by Peyton Banks
When it came to work, she was fearless. Everyone saw her as this brash ballsy woman. And she was. But when it came to her personal life... caution would have served her better in the past.
"What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" Austin traced her jawline with his index finger.
"Life and perceptions and playing it too safe."
“Come on, you can’t leave me hanging like that.”
“We all make judgments when we see people. It’s not good or bad, just how we as humans are wired. For instance, you saw me as a witch.” She grimaced.
“And you? How did you see me?” His expression didn’t change, but Austin’s voice was tainted with nervousness.
“Incorrectly. At least I hope so.”
Once again, they sat in a silence that was comfortable rather than cloying. From what she could tell, Austin preferred action. But more than once during their time together, he also approached some situations like a chess player, as though thinking three moves ahead.
“You sound like a woman who’s been burned before.”
“Haven’t we all?” She cupped his whiskered cheek. “Not even this face is armor enough against heartbreak.”
“Most people believe otherwise. I tend to trust to easily,” Austin said.
“And I not at all.”
“Aren’t we the pair.”
“Like Jack Sprat and his wife.” Cheryl smiled, and even without a mirror, she knew she looked like a smitten dork. If there was nothing more to Austin other than a tight ass and angular handsome face, it would have been easy to share a short sweaty moment of time and say goodbye.
Austin licked his lips and slowly leaned in, stopping so close all she had to do was take the tiniest of leaps.
"We should probably grab the groceries before they melt," she said as she pulled away. Cheryl unlocked her door and scrambled out of the Jeep.
Chicken.
Like a giant sexy panther, Austin crept around the truck, his eyes still filled with lust and something that looked like amusement. His arm brushed against hers as they retrieved the bags of groceries.
Touching Austin was more intense than a treadmill stress test. She wasn’t sure her poor heart would survive the day.
Austin disarmed the house with the key fob, hit the button to lower the garage door, then unlocked the house. "Welcome, to your paradise for rest of the day."
Okay, at least the cops wouldn't be rolling up, arresting them for breaking and entering. As much as she trusted her instincts, that Austin knew Brian and the find a friend on her cell were the only reasons she’d come to this house.
Despite all that, she knew to her bones that it wasn’t her body in danger.
"Thank you." Cheryl toed her sneakers and half socks off at the door, sighing at the cool tile against her bare feet. They walked through the narrow hallway, it's walls decorated with what appeared to be aboriginal art, stopping in a ginormous open kitchen. "Wow, this is lust inducing."
“I’ve never been jealous of a kitchen,” he said.
“You should be.”
The commercial grade stainless steel appliances, stone countertops, and industrial lighting straight out of Architectural Digest, was a cook's dream. She sat the hemp grocery bags on the counter, then traced the burgundy veins swirling through the granite.
“If you’re going to fondle anything in this house it should be me.” Austin placed his bags on the counter next to hers and gave Cheryl his full attention.
“You, sir are a balm for a bruised ego.”
“No. I’m just not an idiot.” His gaze traveled down her dusty body until he reached her toes.
The man really did have a foot fetish.
"Why would your ego need help? You're damn near perfect."
Her stomach folded itself into an elaborate piece of origami. Whew, she needed to get it together. "Damned near?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter.
"Yup. You haven’t fallen for me yet."
Why, why, why would he say something like that? Something a normal woman would accept and roll with. It was time to nip this in the bud. “Because I’m not going to.”
“We’ll see.”
“Austin...” She inhaled a shaky breath. “Don’t ask for anything more than this.” She touched his chest. “Our lives are too different and in two different places.”
He didn’t answer, just nodded. Not like he agreed, but more like he planned to change her mind.
Austin wiggled his thick eyebrows before leaning against the counter, trapping her between his muscular arms.
She swallowed. “Austin, You scare me.”
He tensed and started to move, but she grabbed his wrists.
“Not like that. Let’s just have fun, okay?”
His eyes made her want to divulge every secret wish and long held pain. Cheryl was equal parts sad and glad that obligations called her home.
Because God help her, it would be too easy to play hooky with from her life.
But in the end, she would say goodbye.
Desperate to lighten the mood she asked, "So... are you still planning to make this a day I’ll never forget?" She tapped the nail of her index finger against her chin.
"Absolutely." His gaze drifted down to her lips. "I think I need to kiss you now," he whispered. “Would that be okay?”
