chapter
Twenty-seven
Once upon a time, Chaz and I had a huge fight over the he said/she said between Jacqueline and his best friend, Buck. Buck had assaulted her and then spread rumors about her, trying to make it look consensual. I told Chaz the truth, expecting him to believe me immediately. But believing me turned Buck into a monster, and Chaz had a hard time reconciling that image with his best friend. I’d broken up with him.
At the next party we were both attending, I’d gone all out to make him wretched. I wore a short, shimmery, body-hugging dress and the highest heels I could manage. I flirted with everyone but him. My spiteful plan worked. I’d made him miserably aware that he’d made a very bad choice. After a lot of groveling on his part, we’d gotten back together, and a year later, he’d proposed.
Now the memory of that night of revenge only added to my remorse over everything to do with him.
When I walked through the door of Rhys’s apartment, the shoe was on the other foot. It only took me seconds to locate Isaac, tall and handsome, wearing the violet shirt I hadn’t seen in a month, standing with Rhys, Kurt, and Madison. Mindi ran up to welcome me, and I focused on her. Her wavy blond hair was adorned with a headband proclaiming 2015! in green glitter, and her teal dress made her green eyes shine. Or maybe her eyes were glowing because of Rhys.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” She hung my long sweater and called, “Rhys! Erin is here!”
For half a second, I was worried that she’d tricked me into a surprise birthday party, but I was relatively sure no one knew it was today. Having a birthday six days after Christmas and on New Year’s Eve had been a blessing and a curse all my life. I've kept it off social media.
I followed her toward Rhys—and Isaac, whose eyes had lighted on me in the same moment I’d spotted him among two dozen partiers. He hadn’t looked away yet. It was a chore not to stumble, and I never stumbled. I was runway model skilled in heels.
The volume on the music decreased, and Rhys put his hands in the air and said, “Excuse me, everyone!”
Mindi moved to stand next to him, hands folded in front of her. If she’d been a painting, her title would have been Demure Girl with Secret.
He slid his arm around her. “You’re all here now, and my little brother can’t keep his lips buttoned another second, so I have an announcement and then everyone can go back to dancing and drinking.”
“WOOOO!” Kurt hollered. Madison punched him in the arm. “Oww.”
Rhys looked down at Mindi. “Christmas morning, in front of her family, I asked this beautiful girl to marry me.”
Gasps and squeals started up all around us, and Kurt WOOOOed again.
I watched Mindi’s face. As Rhys removed something from his front pocket and slid it onto her finger, she beamed up at him. Then she held her left hand up and so everyone could see what her answer had been. Rhys pulled her close, angled her back over his arm, and kissed her, and it was the most disgustingly romantic thing I’d ever seen in my life. When they surfaced, she was crying, his eyes were glassy, and everyone in the room looked like we were standing in an onion-cutting factory.
They were mobbed, Mindi accepting tearful, bouncing embraces and demands to see the ring, and Rhys shaking hands and hugging everyone. Boone popped champagne and started filling glasses. I congratulated them both and accepted a flute of bubbles two hours before the new year began, and when I looked for Isaac—because I couldn’t help looking for him—he was making his way through the crowd to me.
“Hey,” he said.
I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t have an excuse, so I clinked my glass to his. “Hey, yourself.”
“How are you?”
I took a sip. “Today was my last day at JMCH.” I had so many things to celebrate.
His brows rose. “Oh? What are your plans from here?”
“I’ve signed up for an online prep course before I tackle the GRE. I’ll choose graduate programs based on my scores and then write essays and gather recommendation letters. I’ll figure it out. It’s time I get back on track.”
His mouth tipped up on the sides. “That’s great.”
“What you said—that I was meant to do it? I needed that. I’ve known for years what I wanted to be when I grew up.” He answered my wry smile with one of his own. “But the reminder, the encouragement, reinforced that awareness. Thank you for that.”
He nodded once. “You’re welcome.”
We sipped champagne, the party swirling happily around us.
“Isaac. I don’t work for you anymore. And you don’t work for my father.”
“That’s true.”
I wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him. Instead, I tried to telepathically remind him of the words he’d thrown down two months ago, right before telling me it was impossible for reasons that no longer existed. You want me to fuck you.
He blinked. “Are you saying you want to come home with me, Erin?”
I had never wanted anyone like this. I ached with it. Remain calm. “Yes.”
He took another sip of his champagne, and I watched his throat swallow it down. “We should probably be good guests and wait until after midnight.”
I nodded, cheering internally.
Two agonizing hours of invisible public foreplay later—a firm hand at the small of my back here, the slow brush of a fingertip at my wrist there—we were in his car. I was of a mind to start there, but Isaac, as usual, was in control of his desires. He had kissed me at midnight, quick but deep, and the familiar heaviness settled between my legs and refused to budge until satiated.
The short drive felt like hours. We parked, and he took my hand as we walked to the elevator. I wanted to make out all the way to the eighth floor, but an older couple, covered in glittery confetti, called, “Hold the door!” She smiled at our grasped hands as he pressed the seven. In their eyes, we were just another couple returning home from a party. I smiled back, wanting to dismiss the thick, dull ache in my chest. I loved Isaac so much, but I would always be the Capulet to his Montague.
