Authors: Chantilly White
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Holidays, #New Adult, #Contemporary Women, #General
Shrugging in acquiescence, Jeff gave a theatrical shimmy,
evidently some sort of drag queen voodoo to banish his uncharacteristically somber
mood. Back on form, he skipped down another row of cases, flitting here and
there and back again like a manic ballerina.
There was something about a six-foot-four, very muscular man
skipping across an upscale store's dignified selling floor that made Derrick
want to laugh. Maybe it was the expressions on the other customers' faces.
When Jeff stopped abruptly, Derrick nearly plowed into his
back. Tapping a coral-tipped fingernail against his chin, Jeff perused the
display case, then pointed to an ultra-modern twist of gold-and-platinum set
with three round-cut sapphires.
"How about that one?"
Derrick made a face. "Hideous."
"I like it," Jeff said, peering closer.
"Then buy it for Greg."
"Ha," he said. Then, considering, he leaned over
it again. "The stones match his eyes."
Derrick rolled his. "Perfect. Now can we get back to
finding the one for Mia?"
"Sure, sure," Jeff answered absently, at the same
time gesturing one of the saleswomen over.
Tuning out their chatter, Derrick pored over the rest of the
rings in the case. None seemed quite right. Moving on, he left Jeff haggling
over the gift for Greg.
"May I offer you some assistance, sir?"
Derrick jumped, not having heard the salesman step up behind
him.
"Well—" Derrick's usual abhorrence for
shopping in general, and intrusive salespeople in particular, warred with his
desire to find exactly the right ring for Mia. It had to be perfect. At the
rate he was going, he could spend half the day in here and not succeed. He
sized up the elderly gentleman standing next to him and took the plunge.
"I'm looking for an engagement ring."
"Congratulations, congratulations. You've come to the
right place. My name is Garreth." He extended his hand to shake Derrick's,
who responded in kind.
Introductions completed, Garreth said, "Well, now, tell
me about your intended. What sort of style does she prefer?"
Derrick hesitated. How could he sum Mia up in a few words
and get across exactly what he was looking for, when he didn't even know what
he was looking for?
Reading him correctly, Garreth backtracked. "Let's
start with an easier question. What is her stature?"
"Ah, she's about this tall," Derrick said,
indicating the underside of his chin, where she fit perfectly for snuggling.
The salesman proceeded to lead him through a series of
rapid-fire questions, establishing Mia's physicality, lifestyle, fashion sense,
and more. Tapping his chin, Garreth led Derrick from case to case, pointing out
a ring here, a ring there, but still, none gave him the kick in the chest he
was waiting for. Jeff joined them after a while, a small navy-blue-and-white
striped bag in his hand. His own quest fulfilled, he got into the act, making
suggestions, conferring with Garreth, bouncing around the store as though he
were performing on stage.
Finally, they wound up at the back of the store, seated
before a case with only six rings inside.
"We also do custom work," Garreth was saying,
after putting the sixth ring back in the case, another reject. "In fact, I
have one nearly completed that might. . . Just one moment."
He dashed behind a heavy curtain before Derrick or Jeff
could say a word, and was back nearly as fast, a black velvet tray in his
hands.
"Just finished this afternoon," Garreth said
triumphantly, and set the tray on top of the glass. He picked up the ring to
hand to Derrick, who knew before he touched it that it was the one.
Brilliant fire shot from a center princess-cut diamond of
nearly two carats, according to Garreth, raised up high in the middle and
surrounded by platinum filigree in a rich Renaissance pattern. Three smaller
stones in the same cut were inset on either side of the center stone, and dual
bands of solid diamonds flanked each side of the center ring for a total of
three joined bands. It made a statement without being gaudy, was classy without
being boring, and the ultra-feminine style suited Mia perfectly. One of a kind,
just like her.
Derrick didn't have to say a word. Garreth smiled.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Outside the exclusive Laguna Beach jeweler's, Derrick and
Jeff stood with their matching bags, both a little shell-shocked.
"That thing cost more than my first car," Jeff
said.
