SWNOVELS My Rules: Chapter 20
I stare out the window of the cab as the nightlife of Cancún flies by. Blake is holding my hand on his lap and happily chatting away.
As if a washed-up divorcée could ever hold him.
He picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips, and I drag my eyes to meet his. He smiles softly. I swallow the lump in my throat, fake a smile, and go back to staring out the window. My heart is racing. I feel hot and clammy, and a million emotions are rushing through me at top speed.
Suddenly I’m claustrophobic, and I just want to go home.
I want to run as far away from him and this place as I possibly can.
And I know that it was just some random girl from the bathroom whose opinion means nothing. I shouldn’t care at all what she thinks, but let’s be honest, she was only saying what everyone else is thinking.
“So tomorrow after we have breakfast with my family, we should hire a car and go sightseeing,” Blake says.
I nod.
“Is there anything you particularly want to see while we’re here?”
As if a washed-up divorcée could ever hold him.
My stomach churns.
“Not really,” I murmur.
“You okay, babe?” He rubs my shoulder. “You’ve gone quiet.”
Don’t be a drama queen.
“Just . . .” I frown. “Not feeling well.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.
“My stomach is churning,” I lie. “Maybe the spicey entrée.”
He chuckles and puts his mouth to my ear. “Maybe all that spicy dick you’ve been eating.”
I smile sadly. Only he could make me smile when I’m feeling so crappy. “Most probably.”
What’s wrong with me?
Can’t I just live in the moment for one fucking minute?
The lump in my throat begins to hurt, and tears threaten. I turn toward the window to shield my face from him.
It was a random girl who doesn’t even know us . . . Why the hell has it upset me so much?
Because deep down, I know it’s true.
The car pulls up at our hotel, and we climb out. Blake takes my hand in his, and we walk through reception. I notice the two girls at reception check him out, and I glance over at him. Tall, handsome, and dressed in a black dinner suit with an undone bow tie, he really does stand out. It’s no wonder he garners so much attention. I don’t blame them; I’d check him out too.
He’s totally oblivious, and as we get into the elevator, he puts his arm around me and pulls me close. “I’ll make you a cup of tea when we get to our room.” He kisses my temple again. “Tea fixes everything.”
I wish.
“Okay.” I force a smile, and once again, tears threaten.
Ugh . . .
What the hell is wrong with me?
We get to our room, and Blake heads straight to the kitchen. I’m not actually lying.
I don’t feel well.
My stomach is churning so hard that it’s actually making me sick.
“Now, where would I be if I were a kettle?” Blake talks to himself as he opens and closes all the cupboards.
“I’m going to take a rain check,” I tell him. “You have your tea, and take your time. I just need to shower and go to bed.”
“You okay?” He frowns down at me as he pulls me into his arms.
“Yeah.” I kiss him softly. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“Take your time.”
“Is that code for you want to be sick in private?” He smirks.
“Yes,” I murmur.
“Got you.” He releases me out of his arms. “You go be sick in private.” He turns me away from him. “Call me if you need me.” He taps my behind. “I’m right here for you.”
“Okay.” I march up the stairs as my caustic tears break the dam, and I rush into the bedroom, close the door, and lean up against it.
Just one week.
It’s taken him exactly one week to break down my walls and for me to have deep feelings for him. I get a vision of us laughing and cuddling . . . making love.
I can’t go through a betrayal again; I won’t survive it.
The thought rolls my stomach, and I dry retch and run to the bathroom. I open the lid on the toilet and fall to my knees in front of it.
In silence, alone, poisoned by insecurity, I throw up again and again.
The bed dips as Blake climbs out of it, and I drag my eyes open.
I think I’ve slept all of an hour.
“Hey.” I rub my eyes.
“Hey.” Blake smiles as he sits on the bed beside me. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.”
He brushes the hair back from my face. “You don’t have to come to breakfast with my family if you don’t want.”
“No. I want to.” I sit up onto my elbows and look around the room. “What time did you come to bed? I didn’t hear you come in.”
That’s an appalling lie. I pretended to be asleep when he came to bed, and only once I was lying safely in his arms could I finally relax.
What does that say about me? Pretending to be asleep to avoid him but only being able to relax once he’s wrapped around me.
I’m an actual psychopath.
I can feel myself being one, and yet I have no control over my thought processes.
“What time do we have to be there?” I ask.
“Half hour.”
“Okay, I’ll get ready.”
He goes to kiss me, and I pull out of his grip and stand. “Can you make me a cup of tea, babe?” I ask.
