CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Grant
My temper was edging toward evil as my first week in London flowed into the next. The embezzling went much deeper than the one employee, and I spent late nights with a forensic accountant sorting through the mess, then was forced to stay even longer to recruit and hire new candidates to fill the vacated positions.
But that wasn’t the only thing that had my temper on a hair trigger.
It was Journey, I knew.
The weekend had been a source of misery as I imagined another man’s hands on her. As sweet as she was, I couldn’t blame him. Hell, I couldn’t blame her. I’d practically shoved her in this man’s direction, practically told her to have fun.
And it was eating at me. And I hated it.
I didn’t like this feeling. Not in the least.
Over the past couple days, I’d pulled out my phone, intent on sending her a message that I couldn’t see her again. But my thumbs couldn’t type the words. Not only because it was damn cowardly to not have this conversation with someone face-to-face, but because I didn’t want to let her go.
Yet.
Not yet, I qualified.
“Mr. Sommerfield?” I looked up and nodded to Janine, my personal assistant in the London division. She gave me an apologetic smile. “Your next interview is here.”
Over the next several hours, I went through the motions. Asked the right questions, took down the right notes. But my heart wasn’t in it, and my focus and concentration were shit. Even so, I was impressed with the woman before me. Impressed with her firm hand shake and her confident answer to my every question. Before she left, I knew she was the one, and informed HR to begin arranging an offer.
Mentally checking all of those details off my list, my mind went back to light blue eyes and freckles. She was like a ghost who followed me around.
I’d come close to calling Nash, needing someone to talk everything through with, but I’d immediately shot that entire idea down. He would laugh his ass off at me. Not just laugh but point and laugh. Grant Sommerfield, pussy whipped. I could already see him saying those words with glee.
I could call Luna. As my surrogate mother, she’d give me her rock-solid advice. But the timing was bad, I knew. When I talked to Nash last week, he told me about her ideas for a new tour and how he would be spending a lot of time in Tennessee. It was funny. Ever since we’d become roommates again, I’d seen him less than ever before.
But life was like that. It ebbed and flowed. You just had to flow with it.
I thought of all the other people in my life. There was Wayne, the man who had quickly become my right hand. I kept asking him to become a bigger part of my company, but he refused. He was happy behind the wheel. Happy knowing that he could turn left or right and arrive at a known destination. After the combat he experienced, I guessed knowing what you were heading into was a good thing.
My thumb flipped through my contacts. There were hundreds scrolling by. And not one of them that I’d feel comfortable talking to about this.
I thought of Jasmine. She might be what people labeled as disabled, but I knew the girl would tell me like she saw it. She was someone else I missed. I hoped she was having fun at camp. I’d actually researched the place, wanting to make sure it was safe for Journey’s sister, and had been relieved when it looked so good.
I’d also started the process of buying the building that Journey’s elderly patient lived in. I’d been incensed when I got the reports about the conditions of the building and made the offer right away. When the deal closed, I’d restore it to its former glory and make it safer for the elderly residents, of which there were many, to get in and out.
Checking the time, I scrolled to Journey’s name. It would be a little after noon, New York time, and I might be able to catch her after she left the nursing home.
I grimaced. I knew her schedule as well as I knew my own.
Before I could second guess myself again, I pressed the call button. If she could answer, she would. If she couldn’t, she wouldn’t. But I’d at least get to hear her voice when her voice mail clicked on.
I covered my face with my hand. I was behaving like a love-sick idiot.
The line rang once, twice, three times, four. I was about to hang up, refusing to sink so low as to actually, pathetically, pine away at the sound of her voice.
“Hey you.”
Damn. With two small words spoken an ocean away, I was smiling like a fool.
“Hey. Is this a bad time?”
I could hear traffic in the background. The beep of horns. “Your timing is perfect, actually. I just left the nursing home and have a whole twenty minutes left before my first home health appointment.”
There was a crunch, then chewing sounds. “Let me guess. Lunch is an… apple.”
She laughed. “Sorry. It’s an eat and run kind of day.”
I could take her away from all that.
I could offer her chaise lounges and bon bons if she wished. I could pay for her school if she still wanted to go and she wouldn’t have to work to support herself.
I could do that.
But that would mean I’d be responsible for her happiness for at least a couple of years. She would come to rely on me… and I’d come to rely on her, I knew.
I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t get involved any more than I currently was.
If I fell harder… and then lost her…
I touched my scar as gorge bubbled in my throat.
“Miss me?”
She said it with such a teasing voice that I was jerked away from the memories of that painful day. The day I lost everything and nearly lost my mind in the process.
I cleared my throat. “Actually, I sort of do. And I wanted to let you know that I just made an offer to a new head of this office and will be flying back to New York in the next day or two.”
