Friday morning, I wake to the sun at its fullest.

The smell of coffee assaults my senses. Justin must’ve brewed some before he left for work this morning. He’s working closely with the bureau here in Southern California to put Martinelli away for life.

I, blessedly, have the day off, not to mention my plans with Tessa tonight. She pissed me off by laughing a few nights ago when Justin blurted out that we kissed, though it wasn’t truly her pissing me off; it was more my embarrassment than anything.

Knowing I shouldn’t be embarrassed, I drove to the restaurant to hopefully still meet them for dinner. I assumed she’d drive over with Justin. What did she do next? She dropped the asshole off and left. She sent a message with him, informing me of her passing on dinner and going home for the evening for her date with Netflix. Oddly enough, it’s what we have planned for tonight, though I hope it stands for making out and pizza.

I’m to bring the pizza; she’ll supply the kisses.

Justin and I didn’t end up meeting the dipshits out at the Busty Bunny. Why? Because, apparently, Tessa nearly hit a man at a traffic light because he decided to follow her for a few blocks, harassing her, and Justin climbed out and threatened to arrest him. He countered back with namedropping his boss, Martinelli, and we couldn’t risk it possibly being one of the guys going out. His cover as a friend visiting me would have been blown since the dude saw his badge, his name.

I’ve arranged for Justin to use the employee elevators in the hotel so he doesn’t run into any of Martinelli’s goons. It’s worked for now, but it won’t work forever. If he doesn’t move to another hotel, our cover will be blown.

I’ll be swimming with the fishes.

Justin, well, he’ll probably eat a bullet.

Not a pleasant thing to think about, all around.

As I’m walking into the kitchen-slash-dining area of the suite, I see the full pot of coffee along with a note.

What in the hell? He stole a box of my cherries from Cherry? How did he pull it off? She must have given them to him. Then again, I did send enough for approximately three months of indulging…if she ate two boxes a week.

Hell, I don’t even know if she likes the chocolatey spheres of goodness.

Honestly? I sent them to her for myself.

For us.

To enjoy later.

To put it bluntly, I’d love to eat gooey chocolate cherries off of my sweet Cherry.

That is, if we ever get to the more intimate part of our relationship. Maybe tonight she’ll let me kiss on her all I want. Maybe I’m moving fast, but I’m firmly in boyfriend mode, and I need to have her, protect her, show her my love, even if I’m unable to verbally say it yet.

Glancing down at my watch, I see it’s nearing noon. Time to drink a huge mug of coffee and officially get my day started. There are places I need to go before seeing my tart Cherry in a few hours.

* * *

The day flies by and before I know it, I find myself standing on her front porch, knocking on her door. She answers within seconds.

“Wow. I’m speechless.” She’s a sight to behold.

Shrugging, she reaches for my shoulders, hauls me into her place, and kisses me. As I’m about to slip her the tongue, she breaks away.

“Nope, not yet, Ace. All you get for the moment is a kiss. We’ll work up to more.” She frickin’ winks at me. “Now, bring the cheesy, meaty, melt-in-your-mouth deliciousness into the kitchen.” Turning to glance back at me, her sapphire eyes sparkling in the soft glow of candlelight, she adds, “Please.”

Trailing behind her into her kitchen, I watch her ass sway the whole time. Gah, what I wouldn’t do to touch that ass.

“You can sit it over there, if you like,” she suggests while pointing to a space at her island.

“I have a better suggestion: you on the island, me kissing you senseless, pizza stowed in the oven for later…after I say I’m sorry about my reaction the other night. I was embarrassed and lashed out at you, the closest person to me in the world, besides Rhys.”

“Firstable, maybe. Secondable, it’s okay, Ace. What you don’t understand is, I get you. You’re like me. We’ve always been similar, I think it’s why we’re so…spirited when we’re together, now and in the past. Whether we’re kissing or tossing out insults, we sync,” she informs me.

I’ve never looked at it from her point of view before. Maybe we are like she claims. It makes sense.

“Firstable?” I ponder.

“It’s totes a word. Av and I use it, along with secondable, like you heard, and thirdable, fourthable, fifthable. We’re idiots, but we’re our own special brand of idiot.”

“No, I was asking about the first option, because I really want to hold you, kiss you, grab your ass, eat chocolate-covered cherries off of you—you know, the basics.”

“The basics?” she asks while laughing. “Seriously? Eating sweets off of me is considered a basic thing sex-wise? Oh, Brant, you’re funny.”

