The streets and highways are pretty empty, and it takes no time at all to reach my part of the suburbs, a small part of the city that seems to be in its own time warp of 1950s charm and character. We drive past Pete’s diner, Milly’s cafe, the independent cinema, a pizzeria, and a Deidra’s Hair Salon and Nail Bar. Joel slows right down to cross the train track that runs right through the centre of the town, splitting the main street in two. The sleek low profile tyres rumble over the lines, rattling the loose change in my jacket pocket and spilling the open can of soda in Joel’s very new smelling Maserati Gran Turismo. I use the cuff of my sweater to mop up the mess and mouth my apology.
He rolls his eyes playfully and nods toward my side of the street. “This is a cute town.”
“I like it.”
“I assumed you still lived in your sister’s apartment?”
“I moved when I had Ruby. The schools are great here, and I didn’t want to raise her in a city.”
“That’s understandable. Still I’m surprised you could afford to buy out here, or is the daddy loaded, or did your sister come good in the end and leave you all her money?” He raises a brow as if his sarcastic tone wasn’t thick enough to labour the point. I sniff and let out a humourless laugh.
“I will always believe that everyone deserves a second chance. Raleigh had hers and a third for that matter. She may have been a cold-hearted gold digger, but she never quite got the payoff. What money she had was used to pay the massive debts she racked up pretending to be someone she wasn’t.”
“She was a conniving bitch, but I guess gold digger is a better way to speak of the dead.” He may be spot on but quickly tries to soften his acute assessment when I fall silent. ”Sorry, that was out of line.”
“We weren’t close. ” I say after a while. Even if he already knows this, it was worth repeating. Raleigh and I couldn’t have been more different and if we hadn’t shared the same womb, I would question whether she was my sister let alone my twin.
Her death was sudden, shocking, and left more than a scar or two. “She did do one good thing in her selfish life that I am grateful for. Because of that, I can forgive her for every other shitty thing she did.”
“I’d struggle to find one thing, so I’m going to take your word for that.” He turns off the main high street and crawls slowly over the speed bumps along my road. “You know she tried to fuck me at your cousin’s wedding?” he states. Although I didn’t know this particular incident, it really isn’t a surprise. “She cornered me in the Men’s washrooms of the hotel and told me she’d never tell. She was one crazy bitch.”
“She did have a thing for…my things.” I can feel the bile in my stomach swill. She took so much from me, but at least with this confession, I know she didn’t succeed in taking Joel. “Here we are.” I announce before I’m bombarded with memories I’ve spent a long time suppressing. He pulls the car to a slow stop in front of my small apartment building. “And I rent this place. You’ve seen my car. I can’t afford shit.”
“Can I come in for coffee?” He asks.
“It’s late, Joel.” I shake my head at the presumption I’d believe a line like that.
“That’s why I need a coffee, for the drive back,” he adds flatly, and I instantly feel like jerk for assuming something more was meant.
“Fine, but just coffee.”
“Would you just keep it in your pants for five minutes, Regan, of course just coffee.” He flashes me a look as if butter wouldn’t melt before he jumps from the car and walks around to open my door.
I roll my eyes and let out a chuckle. I’d forgotten what a gentleman he can be, and his grin is so damn adorable. That, I admonish myself, is the problem. Well, one of them.
My apartment is on the third floor, and with no lift, I can feel his eyes burning a hole through my pants on each and every step up to my door. His comment when we reach the top confirms my suspicion.
“God, you’ve got a great ass. I want to drag my tongue—” The door opens before I can get my key out, and I am super grateful for Bobbie’s timely interruption. I scowl at Joel and smile apologetically at Bobbie.
“I’m so sorry, Bobbie.” I give Bobbie a quick, tight hug, trying to ignore the fact that her jaw is dragging comically on my doormat. Her dark brown eyes are like saucers. Fortunately, at fifteen years of age, I know she’s safe from Joel, at least for a few years. It’s one of his absolute hard limits, which I found surprising, since the man has dubious morals when it comes to most sexual activities. From our brief relationship, I certainly felt nothing was off the table, and that included sleeping with my close friend and her mum at the same time just days after we broke up. “This is Joel, a colleague from work.”
