Playing It Safe (19 page)

“Ever since that night I knew that I had to try and I would do anything to make this happen between us. Even if it meant waiting a whole year for the perfect chance to present itself. So when the idea of Josie’s party came up, I must confess I was getting a bit desperate.”

My hand covers my mouth from laughing out loud. I can’t help it. It’s so damn adorable.

“Desperate, huh?” I ask while still giggling.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he says with a sexy grin. “And she’s getting a party out of it, so I’d say she’s making out on the deal.”

“And what do I get?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

“What if I don’t want to wait?” I shoot back at him.

He puts down his glass of champagne and leans forward. His voice is low and restrained when he says, “Would you like a reminder that it’s worth the wait?”

“It depends. What kind of reminder?”

“The kind that’s going to have to wait until after dessert so I can properly refresh your memory.”

Alex is really surpassing my expectations, and not just in the sex department, because that goes without saying. It’s refreshing since men can’t usually keep up or deal with me. He doesn’t seem put off by my personality. He doesn’t hesitate to go toe-to-toe with me on anything. In fact, he seems to enjoy it immensely, as evident by him revealing that it’s my attitude and personality that attracted him to begin with.

After the “Cotton Candy” dessert a little while later, which is absolute perfection and delicious, he makes quick work of paying the bill and ushering me out of the restaurant. It’s as if he’s in as much of a hurry as I am at this point to get on with refreshing my memory. Tack on to that a few glasses of champagne and this girl is anxious to move on to the next phase of the evening.

The drive home is full of desperate kisses at every red light, hands roaming over clothes, and promises of pleasure that have me weak at the knees and dying to get him in my bed.

And oh, how I’ll be having my way with him, because now it’s my turn to surprise him.

CHAPTER TWENTY
-
ONE

A
s soon as we walk in the door, I ask him to get us a couple of glasses of wine while I freshen up. Once he’s out of sight, I dart into my bedroom and head straight for the lingerie drawer. I have stuff in here I’ve never worn that has been dying to see the light of day. Mind you, I also have stuff in here I’ve worn before that I’m not about to put on ever again. I don’t even know why I keep it, to be honest. It’s pretty much soiled once you break up with someone, and it reminds you of that time you ate bad clams, and you say to yourself,
Never again,
when you look at it.

I’m rifling through until I hit pay dirt. A matching fire-engine red lace push-up bra and barely there panties. Immediately, I unzip my dress and take everything off. I’m pulling up the barely there panties when Alex calls out to me from the kitchen.

“Julia, where are the wineglasses?”

I yell back, “The cabinet closest to the refrigerator.”

I hear him close a cabinet door a second later and then call out, “Red or white?”

“Doesn’t matter. Surprise me.”

I’m adjusting “the boys” in the push-up bra when he shouts back, “I thought you hate surprises?”

Fucker has the memory of an elephant.

“Smart-ass.”

I hear him laughing in the background while I stand before my closet mirror doing a final inspection. Hmm, I’m missing something. I mean, I look good as is, but it’s lacking something, and I can’t quite put my finger on …

Aha!

I run back to my lingerie drawer and pull out a pair of thigh-high black sheer stockings and then run right back to my closet for a pair of the best fuck-me pumps I can find. Plopping my ass on the edge of the bed, I carefully, but lightning fast, roll up the stockings and then slip on the shoes. I walk over to the mirror again and …

Oh, hell yes! Amy Winehouse knew what she was talking about when she sang about those “Fuck Me Pumps,” because that’s exactly what was missing.

“I can do this, I can do this. I’m good enough. I’m smart enough. And doggone it, people like me,” I chant out loud to myself in the mirror, and then I hear the pop of the cork from the wine bottle that he’s opening.

Perfect timing.

I open the door to my bedroom, but not before lifting my arms to smell myself because with all the running around and my previously mentioned issue with sweating, you never know. Peering my head around the door, I look down the hallway to see his back is to me. So I walk fast on my tippy toes until I reach the end of the hallway and position myself while his back is still turned. I’m leaning against the wall with one hand on my hip, my feet crossed at the ankles and patting myself on the back because I seriously could not have timed this better if I tried.

“Did you pick red or white finally?”

Alex turns around while pouring what I can now tell is a glass of red wine and says with a grin, “You said to surprise you.”

He looks up at that point to find me standing there in my sex-kitten outfit, and his grin vanishes. It’s replaced with his jaw clenching and a hiss of breath from his nose that I can hear from over here.

“Surprise,” I singsong.

The wine overflows in the glass and spills onto the kitchen floor, causing him to break out of his spell and curse out loud. I’m rather enjoying watching him fumble around looking for a towel to wipe up the mess when I calmly say, “Leave it.”