As she’s bending to place the pizza inside the oven, I do as I’ve been wanting to do for years. My hands reach for her and are grabbing her ass before she can stand back up. Mm, she feels incredible. Giving her a firm squeeze, I let out a loud moan. I’m in my own little world where everything is coming up roses—until it isn’t.

“Brant Ashley!” she exclaims, promptly bursting my happiness bubble.

“What are you doing? No one gave you permission to round the bases. We haven’t discussed anything beyond kissing. You can’t do things like grabbing my ass. It scares me, especially when my back is turned to you. In the future, warn me first before playing grabby hands. You know how fragile my trust in men is.”

Well, shit.

Fuck, shit, fucking shit. I’ve messed up big time. She’s probably going to throw me out of her house tonight, and I wouldn’t blame her one bit. I was following my instincts, forgetting about her fears entirely.

“Cherry, I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m beyond sorry. You’re correct. You’re one hundred percent correct. I didn’t think—I reacted. I’ve wanted to fill my palms with your ass since the night we met. Watching you dance during the concert was torture for me, and keeping my hands to myself these last couple of years has been agony.”

“I get it, I do. You’re forgiven, but for messing up, we actually are watching Netflix and eating pizza. Kissing may happen after a few episodes—maybe, if I’m feeling generous.”

Letting out the breath I was holding in a large exhale, I nod my confirmation. Her forgiveness is more than I deserve.

* * *

Two episodes later, I’m staring at her watching her favorite show. I’ll admit this show is decent; I’d probably give it a chance from the beginning. I wonder if she’s noticed how similar my eyes are to this Damon dude’s.

“Cherry?”

“Shh. Damon’s about to be left on the other side with Bonnie. I can’t talk now—don’t you see my tears?” she asks.

Looking at her more closely, I do indeed see the tracks of tears streaming down her face. There’s only candlelight illuminating the room, besides the soft glow of the TV, so it’s hard to see her tears, but they do glisten in the faint golden radiance.

“You’re beautiful, sweetheart,” I whisper, letting her continue watching the rest of the episode. I’ll admit it was a sad one. The lovers were left on opposite sides of some veil. One’s here, one’s in a death-like state? I don’t know. I’ll catch on eventually.

“Okay, I’m calling for a break. I can’t take another episode like that one,” she says while turning her body around to face me. Her legs reach out toward me on the couch, her back resting against the arm.

“Hm, what do you suggest we do?”

“Turn and put your legs up on the couch, Ace.”

Interesting.

She seems to be doing what she warned me she’d do: taking the reins as far as intimacy goes. I’m game.

Following her instructions, I turn and mimic her pose. “Okay, now what?” I ponder.

“You’ll see.”

The next thing I know, my lap is filled with her. She has one leg draped on one side, caught between my leg and the back of the couch. The other? It’s dangling over my other leg, pointing toward the floor, and oh…my…fuuuuuck. Her legging-covered sweet spot is pressing against my erection, right where I wanted her to be.

She starts rocking her hips in a circular motion, and I’m about to lose my damn mind.

“I have no complaints, none, but if you keep doing what you’re doing, I’m going to open my fly, drag your leggings down, and thrust up into you.”

She doesn’t answer, only continues to move her hips.

She’s driving me absolutely insane.

Reaching for her, I grasp her chin and pull her in close for a kiss.

Our teeth clang as I press my mouth firmly to hers. My tongue doesn’t ask for access, it demands it, and she opens her mouth on a moan. Our kiss turns rough, hot, burning. While I continue to fuck her mouth, I thrust my jean-clad boner up to meet her gyrating hips. The moan she lets out is swallowed by my mouth. We’re literally giving each other air.

I tear my mouth from hers, breaking away for a moment.

“Cherry?”

“Hm?” is her reply.

“I’m going to sink myself into you now unless you want to stop. This is your last warning.”

“Condoms, side table, hurry.”

Her lips seek mine again while she attempts to undo my zipper. I’m blindly reaching into said side table for a condom. If I came up empty-handed, I wouldn’t give a shit. She has my fly undone, her hand seeking out my cock while she presses my boxer briefs aside.

Fuck.

Add another fuck because I can’t find said condom.

“Sweetness?”

“Hm?”

“I hope you’re on the pill because I’m coming up empty on the condom front. I can’t take it another second—I must be inside you, now.”

“I have an implant, we’re golden,” she informs me.

With those words, I shift my jeans and briefs down a tad more, roughly tear her leggings down, and thrust up into bliss.

Holy. Shit.

She feels like heaven. Her slick canal feels perfect, like it was made for only me.

This is more than I imagined.

It’s everything.