“Okay.” His eyes hold mine, as if knowing something is wrong.
“What?”
He raises an eyebrow. “What, what?”
“Tea?”
“You got it.” He stands and walks out of the room, and I close my eyes and internally kick myself.
He should run while he can.
“So . . .” Rosemary smiles into her coffee. “What are you two going to do all week?”
“The question is what aren’t we going to do.” Blake winks across the table at me.
His sisters all laugh, and his dad nudges me with his elbow with a chuckle.
I force a smile.
The morning has been happy and jovial.
Blake’s family are beautiful people, and yet I’ve sat here all through breakfast feeling like an outsider. I mean, what’s the point of getting attached to them?
Just more people to lose.
They chat and laugh, and I stare into space a million miles away.
Coming here was a mistake.
Falling for Blake was the monumental mistake of all mistakes.
Now the worst possible scenario is going to come into play.
I’m going to lose him as a friend, which is something that I never, ever wanted to do.
It’s only early days. Hopefully we can . . . be civil about this and retain our friendship.
I imagine a life without him in it, and my heart constricts.
So dumb, Rebecca.
“Okay, well, we should get going,” his father says. “Our plane isn’t going to wait for us.”
We all stand, and everyone says their goodbyes. Rosemary pulls me into her arms. “Have the best week, darling.”
“I will.” I hug her a little bit tighter.
It was nice nearly knowing you.
“Have a safe flight home.” I smile. I hug his sisters and then his father, and as they walk off into the distance, I’m left alone with Blake. I glance up, and he raises an unimpressed eyebrow.
“What?”
Huh?
“Are you still unwell?”
“I’m fine.”
“Were you ever unwell?”
“What does that mean?” I fire back.
“Just that I know you, and I know that something is bothering you, and I would like to know what it is.”
“Stop being so dramatic.” I roll my eyes.
“So let me get this straight—you’re telling me that there is nothing wrong with you?”
“Open your ears.” I’m getting annoyed now.
“What the fuck was that, then?” he mutters under his breath.
“What do you mean?” I frown.
“You said two words through a two-hour breakfast and faked about two hundred smiles.”
“I’m just . . .” I stop myself before I say something I’m going to regret.
“You just what?” He raises his eyebrow in question. “Spit it out.”
I’m taken aback by his aggression; I haven’t seen this side of him before.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware I had to”—I raise my fingers to air quote—“entertain.”
His eyes hold mine before he turns and storms off.
What?
I march after him. “What are you doing?”
“Going back to the hotel.” He walks ahead, and I nearly run to catch up with him.
“You’re angry because I didn’t talk through breakfast?” I scoff.
He keeps walking.
“Because damn it, if I had known, I would have juggled the salt and pepper shakers to be more interesting.”
He rolls his eyes and keeps walking.
“Will you slow down,” I snap as I run to keep up.
“Get your own cab back to the hotel.”
“What?” I stop on the spot. “Why?”
“I don’t share cabs with liars.”
“Are you serious?” I’m infuriated.
I’m the one who’s angry here, fucker . . . there are no prizes for second.
“How am I a liar?” I snap.
“Oh please.” He rolls his eyes. “Do not insult my intelligence, Rebecca. Something is bothering you. Do not tell me otherwise.” He holds his arm up for a cab, and I stand awkwardly beside him.
I can feel the animosity radiating out of him. Huh . . . Who knew?
Blake Grayson is feisty.
Not sure I like this side one little bit.
“Be careful, Blake.”
In slow motion, his head turns toward me, and his eyes widen. “Did you really just say that?”
I wither a little.
Okay, maybe too far.
A cab pulls up, and he gets in and goes to shut the door behind him.
Is he fucking serious?
“I’m coming,” I snap. He begrudgingly slides over, and I climb in behind him and slam the door shut. He glares out the window as we drive in silence. Why the hell is he so angry? I wasn’t rude to his family . . . shit, was I?
Ugh, maybe I was.
Damn it, I thought I was hiding it well.
We ride in silence, and finally the car pulls to a stop at our hotel. He climbs out and turns to take my hand while I climb out, and then he drops it like a hot potato and turns and marches inside.
I fume all over again.
I follow him down the corridor and stand to the side while he opens the door, and then I storm past him into the room. I throw my bag down onto the table. “I don’t know what your problem is.”
He slams the door shut. “You’re my fucking problem.”
“Me?” I point to my chest. “I’m the problem?”
“I’m going to ask you one more time and one more time only. And if you dare fucking lie to me, I’ll drive you to the airport right now.” He puts his hands on his hips. “What is the matter with you, Rebecca?”