I don’t have to tell him twice.

Alex drops everything and elegantly strides toward me as his eyes canvass every piece of my body. When he’s about a foot away, I shove off the wall and start walking backward toward my bedroom, matching him step for step. It’s really a fucking miracle I don’t fall and bust my ass in these heels, but I finally make it inside the confines of my room with him still following me.

“Stand right here and don’t move,” I say, pointing to a spot right in front of the foot of my bed.

One corner of his mouth twists up in a sinful grin as he follows my directions. I walk behind him and press my breasts to his back as I reach around him to grab the lapels of his blazer and slowly ease it off. I toss it on the floor and walk back around to face him. He reaches for me, but I take a step back out of his grasp.

“Uh-uh. No touching,” I say, shaking my head.

Alex reluctantly drops his arms and tilts his head to the side, his eyes in silent protest at my instructions. I’m having entirely too much fun as I start to unbutton his shirt. Once it’s off, I run my hands up from his defined abdominal muscles to his upper chest before fanning out to his shoulders and down his arms. His skin is hot to the touch, and he’s taking shallow breaths. I look up at him at the same time my lips press against his chest to leave a lingering kiss there.

“Payback is a bitch,” he whispers playfully.

I giggle because little does he know this little game is driving me crazy too. It’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to scrap the seduction act and jump his bones.

“Promises, promises,” I say coolly while running a finger down to his belt buckle. “Take off your shoes.”

He kicks them off, and I go right into unbuckling his belt while keeping my eyes on his baby blues, which are tracking my every move. Next, I trace my hand lightly over his rigid length, and he sucks in a breath.

My voice is quiet and steady while I stroke him over his pants and ask, “Do you like that?”

He licks his lips and just as quietly answers me. “Baby, it feels amazing, but please let me touch you. I’m dying here.”

“Soon enough. Don’t you know that good things come to those who wait, Alex?”

“And better things come to those who make it happen, Julia.”

“Oh,” I say in appreciation. “I like that one even better.”

I stop stroking him only to unbutton his pants and push them down his hips until they fall with a soft whoosh to the ground. Alex steps out of them and is now standing before me in black boxer briefs that hug every inch of his male perfection to the
n
th degree. I feel like grabbing my phone so I can take some pictures to capture the moment for future reference, but I figure he’ll probably think I’m nuts.

My eyes fixed on his, I remove the boxer briefs and then duck my head to look down. God, I’ve become fairly acquainted with his dick already, but dammit if I still stare at it like it was a mirage in the desert.

“I’m so glad that you enjoy staring at my cock, but if you don’t do something about it sooner rather than later, I’ll be forced to take over,” he warns in a gravelly voice.

I push him backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed. “Sit down, and remember … no touching.”

I drop to my knees in front of him, and he opens his legs to make room for me. Without wasting any more time, I cup one hand around the base of his dick and give a light squeeze. I steal a furtive glance upward and keep my eyes on his as my tongue darts out and starts to lick from the base all the way up to the tip-top of the head like an ice cream cone.
“Fuuuuck,” Alex groans.

His dick gets even harder when both my hands grip the shaft, and I leave my mouth on the head, moving up and down while massaging it with my tongue. Alex’s head falls back on his shoulders, and the sight of him getting off on me sucking on his cock gets me in a frenzy of my own. I need some sort of relief, so I keep the pace as is and then let him take over and do the thrusting for a minute or so. He’s watching me with the most lustful look in his eyes as he fucks my mouth while my hands start to roam down my body.

First, I pinch my nipples through the lace fabric, the sensation like a bullet straight to the junction at my thighs, and I moan with my mouth still around him.

“Jesus Christ, Julia,” he hisses under his breath.

It’s not enough. I trail one hand down the front of my body and rub my hand over the already swollen nub. That’s
soooo
much better.

“Are you kidding me?” Alex says in disbelief. He looks on for a moment while I keep rubbing myself until he reaches his breaking point and mutters, “To hell with this.”

His hands are under my arms and scooping me up from the floor so fast that I don’t even have time to blink. The next thing I know, I’m tossed onto the bed like a feather, landing on my back. He’s hovering over me in a split second, pulling down the cups of my bra and sucking on one nipple, his hand massaging the other.

I moan out loud, and he chuckles against my breast. He lifts his head at the same time one hand skims down to the edge of my panties, and he says, “It’s not so fun to be tortured and played with, is it?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

With that, he sits up on his haunches between my legs. His hands grip one side of my panties, and with brute strength, he tears it apart.

“Alex!”

