“Yes.” He holds me for a second longer and then pushes me away from him.
I stand stock still in the middle of my office as I watch him turn and leave. I have to wonder at the quick escape, but I don’t let myself think about it too long.
Rico Jones and I have a date. Sort of.
I think.
Holy fuck, what the hell did I just do?
Chapter Fifteen
Riley
March 2014, St. Paddy’s Day
Glancing at the clock for the tenth time in the last twenty minutes I let out a groan. Picking up my glass of wine I bring it to my lips praying the butterflies in my belly pass out when the alcohol reaches them. My nerves keep ramping up each time the clock ticks.
Rico will be here any minute and I’m not sure I’m ready for this.
For the last few days, I’ve asked myself over and over why I thought this was a good idea. I’m nowhere near ready to face Rico. I’m not strong enough to turn him down if he makes a move. More than that I’m almost desperate for him to make a move that is impossible for me to walk away from. I’m ready to end this charade. But, I’m too cowardice to actually take that next step.
For months now I’ve been dreaming and fantasizing about the way his full lips would feel covering mine. The way his hard body would feel pressed against mine. I know my fantasies do the man no justice when I imagine him breathing dirty words into my ear as he thrusts his strong hips into me over and over.
God, the man practically screams sex when he’s just standing there. I can’t even begin to dream about how good he’d actually be in a bed. Or against a wall. Or in a car.
Fuck.
Taking another sip of wine I let my mind wander for a just a few more seconds. The pounding at the door breaks me out of my thoughts, causing me to jump like I’ve been caught doing something I’m not supposed to. Which, I suppose I have.
My wine glass slips out of my hand at the jolt and shatters all over the kitchen tile. “Shit!” Grabbing a few paper towels, I slide to my knees to clean up the mess quickly. Before I can stand up, I hear the door open and Rico’s deep voice lets out a low explicative.
Turning to look over my shoulder at him I find him standing in the entryway, his eyes trained on my ass. It’s at that moment that I realize I’m on my kitchen floor on all fours, my skinny jeans giving him an eyeful.
My cheeks immediately heat at being caught in such a vulnerable position. Rico clears his throat and slowly drags his eyes up to mine. I almost smirk at his use of my own nervous habit. “Um, sorry. I heard the crash and then you yell so I let myself in.” He steps in my direction, careful to keep his eyes pinned on mine. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” Turning away I look back at my mess needing a moment to gather my composure. Rolling my eyes at my clumsiness I get back to carefully picking up the larger shards of glass.
Thick arms dart into my line of sight, gripping my wrist tightly Rico grabs the glass out of my hand and continues to pick up the rest of it. ‘Here, let me help you.”
I try to smile, but it comes out a little shaky. While he’s picking up the glass, I stand and move to grab the broom to clean up the rest. Thankfully the glass was relatively empty so there isn’t much wine to clean.
Once we’re all finished, I stand in the middle of the kitchen a little awkwardly. All I can think about is how desperately I could use that last sip or two of liquid courage at the moment. Rico walks to the sink to wash his hands, his eyes landing on the two open wine bottles sitting on the counter.
Picking up the empty one he lifts it in my direction, a playful grin gracing his face. “Should I be concerned here, doc?”
I let out a nervous laugh thankful for his ability to ease some of the awkwardness. “Ha. Ha. Roxy had some before she left to go out, I didn’t drink it all myself.” Although, I am well on my way to polishing off an entire bottle to myself.
He smiles at me before opening several cupboard doors, when he finally finds the one he’s looking for he grins victoriously. Grabbing a wine glass from the cupboard he reaches for the bottle and pours a healthy amount before handing it to me. I take it from him, eying him suspiciously. I might want the courage, but if I drink this glass I’ll go from buzzed and slightly nervous, too drunk and flirtatious quickly.
Narrowing my eyes at him I thank him warily.
He just shakes his head and leans against the counter, crossing his arms across his wide chest. Bringing the glass to my lips just to have something to do, I use the moment to admire him.
He’s wearing a gray and black button up that fits tightly across his shoulders, especially in his current stance. His dark jeans are snug, but not in the unmanly way so many guys our age are wearing them these days. His dark hair is messy, but stylishly so—if I had to guess I’d say he spent a great deal of time on it.
When I finally have the courage to, I bring my eyes back to his. Only to find his own warm gaze is trailing along my body unabashedly. I wanted to look nice for him, but I didn’t want it to seem too obvious. Plus, I couldn’t afford Roxy asking questions if she saw me before she left. I finally decided on black skinny jeans, a tight green sweater that cuts a little low in the front and black ballet flats. I curled my hair and then pulled the top half off my face, and as usual I kept my makeup pretty light.
Judging by the look on his face though, Rico appreciates what he sees.
Bringing his eyes back to mine, he smiles at me completely unashamed that I’ve caught him staring. When I raise an eyebrow at him, he simply shrugs.
“So, who’s Roxy?” He asks at the same time he brushes past me to head back to the entry way.
I spin in my spot but otherwise stay where I am. “She’s my roommate and my best friend.”
He comes back into the kitchen carrying two large brown bags. Raising them just slightly, he brings them into my view. “I brought dinner. Have you eaten, yet?” I just shake my head at him, slightly taken aback at his thoughtfulness. “Good. I picked up enough to feed an entire family.” I watch in stunned silence as he takes several take-out containers out of the bag. The smell of garlic and spices hits me.
“Mmm, it smells amazing. Italian is one of my favorites.” Finally snapping into gear I move around him in my kitchen to grab plates, silverware, and napkins. Together we work to get the spread set up on the dining room table, and my mouth starts salivating at all of the choices. He wasn’t kidding when he said he got enough to feed a family. There’s lasagna, cheese manicotti, spaghetti, salad, and breadsticks. My stomach rumbles at the sight of the slice of tiramisu.
Unable to choose just one I put a little of e
ach on my plate. Rico just laughs at me when the first bite hits my tongue and I let out a soft moan of appreciation.
I watch as he follows suit, filling his plate with a hearty sampling of each dish. And, when his own eyes close at the delicious food it’s my turn to laugh. “Right? So freaking good!”
For the rest of the meal we’re relatively quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. We both enjoy our meals, filling in some of the silence with random questions about our days, about our plans for the impending weekend. It’s very… normal.
I’m not delusional, but I can imagine a relationship with Rico. I can visualize nights spent chatting about everything and yet nothing at all. Shared meals spent in companionable silence.
When Rico reaches over and feeds me a bite of the tiramisu and his eyes flash to my mouth as it closes around the spoon all thoughts of a sweet, romantic relationship with this man go right out the window. His eyes are full of heat and desire, and I know a relationship with him would be full of passion—it would be hot and addictive.
A quiet humming sound vibrates the back of my throat and I’m not quite sure if it’s from the cake, or from the dirty thoughts I seem to be having trouble erasing from my mind.
Rico’s head tips back slightly and his eyes close as a pained look crosses his face. Before I can decipher it, he drops the spoon onto the plate with a clank and stands from his chair quickly. Avoiding eye contact with me, he starts cleaning up our mess, pushing the cake in front of my face he clears everything else from the table
“I can get those, Rico.” But, when I start to stand from my chair he puts up his hand to stop.
“Nope. I’ll take care of it.” With a flash of a smile, he disappears from my sight.