“Firstly . . .” I put my hands on my hips too. “Don’t you dare threaten to take me to the airport. I have no idea who you think you are, but you do not get to speak to me like this. I’ll drive myself to the fucking airport, thank you.”
We glare at each other, animosity bouncing between us.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he growls.
“You want the truth?” I throw up my hands in defeat. “Fine. I don’t think we should have started seeing each other.”
“And why is that?”
“I just . . .” I pause as I try to articulate myself properly. “I liked how things were, and I think we’re better off that way.”
His eyes hold mine.
“I adore you, Blake, and I just think . . . we’re better off as friends.”
“So . . . what?” He purses his lips. “You don’t like me?”
“Not like that.”
He smirks and picks up my handbag and passes it to me. “That’s the first and last time you’ll lie to me. Get out.”
My mouth falls open in shock. “What?”
“Get. Out,” he growls. “I don’t know much about anything, but I do know that you are lying, and if you haven’t got the guts to tell me what your fucking problem is, then there’s no point.”
Anger wins. “You want to know my problem?” I spit. “I’ll tell you what my fucking problem is. I went to the bathroom last night and heard two women talking about how there’s no way in hell that a washed-up divorcée could ever hold you and that it’s only a matter of time before you dump me.”
He puts his weight onto his back foot, physically taken aback.
“And it got me thinking about our situation and how they are completely right. It is only a matter of time before you break up with me, and I’m not prepared to get my heart broken, so I’m saving you the trouble.”
“You fucking coward.” He sneers.
“What?” I explode.
“The only person who is in danger of getting their heart broken around here is me.”
“You?” I cry. “How the hell are you in danger of anything?”
“See, here’s where you and I are different. You’re scared of falling in love with me.”
“And you’re not scared of that?” I cry.
“I’m already in love with you!” he yells so loud that the paint nearly peels off the walls. “And the fact that you don’t know that is a fucking red flag.”
“You want to talk about red flags!” I yell back, infuriated. “You telling me that you love me for the first time like that is a major red flag.” I march into the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” he calls after me. “This conversation isn’t over.”
“Home. Yes it is.”
“Henley is right about you,” he calls.
Huh?
I march back out to the living area. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Never mind.” He sighs as he drags his hand down his face.
“No. I want to know.” I put my hand on my hips. “What does dear old Henley have to say about me?”
“He thinks that I’m the rebound guy and that you’re going to break my heart.”
My mouth falls open in horror. “Coming from him, that’s an actual joke.”
“That’s exactly why it’s coming from him. He knows this stuff; he’s lived it. He keeps telling me that hurt people hurt people.”
“Maybe hurt people are so scared of being hurt that they would rather be alone.” My voice cracks, betraying my hurt.
His demeanor softens. “I’m not going to hurt you, Bec.”
His silhouette blurs.
“Babe . . .” He pulls me into his arms and holds me tight. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“What if you do?” I whisper through the lump in my throat.
“What if you hurt me?”
The tears break the dam. “How could I ever hurt you?”
“By believing what other people say about me in a bathroom.”
I screw up my face in shame. “It’s just . . .”
“I know.” He holds me tight. “It’s going to be okay,” he says softly.
I pull back to look into his eyes. “Is it?”
“I promise.”
“This scares me, Blake.”
“Me too.”
“I shouldn’t be this attached to you this soon,” I whisper.
He kisses me softly. “Well, it’s only fair when I am.” Our kiss deepens, and I know that our first fight is over.
“That wasn’t exactly the most romantic declaration of love.” I frown up at him.
He winces. “Let’s forget I said that, okay?” His lips drop to my neck.
“No.” I smile as his teeth graze my skin. “I’m going to bring that up forever.”
His eyes twinkle with a certain something. “Forever has a nice ring to it.”
My heart swells. “It does.”
Our kiss deepens, and an urgency takes over. Our teeth clash, and I make myself step back from him. “Can we . . . not do this.”
Panting, he frowns in confusion. “What?”
“You’re blinding me with all the orgasms.”
“But what a way to go blind.” He smiles mischievously.
“I’m serious. No sex today.”
His shoulders slump.
“Well, at least not now.” I put my arms around his waist and look up into his big, beautiful eyes. “Maybe later.”
He breaks into a breathtaking smile.
“If you behave yourself,” I add.
He kisses me.
“And don’t give me any more red flags,” I say to add further salt to the wound.
“Careful, Rebecca.” He smirks. “You won’t like me when I’m angry.”
“Yeah, I just worked that out,” I mutter dryly. “Where are you taking me sightseeing today?”