He’s in the process of snaking them down the one leg they are still together on and doesn’t answer me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hot as hell, but damn these things were stupid expensive.

“Do you have any idea how much those cost me?”

“Do you really think I give a shit right now? I’ll buy you a hundred more pairs, and I’ll tear every goddamn one of them off of you if you ever pull that shit again, do you understand?”

I don’t answer because his hands are spreading my thighs apart. His fingers start to slide inside of me slowly, and my eyes close as my back arches off the bed.

“Do you understand me, Julia?” His voice is thick with desire.

“I understand, Alex. Now please, fuck me.”

He blankets my body with his, bracing his weight on one forearm and lifting one of my knees to his s
houlder before ramming into me with no hesitation.

Perfect. Brilliant. Sensory overload.

“Don’t stop,” I plead in between moans.

Alex keeps pumping in and out of me, my body meeting his every thrust, and on the verge of bursting from the inside out.

He drops my knee from his shoulder and burrows his hands behind my back. Sitting back on his haunches, he takes me with him so that I can be in complete control. I find the perfect rhythm, and at this angle, the friction against my clit quickly becomes too much for me. Alex roughly grips my waist and takes back control of my movements as my head falls backward.

“Look at me, Julia,” he says between clenched teeth. “I want to see your eyes when you come.”

My head lolls forward, and I pull his lips to mine. His tongue grazes my bottom lip, but he doesn’t kiss me yet. He pumps me hard up and down on his cock a few times and then hits the sweet spot, and I splinter in two, my inner walls gripping him tighter and pulling his orgasm out of him while I’m still riding mine out.

We slow down our movements until I’m fully seated on his semi-hard length, both of us slick with sweat and gasping for breath. I run my hands through his hair and gently pull back so that his lips are level with mine and I can finally kiss him. Our mouths open, and the feel of our tongues gliding against each other’s melts me. It’s slow, deliberate, and exquisite—the perfect description for Alex.

Then like a bullet to the brain, a fleeting thought runs through my head: if I’m not careful with him, there will be no
if
I fall in love with him, it will be more like
when
I fall in love with him. I try to shoo it away, but that’s hard to do with the way his fingers are soothingly running up and down my spine. Mix that with him still being inside me and his searing kiss, and I know I’m in big trouble. And this is technically our first date.

Who am I kidding?

I’m already falling for him.

CHAPTER TWENTY
-
TWO

T
he next week is kind of surreal for me. I can’t tell you how many times within the first week of dating someone they had me running for the hills. But with Alex, it’s been nothing but smooth sailing. I’m sure most people will say that it’s only been a week and every relationship in the beginning is like that. My ass every relationship is like that in the beginning. That’s the biggest crock of shit. Pure propaganda bullshit spouted out by, yet again, books and movies.

Does any of this sound familiar? There is a fair young maiden—a virgin, of course, because she’s never had sex in all her twenty-one years of living. And before you go off the deep end and start hollering about how there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin, I agree there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. But in these stories the chick is always a virgin with a magic vagina who apparently has a beacon in said vagina that
only
attracts tattooed bad boys or roguish millionaires who are without one flaw and sweep her off her feet so they can live happily ever after.

Not one fucking flaw.

Like I said, propaganda bullshit.

You know why?

Because
no one
is perfect. Not even the virgin with the magic vagina. Everyone has skeletons in their closet. Actually, some people have a whole goddamn graveyard in there. So the sooner you get all that shit out in the open, the better.

Unfortunately for me, I’ve usually had the pleasure of finding out about those skeletons within days of dating someone. Don’t get me wrong, there are some who have slipped through the cracks, and I’ve let down my guard long enough to get zapped in the ass. And I mean that literally. Ladies and gentleman of the jury, I present to you exhibit A: Jake Ryan.

No, not
the
Jake Ryan from
Sixteen Candles
. That was just a coincidence, but that was his real name. We met, of all places, in the checkout lane of a grocery store. I’m rolling my eyes just thinking about it. Anyway, we dated for a few weeks, and everything was going great. Really great. He
seemed
perfect.

One night post-coital, I dozed off. Next thing I knew, a pair of teeth bit down really hard on my ass, which made me shoot straight up in bed and yell so loud that the paint may have chipped from the walls. In total shock, I rubbed the spot and asked him what possessed him to chew on my ass like he was Hannibal Lecter. He said he was trying to get me back into the mood and thought I’d enjoy it. I don’t know when I gave off the vibe that I’d be into having my ass chomped like it was a cheeseburger. I spent the rest of the night with one eye open until I could make a clean getaway in the morning, and Jake was never to be heard from again. I had teeth marks and a welt on my ass for a good week afterward, making sitting down a chore because I could only sit on one ass cheek comfortably.

