by Robin Leaf
I raise my eyebrows hopefully. He closes his eyes, sighs, and nods.
“Oooh, is he a doctor? Do you have a doctor boyfriend?” she almost squeals, almost because it’s not ladylike to squeal, but I know she wanted to.
“No, Mom. He’s… just a friend.”
“A whole hospital full of doctors and you can’t even snag one of them?” I think I detect sarcasm, but with Mom, it’s hard to tell. “Maybe then you could quit your job so you don’t have to work so hard and you could visit your mother more often.”
“Mom, I like my job. I’m good at it, so no way am I quitting.”
“But Ember, what if your man insisted?”
“Then he wouldn’t be my man.”
“Well,” Mom giggles, and I know she did all that to push my buttons, “I would expect no less from you, but remember, the last guy you brought home and said was ‘just a friend’ didn’t work out so well, now did it?”
Douglass narrows his eyes more and flares his nostrils, zapping me right in the sulky spot. I’m sure what she said would normally make me mad, but I’m distracted by the angry face of the man currently breathing heavily on me. The elevator dings its arrival, and he steps on.
“Yeah, okay, well, I’m getting on an elevator, Mom.” I follow the huffing beast. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Love ya, bye.”
I hear her try to stop me with words before I push the red button, ending the call, and step closer to my bodyguard, the man who refuses to look at me. I feel the corners of my lips turn up as I run my hand up his arm to his elbow.
“Why do you look angry?”
When the doors close, he backs me against the panel next to the doors, placing his hand under my chin. “I don’t like the way you were just treated.”
Bam. Lightning strikes again, but this time, I don’t think it’s only his touch; I think it’s also from his protective words. I find it hard to catch my breath, but I can’t stop looking into the greenish-blue depths of his angry glare. Although, the anger has cooled a little, possibly mixed with a little of the lust I, too, feel.
His hand makes it to my neck, cupping it tenderly, where he runs his thumb back and forth along my jaw. Certainly he must feel my racing, throbbing pulse beneath his palm. He leans in, brushing his lips against my cheek.
“I also don’t want to be just your friend, Ember.”
I startle when I hear someone’s moan. No wait, that was me. We’re still all alone in this elevator. Alrighty, then, carry on, sexy talker.
My hips move forward slightly, seeking friction against his massive thigh, the one that happens to have slipped between my thighs. “Please,” I hear whispered.
Damn, who was that? Again, it’s me, apparently letting my naughty bits do the talking.
“Patience, Blue. I’ll be inside you, soon, and I don’t plan to be anywhere else for a while,” he whispers, pushing away from me as the doors to the elevator open on a different floor.
Damn, I never felt it moving, or it got lost in the raging lusty bonfire that he just sparked.
God, what an asshole.
I stand against the wall for a second, trying to catch my breath while the asshole in question holds the door for me.
“You comin’?” he asks, smiling evilly at his double entendre.
“No,” I grunt, pushing off the wall. “You gotta stop doing that.” When I walk past him, I utter lowly. “You’re making my vagina very angry.”
“I’ve heard that the angry ones are pretty… gripping,” he teases from behind me.
“Keep talking, and maybe you’ll find out.” I turn around to face him, because honestly, I have no clue where I’m going. “Or maybe you won’t,” placing my hands on my hips, I add, “like ever.”
He moseys toward me slowly, smirking. “I bet I could right now, with pretty enthusiastic participation.”
God, one half of me wants to climb him and head-butt the smirk off his face. Let’s face it, I can totally do better than the last time I tried that particular maneuver. The other half of me wants to tackle him and kiss it off. I’m torn, as both are viable options.
“Don’t make me ask if you’re coming again,” he snarks.
“Fuck you,” I say weakly.
“I’d very much like to,” he opens a door to the left of us, motioning for me to go through it, “so let’s get this meeting over with and try to catch this guy so I can.”