The sun is shining, and the laughter hasn’t stopped.
I cling to Blake’s broad back as I hold on. We’re sightseeing on a motorbike, and it’s day three of our vacation. My hair is flapping around in my helmet, and my lips are windburned. We’ve swum and lain in the sun, danced until our feet are sore, and lived every moment as if it was our last.
A new sense of what my life could be is falling into place, and boy . . . does the future feel bright.
I see a row of shops that I want to look through, and I tap Blake on the back with a pull-over signal. He parks the bike, and we amble through the quaint little street.
Cancún is so interesting. There’s so much to see and do, and every day something shocks me.
“Do you want an ice cream?” I ask Blake.
“Sure.”
I go to the counter and put down the ice creams.
“That will be one hundred pesos, please.” The shop attendant smiles.
I count out my money, and as I pass it over to her, I notice the most beautiful ring. “Oh my gosh, your ring!”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it.” The woman smiles as she looks over at her husband. “It’s a yellow diamond.”
I wished for a yellow diamond engagement ring once upon a time, but I never got it, of course. That dream is long gone now that I’m never marrying again.
“Oh my gosh, yellow diamonds are so rare,” I gasp as I hold her hand to get a closer look.
“Because they are so beautiful.” She beams.
“How long have you been married?” I ask.
“Forty-two years this year.” The husband smiles. “That ring cost me one year’s wages, but it was worth every cent. It’s brought me nothing but luck.”
“You’re a lucky man.” Blake smiles.
“Goodbye.” I smile. Blake takes my hand in his, and we continue our ambling down the street. I can hear music playing in the distance as I tear open my ice cream and lick the paper.
“That bloke must be loaded,” Blake mutters as he thinks out loud. “Did you see the size of that ring? What would that be, like a ten-carat diamond?”
“How do you know about carats in diamonds?”
“I’m actually a specialist. Do you know how long Antony, Hen, and I looked for Juliet’s engagement ring?”
I lick my ice cream and smile as I get an image of the three of them searching high and low for Juliet’s ring. “Well, you did a good job, because Juliet’s ring is perfection.”
“As are you.” He smiles as he throws his arm around me. “As are you.”
The sun’s rays beam down on us as we lie on our towels. We are at the beach, and Blake is reapplying his sunscreen.
“Who do you miss the most from home?” I ask.
“Hmm, probably Antony.”
“Antony?” I smile into the sun. “Why Antony?”
He shrugs. “Well, Henley is all happily married now with a baby on the way. It’s been just me and Ant for a while.”
“You’re not best friends with Hen anymore because he got married?”
“Of course I am; it’s just different. His best friend is Juliet now. She’s the one he can’t wait to see.”
“I love that.” I smile sadly. “Is Ant seeing anyone?”
“He’s sworn off women.”
“Why?” I smile.
“Reckons he doesn’t have time for bullshit.”
I giggle. “Maybe if all they are giving him is bullshit, he is with the wrong women.”
“Right.” He smirks as he keeps applying his sunscreen. “Who do you miss from home the most?”
I think for a moment. “Honestly, I think Barry.”
“Barry?” He frowns.
“Yeah, I loved having that little menace live with me, and I had a very good reason to walk every day.”
“You should get your own dog.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“I mean, now that you know you aren’t going to have to move houses.”
“True.” I smile into the sun. “It does feel good knowing that.” His phone dings a message as it lies on his towel.
“Someone messaged you,” I say with my eyes closed.
“Can you see who it is?” he replies as he rubs in his sunscreen. “My code is 1209.”
I open one eye and peer over at him. “You’re telling me your phone code?”
“Yeah, why not?” He squirts more sunscreen into his hand. “I’ve got nothing to hide. Why, do you?”
“No.” I shrug and type the code into his phone, and it opens up the message.
Jade.
I haven’t heard from you in months.
Can we catch up this weekend?
“Hmm,” I reply, unimpressed.
“Who is it from?”
“Jade. She wants to catch up this weekend.”
He curls his lip. “Block her number.”
“What?” I frown.
“Actually, this is a good plan. Go through my phone now and block all the girls’ numbers. I don’t want them messaging me anymore.”
I stare at him for a beat. “You don’t need to do that.”
“I don’t want women from my past being able to text me.”
“It’s fine, Blake.”
“It’s not. All it’s going to do is upset you and make us fight, and I don’t want that. And besides, I don’t want to talk to them anyway.” He lies down onto his back and closes his eyes. “Start at A. Let’s do this now and get it out of the way.”
