CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Journey
My dreams were vivid and erotic again, and I woke Sunday morning feeling both satisfied and needy at once. It was like I’d physically climaxed during the night — had I? — but needed more. Needed so much more.
The memory of Nash’s mouth on me caused me to roll onto my side and pull a pillow to my chest. That mouth. Tongue. Fingers. It was magic.
The last guy I dated went down on me in his dorm room, but it had been an uncomfortable affair involving a lot of flicking and jabbing of tongue. It felt good at first, but after a minute or so, everything south of my naval went numb.
He didn’t last long. Literally and figurately.
Poke. Poke. Grunt.
And it was over.
I’d always heard that college men were in their sexual prime, but damn, if that was prime… geesh. It was those experiences that didn’t make dating worth the bother. And with Jaz and Mee-maw in such close quarters, I couldn’t exactly take care of any sexual longings myself. So it was just better to shut it all down, hang a “closed” sign on my underwear.
But my vagina wasn’t out of order now. That girl had stirred to life something fierce. If it had been a lioness, it would roar.
I smiled at the mental image and picked up my phone, pulling it off the charger. There was a text message.
Nash: Last night was fun, my delicious girl. I’ll pick you up Friday at five. Tiny bikini mandatory. Other clothes optional.
I curled into a ball, then stretched and began to type.
Me: Hmm… I have one pressing question. Should I expect boxers or briefs on you? Or speedos?
Nash: Speedos of course. Leather. With sequins.
I laughed and curled into a ball again.
Me: Fancy. No neon lights?
Nash: They short out in the water. Quite frightening to Godzilla.
I snorted.
Me: Godzilla? Think much of yourself, huh?
Nash: I just call ‘em like I see ‘em. I’ll introduce you Friday if you want.
I wanted, all right.
Me: He sounds dangerous.
Nash: He is. And he has no fear. He’ll invade unknown territory. Conquering everything he sees.
This was getting out of my league. We were heading into sexting territory, I knew. And although the idea of talking dirty to Nash was exciting, I wasn’t sure what to say next.
Invade me, baby?
I’ve got a cave he might want to explore?
I groaned. I was such a dweeb.
Before I could type out a stupid response, my phone pinged in my hand. I had another text. But it wasn’t from Nash this time.
Grant: I’m looking forward to seeing you at eleven.
My vagina pulsed.
“Down girl,” I muttered and pressed my thighs together, closing it down.
Me: I’m looking forward to seeing you too. Shall I bring anything?
It was funny. With Grant, I felt myself morphing into someone more elegant. With Nash, I felt myself morphing into a sassy slut. Both were fun. Exciting.
My phone pinged again.
Nash: Oooonly if that territory wants to be conquered, of course.
I smiled. I’d waited too long to reply, and he was clearly making it known that I wouldn’t be forced into anything. I appreciated the gesture.
Another text came through.
Grant: Only your beautiful self.
I had to look back to see what he was referring to. I clearly wasn’t a good texting juggler. Dear God, please guide my thumbs and lead me not into texting darkness. And forgive me in advance for breaking the majority of the commandments this week.
Selecting Nash’s thread, I typed: Don’t worry. I’ll bar the gate if necessary.
I went back to Grant’s thread: I’m excited. Anything specific I should wear?
I had no idea what to expect.
My phone pinged twice, one right after the other.
Nash: Speaking of gate. I’m at the airport. See you Friday.
Grant: Wear something you’re comfortable walking around in.
Me to Nash: Safe travels. By the way… I don’t even know your last name.
Me to Grant: Comfortable it is. See you soon.
Two more pings. This was actually really exciting.
Nash: Just call me Prince Nash Consuela Banana-Hammock
I laughed and replied: So… it IS a speedo!
I switched over to Grant.
Grant: Yes. Soon.
The men were so different. And I liked them both, distinct personalities and all.
Grant was dark and dangerous.
Nash, light and easygoing.
Yes. I liked them both.
Immensely.
There was only one ping this time.
Nash: Find out Friday. Going dark. See you then.
I set down my phone and covered my face with my hands, smiling into my palms.
This was exactly what I needed. Fun. Excitement. Especially now, with Jaz gone. The timing couldn’t have been any more perfect.
