Gorgeous Rotten Scoundrel (21 page)

"Yes," he said, barely able to get the word out. His hips moved faster, but still smoothly, snaking against the softness of my bottom, his fingers pressed against the floor, his chest vibrated in the way that I knew he was about to release and so, I let go. We both called out a mix of aggressive, guttural groans and moans from deep inside. His cock grew and contracted as I contracted around him, allowing us both to reach the highest peaks of our climaxes together.

***

Somehow, we found ourselves on a makeshift nest on the floor made from bath towels. Yes, we were in a penthouse in the Four-
freaking
-Seasons, but chose to remain on the bathroom floor of all places. The sun had nearly set, leaving only one dim light on in the bathroom, casting a candle-like hue throughout the space. Heath played music off of his phone and grabbed a bottle of wine I had left over from my picnic the night before.

"Turn your Lights Down Low" played in the background as I rested my head on Heath's still-bare chest. He quietly sang along to the song as I rocked my head from side to side, patting my fingers on his chest to the beat. It was another song that I discovered we both loved.

"We might want to consider getting this stuff off of us," I suggested.

"I don't know, I think we look pretty fucking incredible covered in this." I gave him the once over, he was almost entirely silver with slivers of gold, occasional patches of his skin peeking through. "Seriously, there is something incredibly hot about your naked body covered in gold."

"Well thank you, but it's starting to get sticky. I think we've far surpassed the sexy point with this stuff. Can you imagine walking through the airport like this?"

He let out a small laugh. "Something tells me we would start to gain a following of random animals and wayward children."

"I assume the hotel got this stuff for you?"

"Yeah, the concierge."

"I'm impressed that they got it so quickly."

"You get this room, you get whatever you want. Besides, this is the city of bakeries and whatnot, plenty of edible food coloring to go around."

"I don't think I can eat another sweet thing for a week."

"Bullshit, you have a major sweet tooth."

"What makes you say that?"

"I know about your secret Oreo stash in the cupboard over the fridge."

I propped up on my elbow, my mouth agape. "That was specifically designed to be non-wheelchair accessible."

"Yeah, well now I'm back to six-foot-three and I don't know where anything is in that damn kitchen, so I look through all of the cupboards and drawers just to find a goddam spatula. Then I saw your betrayal: hiding cookies from me. It hurt, I must admit."

"Well, for one it's my job to keep you looking like this," I waved my index finger up and down at him. "Secondly, I'm hiding them from myself. If they were anywhere else, I would consume the entire bag in seconds."

"Fair enough. Want to take a shower? I realize that day I asked you to, we never made it that far."

My heart fluttered remembering that romp. "We didn't...that's because you can't keep your paws off of me."

"And you can't keep your pussy off of my knob.'"

"Jesus Christ of Nazareth," I gasped, but I have to admit, I loved the playfully arrogant side of Heath as much as I loved his tender side.

He grinned. "Shall we?" He smirked like the gorgeous devil he is.

"Let's go," I grunted out as I sat up. I gave him my hand and helped him off the floor, which immediately made me recall the circumstances of our first kiss and made me smile. "This floor is a mess. Are they going to charge for that?"

"No because you're going to clean it up. Didn't I tell you that before you made this mess?" he winked.

"This is all your fault! As usual, you dragged me into your bad behavior."

"I love turning you to the dark side, what can I say?"

I lead him by the hand to the shower.

"Sadie?"

"Yes..."

"How many calories do you think that whole thing just cost us?" he asked sincerely.

Fucking models.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The next morning, we found a small cafe for breakfast before heading to the airport. I was no longer able to keep up the emotional fort around me, Heath had finally disassembled the wall I thought I had so flawlessly erected. He was my one-man wrecking crew. I couldn't imagine going back to the way things were: either stopping this affair altogether or just engaging in forbidden fucks only to then pretend like nothing had happened. Heath and I were a thing and I could no longer retreat like I had before, we had moved way past mental war games. I had to concede, I had to put all of my chips in. And dammit, even though I had promised myself that I would never again expose myself to potential devastation like Kenneth had put me through, I was so effin' excited!