"That piece of shit Datsun?" Derrick said with a
snort. "Of course it did."
Still, he rubbed his stomach with one hand where a knot of
nerves danced a fast tango.
To give himself a moment to recover, Derrick made a show of
putting his foot up on an iron bench and tightening his shoelaces, only to have
his friend lean over and tap the side of his leg—right next to a large
purple splotch.
"Mr. Fox, I do declare," Jeff simpered in his best
belle-of-the-ball southern accent. "Is that, perchance, candle wax?"
Damn. He thought he'd gotten it all off in the shower that
morning. Shrugging, the best he could come up with on the spot was, "Uh. .
."
"Well, well, I didn't know Mia had it in her. She and I
must talk."
"It's not like that, I just—" He broke off,
catching the angelic grin on the other man's face.
"Come on," Jeff said, dropping an arm over
Derrick's shoulders and laughing. "I'll buy you a beer."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mia peered at the dark circles beneath her eyes in her
little compact and winced. She'd tossed and turned all night, replaying the
hour with Derrick, her body a bundle of need clamoring for release.
In desperation, she'd grabbed her battery-operated
friend—a gift from an insistent Allison years ago—and taken the
edge off around four in the morning, but it had left her strangely unfulfilled.
She wanted Derrick's hands on her body, Derrick's mouth
fused to hers. Derrick's scent surrounding her with his essence.
Carnal promises full of dark delights had danced beneath his
fingers on her skin. Animal lust had leaped into his eyes when he looked at
her, naked and trembling in her fluffy robe.
It was all she could think about.
After talking the night over with Allison, her friend had
assured her it was all she'd be thinking about, as well. At least until she
found her own man to work out the sexual tension, since the boy toy from the
day before had not lived up to her expectations.
Mia had lived at the beach most of her life. She was
accustomed to parading around in skimpy bikinis, her stint with Barry
notwithstanding. But no man on earth had ever seen all of her, had ever
caressed her with a glance and made her feel as though she'd been stroked like
a well-tended cat, all purring pleasure and demands for more.
He'd left her aching, revved, slick with need. And wide
awake.
She looked like hell, and needed a fix-me-up, quick.
The gorgeous bouquet of pink-and-white stargazer lilies
Derrick had sent her at work filled her condo with fragrance and brought a
smile to her lips. Mia buried her nose in their beauty, filling up on the
incredible richness of scent. She hadn't expected that sort of gesture from
him. He'd sent her flowers before, on her birthday or after a successful event,
but never just because. And never with the sort of note he'd included with
today's arrangement.
These petals remind me of your skin. Wear something that
bares a lot of it so I can get my hands on you when I pick you up. Be ready at
seven. Love, Derrick
A sharp burst of lust had rocketed through her system,
anticipation making her giddy. He was certainly taking this dating thing
seriously. Even knowing it was all an act couldn't take the shine off the
anticipation, the sheer fun of being treated like a much-desired girlfriend.
She was going to let herself enjoy being courted by a handsome man who knew
what he was doing. One she was going to share the most intimate side of herself
with on Christmas Day.
If she lasted that long.
Part of her already craved him so strongly, she thought
she'd combust. She'd never had any difficulty waiting the three months out
before, had never had any real compulsion to let go of her virginity. No one
had mattered enough. No one had made her
feel
enough. Now, in less than twenty-four hours of 'dating' Derrick, her
whole body was aquiver with need.
Desperate.
As Mia showered and pampered herself into readiness for
their first official dinner date, she pondered changing the terms of the
agreement. He was only honoring the Three Month Rule for her sake, after all.
If she could convince him she no longer cared about waiting, that she'd made
her decision with a clear mind, a clear conscience, surely they could bump up
the date.
Like to tonight.
Derrick picked her up in his convertible BMW sharply at
seven, approving the cut of her forest-green summer dress with one silent,
smoldering glance that spoke volumes. The fitted top of the halter dress left
her shoulders and back bare, with a deep V between her breasts. It highlighted
her narrow waist and ended in a twirly, above-the-knee skirt with a Celtic
love-knot pattern around the hemline. She'd paired it with five-inch sparkly
silver sandals that made her nearly as tall as Derrick.