The apartment was quiet and brightly lit by the morning sun. It was only nine, and I had plenty of time to get ready for my date with Grant.
It was a date, I decided. It wasn’t charity because I simply refused to believe that a man like him would go through all this trouble if he only saw me as some unfortunate person he needed to take under his wing.
Throwing my duvet back, I rolled from the bed and made my way down the stairs. I looked at Jasmine’s neatly made bed, and a pang hit me. I hoped she was having fun.
One of the goals of the camp was to encourage independence. Jaz had full access to her phone, but so far… things had been silent.
According to my app, she had made it to camp. And I had to admit, I was a little hurt when she didn’t immediately text to let me know she’d arrived.
But this was good. This was the goal. Independence.
I spent the next two hours primping and trying on clothes, much as I’d done yesterday. I settled on a pair of pinstriped shorts in a silky linen fabric I’d found steeply discounted at Macy’s. With it being so warm, I topped it with a floaty off the shoulder white blouse that billowed around me like a dream.
I selected my favorite pair of wedge sandals. I loved wedges because they were so comfortable I could wear them all day. And since I was in sneakers most of the week, the sandals made me feel more feminine.
With the white, I chose chunky turquoise jewelry, but only on my ears and wrists. I was a less was more kind of person, and the matching necklace seemed to detract from the lines of the blouse more than anything. So after putting it on and taking it off several times, I tossed it into the jewelry box and closed the lid.
I was in the middle of pulling my hair up and taking it down, when a knock on the door surprised me. A glance at the clock told me Grant was early. Not much, just ten minutes. But in frantic girl-getting-ready-time, those few minutes were precious.
“Coming!”
Tossing a hair band into the hobo bag I decided to carry, I knew I could always pull my hair back later if it got to be too much.
I opened the door, and nearly groaned out loud. It was Charlie Jr.
Crap. Why hadn’t I looked?
“Your bike is broken.”
Without another word, he turned away and went trudging down the stairs.
Oh no.
“Thanks,” I called out and grabbed my keys, stuffing my phone into my bag before locking the door.
Charlie was standing in his doorway as I went past. “You look pretty.”
I murmured another, “Thank you,” and shoved outside. And sure enough… my bike was in ruins.
It felt like a personal assault. As if someone had hurt me physically instead of just some inane object made of metal. My stomach churned as I moved closer. Of the four bikes in the rack, only one was destroyed. Mine. Jasmine’s pink three-wheeled one appeared to be fine, thank goodness.
My purple and white bike was in three pieces now. The front wheel was still chained to the rack, but the metal was completely bent, the spokes sticking out, the tire flat with a number of gouges. The back wheel looked the same and had been tossed farther down the sidewalk. The body of the bike had been badly beaten.
I felt eyes on me and looked up to find Charlie standing at the door. Had he done this? And if so, why? Or was this just a random act of some purple hater, and my bike had just been in the path?
If there was a blessing in this, it was that I was glad it wasn’t Jaz’s bike. Her bike was specially fitted for her, the three wheels giving her extra stability as she rode through the streets. And it was much more expensive than mine. I’d often thought we were taking a risk by parking it outside, but there wasn’t a good option. It was simply too heavy to carry up the steps every day.
“What happened?”
I jumped, having not heard anyone approach as I accessed the damage.
Damn. Why did Grant have to witness this? Was I forever going to be that girl who needed to be pitied?
But when I looked up at him, there was no pity in his expression. He was pissed.
I looked back up to the door, but Charlie was gone.
“Vandals,” I muttered.
There was nothing more that I could do except unbolt the tire and toss the thing in the nearby dumpster around the corner. I found the correct key and was about to do just that when Grant’s hand came down on my shoulder.
“I’ll have it taken care of.”
“But—”
The muscles in his jaw were tight. I couldn’t exactly see them beneath the growth of beard, but I could tell. “Leave it.”
This was a man who was used to giving orders. A man who was used to being listened to. But as I looked at the wreckage of my bike, I nodded. Not to appease him, but it would be nice to not have to deal with it myself.
“Thank you.”
His hand came to my lower back, hot and heavy through the thin material of my blouse. “Do you have everything you need?”
I hitched my bag higher onto my shoulder and dropped the keys inside. “Yes. I’m ready.”