That being said, I'm not good at initiating that whole talking about my feelings thing, and it would be Heath, the shameless open book, who would bring up the conversation.

Over some tartine, eggs, and coffee, Heath was the one to bring our "thing" up. "So...what are we going back to? You know how I feel."

"I do?"

"We spoke about this the other night. You know, gambling, Walt Whitman, etcetera."

"Refresh my memory."

"God, you are going to make this as painful as possible, aren't you?"

"That's not the goal. I just need to know this is real because it feels like a dream. I'm in Paris for fuck's sake."

He smirked and leaned forward, placing his arms on the table in front on him. "It's not a dream. We're just really that good together. I want to be with you and that's it. I don't want to see you with anyone else. I acted like...I acted the way I do...and I almost watched you walk away with that Wall Street tool."

"He never had a chance."

"Well, I don't want to risk it. I know I am a pain in the ass, but so are you."

"How darling."

"I wouldn't want it any other way. You challenge me and you get me. And you're home for me." I looked away, feeling shy by the openness of the conversation. "So what's it gonna be, my Ice Queen?"

I looked up at him, locking my hazel eyes into his aqua blues. "You know what they say, go big, or go home." Heath smiled and it made me smile like we were mirroring each other's happiness. "I know I am ever the wet blanket, but what about our working arrangement? Are you comfortable with that?"

"You keep feeding me like that and I will pay you forever," he winked. "Seriously though, let's just keep going just as we had planned. But after September, I am firing you."

"What?" The harshness of his delivery took me by total surprise.

"No more cautiousness. You need to work for yourself. You're ready, stop working for assholes like me and Brock and get out there and use your talents."

He was right, I needed to stop waiting: waiting for the moment when I suddenly felt experienced enough to write a proposal for a book deal or sign on with Mindy so she could help me expand my career. I needed to stop telling myself I would open up a restaurant with my trust someday. I needed to stop guarding myself from possible failures in my career and my love life and just do shit now.

"That sounds like a plan, but I'll need your referral."

"Whatever you want as long as you show me those tittaays," he whispered across the table.
That's my Heath!

***

We made it back to Heath's place in the Hamptons mid-evening. The first thing I did upon my return was run over to my phone, which was now dead, and scoop it up.

"
Muah muah muah
!" I kissed it several times.

"That's a sickness. What you just did there with your phone is sick," Heath said. I immediately turned on my professional hat, determined not to let our
thing
put me in a position to slack off on my responsibilities, and looked in the fridge. It was barren.

"I'm going to grab some stuff for tonight and tomorrow," I called out from the kitchen.

"You don't have to. We just got back, you must be tired." He was treating me like his girlfriend, which was sweet, but he was paying me and I had a job to do.

"No, I want to. It'll be quick, just so we have some basics in the fridge."

"Whatever floats your boat." When I passed him on my way through the living room he was already on his laptop, presumably catching up on emails and the like. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked as I headed towards the front door.

"What?" I whipped around and felt for my purse and keys.

"I want to feel your lips on mine."

"Usually that results in much more."

"I promise, I'll be good," he said, pouting. I walked over to him and he pulled me on his lap. I tucked my chin under and laughed as he showered me with kisses. "How long do you think you'll be?"

"Oh, an hour I guess maybe an hour and a half. You know I like to peruse the aisles and look for deals and such. I think I am going to stop at Walgreens. Remember? Customs made me throw out my $30 shampoo, those bastards."

"Alright."

The first thing I did upon entering my car was to hook my phone up to the car charger. It usually took a few minutes to turn back on when it had been drained completely like that. I blared the radio, feeling consumed with probably every happiness-inducing hormone known to man. "I Knew You Were Trouble" by Taylor Swift popped up on the radio and I jacked the volume up and sang it at the top of my lungs. I hit a red light and lost myself in the moment, pounding the steering wheel, eyes closed, belting out the words in my wobbly-pitched singing voice. A honk jolted me out of my personal concert and I looked over to see two teenage boys pantomiming me. I stepped on the gas to get out of that embarrassing situation as quickly as possible and made it to the lot of the grocery store in just a few minutes.