Once inside the apartment, he locked the bolt and turned to drag the sweater from my shoulders. The whisper-touch of his fingertips lit a path of goose bumps in their wake and my stomach fluttered.
I was nervous. Maybe because it’s been almost a year since you’ve gotten some? my brain suggested. I stuffed a sock in the internal dialogue. “You’re moving, I guess.” That wasn’t a difficult observation; boxes were stacked everywhere.
“My lease is up, so I thought I’d move in with my aunt until I know where I’m going. Most of this is going into storage though.” He hung my sweater, shrugged out of his jacket, and placed it on the hook where Pete’s leash had once hung.
“Where’s Pete?”
“I took him over earlier today. Moving on Friday.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t known how much I wanted to see his dog.
He stared down at me, weighing his words. I’d missed his pensiveness. His restraint. The care he took before every word, every step.
“I’ve applied to a few urban studies programs, but they all start next fall. I haven’t heard back from any of them yet. I figure I’ll be in limbo for a few months at least. Thought maybe I’d travel a bit in the interim.”
“Oh?”
“Nothing fancy. Pack up the car and go hike some national parks. Visit a few cities I’ve always wanted to explore. Camp out on beaches I’ve never seen.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Does it?”
“Yes.”
Another excruciating pause. “Wanna come with?”
I lost my breath, looking at him. I was dreaming. I had to be dreaming. Isaac never said what he didn’t mean. “You’re asking me to come with you on your adventure?” Dammit, I was tearing up again. I wanted to laugh with this man, not blubber like a child every time he said or did something that moved my heart.
We’d drawn closer, magnets shivering with the need to touch and snap together. He slid his arms around me, hands smoothing over my hips to cup my bottom and drag me up his hard body to his lovely mouth.
“Say yes,” he said against my lips.
“Yes.” I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he kissed me. Shadows shifted across my closed lids as he walked us from the bright entryway to his darkened bedroom.
He sat me on the edge of his bed and knelt at my feet, sliding the zipper of my heeled boot down slowly, grasping my calf in his warm hand to pull it off, and then repeating the process with the other boot. He stood and toed his shoes off, loosened his tie enough to pull it over his head, and began sliding buttons through buttonholes at a maddeningly slow pace. Cuff links clinked into a small dish on his dresser, and he shrugged the shirt off his broad shoulders and down his arms.
Taking my hands, he drew me up. There was fire in his eyes now, and a promise to make me feel it before we were done. He placed my hands on his bare chest, where they looked small and pale. My freckles, my personal all-over constellations, matched the deep sepia tone of his skin. I felt the drum of his heart beneath my right palm. His fingers grazed from my wrists to my shoulders, over and behind.
“Happy birthday, by the way. Although I guess technically I missed it.”
“How did you know?”
“I’m your boss.” His smirk was downright devilish. “I know everything about you.”
His words cued my favorite fantasy to power up. I switched it off. I wouldn’t need it tonight. “You were my boss.”
He pinched the tiny hook at the top of my dress’s zipper before drawing it down. His eyes didn’t leave mine until the fabric began to part and slip down to pool at my feet. Every tiny hair on my body rose and strained toward him as his eyes took a leisurely perusal from my collarbones to my ankles and back. The strapless bra and panties I’d chosen were lacy and red beneath my understated charcoal-gray dress.
“Mmm.” His voice was a resonant hum, echoing through my body. “Red is my favorite color.”
“Is it?” I twisted my arms behind my back and unhooked the bra. Let it fall.
He reached to pull his fingers through my hair and brought a long copper strand to loop over my chest and curve around my breast. “It’s been my favorite color since the day you walked into the lobby of JMCH, hair like flame, body like a besetting sin, there to wreck my plans and turn my life upside down.”
The ends of my hair tickled my nipple, and it quivered and hardened. He brushed a fingertip over the other, and it responded in kind.
I gasped, hands kneading his chest like a kitten. “I didn’t know.”
One side of his mouth turned up. “That’s what slayed me.”
I bit my lip. “I wanted you immediately.”
He angled a brow. “I was a total asshole to you. On purpose.”
“Which made me kinda pissed with myself for wanting you anyway.”
He unbuckled his belt, unfastened his slacks, and pushed them down. My hands began to slide down his solid, muscled torso. His skin was smooth but for the soft trail of hair leading into his dark boxer briefs. I stroked my fingers over him and he groaned, picked me up, and laid me down in the center of his bed after sweeping the covers to the floor. Bracing himself over me, one leg between mine, he said, “You sure about this?”
I nodded but said, “I have a confession.”
His brows rose, one a little higher than the other. “Hmm?”
“I’ve been inventing fantasies about us. Dirty, dirty fantasies. In my office, over my desk. In your office chair. In this bed. In mine.”
His brows lowered and his eyes went black, pupils dilating. “Jesus Christ, woman.”
“You were wrong. I only wanted you. No one else.” I licked my lip and he stared at it. “But you were right that I was horny.”
“Are you still?”
“Worse.”
