Love You...Never

by Francesca Penn

  “Nervous?”

  Cher’s question is jarring for several reasons. “Hmm?”

  “Our meeting. Are you nervous?”

  “Our meeting?” I tease. Cher is definitely not needed today, but I’m not surprised she’s opting to stick around. Her words confirm my theory.

  “If you think I’m leaving before I get a chance to see that golden Adonis in person, you don’t know me at all.”

  “Emiliano is almost to his SUV. I’ll see you a bit.”

  “Uh huh. Just don’t make any pit stops.”

  Caris

  I tried to project a neutral vibe. I wanted to give the assurance that I am a professional with the upmost respect for my clientele, but I failed because I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know it was possible, but my mouth dried and watered at the same time. Viewing photos of Remy Masters is nothing like seeing the real thing amble into my store as if he’s honoring us with his presence. He is, actually, but that is beside the point. His whole aura is catnip for women; each step is bold because he moves with a purpose. Remy’s a boss, and he knows it; his green eyes blaze with confidence as his tall form moves in our direction.

  Cher hums low in her throat when his tongue dimples his cheeks by popping out to add moisture and warmth to his cold lips. The wind is brutal today, but I’ve never been so thankful. I can tell by the way his light-weight sweater clings to his muscles and how his jeans compliment his body with mocking perfection that his fiancée must spend most of her time naked.

  I don’t have adequate words for the man currently flashing his perfect teeth at me with a million-dollar smile. Remy is beyond yummy. He’d surpassed yummy so long ago, he’d crossed two time zones, refilled his car at least three times, spent the night at a hotel, had several meals, and then got on a plane to collect thousands of flier miles. No lie. Remy doesn’t look mortal. I’m pretty sure he glows.

  “Caris? Right?” Remy inquires as he extends a hand.

  Oh damn, even his voice is beyond…hell, just beyond. I don’t have words; I smile bigger and shake his hand. Correction. I have words, just not any appropriate ones for this situation. His full lips tug into a smirk.

  “I know that look. You’re refraining from saying something.” His chuckle is low and sexy. “It’s okay; my Carlee doesn’t have a filter. Go ahead, say what you need to say,” he encourages me while still gripping my hand.

  “You, sir, are incredibly attractive,” I admit, giving in to his encouragement. “How do your employees get any work done?”

  I’m worried I’ll have to pick Cher up off the floor when he gets a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Same with you. You are beautiful, yet your employees work. I make them put in work.”

  It wasn’t what he said that almost killed my best friend. It was how he declared it; voice deep, eyes blazing and demanding respect. His alpha was showing.

  I laugh because that’s all I can do before releasing his hand and murmuring a breathy, “You’re right.”

  My body heats up for a different reason when I catch a whiff of Emiliano’s cologne as he moves beside me. The men are about to greet each other when Carlee flies in like a whirlwind.

  “Holy balls, it’s windy out there today.” I giggle when she grabs her modest chest. “I think Jack Frost took one of my damn nipples.” She moves her slender body forward, mirth shining in her brown eyes. “I almost blew away, and Remy wasn’t there to save me. I told him my ass wasn’t big enough to anchor me and I should remain indoors…” She grabs my hand and spins me. “See! I need your booty…” she pauses, and I supply my name. “Caris!”

  “What’s wrong?” I worry when she stops talking and closes her eyes.

  “Girl, nothing. I was just trying to imagine how I would look with a booty. I would be a mess, hunty.”

  “I like your ass the way it is,” Remy announces.

  Instead of taking his statement as a compliment, she frowns at him like he is silly. “Remy, I can’t twerk with this,” she says pointing at her booty.

  Remy laughs hard, his eyes sparkle and his teeth glisten. “Baby, you couldn’t twerk even if you were thicker.”

  “Har. Har. Har,” Carlee mocks Remy before she reaches for Cher’s hand and waits for her name. “Cher, he’s just jealous of my hip-hop goddess status, pay him no mind.”

