by Tiffani Lynn
If she tries to leave, I’m probably going to tie her to the bed. I’m not even close to done with her for the night. Her body is now pressed against the mirror, probably due to my weight leaning against her. “Stay with me the rest of the night?” I ask as I softly run my hands down the length of her body and kiss her neck again.
“Yes,” she breathes softly.
I step away and lead her to the bed, where I pull the covers back. “Hold tight, I’ll get something to clean you up and get rid of this condom.” She nods a little.
I return from the bathroom with a washcloth and gently wipe between her legs before I guide her onto the bed and start over, a little slower, making sure I savor everything about her from head to toe until we both pass out from sated exhaustion.
At five a.m., like clockwork, my eyes open, even after only two hours of sleep and without an alarm clock. Twenty years of Army regimen are now ingrained in me and will probably remain with me until my dying day. It takes me a second to get my bearings and realize that the sexy woman I feel asleep next to is no longer in the bed. I throw the covers back, stand and stretch, then I tug on the shorts I was wearing last night, sans boxer briefs, and head for the bathroom, hoping she’s in there. The room is quiet so I have a sneaking suspicion that she’s not. I knock lightly and push the door all the way open. Dark and empty. I flip on the light by the sink and glance around the room. Damn it! All of her clothes are gone. Of course, I’m the idiot who didn’t get her phone number. Even worse, I didn’t get her name. That’s a first for me. We went from 0 to 60 in three minutes flat and then spent the rest of the night burning up the sheets.
I’ve had bad sex, I’ve had good sex and I’ve also had great sex, but I’ve never had mind-blowing, heart-imploding, world-melting sex like that. The definition of perfect sexual chemistry is exactly what I encountered last night with the beauty from the bar. That woman blew my mind and it wasn’t because she did some crazy tricks with her mouth or body that I’ve never experienced. It was more like there was a warmth, a spark and a ton of emotion between us that could only be found with the other. I can’t even explain it, it’s so freaking bizarre and now she’s gone without a way for me to track her down.
Later that day I’m sitting on the back porch at my brother, Mike, and sister-in-law, Summer’s house with a Coke in hand, watching a black waterbird of some sort dive deep and pop back up randomly. The sound of the door opening, followed by Scooter’s basset hound paws and Summer’s voice, cuts through the quiet of the afternoon.
“Mike will be here soon. He had to stop at the grocery store.”
“That’s fine, it will give us some time to catch up,” I say as I smile up at her.
Summer rubs her rounded belly over her cotton dress tenderly. “Nothing to catch up on here with me, except that I keep getting bigger and bigger.”
“You’re barely showing. If you were big, I wouldn’t be accompanying you to Key West to finish shooting your movie.”
“I just feel huge. I know the editing department can fix a lot since the weight isn’t in my face, but I’m officially wearing maternity clothes. Let’s not talk about me getting fat. Tell me about you. Where are you going to settle down now that you’re free and clear of the Army and going to work for Mike?”
“Probably Tampa. Close to the beach, close to Mom and Dad, only an hour from you and Mike, and near the airport when I want to travel. Mike said he didn’t need me to live here in Crystal River if I didn’t want to, and to be honest, I still like having access to all Tampa has to offer. I’ve been house and apartment hunting but haven’t yet found what I’m looking for.”
“Probably because you haven’t found who you want to share it with,” she quips.
I glance over to find her smiling wickedly at me. “My friend Simone would be perfect for you. She’s smart, beautiful and adventurous. You’ll love her son too; he’s a great kid.”
“You know I don’t need help meeting women.” I grin at her, thinking of the one I met last night.
Summer stands and flips a switch to turn on the ceiling fan and sits back down, giggling a little at my response. “Yeah, but the ones you bring home aren’t long-term material. No offense, but they’re usually dimwitted, jealous, and/or whorish women. Not good for long-term relationships, nor are they anyone you really want to introduce to your mom, your sister or your grandmother.” She reaches over and grabs my hand excitedly. “Come on! Let me set you up with Simone. You won’t be sorry.”
“Blind dates are a bad idea. Everyone knows they don’t work out and it usually ends up embarrassing the people who set them up in the first place.”
Her pretty puppy dog eyes are in full effect as she works to get her way. I’ve always had a hard time saying no to her. “I already know you guys are perfect for each other, so there won’t be anything to be embarrassed about. It’s going to work out great and you’ll wonder why I didn’t do this sooner.” Her smile is bright and knowing. She’s pretty certain this will be perfect.
“If it means that much to you, I’ll go out with her, but don’t get your hopes up. Blind dates don’t rate high in my book, nor do I know anyone who has had success with them. But for you I’ll try.” It’s true, for my sister-in-law I’d do almost anything, even if my basic instinct says don’t go there.