I stare at him for a beat. I can’t believe he’d actually do this for me.
“All right.” I scroll through his contacts back to A. “Angela?” I say.
“Block.”
“Abby Brunette.”
“Block.”
I frown. “Why is her name Abby Brunette?”
“Because I know a few Abbys.”
I roll my eyes. Of course he does.
“Block all Abbys,” he adds.
“All right.” I smile as I hit “Block Number.” I have to admit that this really is very satisfying. “Anna.”
“Anna is from work; she can stay.”
My eyes flick up over the phone. “How old is Anna?”
“She’s about sixty and a lesbian. You can relax.”
“Okay, she can stay . . . I guess.” I smile, grateful that he understands me better than I do.
“For the record, I’m blocking your contacts after this,” he tells me.
“Fine.” I sigh as I act perturbed. I have all of five numbers. Block away.
The hotel restaurant is packed to the rafters, and we walk in hand in hand.
There’s music playing, cocktails are flowing, and laughter can be heard echoing through the resort.
It’s late. After we got home from the beach this afternoon, we took a nap and slept longer than intended. We’ve already missed our restaurant booking across town.
“Hope they can fit us in, or else it’s bananas for dinner,” Blake mutters under his breath.
I smile. We bought a huge-ass bunch of bananas at the market yesterday. “I’m actually happy with eating bananas,” I tell him.
“I noticed.” He subtly elbows me in the ribs.
“Can I help you?” the waiter interrupts us.
“Yes, is there any possibility of a table for two?”
“Did you have a booking?”
“Ahh . . .” Blake looks around, as if contemplating lying. “Unfortunately not.”
I smirk, and he gives me the side-eye.
“I’m sorry. We don’t have anything available tonight.”
“Right.” Blake nods.
“Actually, let me check on something.” He takes off across the restaurant.
“I’m fine eating bananas,” I tell him.
“I’m not. I need some protein.”
“I’ve got all the meat you need,” I whisper.
His eyes stay fixed on the waiter across the room, and he smiles. “This is true.”
“And the benefit of it is that you can eat while naked.”
“That’s an excellent point.”
“Actually”—I smile as I try to up the ante—“I’d enjoy watching you go down on a banana.”
“You’re ruining it,” he mutters dryly. “Too far.”
I get the giggles, and he does too. The waiter comes back. “We do have a shared bench table at the bar available, sir. You can eat your meal there.”
“That could work.” Blake’s eyes come to me, and I nod. “Okay.”
“Great, this way.”
We follow him through the restaurant and take a seat at two of the high-top bar’s corner seats. There is another couple sitting at the other side of the corner. They are around our age, and I saw them at the pool earlier.
“Hello.” Blake smiles as he sits down.
“Hello.” The man smiles. He has an accent.
“Australian?” Blake asks him as he pulls out my stool for me.
“Close, New Zealand.” The man smiles. He gestures to the woman sitting next to him. “This is Hannah, my wife, and I’m Peter.”
Blake shakes his hand. “I’m Blake, and this is my girlfriend, Rebecca.”
“Hello.” I give a shy wave. I’m always hopeless in these types of interactions. Thankfully Blake is the friendliest person on earth.
“You guys having a good time?” Blake asks them.
“Yes, we love it,” Peter replies.
“What will it be?” the bartender asks from across the bar.
Blake gestures to me. “I’ll have a classic margarita, shaken and salted, please.”
“Make that two.” Blake holds up two fingers.
“Actually, make that four,” Peter chimes in. “They sound good.”
Blake picks up my hand and puts it on his thigh. His thick quad muscle is hard beneath my hand, and I smile.
Blake’s love language is touch.
He wants to be touching me all the time. Even in bed when we’re sleeping, his hand is on my behind or his foot is resting against mine. Never does he sit beside me and not touch me in some shape or form. Not that I’m complaining. I’m slowly learning that my love language is touch too.
“So, what brings you to Cancún?” Hannah asks.
Blake gestures to me. “We went to a family wedding,” I reply.
She glances down at my hand. “You guys aren’t married?”
“No.”
“How long have you been together?” Peter asks.
“Well, that depends on who you ask,” Blake replies.
Peter and Hannah laugh, and I frown over at him. “Huh?”
Our drinks arrive, and we all hold them up to tap. “Cheers.”
“What does that mean?” Peter replies as he sips his drink.
“Well . . .” Blake shrugs. “I’ve been dating Rebecca for about four months, and she’s been dating me for two weeks.”
“What?” Hannah laughs. “Please explain.”
“Yes, Blake.” I laugh too. “Explain this to me as well.”