  I’m amused and irked when her eyes land on Emiliano. Yes. I’m aware I just ogled her man for at least five minutes, but that heart-shaped rock on her finger is a blinged-out reminder of her man’s commitment. I glance at my hand. I have no such luck. Emiliano is not my man. Carlee’s attention is simply a reminder that some other woman will eventually take his attention again. I swallow a small panic attack. What if the woman he’s hung up on decides to wake up?

  “Well, hola; papi. Como estas? Mi llamo Carlee.” She shakes his hand. “Muy caliente y guapo y hermoso. That’s the extent of my Spanish, but damn, you’re fine.”

  I lock eyes with Remy, and his expression says, “Told you.”

  Emiliano’s accented “thank you” follows his chuckle.

  “I could learn more Spanish…”

  “No, you can’t,” Remy cuts in.

  Carlee ignores the comment. “Babe? He’s the one who did the advertising for the Alaskan resort?” She continues when Remy nods, “Had I’d known this much eye-candy was wandering around in Alaska, I would have…”

  “No, you wouldn’t have.”

  Carlee smiles at a thought. “Wait! You took me off that project on purpose!”

  Remy shrugged unapologetically. “We’d just came back after…restructuring.”

  “That’s code for we hooked up in Alaska. I’d thought it was a one-night stand at that point.” Her amused expression morphs into love as she looks at Remy. “I didn’t know he was on the executive floor being a hater, though.” We all laugh.

  “I wasn’t hating per se.”

  “I kid you not; I had a meeting with him and Thomas on my schedule. I was supposed to be the subject-matter expert on the rebrand because it was my job and all. Ten minutes before the meeting, his assistant called and told me that I’m no longer needed because Remy decided to oversee the project himself.” Her eyes rake over Emiliano. “I get it now.”

  “That’s enough.” Remy returns Carlee to his side by reclaiming her hand. He shakes Emiliano’s hand with his free one. “Good to see you again, Thomas. Caris, I’m excited we’re allowed to get a sneak peak of the Eros line.”

  “I’m thankful,” Carlee adds. “I was excited to find out it’s easy to remove. I have a ripper and am running out of undergarments.”

  I beam. “I have the answer to that.”

  Cher takes one more lingering look at Remy. “It was lovely meeting you two, but I have to run.” She shakes their hands again then shoots us a wave and whirls out the store.

  Cher’s absence injects a touch of intimacy into the room. Leaving us feeling like we’re on a double date instead of a group event. I would love to hang on Emiliano the way Carlee does with Remy, but it’s not my place. I must take our secret moments and be happy with those. I shake away the negativity and return to business.

  “Okay, Carlee. Are you confident in your size choices, or do you want me to measure you?”

  Chapter 20

  Caris

  I’m far too buzzed for a late afternoon, but when in Rome… Carlee insisted we’d go to happy hour after a very, very successful lingerie haul. If I had to guess, Carlee purchased the entire Eros line twice – each item in two colors. Plus, she perused the store for additional naughty finds, adding a great deal of items available in the store. I’d begun to worry if she has any underwear at all. Several thousands of dollars later, a very happy and slightly wrinkled Remy swiped his card then invited us out to drinks.

  Happy hour was a dream. Emiliano and I shared drinks and laughed with another couple as if it were a normal Saturday activity for us. It all felt too real and right. Emiliano smiled and engaged with me throughout the conversation, filled me in
when I didn’t understand what they were talking about, brushed hair out of my face, and looked at me like I was the best thing on the menu. I found myself zoning out and daydreaming about his kisses.

  His lips still have yet to graze mine. I’m starting to believe he’s not a kisser. I just don’t know if he is not into it at all or just doesn’t want to kiss me. Either way, I don’t want to rock the boat since our truce is so fresh. It’s something I’ll have to navigate in the future.

  Currently, my body is still humming from his teasing words, touches, and kisses. He toyed with me while Carlee and Remy were in the dressing room; keeping me on the edge of arousal without following through on anything. During happy hour, he’d squeezed and kneaded my thigh under the table while he casually discussed business with Remy. I’d ordered several drinks just to keep my mind off acting on the throbbing between my legs. My mind maintained that my body needed the break, but my body disagreed wholeheartedly.