I have plenty of stories like this one. Too many. So when I say that so far this week has been surreal, I mean it.

Alex and I have spent the last week together in a blissful bubble of happiness. With every layer that is peeled back and revealed to me about him, I find myself wanting more, needing more from him. And that is saying a lot because I may be a lot of things, but needy is not one of them. So for me to admit that to myself is pretty huge. No, I’m not in love with him, but I’m definitely more in like with him than before.

And what’s not to like?

He’s attentive, thoughtful, caring, affectionate, sexy, gorgeous, suave, insatiable, interesting, funny … I could probably go on.

Every night has been spent either sleeping at his house or at my house. He’s even come to my office a couple of times this week and brought me lunch because he thought I was working too hard. Add
sweet
to the list. So can you blame me for thinking somewhere in the back of my mind that there has got to be something wrong with him? Like maybe he saves his toenail clippings in a ziplock bag. Or maybe he has to repeatedly wax his back because if not he’d look like Sasquatch. I’m actually right in the middle of trying to block out a few of these crazy theories while sitting in my office—one of which involves Alex potentially being the Zodiac Killer—when my office phone rings.

“Julia,” the receptionist says cheerily. “Your one o’clock appointment is here.”

I swipe my mouse and open my desktop to see that I do in fact have an appointment at one o’clock that I had completely forgotten about. Probably because I’ve been spending the better part of my morning trying to find out if Alex’s personality fits with a serial killer’s profile.

“Thank you,” I tell her. “You can send them in.”

As I hang up, I take another look at the calendar on the computer and note the name of the appointment:
A.
Locke
.

It can’t be him. He wouldn’t come here to see me in the guise of an appointment after I told him not to ever contact me again. He couldn’t possibly be that dense. My head pops up at the sound of the door to my office opening to find Aiden walking in. Yes, apparently he can be that dense.

“Are you serious?” I ask. “You made an appointment to see me?”

He confidently strides to the chair in front of my desk and then unbuttons his suit jacket before sitting down. “Completely serious,” he says, grinning from ear to ear.

“Aiden, you have two seconds to get up and get out.”

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “All I’m asking for is a few minutes of your time, Julia. You owe me that much.”

I give him an incredulous look because he must be insane for even saying that. “I owe
you
that much,” I repeat and then point to myself. “You’re saying I, as in me, the person who got screwed royally by
you
, owe you? Did I get that right?”

“Okay, okay,” he says. “You don’t owe me, but ever since I saw you at the engagement party—”

“
Your
engagement party.”

“Yes,
my
engagement party,” he concedes with a chuckle. “It made me really stop and think about you, about what happened, and how I should have made things right between us a long time ago.”

Gone is the air of confidence that had accompanied him when he walked in my office. In its place is a sincere and soft expression that helps to placate some of the tension between us. Not completely. I’m still wary of him, but I’d be a liar if I say that there isn’t a small part of me that isn’t curious to hear what he has to say.

“Fine,” I say after a long pause. “You’ve got five minutes.”

He flashes a crooked smile before running a hand through his hair in relief. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” I glance at my watch. “And you’re down to four minutes and thirty seconds.”

“I don’t even know where to start. I didn’t think you’d ever let me explain. I thought I’d have to keep annoying you like a bad cold or—”

“Genital warts,” I finish for him, and after a long sigh, I go on. “Why don’t you start by explaining why you left?”

“It’s not that easy. There were so many things going through my mind back then.”

“Like what?” I ask.

“For one thing, I kept worrying that I wasn’t successful enough for you,” he says. “You had your career all mapped out, and you hit the ground running right after college, while I was stuck trying to figure out what the hell to even do with my degree.”

“So you’re saying that because I had a career, that’s how your dick ended up in another woman’s vagina?” I ask. “Aiden, if that’s your excuse, I don’t want to hear any more.”

“No, there’s more to it than that.” He takes a moment to collect his thoughts and steeples his fingers together underneath his chin. “I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that you were more successful than me. I couldn’t stand knowing that there was no way in hell that I could provide for you, even on my best day. Every day I was digging myself deeper and deeper into a trench that I had no idea how to get out of.

“Julia, I was stupid. So fucking stupid. In my stupidity, I started chatting online in a group for people who felt the same way about their lives. And in yet more of my stupidity, I started chatting privately with a woman from that group. I had never met her in person, but somehow I could relate to her on so many levels because she was going through the same thing as me.”

He smiles sadly as if he’s remembering something and then continues. “The great thing about the Internet is that you can let your guard down and be yourself. I’m not going to lie and tell you that I didn’t have a connection with her. I did. Obviously, since I went all the way to California to be with her. But I also can’t lie and tell you that I didn’t know it was a mistake the moment I did it, and I’ve regretted it every day since.”

