Taming Blake (A New Adult Romance): The Complete Trilogy (35 page)

I’d hardly caught my breath when I heard the door open behind me. I turned round in a flash, wondering just
who
might be coming inside, and not knowing quite what I might do if they did …

But when I caught a first glimpse of his familiar athletic body, his bronzed skin glowing in the dim light, his slicked back hair shining, all my anxieties quickly melted away.

“That was quite the show,” Blake said with a playful smile. “Mind if I join you?”

“I don’t know,” Juliet purred quietly, her green eyes moving across to me. “I think that’s for Jessica to decide …”

My body was still trembling and flushed, my head was still whirling, but right now, I knew
exactly
what I wanted. I looked first at Juliet, at her perfect breasts, her slim toned figure, her pink wet pussy with its big sensuous clit, and then over to Blake, drinking in his godlike proportions, his perfect abs and his thick muscular thighs, and down there at the very center of him, that perfect cock: thick and curved and completely rock-hard.

I turned and let myself fall gently backwards onto one of the many plush cushions that lined the edge of the room, leaving just enough space between Juliet and I for Blake to flop down between us, too.

“Sure,” I said with a smile. “Why not.”

I felt the shivers of excitement and anticipation build inside me once again as Blake made his way into the small room, positioning himself between us, his body so strong and broad compared to our slim feminine frames, draped so delicately either side of him.

Juliet’s eyes caught mine with a flicker of mischievous glee and I felt as if we both had the same idea simultaneously.

In unison we both leaned forwards, our mouths joining in a slow sensual kiss above him. And as we kissed, we let our hands stray to his body, grazing over his taught pecs, his washboard abs, then further down, both of us sensuously beginning to massage his thick hot cock and smooth round balls.

At exactly the same time, we both broke the kiss, turning our attentions to his body. While Juliet focused on his right pectoral, I took his left, closing my mouth around his small hard nipple, flicking it playfully with my tongue, enjoying the feel of his hand slowly caressing my ass, his eager fingers gently slipping between my legs from behind, grazing my lips as I worked my kisses downwards, in time with Juliet, first over his abs, then his belly button, and then following the dark trail of hair to that hot musky place between his legs.

Our mouths both closed around the thick base of his cock in another sensuous kiss, our tongues flicking and slurping, our lips brushing, Blake’s velvety hardness there between us, softly throbbing with his heartbeat. I softly massaged his balls while Juliet let her hand explore his upper body once more, while we both worked our kisses slowly up his shaft, finally meeting around the pearly pink head of his cock.

Blake groaned as our tongues flicked together once more, and as if able to read each other’s minds, Juliet and I began taking it in turns to suck him, each taking him into her mouth for a few delicious moments before passing him across to the other like a lollypop, breaking away occasionally to kiss and fondle each other, too. And as we both worked on Blake like this, feeling him writhe and moan down there beneath us, he tried to pleasure us with his fingers, as much as he was able from that heightened state of ecstasy, his hand moving between my legs, his fingers toying with my clit as Juliet and I both worked him up to boiling point.

With a final groan, his muscular thighs tensed and his hips thrust upwards and I felt his cock begin to pulse, both our lips wrapped tightly around his throbbing shaft in a kiss, Juliet and I both tasting the warm ambrosia of his cum as it slid downwards, mingling with our kisses.

I shivered with glee; never had I felt more sexy, more kinky, or more
in control
...

This couldn’t be happening.

I stood there, stock still in the middle of the almost-finished restaurant, unable to believe my eyes. Because the huge centerpiece table I’d ordered — the one that was to run right down the center of the restaurant — was huge. So huge in fact that once it was in place, it blocked off the door to the kitchens at one end,
and
the main entrance to the restaurant at the other.

I just couldn’t believe it.

I’d fucked up, royally.

Looking back over the measurements I’d supplied the carpenter, I discovered I’d made a massive mistake, and this was the result: a table so big it wouldn’t let any customers in through the doors!

There was no getting around it; this was my error, and I was gonna have to pay for it, big time. And not just me. Max and Andy were going to have pay for my screw-up too, because at this time of night, the very evening before Mermaids grand opening, there was
no way
I was gonna be able to fix this mess in time.

The grand opening was going to have to be cancelled. Max and Andy would be furious. And I was going to be a laughing stock. Who was going to employ me now? The interior designer who couldn’t even use a tape measure correctly? My career was
over
.

I was so stupid to believe I was cut out for this. It was such a rookie error, and soon
everyone
was gonna know about it.