Twenty
Dugger
Ember saunters past me, entering the training room and taking two steps in before looking around. There’s tons of gym equipment off to our right, but the mats where Joe and Bryan taught me takedown procedures have been moved out of the way.
Noah is standing at the edge of the cleared space, holding a towel around his neck, watching a woman who’s watching a couple dance to “The Way I Do” by Bishop Briggs. I know the song because it was on Kaelyn’s playlist a month ago. Yes, I follow her on social media, but only because she has great taste in music. Well there’s that, and apparently, I need to make sure she stays happy. Plus, she does the social media marketing for the tattoo shop.
“No, no, no, no, no,” the angry Latina woman Noah is watching screams over the song. “Santa mierda, what the hell was that?”
“I told you I can’t do this ballet shit,” the male dancer complains. “I’m not trained.”
She stops the music and stomps up angrily to the couple, getting in the male’s face. “This isn’t ballet shit, pinche dumbass,” she begins, speaking so quickly, I can barely make out the rest of what she’s saying, something about his alignment and form. It’s funny to watch a six-foot tall, harsh-looking dude cower to a woman barely taller than my girl.
Yes, I said my girl.
Emily was right last night. This sassy, sexy, beautiful woman standing next to me will very much be mine.
No, I’m not one of those cavemen, possessive types. I don’t mean I want to own her in any way. I don’t want to knock her over the head and drag her back to my cave. But I do want her to give herself to me freely, totally, completely, wholly. It’s a gift I’ll treasure for as long as she’ll have me.
Last night, I told her things no one knows. I bared my soul similar to the way she bared her body. See, I’m already giving myself to her piece by piece, slowly. I need her to make the decision to accept every piece of me in every way, not physically… not just yet.
I won’t lie. I’ve participated in good-time, one-night stands over the years, ones in which I made it perfectly clear that there were no chance for any repeats, but honestly, it happened a lot fewer times than I let people believe. Sure, they were fun, yet they felt like incredibly empty, hollow experiences. Never were they filled with intimacy, sweetness, or anything remotely emotional. They were simply acts performed to service a need.
No, need’s not the right word. Every sexual experience I’ve ever had was simply to provide a service, much like changing the oil in a car or testing the batteries in the smoke detector.
When Ember and I have sex, I want it to consummate our relationship, not to satisfy sexual neediness. I want to share more with her than just our bodies. I may sound like a sap, but that’s what I’ve secretly always wanted. I just never thought I’d ever get it, so I refused to share any part of the real me for fear that I’d get rejected. I thought one look at who I really am would send people running, just like everyone else who’s supposed to love me has done. I thought there was something fundamentally wrong with me that made me unworthy of love. What happened with Kaelyn, my sperm donor’s final dismissal after his death, and the apparent rejection by Mabel, all within a few weeks of each other, solidified the belief of my already damaged psyche.
With the help of my chosen family, Emily in particular, which started when she called me her “sunshine,” and a handful of appointments with the shrink Vanessa recommended, I am finally starting to feel worthy.
And tomorrow, I’m meeting her family. That’s got to mean she thinks I’m worthy, right? Is it too much to
hope that it does? I mean, as her bodyguard, she could just ask me to stay in the car, but she didn’t. She actually expected me to come with her, even told her mom I was coming. Sure, I might have been invited to act as a buffer between Ember and her overbearing mother; she still wants me there. She may not be totally ready for what I want from her just yet, but we’re moving in the right direction.
I look at her now, watching the scene. The rapture on her face is almost the way she looked at me last night right before we were interrupted. I want to be the one she looks at like that again. She is so fucking beautiful, inside and out.
Honestly, I’d suffer the consequences of breaking my contract with Reed Security for her. She’s worth it. But I will keep up the fear-of-losing-my-job ruse until I know she is on board one hundred percent. I thought I felt it last night when I was so close to sliding home, and not just figuratively; I would finally be home. Today, I’m thankful for Bryan’s interruption. She’s close to being ready now, but she still has reservations, and honestly, I’m scared shitless. But I’m forging through with this; I need to earn her complete trust, and that means putting my faith in her, which is what is scaring me. But it’s getting… easier.