Wayne was by the back door, a scowl on his face as we approached. I sensed a silent communication between the two men, and Wayne nodded and opened the door. “Good morning.”
I smiled as best as I could manage. “Good morning.”
But as we drove away, there was a flick of the Gains’s apartment curtain. I shivered.
“Are you okay?”
I turned to face the man beside me. “Yes. It was just a surprise to find things like that.”
His hand moved across the console between us and covered mine. “It felt… intentional.”
Yes. It did.
“Or maybe it wasn’t,” I reasoned. “Mine was on the outside of the rack. Maybe the vandal got interrupted or something before he damaged the others.”
He squeezed my fingers, and I looked down to see how his hand completely covered my own. I felt so small with him. Protected.
Not that I needed protecting.
I thought of Charlie.
Or maybe I did.
“What will you do?”
I’d just been considering that. “I can walk or take Jazzy’s bike until I get a replacement.” I forced a bright smile onto my face. “Don’t worry. It will be fine. It always is.”
He turned my hand until my palm was facing up in the cradle of his own. He seemed to study the lines there, then traced them with his finger. “I admire your outlook on life.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. We sat in an emotionally comfortable silence, but I was becoming more and more uncomfortable physically. His finger had moved to my wrist and traced the blue veins near the surface. The touch seemed to have a direct line to my groin, and I squirmed in my seat.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Yes…” I answered honestly. “But please don’t stop,” I added quickly when he began to move away.
“I like touching you.”
It was suddenly hard to breathe. I licked my lips and lowered my eyes to watch his finger begin its journey up my forearm. “You have very big hands.”
He laughed, and the tension was broken. “The better to touch you with, my dear.”
My heart was knocking in my chest when I turned my head to look at him. Be brave. “You have very big lips.” He smiled, laughter in his eyes, and I realized how that sounded. “I mean, not big-big. They’re actually very nicely shaped but not overly large. It’s not like you’re a puffer fish or anything.”
God. I just needed to shut up.
Grant’s entire body was shaking from barely suppressed laughter. With his free hand, he wiped at the corner of his eye before looking over at me. Then, he puffed his lips out, smacked them together, and it was over. I was laughing too.
And it was exactly what I needed.
The next few minutes of the ride to the airport was ridiculous, with me telling all the fish jokes I could remember hearing from Jaz.
“Do you like fishing?” I asked, and the good humor seeped away from his expression. Not completely, but it dimmed.
“I did as a boy, very much. My father and I spent many weekends on the lake.”
“When you weren’t flipping and restoring houses?”
The finger began to trace again. “Yes.”
“It sounds fun,” I ventured, unsure of what territory I was stepping into.
Grant lifted his hand away from my skin and traced the scar on his lip. It was a self-soothing gesture, I realized. Anytime he remembered his past, he immediately went there.
“It was. I had a very good childhood.” He turned the hand holding mine until our fingers linked. “I’m sorry you didn’t.”
I sandwiched his hand between mine. “I’m sorry for whatever happened to cause the good memories to become filled with pain.”
He stared straight ahead. “How do we seem to always venture into dangerous territory?”
I studied his profile, trying to read him. Wanting to read him. When he finally looked at me again, I squeezed his hand. “I don’t know. Maybe both our hearts are cracked in the same place.”
He said nothing, just lifted my hand until it was pressed against his lips.
We sat that way for a long time, and I watched the cars go by, then noticed the planes taking off in the distance. As the airport got closer, my excitement grew. As well as a little trepidation.
“Is flying fun?”
He grinned. “I suppose so. Yes. You’ll have to tell me if you agree when we land in Philly.”
When we bypassed the exit that led to the departure terminals, I frowned. “Where are we going?”
“The private landing fields.”
My eyes popped wide before I remembered. “Oh, yeah. You told Jaz that you have a plane?”
He looked boyish as his chipped tooth made an appearance. “Yes. I travel often, and enjoy the freedom having my own transportation provides.”
“Are you a pilot?”
“Yes, actually, but I won’t be flying us today.”
He was so accomplished. His Wiki page claimed that he was thirty-four, but it was amazing that he’d done so much within those few decades.
I got distracted when Wayne turned into an area with huge domed buildings. From shows I’d watched, I knew they were hangars, but I’d never seen one up close. When we pulled up to one, I eyed the sleek looking jet sitting in front of it. “Is that yours?”