“Well . . .” Blake’s eyes dance with mischief as he sips his drink. “Bec and I have been friends for years, and I decided about four months ago that she was the girl for me, so I stopped seeing other women and began sleeping on her couch at every opportunity.”
I smile as my eyes linger on his handsome face.
“She, however, took her time and didn’t make a move until two weeks ago.”
“What happened two weeks ago?” Peter smiles into his margarita.
“She followed me into the shower and seduced me.”
I snort my drink up my nose in surprise, and the table erupts into laughter.
“I did not!” I cry.
“Oh please, admit it.” Blake rolls his eyes. “You did too.”
“This is a cute meet-cute.” Hannah smiles. “He dated you for months longer than you dated him. Classic.”
I can’t believe he told them that. I tighten my grip on his thigh, and he puts his hand over mine and throws me a sexy wink as he blows a kiss.
“How did you two meet?” Blake asks them.
They begin to go into a long-winded story, but my mind lingers on what Blake said.
He stopped seeing other women . . .
For me.
I smile as I sip my margarita. All these little pieces of the Blake Grayson puzzle keep falling into place, and I have to tell you.
This man is a masterpiece.
My heart races as Blake’s body stays buried deep in mine. We are lying on our sides, and he’s curled up behind me.
The soothing sound of the ocean filters through the room, and the sun is just peeking through the curtains.
“This vacation is like a dream,” I whisper sleepily.
We laugh all day and make love all night.
“Hmm.” I feel him smile as he kisses a trail down my face and over my jaw. We cannot get enough of each other. He slowly pulls out and holds me close.
“I don’t want to go home tomorrow.”
“Hmm.” He lifts my top leg and rests it over his body. His fingers slowly slide through my dripping, swollen sex. “I love feeling me in you.”
I smile into my pillow. “That’s because you’re sick and perverted.”
He nips my ear and slides his fingers into me. It’s not in a sexual way; it’s in an intimate way. He likes the feeling of my body filled with his. His fingers slide through my wet flesh, and he kisses my neck. “Seriously . . . how are you so fucking hot?”
I smile with my eyes closed; god knows what a mess I must look like. One thing I’m completely sure of is that Blake likes me however I come. Not once have I been self-conscious around him, which in itself is a victory, seeing how perfect he is.
“Our last day,” I whisper sleepily.
“Hmm.” He scoops his fingers out of me and begins to smear his semen through my lips and down to my back entrance, and he slowly rubs it in.
Oh . . .
My stomach flutters at the feeling of him touching me there. He’s done it a few times, and each time, I like it more.
Not something I ever thought I’d say or feel.
His teeth graze my earlobe as he continues to rub his finger back and forth over me. “You like that, baby?”
I close my eyes at the sensation, too embarrassed to admit that I do.
His lips drop to my neck, and he slowly slides the tip of his finger in. My eyes roll back in my head.
Fuck . . .
The room is silent, and yet all I can hear is the deafening sound of the beat of my heart.
This shouldn’t feel good . . .
His finger slowly works me; in and out he slides. Just the tip at first and then deeper, more sensation than I could ever imagine. An unexpected closeness swimming between us.
This feels intimate and special, not what I imagined at all.
I can feel his erection growing against my behind, and his breath quivers with arousal. “I need you here,” he breathes into my ear as his finger slides in deep.
“I . . .” My eyes roll back in my head. “I have . . .” His finger gets stronger, and my leg lifts by itself to give him better access. Fuck, that feels good.
“I’ve never done it before,” I whisper.
He stills.
I close my eyes in shame. I’m so inexperienced compared to him that it’s just embarrassing.
He turns my head and kisses me. It’s deep and erotic. “Can we . . .” His lips take mine with reverence, and damn it, I want this.
I want to be closer to him. I want to give him everything that I am.
I nod, and he smiles against my lips. He reaches over to the bedside table, and I hear the click of the lid on the lube and feel him fussing around.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Taking my piercing out.”
Oh . . . fuck, this is actually happening. My arousal begins to dissipate as fear takes me over.
His lips drop to my neck again, and he rubs his fingers together to warm the lube up before smearing it over me. His fingers suddenly glide over my skin with ease. “That’s it.”
He repositions my body so that I’m lying on my side. “You okay like that?” he whispers. “I need you to stay relaxed, just like this, okay?”
I nod, although I’m not really sure I can.
To the sound of the ocean crashing on the shore, he takes his time. Together we lie here in our very own cocoon, just the two of us in a perfect intimacy bubble.