He said, "Hi," and the single syllable in his
velvety voice sent tremors down her spine. He kissed her, and the tremors
turned to quakes.
Then he frustrated the hell out of her by taking her hand
and leading her to his car instead of upstairs to get naked, where she wanted
him more very second.
For his part, Derrick wore black slacks and a burgundy dress
shirt under his charcoal sport jacket. His sandy hair, just this side of too
long, brushed the collar of his coat and seemed to beg her fingers to run
through it. The color of the shirt brought out the gold in his eyes and fit his
torso perfectly, putting her in mind of a jungle cat, all predatory smiles and
rippling muscles.
He looked, in a word, delicious.
And, oh, she wanted to stroke. To make him purr and arch and
want as much as she, to crave and demand.
He'd put the top down, so Mia grabbed a silk scarf from her
bag to wrap around her hair. They drove down Pacific Coast Highway to Dana
Point, chatting all the way, not minding the traffic. They strolled the
boardwalk before their late-evening dinner reservation, picking out their
favorite yachts in the marina and fantasizing over long cruises, tropical
islands and black-velvet skies far from land, covered in stars. Mia fought to
keep her attention on his words while he held her hand and swirled his thumb in
her palm, sending pure, sexual sizzle whipsawing inside her body.
Wine with their prime rib relaxed her enough to allow him to
pull her onto the restaurant's empty dance floor. She swayed in his arms to the
quiet strains of the string quartet, reveling in the feel of his muscular arms
surrounding her. In the casual slide of his fingers along the back of her neck,
or shivering over her bare back, tracing the indentation of her spine. In the
heat of his hand resting on the curve of her hip.
He murmured to her, his voice vibrating deep within her
body, plucking the chords of her desire with words designed to inflame her
lust. The heavy bulge thrusting firmly into her belly expressed his own needs
and made her vibrantly aware that only two or three thin clothing layers
separated them from joining together right there on the floor.
But after they wound their way back to Newport in the cool,
quiet night and returned to her condo, Derrick walked her to her door and
stopped. He didn't ask to come inside. Instead, he pressed her against her
front door and kissed her brainless, her hands shackled in one of his. He held
her wrists above her head while his other hand roamed her side and back, by
turns teasing and possessive, but moving no closer to where she wanted him
most.
A raspy, amused voice broke their embrace. "Good
evening, you two."
Supremely thankful for the dim lighting, Mia poked her
flaming-red face around Derrick's shoulder to greet her neighbor, while
Derrick's heavy breathing filled her ears. "Hi, Mrs. Hinkley."
The elderly woman gave them a cheerful wave and continued on
her path, her dog bouncing around her feet. Mia dropped her head on Derrick's
chest, mortified to be caught making out on her front porch like a randy
teenager.
Laughing softly, Derrick kissed the embarrassment away, then
took her keys and slow danced her inside her house, disengaging the alarm since
her arms were too leaden to obey her commands to move after his drugging
kisses.
With another kiss for her mouth, and one each for the backs
of her hands, he whispered, "Goodnight, Mia," and left her there in a
puddle of need so intense she wanted to scream.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next few months were more of the same—casual
picnics at the beach, holding hands on the blanket and staring into each
other's eyes. Trips to the Costa Mesa swap meet with Allison, bike rides along
the boardwalk. Derrick took her to see Jeff's show in Hollywood and they went
rollerblading with Greg. A day at Disneyland included making out on Splash
Mountain, shared ice cream cones and dinner under the stars.
Derrick the Lover, up close and personal, was an eye-opening
experience. She'd never had such focused attention, never felt so special and
cherished, like a real girlfriend. He sent her flowers so often her home
resembled a florist's walk-in. He brought her little trinkets he picked up
during the day that made him think of her. A shy faerie sculpture for her
bathroom shelf, a signed copy of her favorite eighties album from a used record
store in Tokyo when he had to fly to Japan for a business meeting. A note
tucked under her windshield wiper when she left work for the day, just to say
he missed her.