Her body screamed, hell yeah; while her too logical brain was like Robot on Lost in Space, spinning around flailing its arms while screaming, "Danger, Will Robinson."
This was the kind of danger she needed. Cheryl slid her arms around Austin's neck and declared her body the winner of this battle.
Like everything else Austin had done today, his kiss was deliberate. He took his sweet ass time touching his mouth to hers.
And when he did...dear Lord.
Austin's full lips moved back and forth across hers, each brush sending pings of pleasure shooting through her body. Even her brain ditched the resistance and joined team let's-get-naked.
Cheryl whimpered, digging her short nails into his shoulders to urge him closer. Before she could voice her frustration, Austin captured her mouth.
Surely the man had been a pirate in his last life, because ole boy was an expert at plundering.
Why had she been resisting? They were consenting adults. No reason they couldn’t enjoy each other’s bodies as well as company. She’d been clear about her needs, he either accepted the terms or not.
For a second, Cheryl thought she'd literally died and gone to hormone heaven. But when her butt touched the counter, and Austin settled himself between her parted thighs, she realized she hadn't levitated.
Cheryl tried to shut down the ramblings of her horny mind, but a giggle escaped.
Austin ended the kiss, whispering against her lips, "Distracted much?"
"Don’t pout. That was a definite B plus effort." She tore her arms from around his neck and placed them on the counter behind her. Leaning back gave her the full view. And Judging from the hooded hungry eyes, he was thinking about a whole lot more than steak and salad.
Good, the feeling was mutual.
Abruptly, he stood, then drummed his palms against her thighs. "Hey, did you hear back from your sister?" he asked as he lifted her from the counter.
"I don't know?" Cheryl unbuttoned the side pocket of her cargo shorts and looked at the empty screen. No messages. "Apparently the heifer isn’t concerned."
"I doubt that." Austin chuffed a short laugh.
"Duh." Cheryl tapped the heel of her hand against her forehead. "She's in surgery today."
"She's getting surgery and you ran off to Vegas?" He looked so disturbed, that once again she couldn't help but laugh.
"Not having—performing. She schedules some Saturday procedures to help the parents who have difficulty getting off during the week.”
“That’s cool. Sounds like you come from a family of overachievers.”
“You could say that. How about you? Any siblings?”
“No
pe. Only child.” He removed the eggs, bread and cranberry juice from the bag and placed them in the fridge.
“Let me guess. Strait-laced professional parents and you’re the rebel child making your own way in the world.”
“That’s scarily accurate.” He stared at her. With that closed off expression he had in the canyon before he seemed to shake it off. “Let’s move this party out back.”
If she thought the kitchen was kick ass, the backyard put it to shame. Obviously, the owner of the house spent a good chunk of time outdoors.
A large overhang spanned the back of the white one-story house, and it was wide enough for a large L-shaped outdoor kitchen at one end, and a fireplace/pizza oven at the other. Thank goodness it wasn't summer but judging by the ceiling fans with mister attachments and massive pool, the owner didn't let hundred-degree temperatures stand in the way of fun.
"Holy shit. This house beautiful. That's it.” She let out a deep sigh. “I'm staying forever."
"So, all it takes is money? I guess the face alone doesn’t do it for you.”
The censure rocked her like a shotgun blast of rock salt. She flinched, then took a second for the words to penetrate her happy bubble.
Oh no, this motherfucker didn’t.
“Are you...judging me? Because I didn’t ask for that fancy ass tour, and I damned sure don’t give a shit about you bringing me to your friend’s house. But I’m going to tell you what we ain’t going to do—”
“Sorry.” He appeared more sullen than apologetic, frowning like that.
“About what?” If he pulled out that sorry if you were offended bullshit, she was ordering an Uber.
“It’s just some of the shit you said in the house made me think...”
“That I was a gold digger.”
“Yeah.”
“I have my own gold,” she said. “I don’t need yours.”
“Of course not. Because you assumed I don’t have any.”
She rolled her eyes and looked skyward to the ancestors for answers. “I can’t believe this.”
“You haven’t even asked what I do for a living.”
“I don’t care.” Because the less she knew, the easier it would be to walk away. Because this way when he turned out to be not so perfect, she wouldn’t be disappointed.
And mostly because if he really was this perfect, they would never work.
“And you’ll be gone. So I…” He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter.”