For a long time, we lie just like this. His finger works me. His slow, tender kiss makes me forget that I am a mere mortal. Because this feels heavenly.
Being here with him, giving this to him . . . my body shudders, and fuck, I’m going to come. “I need you now,” I breathe against his lips.
“Shhh,” he whispers. “Little bit more.” He adds another finger and then another, and I feel the stretch. “Breathe,” he reminds me.
Fuck . . .
My eyes roll back in my head at the sensation.
I lie here totally at his mercy, and I think that’s what’s turning me on so much. He has full control over me.
He nudges my entrance and turns my head and kisses me as he slides in.
His body meets resistance, and a sharp sting hits me.
“Owww,” I whimper into his mouth.
“It’s okay.” He kisses me again over my shoulder. “Relax, baby, let me in.” His hand is on my hip bone as he guides my body onto his, holding me in place for him to take me. He surges forward again, and pain sears through my senses. “I don’t think . . .”
“Shhh.” He pushes in harder as he pulls my body back onto his, and we break through the barrier, and he slides all the way home.
My vision nearly blacks out at the sensation, and I feel him smile against my cheek.
“I love you,” he whispers.
Oh . . .
My eyes well with tears, and I put my hand up to his face. “I love you,” I murmur as I turn to kiss him.
Our kiss is tender and intimate. A celebration of us.
So much love is in this room, and I never knew it could be like this.
My life mistakes all flash before me, and now I know the reason for everything.
We belong together. Everything I’ve been through was so that I could be here, doing this with him.
For the first time in my life, I feel complete.
The headlights light up the houses as we pull onto Kingston Lane.
Only six days ago we left, and yet here I am returning, feeling like a completely different person. Something happened in Cancún.
I left an insecure divorcée. I’ve returned as a woman who is blissfully in love.
When Blake and I . . . I smirk as I remember how hot it was, taking that extra step in our intimacy . . . my remaining walls came down.
I cannot deny it any longer. I am irrevocably and hopelessly in love with Blake Grayson.
He’s strong yet gentle, sweet yet sarcastic. Intelligent and funny.
Sexy and . . . my heart swells.
Who am I kidding. He’s everything.
“We sleeping at my house or yours?” Blake’s eyes flick over to me. There isn’t a question that we aren’t spending the night together.
“Well, we have to put your car away in the garage, so I guess at yours.” I shrug.
He smiles wistfully, and I have to wonder if he’s having the same inner thoughts that I am.
How did we get here?
Gratitude washes over me for this beautiful man, and I lean over and kiss his face as he drives. I cover him in baby kisses all over, and he laughs as he tries to swat me away. “Stop it, or I’m dropping you at home.” He acts grumpy.
“Sure you are.”
Blake
I read through the file and glance back up at the small boy sitting in the hospital bed. “You are getting stronger every day.”
He frowns. “Where does it say that?”
I take the file to him and point to a line. “Right here, see?” He’s only four, and I know he can’t read yet. “Callum Rogers is getting better every day and is a fantastic patient. We’re very impressed with how he helps the nurses and takes his medicine.” I pretend to read the words out loud as I throw a wink to his mother. I run my finger along the line as if I am reading some more. “It also says here that you are brave, an excellent listener, and deserve two desserts today.”
“It says that?” Callum bites his lip, trying to hide his goofy smile.
“It does.” I nod. “You are doing so well, Callum; we are all very proud of you.”
Mom smiles and rubs his arm. “Great job, baby.”
Callum has tetanus from a scratch he got a few weeks ago. It was touch and go for a while, and he’s been in the hospital for a few weeks, but thankfully he’s now on the mend.
From my peripheral vision, I catch sight of someone standing just outside the door waiting for me. “I’ll be back later this afternoon,” I tell Callum and his mother. “Hopefully it will be home time soon.” I close the file and put it back on the shelf. I make my way out into the corridor to see a woman standing there.
“Dr. Grayson?”
“Yes.”
She puts her hand out to shake mine. “I’m Sam Holland.”
“Oh.” My eyes widen. Shit, I thought she was a man. “Dr. Holland, nice to finally put a face to the name.”
Dr. Holland is the head of the pediatrics board and is revered among her colleagues. How didn’t I know she was a woman? . . . An attractive one too.
“Yes, you too.” She smiles. “I’ve been wanting to catch up with you before I return to New York.”
“You have?”
“Yes, it seems you’re hard to catch.”
“Well, between here and my practice, I’m run off my feet twenty-four seven.” I smile. “My apologies.”
“That’s why I’m here. I have an offer for you.”
“You do?”