“Pleasure to meet you. Bobbie, is it?” Joel offers his hand with effusive charm, and Bobbie’s smile couldn’t be any wider if she had a flip-top head. “And more than colleague, Regan. Tonight I was your knight in shining armour. Regan’s car was broken into—”
“I did explain that when I called, Joel.” I cut his boastful narrative short—like the man needs any more unsolicited adoration.
“You called? When?”
“I’m nearly three hours late. Of course I called. Jeeze, for a smart doctor, you can be a real dumbass.” I start to ease off my heavy winter overcoat and get stuck in the cuffs. The drastic change in temperature from outside to inside my apartment makes me suddenly too hot, claustrophobic even, as I struggle to get free. Joel yanks the coat from my arms in one swift jerk, and a sinful grin spreads wide and wicked across his face.
“See how quickly I can get you out of your clothes, Reggie.” He wiggles his brow, and where my jaw drops open with mortification, Bobbie slams hers shut, her hand holding back a fit of giggles.
“You want me to stay and help with…” She snickers, and I smirk and bask in the awkward silence when she fails to come up with any reason whatsoever to stay, other than to gawk at Joel.
“Help with…?” I suppress my amusement with a wry smile and decide to help the poor girl out when her light mocha skin pinks right up. “I’m good, thank you, Bobbie. Just going to make Joel a quick coffee and then I’m hitting the sack.”
“I don’t blame you.” She sighs and then looks horrified that she said that out loud. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.” She rushes to backtrack, her cheeks a deeper shade of red, and her feet shuffling further out of the door. “I meant Ruby was so excited she’ll probably be awake any minute.”
“If it’s anything like last year.” I grimace at the thought of a 3 a.m. wake-up call.
She leans over to my ear and whispers, “You know I meant help with Ruby, right?”
“Yes, Bobbie, I know what you meant.” I laugh, and she exhales loudly with obvious relief.
“Oh, good. Well, bye, Regan, and Merry Christmas!” She gives an enthusiastic little wave. I hold my hand to halt her hasty escape.
“Merry Christmas! Bobbie, wait! Here, have this; your present was in the car, so take this token for now. I’ll get a replacement just as soon as.” I fish some notes from my purse and hand them to her. She starts to shake her head, but I force the three twenties into her curled up fist. It’s more money than I can afford, but she and her mother have been lifesavers on way too many occasions, and I know she’s trying to save to go to college.
I close the door and have to squeeze past Joel to get to my tiny kitchen. He fills the space, his broad shoulders nearly as wide as my narrow hallway, and I get a strange flutter in my tummy when he shucks his jacket and hangs it on the coat hook next to mine, like he’s done a hundred times before. He falls into step behind me, not that it takes more than two of his long strides before I come to a halt, and he is pressed against my back.
“Take a seat, and I’ll fix you that drink.”
“The drink, riiiiight.” His strong hands rest steady on my shoulders, confident and sure. His lips are on my neck, and damned if I’m not wishing I’d done some yoga stretches to give him better access. I lean enough, though. There’s no misunderstanding that I like what he’s doing. I let out a shameless sigh, and my hand flies to his hair, gripping tight in case he has the inclination to move away or worse, stop.
“Please stop, Joel.” I know exactly what I’m saying? I pinch my mouth shut and mentally calm myself as my heart rate rockets. I know this game. I’ve missed this game. Briefly torn between the devil and the deep blue sea, I know I shouldn’t go here again, but this feels so good, and when do I ever get to feel this good? When do I get to do something just for me for purely selfish reasons? Like surrendering to a sinfully sexy man who actually knows what he’s doing. I mean, apart from the other mind-blowing trysts today, the answer is a resounding never.