Our moans are the lone sounds we make, our bodies finding a rhythm known only to us. Pressing a thumb to her clit, I massage it as her moans steadily get louder. I’m a handful of pumps away from blowing my load, but she has to let go before I do.

“Let it all go, Cherry. Concentrate on your pleasure and let go.”

My thumb presses harder, back and forth, rubbing her with more and more pressure. As she begins to crest, I can feel my orgasm in my toes. Thrusting up into her once more, I’m coming before I can give it a second thought. Her moans are as loud as my growl, letting me know she found her own bliss as I found mine.

She lays her head upon my shoulder, and we stay entwined in silence. We’re both trying to catch our breath.

“Mind…blowing,” she mumbles into my shoulder.

“Ditto, babe,” I reply.

Laughing, she lifts her head from my shoulder and looks down into my eyes, her gaze catching mine.

“Did you say, ‘ditto’?”

“Yep. Sure did. My brain is fried at the moment. Did you expect poetry and shit?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

A laugh bursts from my chest, and I feel the rumble go through her body and exit out her back. “Next time, I’ll come better prepared.” I place a soft kiss upon her cheek and stare into her cerulean depths.

“Huh, I’ve never noticed it before, but your eyes are a bit like Damon’s. Did you notice?”

“Yes, ma’am. I resemble your vampire boyfriend in the eye department—steely, icy, with spots of indigo.” His may be lighter in color, but mine shine with the love I feel for her.

“You do remind me of Damon, at least the dangerous parts of him. You’ve yet to see what he’s truly like. The Damon before Elena was a bit of an asshole, like you before me. The bad boy part of him is all you. Come to think of it, it’s why I pushed you away all the time—the danger I could feel radiating off you in waves. Now, I know why it’s there. It scares me but intrigues me at the same time.”

Wow. I’ve never viewed my so-called job through her eyes. It is dangerous, I’ve always known that; it’s why I pushed her away. It’s why I did all the stupid dickhead things I’ve ever done, not only to her, but to Rhys, Averill, my parents, whoever. Deep down I know I’m not a monster, but lately I’ve been feeling more and more like one. It scares the fuck out of me. I don’t want to become my father. It’s my biggest fear—other than Tessa getting hurt for her association with me.

“If you had to pick anywhere in the world for me to hide you, to get you away from these maniacs, where would you go?” I ask.

“Mystic Falls. My friends Damon and Stefan live there. They deal with crazy all the time. They’d keep me protected,” she informs me. All the while, a fat-ass smirk sits on her lips. 

“Cherrrry, a real place, not one where fictional vampires run around causing all sorts of disarray.” It’s like she doesn’t get how important it is she’s kept safe, maybe including safe from me. Sighing, I try another approach, though I know her answers won’t be what I need. She’ll want me to stay close to her. 

“Call Averill. The minute you can make arrangements to, ask to stay with them for a couple of weeks. Rhys will keep you safe. In fact, I’ll fly out a day after you and meet up with Rhys somewhere nearby. Our discussion is way overdue anyway. Add in Averill wanting this argument cleared up before the baby is born and that’s that. Why not start the ball rolling now?”

“Okay, I’m cool with option B. I’ll call Averill and stay with the Gallhagars for a while. But…a while means days, Ace, not months.”

“It’s a deal, love.”

It’ll keep her safely away from me, and now having had her, I’ll be able to stay firmly focused on what needs to be completed here without bringing danger to her doorstep…I hope.

In the days following, plans are formed, chess moves made.

And I hate every second of it.

It’s not like I don’t want to see Av and Rhys again, because I always miss them, but I don’t want to leave Brant behind. I’m holding Justin to his promise of safety. If he doesn’t keep my man safe, I’ll never forgive him, but I don’t want him to lay down his life for him either, like he suggested.

As the plan stands now, I’ll fly out this coming Wednesday, with Brant following on Thursday. He’ll attempt to smooth things over with Rhys—away from me, I might add—and then will fly back out here the following Sunday.

Alone.

Him leaving will hurt, in unexpected ways.

Of course, I had to tell Av he was here in order for her to know why I was coming to stay for a few days. She had to know Brant was sending me away from home. We’ve chosen to leave out the teeny tiny fact that we’re lovers. It seems like a face-to-face topic of conversation, not one to be revealed over the phone.

The one thing I am grateful this trip will bring to fruition? The possibility of things getting resolved between Rhys and Brant. They need to work out their differences, pronto. The more Rhys knows, the better.

Av was happy to hear I was planning an extended visit. I’m upset about leaving my baby in my employees’ hands, but it is what it is. Life hands you limes, make limeade. Yes, limes—I don’t care for lemons. Give me the green citrus.