  I sneak a peek at his profile while he concentrates on the road. He’s nibbling on his bottom lip. I want to nibble him all over. The alcohol is swirling around my head, heating my blood, and adding extra thumps to my heart. I abandon my light-weight jacket; I’m too heated for it because of the arousing memory replaying in my head.

  “How much you want to bet they’re back there fucking?” Emiliano murmured close to my ear.

  “Hmm?”

  He’d saddled up behind me while I was balancing the register. Luckily, I’d finished counting money because the heat and scent of his body would have been distracting. I’d inhaled enough to puff out my chest when his hands maneuvered under my shirt and gripped my naked sides. My nerves sizzled as his warm tongue traced the outside curve of my ear.

  “I said, how much do you want to bet they’re back there fucking.”

  His body was flush against my back, and I didn’t care what he was saying. Emiliano could recite the alphabet, and it would be fucking sexy.

  “I’m not about to go find out.” My breath hitched as I spoke because his right hand moved down my abdomen until his fingers dipped beneath the band of my leggings and panties.

  “That means we have time for our own fun.” His left hand cupped my breast and teased my nipple as he continued. “I just checked my phone.” I gripped the side of the counter and moaned low when he rubbed his erection against my ass. Emiliano kissed the spot under my ear before he continued. “I’ll get you back for sending me a video of me feasting on your pussy.”

  Emiliano’s fingers slid lower for emphasis. His fingers rested on my clit.

  “You didn’t like it?” I teased.

  “I fucking loved it. I should bend you over and take you right here.”

  “Nuh-uh. You killed my goddess this morning.”

  Emiliano dipped a finger lower and felt the wetness at my slit.

  “She’s not dead,” he argued.

  “On life support,” I supplied while I fought the urge to rock against his finger.

  “Let’s go in the supply room. I’ll strip you out of these, spread your legs, and give her CPR.”

  Everything fluttered when his finger penetrated me. I didn’t know which was the biggest tease, the one finger inside of me, the thumb that toyed with my nipple, or his lips that peppered light kisses along the side of my neck.

  “We can’t,” I protested weakly.

  “You’re right,” he agreed and pulled away.

  “What?” My confusion colored my voice and shone in my eyes when I glared at him.

  Those sexy lips curled into a sinister smile. “Don’t send me videos I can’t reenact immediately,” he warned smoothly. “Now that you are just as hot as I am, you know how I feel.”

  “It’s not my fault you just checked your phone.”

  Emiliano shrugged as if my point was moot. “Either way, your pussy will just have to throb for attention until I get you back to one of our places.”

  I tilted my head up in weak defiance. “And if I don’t feel like playing along later?”

  Emiliano moved back into my space – his size, heat, and scent muddled my brain again. “You will.”

  He was right. My body aches for him. I can’t think of anything beyond how I feel when Emiliano is owning my body. It’s not just the sex – he’s amazing at that – it’s the connection I experience when his guard is down. In those stolen moments, he is mine, and I’m his; body and soul. The other bullshit melts away. Gone are the insults and hurt feelings leaving white-hot lust behind.

  Emiliano turns down a road I’ve never used. I’m a main roads gal. Yeah, I may take a little longer during traffic hours, but I know I’m not unwillingly signing myself up as the main course on some cannibal’s menu. No, thank you. The pink, purple, orange, and gold flecks of dusk drops into the murky depths of night.

  My inner freak is awakened, and she wants to play. I rest my head on his shoulder; my right-hand slides under the arm he’s resting on the center console to rest palm flat on his chest. His heart is racing because he’s noticed the change in my mood.

  “What are you doing?” His question sounds like a dare.

  “Exploring, pillaging, and plundering,” I joke. I grab his erection. “Got it!”

  “Sorry, it’s attached; it can’t be taken. Besides, wouldn’t I be the pirate since I’m the one usually searching for booty?”