Well, at least Max and Andy haven’t seen it yet, I told myself. There might still be time to fix this mess … If I could just think how. My brain went into overdrive.

What about if I get a load of cheap packing crates from somewhere? Fling some tablecloths over them, and claim it’s the new hot style?

No, better than that: breezeblocks! I swear I’ve been in a bar somewhere in Brooklyn that was using them for tables …

Better still, how about I suggest a hot new concept: everyone eats off the floor!

It was no use. I was screwed.

And just then my cell started ringing. I pulled it from my bag: Max calling.

Oh God. Please not now.

But I knew I just had to answer; I’d been promising him updates all week.

“Darling!” he cooed, the moment I picked up. “So? Are we all ready for our big party tomorrow?”

I knew I had to tell him the truth. But how? Because deep down, I was terrified that if I messed up this job, I’d never work in this city again — and be straight back to Glenbrook Falls as a consequence (this time for good).

“It’s going … great,” I replied.

What are you saying?

Just tell him the truth!

“Fantabulous!” he gushed. “I just can’t wait to see it!”

I thanked my lucky stars that Max couldn’t actually see me, crossing my fingers behind my back and shaking my head, as I began telling Max about everything
except
the colossal screw-up with the table, making the place sound completely and totally ready for tomorrow’s big night.

What am I doing?

“Anyway, listen,” I said, trying to wind up the call, my panic rising to new levels. “I’d better go. There’s still a few last minute touches I need to attend to. But don’t worry. It’ll all be perfect by tomorrow …”

I hung up.

There was nothing for it. I was going to have to call back the carpenter who’d designed the table and beg him, bribe him, force him to rework the table, to get it ready for tomorrow.

I slumped onto the floor, suddenly exhausted.

Just a few months ago, I was living in Brooklyn with Greg and working for Marianne. Just a few
weeks
ago, I’d found myself back in my bedroom in Glenbrook Falls. And only five short days ago, I’d been writhing with Juliet and Blake in that mirrored chamber at the party.

I sighed, exasperated. But there was no time right now to feel sorry for myself. There would be plenty of time for that later, when Max and Andy fired me and everyone in this city found out I was a total fraud. But until that moment, I had to do all I could to sort his huge mess out, best as I was able.

As I went to thumb through my cell for the carpenter’s number, there on the screen was
another
text message from Gina — the third that day.

She’d been messaging me all week, asking me to come out partying, and I had started to worry that perhaps there was something really wrong — the tone of her recent messages had seemed a little fraught, a little wired. I was worried that her break up with Julius had really knocked her for six. But as much as I wanted to see her and find out just what was wrong, I’d spent all week neck-deep in this final prep for the big opening. I mean, I hadn’t even been able to see
Blake
since Friday night’s party, let alone anyone else.

So sorry
, I texted back.
I promise we’ll do something soon - Mermaids launch is tomorrow night. Wanna come? X

There, I’d invited her to the coolest party in town (if I could pull it off, that was). I didn’t need to feel guilty about ignoring her most recent calls and messages.

And just thinking about tomorrow night’s guest list: page after page of names, rich, important, famous, got me panicking afresh.

I returned to the job in hand: scanning through my cell for the carpenter’s direct number. I located it and hit call, pacing urgently around the empty restaurant as I waited for him to pick up.

Come on, come on
.

But it quickly rang to answerphone.

I left as calm a message as I could, explaining the problem and urging him to call me back at the first opportunity, but already my hopes were sinking fast. After all, it was well after six p.m. And which carpenters really worked into the evenings? He was probably at home with his family by now, or out at a bar, kicking back.

If he wasn’t gonna answer his phone, I was going to have to go to him.

So I ran over to the corner of the restaurant which had been doubling up as my office for the past week, searching through the many stacks of paperwork for the carpenter’s invoice in order to get his address. Finally I found it, and I winced when I caught sight of the incorrect measurements I’d supplied him with.

And I winced again when I saw the address of his business. He was located all the way in Connecticut. There was no way I was going to make it there in time. It was just too far.  

What made me choose a supplier so far away, God-damn-it?!

I turned and looked once more at the table, feeling another lurch of panic. It looked absolutely awful, not to mention being a real health and safety hazard. No, it just wouldn’t work. But
without it,
the room had no focus, no centerpiece, nothing at all to draw the eye. And if I decided to do away with it, how would I even get rid of it anyway?

After all, I was stuck here, totally on my own, and it was huge. Monstrous. Too big for me to handle. I imagined myself somehow sawing it two, before remembering that it had cost the best part of three hundred
thousand
dollars. It had seemed so sensible, not to mention modern and chic, having one large table instead of twenty smaller ones. Ha! It had even seemed
cost effective
at the time, but now it just seemed a ridiculous waste of money.