He pressed his thigh between my legs. “Let’s take care of that.”
I should have known, or maybe I did, that Isaac would be unhurried, even here. Taking his time was his defining characteristic, and I knew there was nothing I could do or say to convince him to do any blessed thing until he was ready to do it. He sat back, hooked his fingers in the lace at my hips, and drew my panties down. When he stood, his rapt gaze swept over my body, careful and deliberate. My hands grabbed handfuls of his sheets on either side of my hips, legs moving restlessly.
He shoved his underwear to the ground, removed a condom from the drawer of his night table, and rolled it on. He was big and strong and, for tonight, all mine. No man had ever moved so slowly over me or kissed me so thoroughly, tongue making languid promises, fingers teasing and checking my readiness as his thumb circled my clit with gentle skill.
“Yes, yes, please,” I begged, not that it hastened him along.
I dug my fingers into his biceps and whispered into his ear. “I had my first fantasy about you before going to sleep on your couch after you kissed me. I imagined you stalking into my office and shutting the door behind you. I turned my face into the pillow so you wouldn’t hear me when I made myself come.”
He choked back a strangled, un-Isaac-like roar, rocked forward, and filled me. I came before the third stroke, but oh my God, he slid a hand beneath my thigh, tilting me at the precise angle to make the aftershocks go on forever.
Somewhere during all that, I was aware of the rigid muscles of his arms tightening, expanding, shaking with effort. I was aware of him surging harder and deeper, aware of his low moan of release. I was glad for all of it, because I’d been too blissed out to have consciously helped it along. For several minutes, we lay side by side, facing the ceiling and panting, waiting for our heart rates to return to normal.
His weight left the bed and came back a moment later. He pulled the comforter over us and tugged me into the circle of his arms. I still felt like a bowl full of wobbly noodles. I couldn’t imagine how he’d managed to walk.
“That was quicker than I intended,” he said, almost to himself.
I snorted into his shoulder. “I think if you’d have gone any slower, I’d have expired from anticipation.” I turned my head up. I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell from the position of his chin that he was smirking.
“That’s not a thing.”
“How do you know? I swear I almost died back there.” I snuggled against him. “Please do it again after I rest for a few minutes.” I yawned, eyes closed, warm and drowsy.
I’d almost drifted to sleep when he asked, “Did you really do that? On my sofa?”
I leaned to kiss the spot at the edge of his jaw, exactly where that little muscle tic showed up when he was cross with me. “Twice.”
His whole body constricted and he covered his face with his other hand. “You. Are. Gonna. Kill. Me.” His cock sprang up a little against my thigh and I giggled.
“Oh, look. Someone’s horny, and it’s not me this time.” I reached between us and wrapped my hand around him, gratified by his answering moan and how he went from partially erect to raring to go. To hell with sleep. I was a kid in a toy store with a wagon full of allowance money. I leaned up on my elbow, my hair tumbling over my shoulders to pool on his chest.
I crept lower as he breathed deeply, letting me lead, probably doing math in his head to help prolong the moment and see where I was going with it. The thought of math brought another memory. “Mr. Maat, I love your slide rule.”
“Oh God.” He laughed quietly, abs tightening beneath my mouth.
“Will you teach me how you do those precise calculations now?”
He swept a firm, gentle hand from my waist to my breast, stroking, circling, pinching gently. All my Isaac fantasies scurried in malfunctioning circles, crashing into each other and going up in smoke. “As to not being horny. You were saying?”
I moaned and mumbled something incoherent.
“C’mere.” He took hold of my upper arms and towed me back up. “I wanna tell you something.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, and I waited for the question or comment he was mulling over before voicing it.
“That sounds serious.” I chewed my lip. I wasn’t an expert at waiting yet.
“I’m in love with you, you know.”
I had not known, or even suspected. “You love me? How? When?”
He exhaled a deep breath, as though he’d been holding it in for a very long time. “You dismantled me piece by piece, I think. When you asked me why I said your name like you were a Capulet and I was a Montague, that was when I knew. I fell asleep brooding over the aptness of My only love sprung from my only hate. I was furious with myself. How the hell could I fall in love with the daughter of a man I saw as my enemy? I said horrible things to you the next day. I apologize.”
“I said worse, completely untrue, things to you.”
His fingers caressed my face, inches from his. Our bodies were pressed together, two complementary puzzle pieces who’d found each other in this big wide world.
“I love you too. And I’m sorry for saying those mean things.”
“None of that matters now. There will be no poison draughts or daggers in our futures. Our stars are aligned, not crossed. And in case you’re ever unsure, I can’t hate the name McIntyre anymore. You’ve ruined that for me, or maybe helped fix it. That means you can’t hate it either.”
“It may take me a little while.”
“Maybe someday you’ll change it out for something else.”
“Maybe. But only if I don’t have to change my initials.”
He chuckled, dark lashes sweeping down and back up. “That your line in the sand?”
“I’m afraid so. I have a truly shocking amount of monogrammed things and as a practical grad student, I can’t afford to be wasteful.”
“I think I can work with that, Ms. McIntyre.”
“I’m sure you can, Mr. Maat.”