I don’t know what I expected to hear. If it would come close to providing me with some sort of closure that I never thought I would have. Maybe I was hoping that he would say something that would validate all my years of hatred toward him. But his words don’t do that at all. He’s just made me more confused and hurt. Because all he’s really saying is that he was weak. There was no big bad reason or clandestine planning that was done behind my back. He knew what he was doing as he was doing it. So should I forgive him? Is that what his repeated attempts to contact me come down to? His absolution? Because I have to be honest, I’m not very good at forgiving. If that makes me a bitch, so be it. It’s the truth. After somebody does me wrong, I tend to write them right out of my life for good. The way I see it, that’s one less Christmas card I have to send out.

As if he were reading my mind, Aiden says, “I’m not looking for your forgiveness, Julia. I know that I don’t deserve it after what I did to you.”

“Then what do you want? Why bother coming to see me after all this time?”

He smiles again and sits back in the chair. “When I came back home to Miami, I wanted to seek you out. I really did. But every time I thought I had worked up the courage, I would find an excuse not to come see you. Before I knew it, too much time had gone by, and I tried to move on with my life. And then I met Sophia. I knew she had hired you to plan the engagement party. That’s why I never came to one meeting with her since it would have been awkward, to say the least. I couldn’t very well tell her how I knew you either. But I knew that I would have to see you eventually.”

“You think?” I ask sarcastically.

A small chuckle escapes him before he says, “After seeing you at the engagement party, it brought up all those old feelings again.”

“Feelings?”

“Not like that,” he says. “I mean the feelings of guilt over what I did to you.”

“Oh,” I say in a small voice.

“I don’t expect you to accept my apology, but I need to say it.” Aiden takes a quick breath and then finally says those magic words. “I’m sorry.”

It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. I take the opportunity of silence to gather my thoughts on those two little words. Everything hinges on them. At least for me they do. Do I believe him? Or is it that I am all of a sudden so desperate to want to believe him that I’m willing to accept his apology and finally let it all go? Dammit. The scorned bitch in me doesn’t want to so fast. It’s like she’s hanging on for dear life. But there is another part of me that rarely shows itself to the outside world, that
needs
to let it all go. That logical and very sensible part of me knows that I need to accept his apology and move the hell on with my life once and for all. That part of me knows that there is a certain amount of freedom in forgiveness and is ultimately why I choose to tolerate his words.

“I accept your apology, Aiden. Even though it’s five years late, I’ll take it,” I say with a hint of hesitation that makes him chuckle again.

“I know it’s not easy for you, Julia, but thank you. I needed to say it, whether you believed me or not.”

“Don’t get too excited. I still don’t like you very much.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” he says with a wide grin.

In spite of myself, a matching grin fights its way onto my face.

“Who knows, maybe we can be actual friends one day,” he says.

“Slow your roll there, big guy,” I reply with a laugh. “How about I agree not to spit in your general direction the next time we see each other and work ourselves up from there.”

“Fair enough.” He nods and then tilts his head to the side while looking me over thoughtfully. “So how are things going with Alex? You know, the guy I saw you with the other night. His name is Alex, right?”

“It is, and I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

An awkward silence ensues, and I take a moment to glance at my watch. “Listen, Aiden, I think it’s best if we just end this conversation right here and call it a day.”

“You’re right, it’s none of my business. I’m sorry, it’s just that … never mind.” He seems indecisive for a second and then stands up. “It was great to finally get a chance to talk to you, Julia. Thank you again.”

Aiden turns and starts walking toward my door, but dammit all to hell if that little bit of “never mind” doesn’t already start chewing away at my curiosity.

“Aiden, wait,” I say and stand up.

He stops at the door and turns around to face me.

I reach him in a few short strides and ask, “What were you going to say about Alex?”

“Julia, I’m sure it’s nothing, and you’re right, it’s really none of my business.”

I roll my eyes because when someone says something like that to you, they have to be crazy to think that you wouldn’t want to hear whatever it is they know.

“Fine,” he says in a sigh. “It’s just that Sophia seemed to think they’re quite serious. She’s friends with her, I’m sorry I don’t remember her name but—”

“It’s Marisa.”

His lips turn up in a half smile. “Yes, that’s the one. I guess Sophia knows her pretty well, and Marisa told her that they are very happy together.”

“Well that was before we started dating,” I say a tad too defensively.

Aiden leans forward and puts his hand lightly on my arm. “Julia, she also told Sophia that they’ve started talking about marriage.”