“No,” His deep gravelly voice rakes along my skin, just like the stubble on his chiselled jaw, as he peppers perfect kisses from my shoulder to just below my ear. His response is firm and final, yet he continues, and this is where this situation is so very different from when we were together. He’s checking that we’re on the same page, even though he must feel the need in me rolling off my wanton body is seismic waves. He coaxes. “Come on, Reggie, you know how good it is between us. Why deny that? I’ll even do that one thing you love.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down.” I sigh and whimper when his lips wrap my delicate lobe, and he sucks hard, his teeth hold the edge hostage when he speaks.
“Oh, wow, was that a compliment?” He releases the soft flesh and continues to bite, nibble and suck at every inch of exposed skin he can get to, tugging at the collar of my t-shirt over my shoulder to give himself more skin to devour.
“Don’t ruin it and let it go to that big head of yours.” I shiver when he chuckles, letting a wash of cool air skim my scorching skin.
“Never. I’m just a little stunned. I didn’t think I did anything good in your book.” He speaks against my skin; his lips tantalise with every word uttered.
“Oh, you do plenty of good things. They are just overshadowed by all the asshole things.” I mutter.
“A fair observation.” He bites down, searing pain and lust shoot a raging ball of molten heat and desire straight between my legs. I’m not sure how I’m managing to keep my voice so level when every part of me is quaking. Still, I’m sufficiently intrigued to ask.
“What one thing were you talking about?”
“I’ll tell you, if you tell what other things.”
“Now you’re just fishing for compliments. I may stroke your cock, but I’m not about to stroke you fucking ego. Your choice, Joel.” The chill that is about to settle over our interaction is incinerated when he doesn’t hesitate to tell me.
“I’ll choke you.”
“Oh, God.”
Nail on the head.
My knees actually wobble, and the heat pooling between my legs makes me squirm in my panty-less attempt to contain the trickle. This is the single most erotic thing he does, for me, at least. There’s a litany of things he does that make me come like a fucking train—the man has mad skills in the sack—and the last thing he needs is me to tell him what those are. He knows, of course he knows, still this one I don’t mind sharing because this one is the bomb.
It’s something you can only do with someone you completely trust, and as much as he is a class A asshole, I do trust him.
Seven years ago, he led me willingly to the kinky side, and I thrived and blossomed in the darkness with him. I’ve just not found anyone else hiding in there since Joel. The rare occasion I have let someone in my bed it’s been distinctly lacklustre and disappointingly vanilla. The one time I did feel comfortable with an ‘almost’ boyfriend, I mentioned… um, would he mind strangling me just a little, and he paled so much, I thought I would have to administer CPR.
“I love it when you call me that.” He scoops me into his arms, and all my reservations and sanity are left in a liquid puddle of desire on my kitchen floor. His lips are on mine before I can call him an egotistical ass. His tongue takes control of my mouth with erotic precision, twisting and diving deep, dominating and tangling with mine, demanding my compliance.
I point when he pauses in the small hallway. There are only three doors, and the bathroom has a frosted glass panel. Still, I’m glad he didn’t take a guess. No mood killer greater than a five-year-old hyped on Christmas spirit and refusing to go back to sleep. He pushes my bedroom door wide, just catching the edge before it slams into the wall. We both release a breath, and my wide eyes are enough of a warning that he has the grace to look sheepish when he mouths an apology.
“No need for apologies. Just know if we wake her, this ends with you hiding under my bed until her afternoon nap.”
“I’d kinda like to meet her.”
“This isn’t happy families, Joel. This is uncomplicated kinky-as-all-fuck sex, and don’t pretend you want it to be any different.”
“That’s what I like about you, Regan. You tell it like it is, yet have not a clue what you’re talking about.” He carefully places me on my feet, a dark frown masking his perfect features. His hazel gold eyes pierce mine, and even in the darkness, I can feel the intensity.
What the hell is he talking about?