“Yes.”
As we got to where I could see the side of it, I read Sommerfield Investments on the side. I turned to him, amazed. “This really is yours.”
He looked pleased. “No, actually. I stole one and graffitied it up last night.”
I laughed, watched his eyes brighten as the chip in his tooth revealed itself again. There was light to his dark. It didn’t come out often, I expected, but it was there. And it was a beautiful thing to witness.
Wayne opened my door, and I grinned up at him as I stepped from the car. “Are you coming with us?” I asked.
“No, Miss Journey. I have other things to attend to. And if I may, I’ll take the key to your bike and have it removed.”
I immediately felt guilty. “I’m sorry that I’m giving you extra work.”
He gave me the tiniest of eye rolls. “It’s no bother.”
Slowly, I pulled off the little clip that held both Jasmine’s bike key and mine and handed them over. He tipped an imaginary hat. He was wearing black khakis and a polo shirt today, and tattoos peeked out from under his sleeves. Yet another man of many contradictions. “Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome.”
Yeah. Contradictions. He spoke like a British butler without the accent but was big and burley and tattooed up.
“Ready?”
Grant was at my side, holding his hand out. I gave Wayne another smile and took it.
“Can I keep him?” I said as we headed toward the plane.
Grant raised a brow. “Wayne?”
“Yeah.”
He gave me a little you have to be kidding me scoff. “No. You may borrow him, but I’d rather lose my left ba… um, foot than him.”
Balls. This polished, professional man had been about to say balls.
I laughed and walked up the metal stairs, excitement filling me as we neared the top.
Stepping inside was like stepping into a luxury hotel. The kind I’d seen in magazines, not in person.
“Wow.”
“Welcome aboard.”
It was the pilot and co-pilot greeting me, a flight attendant smiling next to them. It was more than a little intimidating. “Thank you.”
Grant greeted the three men and spoke for a few moments while I wandered back into the space. The leather of the seats was buttery soft, and I guessed it sat as many as sixteen with the long couches stretching down the sides.
“Let me show you around.”
His hand was on my back, and he guided me through a small kitchen area. A complicated looking coffee station took up quite a bit of the space. There was also a bottle of wine or champagne on ice.
Seeing it brought immediate guilt. I’d gotten tipsy last night. With Nash. I’d let him touch me, taste me. I’d agreed to spend an entire weekend with him soon.
“Here’s a bathroom.”
I pulled my thoughts away from last night and looked into the room he indicated. My jaw fell open. There was even a shower. “What? No bathtub,” I said sarcastically, giving him a dramatic eye roll.
He fake frowned. “Turbulence. Water everywhere. You might drown.”
I sighed. “Well, in that case, I suppose this will do.”
His hand stroked my back, and I went past the bathroom and into an… actual, full-size bedroom that rivaled the size of my entire apartment.
“That’s a bed,” I said like an idiot. And what a bed it was. Lavishly decked out in what looked to be silk everything.
He pressed his lips together and nodded solemnly. “Yes. It is.”
I was incredulous. “A king-sized bed.”
He nodded again. “Yes.” His eyes fell to my lips. “Want to bounce on it?”
Mmm… I did.
I licked my lips and he growled. His hand moved up my arm until it was on the bare skin of my shoulder. “Tell me I have big lips.”
I blinked. “What?”
He backed me up until I was against the door, and a flashback from last night came to me. But that was then. This was now. A new day. A new man.
“Tell me that I have big lips,” he repeated.
Then I understood. My toes curled as his other hand moved to cup my face in his warm palm. “My, what big lips you have.”
His nostrils flared. “The better to kiss you with, my dear.”
When our mouths connected, the universe toppled over onto its side.
“Excuse me, sir,” a voice said from nearby, and I jerked my head back so fast, it slammed into the wood behind me. “We’re cleared for takeoff.”
I groaned, and Grant’s hands moved to my head, strong fingers massaging my scalp. “We’ll be right there,” he told the attendant in a voice more gruff than I’d ever heard it. He kissed my forehead. “Are you okay?”
I reached up to stroke his cheek, his beard tickling my palm. “Yes. Can I tell you that you have big lips again later?”
His nostrils flared. “Yes. You can tell me anything you want.”