Now, I stand next to Noah, seeing the way he looks at the woman I assume is his girlfriend, and it gives me even more hope.
“Hey, boss,” I say quietly, mainly because I don’t want his girlfriend turning all that fire on me for interrupting.
He continues to stare at his girl. “She still amazes me every day.”
Damn. His declaration has me risking a glance at Ember, who’s watching the male get berated.
“Is that Cristiana Calvillo?” Ember asks Noah.
Noah smiles. “Otherwise known as my fiancée, yes.”
“Fiancée?” I ask confused. “Bryan said she was your girlfriend.”
“Yesterday morning, she was.” He rocks forward on his feet. “I proposed when she arrived home yesterday after a month in Canada.” He turns to me. “Sorry, I would have met you both in the conference room, but after the time apart, I didn’t want to be too far from her.”
I shake my head. “No, I get it. We’re good.”
“Güero,” Cristiana calls, motioning for Noah to come to her, “ven a ca, por favor.”
“Excuse me,” he says politely to Ember, “I’ll introduce you when she takes a break.”
He walks to Cristiana quickly, wrapping one arm around her, and places his free hand protectively over her lower stomach. Hmm, I wonder if she’s… dare I ask? I can’t hear what she says to him, but I can tell from the exchange that she loves him wholly, and it’s mutual. It makes my heart both ache and hopeful at the same time.
I fucking want that so bad.
“Holy shit, Douglass. I’m in the same room with Cristiana Calvillo. I am such a big fan of hers. She’s my favorite choreographer on Dance Like No One’s Watching. I only watch when she’s on the show.” She sighs. “I guess she’s choreographing for it this week.”
I move closer to Ember reflexively, and she glances at me and smiles. Her face turns slightly pink and she looks back to what’s going on over there, so my eyes follow hers.
Cristiana is doing her damnedest to convince Noah to do something, and although he’s being reluctant, I know he’ll agree. When he nods, she chirps and turns to the other couple.
“Now, we’re going to demonstrate what it’s is supposed to look like, Smash,” she barks at the guy, walking past him to the sound system. “So pay close fucking attention.”
She sets the music and prances into position next to Noah, who watches her with admiration. The song begins, and I recognize it, “Secret,” by Maroon 5.
I know nothing about dancing, but I know emotion; I’ve trained myself to hide mine for years, but I can recognize it in most other people. Cristiana has the ability to convey emotion through dance. It seems as though she’s playing a woman who loves a man from afar, an unattainable man, dancing behind him then next to him. She finally catches his eye, and they move next to each other with precision. She leaps, and he catches her, moving her around his body intimately, very sensually. It’s really fucking hot. Then, he slides her down his body, spinning her to face us, and she continues to slide, grabbing his thighs behind her, with her head turned to the side and her legs straight out to the sides. Her head is thrown back, eyes on his, which are looking down at her.
Ember grabs the outsides of my thighs, almost the same way Cristiana is holding Noah’s. I step closer to her, so that we’re millimeters away from each other. I can feel the warmth from her, and her hands grip me tighter. Watching this very sensual exchange between Noah and his love coupled with how Ember is gripping my thighs and swaying in front of me, barely rubbing her ass on me, is making it hard to remain unaffected.
That’s when the dance changes.
Noah lifts Cristiana abruptly, almost angrily, and spins her, setting her down and walking away from her. Dancing around him, she eventually leaps on his back and slides off. The desperate anguish on her face is hard to watch. She moves behind him, copying his movements desperately. Then she stops moving for a few beats, and when she resumes, she’s not dancing like he is, transforming from desperate to angry to free.
Damn, if I don’t feel every emotion.
When the song ends, I hear a slight sniffle from in front of me and look down to see Ember rapidly blinking, as if she’s trying to keep herself from crying.