Her voice was warm. “That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to see you again.”
“Friday. How about I pick you up around seven?”
“That sounds terrific but…”
I closed my eyes. She was getting ready to tell me that she already had plans with the other man.
“I need to get up super early on Saturday. It’s the art festival at the park for the nursing home residents. I’m really nervous, so if I’m jittery Friday night, that’ll be why.”
Journey had spoken several times of the festival, and I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten that it was this weekend. “Did Dorothy give you any grief today?” She’d told me about that hateful old woman too, making me laugh at everything she said. I actually loved hearing her stories and looked forward to them when we talked.
Journey was so… normal.
“No!” she said with a laugh. “And do you want to know why?”
I grinned. “Why?”
“Because she’s hooking up with Mr. Carl!”
I laughed. “The nursing home stud and the nursing home witch are hooking up? That’s hilarious.”
“I know! The bonus is that Miss Dorothy is actually smiling now. She smiled today. A real smile. Not an I’m bearing my fangs at you smile either.”
I laughed so loud that I had to cover my mouth or else Janine would be coming in to check on me. She’d probably think I was having a seizure.
“How are Miss Madge and Mr. Earl doing?”
Journey’s exhalation caused static to rattle over the line. “They broke up.”
I was actually a little sad to hear that. “That’s too bad.”
Journey giggled, and it was a joyous little sound. “Want to know why?”
I groaned. “I’m not sure if I do.”
“Well, you’re going to hear it anyway. Miss Alpha told me that they broke up because Miss Madge wanted a threesome and Mr. Earl wouldn’t even consider it.”
I clapped my hand over my mouth again. “You are kidding me. How old are they again?”
“Early eighties.”
“Well, I hope I’m still so sexual when I’m that age.”
She laughed. “I know. It’s kind of icky, but it also is just so wonderful that they enjoy life like that.”
“So… did Miss Alpha say if Miss Madge was wanting a man or a woman to join their ménage?”
“Hmm… no, she didn’t.” She laughed. “She was probably wanting Mr. Carl, the stud that he is.”
My cock pulsed. Not from the thoughts of elderly ménage à trois, but because of the mental picture I had of Journey in that situation.
“So… if you had an offer for a threesome, would you want it to be with two men and you, or you, a man, and another woman?”
Another crunch. Chewing noises. I waited patiently for her to answer.
“Two men, I think.”
My cock stiffened. “Why?”
Her voice was small. “I think it would be more comfortable for me that way. I know what to do with a man. I wouldn’t know what to do with a woman. And I’m not sure I could… um, you know…”
“Go down on her?”
God. My cock was rock hard in an instant.
“Yeah. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with that,” she hurried to explain. “Love is love and all that. I just don’t know if I could reciprocate.”
I adjusted myself. “But you’d like two cocks inside you?”
I heard her lick her lips. “I don’t know.”
“Have you had anal sex before?”
There was a sharp intake of air. “No.”
“But you’ve thought about it?”
Her voice was small. “Yes.”
“Are you worried about it hurting?”
Another small answer. “Yes.”
I closed my eyes, imagined watching my cock pop past that tight ring of muscle for the first time. “Do you trust me?”
There was no hesitation. “Yes.”
I imagined her ass closing around me like an iron vice while I stroked her back, a hand circling around her to massage her clit. “I want to show you how it feels. Can I do that one day?”
Her breath shuddered out of her. “Yes. I want to know. I want to be open to new experiences while I can. But not Friday, okay? I need to be on my feet at the festival Saturday, not walking around like I had a pole shoved up my you know where.”
I chuckled. “Fair enough. But soon.” I stroked myself through my pants. “I like giving you new experiences.” And I wanted to be the first in that virgin territory. Wanted it badly, but I would wait.
“I like them too. I… think about them often.”
I stroked myself again. “Do you touch yourself while you think of them?”
Her voice was heavy, breathless. Good. “Yes.”
“I’m glad, Journey. I touch myself too when I think of you. I’m touching myself now, imagining it’s your body.”
What the hell? I’d never had phone sex in my life, and here I was, acting like a school boy.
A horn beeped in the background and Journey yelped, then she laughed, a loud, boisterous sound that reminded me of Luna. “Oh my god, that car nearly scared me to death. We’ve got to stop. You nearly have me humping this wall.” There was a smacking sound, then a muffled, “I can’t believe I just said that.”
It was my turn to laugh, and the spell was broken. Besides, she needed to get to work.
“I’ll let you go so you can get on with your day. But tonight… touch yourself and think of me.”
I disconnected before she could come up with a witty reply. A minute later, my phone pinged. I checked the screen.
Journey: I’ll be wishing my fingers are yours.
Damn. This girl was seriously going to kill me.