It wasn't until I arrived in the parking lot of the grocery store that I noticed the voicemails from a New York area code. Immediately, there was a dreadful tightness in my stomach which was confirmed by voicemails from St. Luke's Hospital.

You are listed as the emergency contact for Isabella Lucca. Please call us as soon as possible.

The voicemail didn't fully sink in, just the key sentences that informed me something was very wrong.

When I finally spoke to someone, she told me what she could on the phone: Nonna had a bad fall and fractured her hip. At her age that was very bad, but there was more. They had run some tests and found some things. I would want to come as quickly as possible. I asked to speak with her and they told me she had been sleeping a lot because of painkillers but they would try. I was lucky to find her awake.

"Nonna?"

"Bella?" Sometimes she called me that, it was my mother's name.

"How are you?"

"Eh...okay, okay." She sounded groggy.

"The doctors said you had a fall. What happened?"

"I don't know. I don't remember."

"I'm coming to see you, okay?"

"Did the doctors tell you I'm sick?"

"What? What are you talking about?" They said they wanted me to come to the hospital, but what she said washed me in panic. "Grandma...what are you talking about?"

"Don't worry baby, I'll be fine."

"I know, you are going to be fine. I am going to take care of you. What's this talk about being sick?"

"The doctor says I have the cancer in my lungs." She said it so frankly and so unassuming, as if she was telling me she had heartburn. My eyes welled up, it took everything I had not to lose it and cry all over the phone. I should have been there with her, I should have held her hand as they told her the news, but I was off in Paris with some guy I could barely stand a couple of months ago.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I would have flown back. I forgot my phone. I am so sorry."

"No, I'm happy. I wanted you to have a good time. Is he nice? The boy?"

I laughed wistfully to myself.
I told you she was a romantic.
"Yeah, he's nice," I said, my voice wavering from the tears. And now, I knew it was even more important to her that I find someone, because she was my Alfred. And it was possible I might not have her for much longer. "I'm coming, okay? Right away."

"Don't drive fast." Typical of my grandmother, to care about the speed of my driving when she was given a potential death sentence.

"I won't. I love you and I'll see you soon." Those last words broke a seal, tears gushed out of my eyes. I knew this day would come, I always knew it, but it hurt so badly to know that I could be truly alone in this world. That I would have no one to fall back on unconditionally. That the person who was my buoy, my beacon in the lonely ocean of this world, would disappear from this earth. I covered the receiver so she wouldn't hear me.

"See you, Bella."

I cried for several minutes in the car, letting out all of the fear, emptiness, and anger I felt at myself for dropping the ball and not being around when she fell, and at the world, for taking my parents and now her. But something new stirred inside of me: I felt the urge to fall back on someone, the one person who I knew could make the ache in my chest subside. His smile, his touch, his words: they made my sadness fade. I wanted to cry into Heath's arms, I wanted him to sing me a song, I wanted him to caress my cheek like he did that morning in Paris when he thought I was asleep. I was going to go all in with him because that is what Nonna would want me to do. She wouldn't want me to live my life in fear of being hurt because she was wise enough to know that it is that fear that makes it so. I sucked back the tears and raced to the house. My plan was to tell him everything, to cry into his warm chest, to feel his kisses on my temple. Then I would go be with my Nonna and sort out what could be done with the doctors.

I wiped my eyes before opening the door to the house. I didn't want to freak him out by coming in hysterically, and I wanted to be able to explain the situation to him, which I would not be able to if I had lost it again.

I opened the front door to the house, the foyer and living room was empty.

"Heath?" I called out, but there was no answer.

"Oh, hello..." Out from behind the wall that blocked part of the kitchen from the foyer, walked Illy. All six-foot-eight, 80 pounds of her. She had on a dress that was more like a shirt in length, fuck-me heels, her makeup was done, her hair blown out. She was trying to impress.

Just as I was about to ask her what she was doing in the house, Heath walked out from the hallway, fixing his pants. His eyes expanded when he saw me.