3
Simone
Sprawled on my couch in the small living room of my two-bedroom apartment, I’m the poster girl for sloth. I haven’t gotten out of my pajamas since I came back home from my one-night stand and quick trip to Miami a couple of days ago. Gavin, my eight-year-old son, is at his dad’s house. Yes, I said house. He has a five-bedroom mini-mansion on an inlet off of Tampa Bay while I still live in the same apartment that I was in after he and I split up. Sure, the complex has a workout room and a community pool, but Gavin’s dad’s house has a boat, two Jet Skis, and an in-ground infinity pool. If Gavin didn’t love all of that so much, I wouldn’t be so bitter about it because I’m doing just fine without it. I try to think of Gerald—my ex—as little as possible, but when you share a child, you’re never really free and clear of your ex.
I haven’t been able to write a single word in a couple of weeks and the stress is killing me. I’m practically eating my feelings, the Hershey’s Kisses wrappers piled like a mini Mount Everest on the coffee table in front of me are proof of my deteriorating emotional state. The one-night stand I had with the smoking-hot guy at the hotel was amazing for stress release and for my self-esteem, but horrible for my guilt factor. I’ve never in my life had a one-night stand and for the first two days I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror without feeling like crap. I’ve always been the kind of woman who is in a committed relationship before I sleep with someone. It’s hard to believe, considering I write romance novels about hot hookups all the time, but it’s true. I’m a bit of a prude when it comes to sleeping around. This time, though, I not only wasn’t in a relationship with the guy, I didn’t even get his name. How does that happen? How do I go from good girl to complete slut in less than five minutes? The man was, of course, the kind of sexy that women don’t walk away from, and for the first time in my life I reacted without a second thought to the consequences. It was like his eyes hypnotized me and I was acting beyond my control. One minute I’m trying to get away from a carbon copy of my ex-husband and the next I’m having wild monkey sex against a mirror with the hottest man I’ve probably ever laid eyes on.
In fact, I didn’t think twice about it until I woke up draped all over the guy like a human blanket, with several spent condoms in the trash nearby and a body full of aching muscles. Then I was so embarrassed that I rolled off of him as carefully as I could so I wouldn’t wake him and snuck out. There was no way I was waiting for him to wake up and throw me out or think of a lame excuse to get rid of me. I was trembling so bad I was afraid I would fall over and wake him up as I slid my panties back up my legs.
You would think after a night like that I would be able to write the hell o
ut of some romance, especially the steamy stuff, but the embarrassment runs so deep that I can’t seem to get past it. I think it’s also the loss of hope. Once you’ve spent the night with a man like that, no other will ever compare. I won’t be able to find the man of my dreams now because I know I already met him and he probably thinks I’m a major slut. Luckily for me, he had a suitcase in the room so I’m certain he doesn’t live nearby. It was probably his one and only time in Tampa.
The only reason I was staying at that hotel was because my flight left at six a.m. and I needed to be at the airport at four thirty. I’m notorious for running late and didn’t want to miss that flight. I knew that if I stayed in the hotel, I wouldn’t sleep well enough to oversleep and be late.
I run my palms over my face and stare up at the ceiling and sigh. I have a book release coming up and that always brings more sleepless nights than it should, so that’s not helping my fatigue either.
The phone rings, temporarily halting my little pity party. I lean over to the coffee table and snatch it up, knocking the pile of Hershey’s wrappers all over the floor. Great.
My caller ID indicates that it’s one of my best friends Summer Wade, who is the cover model for my first best-selling book, on the other end of the line. I rarely get to talk to her so I know I need to pick it up, even if I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone.
“Hey, Summer!” I chirp, hoping the false enthusiasm will keep her from asking too many questions. She’s the kind of friend that will know something’s wrong and drive the hour and fifteen minutes to my house, help me clean up the place and kick my ass for being a sloth.
“Simone! You’re not going to believe this! Thomas is back,” she shares on an excited giggle. She doesn’t even start with pleasantries.
“Thomas?” I have no idea who she’s talking about.
“Mike’s brother, you ding-dong! You asked Mike when you met him if he has any brothers. Don’t you remember?” She doesn’t give me a chance to respond, she just motors on. “Well, he does and Thomas is single, out of the Army and working for Mike! Isn’t this so exciting!” I can picture her now, practically vibrating with excitement that she gets to hook me up with someone. Ever since she and Mike got married she’s made it her mission to find someone for me. I appreciate her enthusiasm and care, but I have no interest in going on a date with her brother-in-law.
“That’s great, but I was only kidding. That was my way of admiring how good-looking your man is without straight up drooling all over him. You don’t need to set me up. I’m good, everything is good. I don’t want you to lose your credibility by trying to hook him up with me.”
“Lose my credibility? What are you talking about? You are sexy, smart, talented, creative and fun. Any man would be lucky to be with you. Where’s this coming from? Do I need to drive down there and slap some sense into you?”
“You need to worry about staying healthy for the baby and keeping that man of yours safe. Don’t worry about me.”
“Is Gerald giving you shit again? He always messes with your mind. I have no idea how he got you in the first place. He’s such a smacked ass.”
“Yeah, but it’s nothing new. I’ve taken to ignoring him.”
“Well if you aren’t going to tell me what’s wrong, then I’m going to assume nothing is wrong and give Thomas your number. Make sure you answer when he calls. Go out with the guy, no excuses, or I’ll be mad!”