  “That’s a terrible joke,” I critique with a chuckle. I have his belt open, his pants unbuttoned and unzipped, and his cock out of his underwear before I speak again. “I don’t need to physically take it anyway because there are other things I can take.”

  Emiliano grips the steering wheel tighter when I begin to stroke him. I love the way he feels in my hand: hard, warm, and silky. His eyes flit down to meet mine.

  “And what’s that?” he rasps.

  “Hmm?” The feel of him so enthralls me that I forgot what we were talking about in the seconds prior.

  “What can you take?”

  “Liberties.”

  I have his turgid flesh in my mouth before he could protest. His intake of breath is sharp and fast. I’m encouraged by his reaction. My center throbs; I’m aroused by the taste of him. I swirl my tongue around his head while I allow my saliva to drip on his shaft and my hand for more lubrication.

  “Dios mio,” he breathes when I start to suck and stroke him concurrently. “Are you trying to kill us?”

  I laugh then pop him out of my mouth. “No.” I tease his slit with my tongue. “I know what I’m doing. You need to concentrate on what you’re doing.”

  He growls when I slide him back into my mouth. I pick up the pace and add a little pressure.

  “This behavior tells me you want to be fucked. I thought the goddess in your lady garden was in critical condition,” he grounds out between moans.

  I’m so wet for him; he can take me while he’s driving. Safety be damned. My tongue and hand glide over him a little longer before I respond. “Turns out, she’s designed to take a beating.”

  Emiliano’s tires screech to a stop on the side of the road. “Seat belt off, now!” he demands. Throwing his car in park, he jumps out – shirt covering his junk – and storms around to my side of the vehicle.

  I was barely able to get the seatbelt off before he pulls me out of my seat and spins me. I brace myself on the hard doorframe when he pushes me forward. Emiliano opens the back door to shield us in case a car passes us. His chest brushes my back with each hard breath he takes. The cool air smacks my ass when he liberates it from my leggings. My gasp echoes in the cabin of his SUV when me slams into me from behind.

  “This is going to be quick,” he grits through his teeth. “Make no mistake. You will be fucked again, and I will fuck your face until you taste my cum.”

  I can only whimper in response because his pace and intensity steal my breath. He pushes me over until I’m gripping the center console for support. He’s much, much deeper. I feel the familiar knot forming low in my belly. I’m scared to tell him lest he’s cruel eno
ugh to stop. I’m so wet I can hear the sloshing and slurping of my body every time he slams home.

  “You better not scream,” he threatens me in a low growl.

  Emiliano grabs my mound as he continues his punishing pace. One squeeze shoots me into the atmosphere. I bite my arm to stay quiet as wave after delicious wave cascades through my body. His warm essence coats my insides as his erection jerks inside of me. After pulling out, he quickly fixes his clothes. He puts my leggings and panties back in place when he’s done.

  “Now you have to ride home with your panties soaked in my cum.”

  Chapter 21

  Emiliano

  I’m in love. Yes, I know you know. This tidbit of information should not be a shock at this point. I’m in love with Caris. Again. This time it’s the grown woman version, and the grown woman is a dirty, dirty girl. The same dirty girl who swallowed my cock in my shower last night until I coated her throat with my appreciation of her skillset. It is a profound talent. My buddy stirs in my sweats at the memory, but I ignore him. It’s not the time or the place.

  I’m in the middle of making an important decision. I look from one choice to the other. Honey Bunches of Oats or Honey Nut Cheerios.

  “Babe, just pick one so we can continue,” Caris whines while reading her texts.

  In addition to the random hugging, she also has unwittingly started calling me pet names. I know she’s not aware because she does it in moments when part of her mind is occupied with something else like texting, watching TV, or checking emails. Who knew? All it took to melt the ice princess was a little sex. Maybe Amy was right; we had to meet again as adults. It’s given me time to acquire a very usable skillset – the ability to make her scream.

  “I’ll be stuck with whatever choice I make for at least a week.”

  “Wow. You really are a commitment-phobe.” Caris goes for a light and airy tone, but it never takes off to the proper altitude. Instead, her statement is definitely loaded.