“That was amazing,” she says aloud, drawing the attention of Cristiana, who smiles quickly before turning to the couple.
“See, Smash? He,” she says, indicating Noah, “like you, has never been classically trained. In fact, he hasn’t been dancing since he was a kid like you have. And guess what? He’s a former Navy SEAL, so you’re I’m-too-cool-for-this shit, machismo attitude can suck it.” She steps up to him, standing as tall as she can. “You have no more excuses, puto. If you want to prove you belong in the competition, quit bitching like a little wuss and learn this fucking dance.”
She starts walking toward us with Noah following, pride coloring his entire face.
“There’s more to dancing than hip-hop,” she calls over her shoulder, “and if you learn more styles, you’ll be way better at that. You have five minutes to get your cabeza in the game.”
Ember gallops, yes, gallops over to Cristiana, sticking her hand out in front of her.
“Omigod, Ms. Calvillo, that was so fucking amazing. I love how you mix hip-hop and Latin moves into your contemporary style. I’m such a big fan of all your work, from your videos to your movie work and the reality show, which I guess you’re choreographing this week? I hear you’re going to start your own dance show kind of like The Voice, and I can’t wait to see it.”
“Ugh. That tabloid TV show let the cat out of the bag early, but yes, I’m excited that I’m going to be a judge for a change. And it keeps me here with mi amor full time.”
“Yeah, that has to be cool.” Ember looks to me quickly. “You know, I wanted to be a famous ballerina when I was younger, but my dance teacher told me I couldn’t play softball and dance, so I gave up dance. Turns out that was the wrong decision because when I was older, I couldn’t get a softball scholarship since I’m so short, which probably would have also ruined my dancing career, so I had to go to a local school and study nursing. It also happens to be where I met my ex-husband who turned out to be gay.”
Cristiana spits out a laugh and throws her arm around Ember. “Damn, girl, sounds like you have my luck.”
They walk over toward the sound system, and I watch Cristiana listen to Ember, who is no doubt rambling about something, moving her hands my direction several times. Cristiana is captivated by Ember, who makes Crissy laugh several times; one time it seems water comes out of her nose.
“You really like her, don’t you?” Noah asks.
I plaster on my smile, using my emotion-free mask. “Yes. Your fiancée is beautiful and a great dancer. I saw her eyeballing me, so I’m trying re
ally hard to respect your relationship.”
“Smartass,” Noah says, chuckling. He claps me on the shoulder and asks lowly, “Have you fucked her yet?”
I turn my head his direction, narrowing my eyes, a little peeved he asked that way. Staring him down for a beat, I decide to not tell him off for his rudeness before answering with a sincere, “No, sir.”
His face splits into a smile.
“I apologize. I was testing you, and the fact that you just got pissed means you passed.” He nods her direction. “So Ember was right. She has not had sex with you. Looks like she has taste. Good for her.”
My lips twitch. By fucking with me, he makes me feel like one of the guys. I shake my head and smile.
“You need to know, not giving in has been… challenging.” I look back at the girls, who are still talking animatedly. “She’s the one not making it easy.”
He chuckles. “Well, we need to find her stalker then. Did you meet with Scotty yet?”
I nod. “Yes, he told us to find you.”
His eyes travel to our girls. “Let’s get Ember so that we can try to figure shit out.” He turns his back to the girls and leans closer to me, lowering his voice. “A piece of advice. I know you’re not one to open up much, but don’t fuck this up by keeping your feelings inside. If you like this girl, let her know. Otherwise, you could miss out on valuable time together.”
“What about your no-sex policy, the one you hammered into my head?”
“Look, I lost a few years with Nana because of my stupidity. I thought I was doing what was best for her and I almost lost her because of it. I’m telling you to not do the same. You’re an honorable guy, Dugger. I know you’re not in it with her to just get lucky.”
Again, I stare him dead in his eyes. “If all goes like I want it to, I’ll be the luckiest man on the planet.”