With a big exhale I reluctantly respond, “Okay, fine, I’ll pick up if he calls,” knowing he probably won’t call because I’m sure he feels like most of the single adult population about blind dates. They’re shitty.
“Yay!” she practically screeches in my ear. “Listen, I have to pack for my reshoot in Key West. We are finally finishing up Shadow Key and I need to do my part before I get any bigger.”
“Is Mike going with you? After your last stalker scenario, I’m nervous for you.”
“No, Thomas, is going with me. Mike is working with some new clients, which is the other reason I need to get off the phone—so I can spend some time with him too.”
“You’ll do great. Love you, girl. See you soon.”
We end the call and I think of my beautiful, funny friend and how happy I am for her.
Ever since I put her on the cover of my book, her life has been smooth sailing, despite the incident with the stalker. Her acting and modeling career took off shortly thereafter. She married the love of her life, and it’s all because of that cover. Which is only one of the reasons why I feel like that book is my best accomplishment to date, outside of the birth of Gavin. I’d like to be able to recreate that magic with another book, but that won’t happen if I can’t continue to write the words. The book I’m about to release is good, but it’s missing the magic of my first best seller. It would be super helpful if the Word Fairy would come down and whack me on the ass with her magic wand.
I focus my attention on the television and try to figure out what show is currently playing. Dwelling on my lack of motivation is going to have to wait until tomorrow since I don’t have the oomph to get it going tonight.
An hour later I’m immersed in some crazy reality show where a family raises skunks for a living when my phone rings. The caller ID indicates that it’s Gerald, Gavin’s father. I consider ignoring it because I can’t stand to talk to him, but my fear that something has happened to Gavin has me picking up the phone anyway.
“Hello, Gerald.”
“Hey, Simone. You have a minute?” The tone of his voice is a little higher than usual and more energetic. Fake friendly. I coined that term when Gav was three years old because Gerald can turn from that to a viper in the matter of a few words if he doesn’t get his way.
“Yeah, sure. What’s going on? Is Gavin okay?”
“Oh yeah, yeah. He’s great, just super. Listen, I’m calling because I know it’s the beginning of release week for you tomorrow and I thought I’d help out by keeping Gavin a couple extra days.”
My shoulders tense. “What? I usually get everything done while he’s at school so I can spend the evening with him,” I explain unnecessarily. Moving into a sitting position, I no longer feel like Eeyore. Anger seeps in. Of course he’s going to use my release week mania to his advantage.
“I’m not saying you don’t spend time with him, just that it might be easier for you if you had a few more hours in the day to work.”
“What’s this really about? We both know you’ve never offered this before and I’ve released 12 books now.”
His sigh filters through the phone. “Jennifer got great seats to the hockey game on Tuesday and we won’t get home until late as it is, so I just thought it would be better if he stayed with us until Wednesday. It’s no big deal. It's a win-win, considering it’s release week for you.”
“But that means I won’t see my son for 10 days. I’ve never gone that long before.”
“Simone, don’t be overly dramatic. He’ll be back with you Wednesday right after school. It’s a cool experience for him. You don’t want to be so selfish that he’ll miss out on this kind of thing, do you?”
There it goes, the guilt trip. My ex is such a jerk. He knows I don’t want Gavin to miss out on anything, which is why I allowed the one week on and one week off custody situation when Gavin was little. Before that, it was the nights during the week that I worked as a waitress on the late shift and every other weekend.
“That’s not fair, Gerald. You know I don’t want him to miss anything, but I also miss him when he’s gone.”
“I know. We won’t make it a habit, but these are great seats and he really wants to go.”
“You already told him about it?” So now if I say no it will crush him and it will be obvious he missed this because of me.
“Well, yeah. I was excited when we got the tickets.” His condescending tone is almost too much for me.
“So now I’m the bad guy if I say no to this. That’s an asshole move, Gerald.”
“It won’t be if yo
u just say yes and get over it.” Visions of hitting him upside the head with a baseball bat run through my head like a film reel.
“Fine, he can stay. I get him back on Wednesday no matter what’s going on. And no more dirty shit like this. You don’t mention possible changes in schedule with Gavin until you clear them with me. You put me in a bad position.”
“Fine. Thanks. I’ve got to go. Jennifer needs me to carve the roast.” He knew he would win this battle. If I did that to him in return, he would lose his shit. The only difference is I don’t have anything cool to do that with. I’m a loving mother and can be a fun mother, but all the famous people I know are authors, with the exception of Summer. To a young boy, that’s not interesting or cool enough to change plans with his dad.
I sigh. “Bye, Gerald.” With no goodbye from him, only dead air in my ear, I hit end and set the phone on my coffee table. As mad as I am, I’m also sad. I live for the moments when Gavin’s voice and laughter fill this little apartment, and three more days without him are pure torture, especially considering my blah state of mind.
As I’m grumbling to myself, wishing all kinds of horrible things on Gerald, my phone rings again. This time it’s a number I don’t recognize. Most of the time I let those numbers go to voicemail but tonight I’m in the mood to take down an unwanted sales call. I need to get my aggression out somehow.
“Hello?” My voice is a little sharper than normal, almost harsh.