It’s Tuesday, which means Ace is working and Justin is moving into my place. Sure…because that’s not obvious. And me? I’m hanging out near my pals. Having already fed Goa Goa, I’m now sitting near their habitat, reading, trying to find peace.

It’s not working, which is frustrating as fuck.

I feel like I’m being watched, but it has to just be paranoia setting in. It’s all in my head; no one’s watching me. I’m ridiculous to think otherwise.

Right?

Before I give it too much thought, I send off a quick text to Brant. Better safe than sorry and all that.

Waiting for his reply is pure agony. It’s not like he takes more than one minute to answer, but the hairs on the back of my neck have taken notice. My defenses are up, and all signs are pointing to someone actually watching me.

If it’s going to take more than fifteen minutes for him to get to me, I’m not staying on this bench—no way, Jose.

XO? Are we at the point in our relationship where he feels free enough to send me hugs and kisses? I’m sure we are, but we only started having sex like four days ago. Stop it, Tessa. Get the hell up and go to Goa Goa, to safety. Get up, get up, get up.

Grabbing my bag, my water, and my purse, I casually make my way to the access door and knock. Please answer quickly, Louie.

My prayers are answered. Louie swings open the door and pulls me inside.

“Your young man called me. He asked me to come and either sit by you or bring you to see our guy over there.”

“Brant called you?” Of course, it’s the first thing on my mind. I should be more concerned with this creepy feeling of being watched, but hell if I’m not curious as to how Brant managed to get Louie’s cell number. It’s not like it’s listed on the zoo’s website. “Never mind, don’t answer me. I should be thanking you. It’s probably my crazy brain playing tricks on me, but I’m thankful you’re working today.” When I’m done thanking him, I pull him in for a hug. He’s like the grandfather I don’t have, and I’ve come to care for Louie as if he’s a part of my family.

“You don’t have to thank me, girl. It’s my honor to keep you safe until your young man arrives, and I will answer your question. It’ll help keep your mind occupied until Brant gets here.” He motions to a seat near a bucket of leaf-eater biscuits. “Sit down, lovely girl.”

“Um, okay. Thanks?” Why did I question him—again? Can this embarrassing afternoon be over with already?

Chuckling softly, he does what I did a moment ago: sits.

“He has my number from when he sent you your stuffed panda. How he acquired it remains a mystery. Maybe he’ll tell us both once he’s here. Do you want to go in and sit with our boy for a few moments? Or would you rather stay and get to know this old man?” he asks.

“Actually, I’d love to know more about you, Louie.”

“Ask and I shall answer.”

“Isn’t it strange how we don’t know much about each other, yet I feel as if you’re a part of my family? Silly, huh?” I ask contemplatively.

“Not really. We’re in each other’s company enough. We know a few things, the important details anyway. The small things don’t matter much in the end—and by small things, I mean your waistline, what you’re going to have for dinner, what you’ll wear the next day, possessions. The things that truly matter are the whopping details, what’s inside, not the outside, but under the surface,” he says while a sweet smile spreads across his face and his eyes glisten with tears.

“You’re absolutely correct. Those details are insignificant. Life is made of moments, moments are memories, and memories are the measurable things life is all about. It’s not about who’s dating who, who’s wearing what, or who has the bigger dick.” Glancing up, I see his cheeks turn pink as he chuckles. Oh em gee, I just said dick to him. Fuck my life. “Um, sorry. I’ll clear up my colorful language.”

“Oh, I’m fine with it,” he says, but he’s lying. The blush still shading his cheeks tells me otherwise.

We’re interrupted by a loud banging on the door.

“That must be Brant,” I inform Louie.

“I’m going, I’m going. Old age has its pitfalls, you know? My walking slower is one of them.”

He truly is like the two older gentlemen in Grumpy Old Men. Who knew?

“Cherry, come with me. I have a few things to fill you in on. First things first, you were correct. You’re not delusional. Hurry up, walk with me while the coast’s clear.” Lifting a hand filled with money, he firmly presses it into Louie’s palm. “For your troubles.”

We leave the habitat like nothing’s happened without letting Louie respond to Brant shoving money at him. Our pace is brisk, and before I know it I’m belted into the passenger side of his truck.

“Is it safe for me to talk now?” I question.

Actually, I should get bonus points for listening to him and following along with his pace without a peep.

“Turn the radio up—loud. Get comfy and I’ll take you somewhere else. Then, we’ll talk,” he promises me.

I may be scared shitless at the moment, but I have complete faith in my man. He’ll always protect me.