And then the thought flashed into my head: there was one person I knew who might be able to get me out of this mess, one person I knew who worked with wood all day and lived right here in this city.

But would ever want to speak to me again?

§

Josh arrived less than an hour later, dressed in the same scruffy work clothes he always wore, his big brown eyes framed as usual in those thick-rimmed tortoiseshell glasses, his hair a little longer than the last time I’d seen him. He’d grown a beard too, and wow: it
suited him
.

I had to admit, when I saw him arrive, carrying his big box of tools, I felt a small flutter of excitement. After all, there was just something so rugged, so dirty and manly about him, so at odds with his soft smile and kind eyes. Rugged, manly
and
kind? He sounded like the perfect guy, and I wondered why he hadn’t been snapped up already.

“I’ve been asked to do jobs at short notice before,” he said with a smile, “but I’d never heard of such a thing as a ‘carpenter’s emergency’ until you rang …”

“Thank you
so
much for doing this,” I gushed, leading him into the restaurant and showing him the mess.

“Wow,” he said. “That’s the biggest table I’ve ever seen. How did they even get it
in
here in one piece?”

“It took four guys two whole hours to get it in place,” I explained. “I thought that was normal. I didn’t realize that something was really wrong until they left. Worst thing is,” I groaned, “it was my fault. I gave the wrong measurements. I just need it scaling down a little. You know, so it actually fits in the room, and chairs can go around it, and people can, like, enter the restaurant without stubbing their toes on it. Think you can do it?”

He took a few steps forward and began examining the table closely, assessing it carefully, kneeling down to run his fingers gently over the honey-colored wood.

“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath. “This thing is absolutely beautiful. How much did it cost?”

“You
really
don’t want to know,” I replied with an awkward smile. “So, think you can do it?”

“Normally, I’d hate to butcher such a breathtaking piece of carpentry,” he replied. “Whoever made this is a real craftsman. But you say this place has gotta be ready for tomorrow morning? Well, I suppose in that case there’s nothing else for it. As long as swear you don’t tell
anyone
I did this, then … yeah, I’ll do it.”

I clapped my hands together, feeling another flutter of excitement as I watched him pull off his shirt, revealing a paint- and oil-stained vest beneath, not to mention his
bod
y
−
which was a little more toned and sculpted than I’d first imagined.

Josh was … hot.

“Thank you
so
much for this,” I said, honestly.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied with a grin and a shrug, getting to work.

And as I watched him, I began to wonder if maybe I’d done the wrong thing running out on him, back at that concert.

§

Somehow, in just a couple of hours, Josh had completely reworked the table: bringing it down to the correct specifications, taking off a couple of meters at each end, and then finishing the wood to such a standard that, unless you were a total expert, it would be impossible to even tell the join.

My ass was saved!

And as he worked, I’ll admit it: I’d been enjoying watching him, too, his face fixed in concentration, the sweat standing out on his brow, his surprisingly toned body covered in a thin sheen of perspiration as he sanded and sawed and lacquered and polished …

I’d been trying to organize my files, iron out the last few creases and clear my stuff away, ready for the waiting staff to arrive first thing tomorrow morning. But most of my busyness had only been pretend. Josh was just too damn
distracting.

“How much do I owe you,” I said once he was finally finished, wondering if there
was
any price you could put on saving someone’s whole career the way he’d just done.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he smiled back. “I’m just glad I could help.”

“Well, let me buy you a beer at least?” I said.

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?” I asked, kind of relieved that the payback was so small. But then I realized I knew
exactly
what he was going to say next. 

“This time, you don’t run out on me halfway through.”

§

I let Josh choose the bar, and he took me to one of his favorites, just a few blocks away, a cute little tavern that you wouldn’t even notice from the street save for a single set of steps that led you down to a small basement-level place. And down there, the small unassuming door led into a single room done out like a living room, warm and cozy, with mismatched tables lit by flickering candles.

“Wow, this is great,” I said. “I bet you take all the girls here.”

I could feel myself doing it again:
flirting
.

Should I be feeling more guilty? I wondered.

But since I’d come back to this city, I was determined to take things easy, to have fun — including fun with other
guys
— to not get too hung up on Blake. Because surely that’s what he was doing  tonight, wasn’t it? Out with some other girl, no doubt …

Josh laughed and shook his head. “Despite what you might have heard about me,” he blushed, “I’m not that much of a lady-killer. I like things uncomplicated.”