“Can we . . .” She looks around guiltily. “Talk somewhere in private?”
“Sure.” I gesture down the corridor. “Come into my office.” She follows me down the hall. We walk into my office, and I close the door behind us. “Take a seat. How can I help you?”
“I think we both know why I’m here,” she says as she takes a seat.
“You’ve lost me.”
“I’d like to offer you a position.”
I frown. “What kind of position?”
“I want you to be the new medical director of Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital in New York.”
I blink. What?
“Your reputation precedes you, Dr. Grayson.”
“I . . .” I shrug with a smile. “Dr. Holland, I’m honored, but I don’t believe I’m qualified for the position.”
“That’s not true.”
“To lead an entire children’s hospital?” I frown.
“I want you to streamline and implement your clinical policies and procedures. We need a leader who excels in patient care. Yes, it’s true we have more-qualified applicants on paper, but it’s your bedside manner with patients and parents alike and your desire to buck current trends in care that sets you apart. You’ve been nominated by the heads of your department, and it’s not just them that think this is the role for you. Many do. I’ve had several recommendations.”
I open my mouth to reply, and she cuts me off. “Just think about it.” She passes me her card. “Albert Costantino is retiring, and we want fresh, new blood from a doctor who’s hungry to deliver the best possible care.”
“I’m flattered.” I smile. “Although I must decline. I couldn’t possibly leave my practice here. I’ve worked way too hard to walk away from it now.”
“Disappointing. This would be a life-changing role for your career.” She shrugs with a smile. “I do understand, though.” She shakes my hand. “Call me if anything changes.” Her hand holds mine for a beat longer as her eyes hold mine. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“You too.”
Hmm . . .
With one last look, she gets up and leaves my office and closes the door behind her. I stare at it for a beat.
Did that just happen?
I make my way to my car with a spring in my step. Although I have no intention of taking it, the offer is a huge ego boost. I work so hard to build strong relationships with my patients and their parents, so to have it acknowledged like that feels like I’ve won the lottery.
I smile as I pull out of the parking lot. Who am I kidding? I’ve already won the lottery. The most beautiful woman in the world is in love with me.
Ring, ring . . . ring, ring . . .
My phone echoes through the car.
“Blake Grayson.”
“Hi, baby.”
I smile when I hear the familiar voice and turn the corner. “Hi, Mom.”
“What are you up to?”
“Just on my way home.”
“Ah, that’s right, the Christmas concert is tonight. I wish we could come.”
“Yeah.” I smile as I drive. “If it wasn’t sold out, you could have.”
“Your first Christmas concert,” she gushes. “The first of many.”
“I’ve been picking glitter out of my hair for a week,” I tell her. “You have no idea how many props we’ve painted over the last few weeks.”
“These Christmas concerts are a big deal.” She laughs. “Look at you.”
“Look at me what?”
“Being the perfect boyfriend. You’ve transitioned into this part of your life so incredibly well. I’m so proud of you, love.” I can hear the pride in her voice, and it makes me smile. “Rebecca is a lucky girl to have you.”
“I’m the lucky one, Mom.”
“Are you sure about Christmas Day?” she asks. “There’s a heap of us.”
“Yes. Rebecca wants to do it at our house.”
“You’re living together now?”
“I guess.” I shrug. “We sleep between our two houses and are never apart.”
“How long have you been together now?”
“Three . . .” I frown as I think. “Four months.”
“Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“It sure does.”
I drive onto Kingston Lane and see everyone on our golfing green, glasses of wine in hand and chattering away.
I smile. Seriously, best street ever.
I drive into my garage and park my car. Rebecca is already at the school, and I’ve got an hour to kill before I have to leave. I grab a beer from my fridge and walk out front.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” they all call. Juliet and Chloe are sitting on the chairs, and Antony and Henley are putting balls into the hole. Winston and Carol are in the road talking about her garden.
“How was your day?” Chloe asks.
“Good, and yours?” I sip my beer and notice the collar sticking out of her sweater.
Pink with red hearts.
Huh?
“What’s that top?” I ask.
“My pajamas.” Chloe smiles. “I wasn’t planning on drinking wine tonight. I came over to pick up something, and next thing I’m here.”
What?
“You got matching pants to those?” I try to act casual.
“Yeah, but I can’t find them anywhere.” She looks down at herself and dusts a piece of lint from her sweater.
What the actual fuck?
Henley glances over, and his eyes widen as he puts the dots together.
I hear my heartbeat in my ears as I drag my hand down my face.
I know where Chloe’s pajama pants are.
They were under my bed.