"Yes...” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. it’s complicated. How we earn money is not who we are. Do you have any idea how often someone thinks I'm cool until they discover I'm an attorney? I usually become the face of all that's wrong in the world. Then there’s the men who believe over thirty-five, single and childless equals I’m desperate for their dusty asses."
Austin chuckled.
"Not funny." That look, whatever it had been was gone from his eyes and replaced with a twinkle that reminded Cheryl of her five-year-old niece.
"You're right." Austin rocked back on his heels. "Today we're merely Cheryl and Austin."
"And tomorrow?"
"We'll deal with that then," he said.
“We had our first date, first kiss, and first argument on the same day. What now?” Cheryl stopped flicking the button on her cargo shorts and exhaled. Maybe it would be better if they called it a day.
“We kiss and make up?” Austin closed the two feet separating them and placed his hands on her hips. "I like you."
He really wasn’t making this easy.
"I like you too," she whispered, the words falling from her lips like a confession.
Rather than kiss her senseless again, he looked as if he wanted to say something.
Austin could keep his secrets. Because like he said—she’d soon be a memory. But she planned to make sure it was damned good.
"Did you happen to bring a suit with you?" he asked
"I did."
"Damn, I was hoping you would tell me that you didn't need no stinking suit."
Cheryl winked. "The day's not over. I may surprise you yet."
7
Austin
“Hi, I'm Austin, the king of the dumb asses.” He sipped his chilled Merlot and looked out over the infinity pool. Vegas wasn't his favorite place. It was too hot, too dry, and too damned crowded most of the year.
So why did he buy a house here? Primarily, because he loved Brian and his family, but whew, his kids were a handful. Plus, Austin required solitude. A place to create new music.
When Cheryl complimented the house, that would have been the perfect time to tell the truth. To say...what? Would it had changed anything?
She was leaving tomorrow, and that would be that.
Even if he didn't want it to be.
"Hey, why didn't you change?" Cheryl wore a blood red bikini and a body built for sin.
Where in the hell had she been hiding all that?
Apparently, he'd lost the ability to take letters and shove them together to form words.
"You okay?" That little impish grin said she knew all too well the effect of all that glorious brown skin and slashes of red framed against the backdrop of the white walls. It was if he’d built this house not for an escape, but for her.
"Damn girl." See, he could still speak, even if it was monosyllabic.
She spun around, giving him the full view, and it was marvelous. "This old thing?"
This was the first time in over twenty years he’d pursued a woman.
And he liked it.
Austin kicked off his flip flops and loosened the top button of his jeans. "I'm not seeing the need for trunks. Do you?"
Cheryl squeaked, ran over to the pool, and sliced through the water with the expertise of an Olympic diver.
Impressive.
When her head broke the surface, she was on the other side of the pool. Cheryl was beautiful on dry land, but with water sparkling against her dark skin like diamonds she’d become irresistible.
"Disappointed?" He crossed his arms as her gaze travelled up his legs to his snug Speedo shorts.
"Um...no. Don’t flatter yourself.” She swam to the side of the pool, stopping at his feet, before splashing water on his legs.
Life was filled with tiny seemingly inconsequential memories, meant to be tucked away for oncoming storms. This moment with this complicated and intelligent woman would always be one of his.
Austin cleared his throat, but the emotions tightening it were there to stay. Cheryl Richardson was no fling. Usually, he'd fall into bed with a woman, then work the rest out later.
Not this time.
"Stay there, I want to take a picture." He grabbed both phones, then returned, taking a ridiculous amount of shots. When him and Cheryl were old and gray, he wanted to show the grandkids the day he fell in love.
Austin placed their phones in a dry spot on the deck, then leapt. Unlike Cheryl, he did a big inelegant cannonball.
"Schmuck." Cheryl swiped her hand down her grinning face, then rolled over on her back.
When he reached her, Cheryl looked... different. Perhaps she'd finally felt safe enough to let down the last of her defenses.
She trusted him.
Yet he'd been lying. No amount of tangled justification could make it anything else at this point.
"Cheryl, there's something I need to—"
She ducked under the surface, reappearing at the side of the pool. "Hey, let's take a couple of selfies."
"Okay but—"
Cheryl kept going as if he'd not spoken and planted her palms on the edge of the pool and lifted herself out of the water. Which made him forget everything but his name.
She extended her hand holding her phone. "Here you have longer arms."
Touching Cheryl wouldn't be the wisest move. Not until he told her everything. They'd spent a grand total of eight hours together, but she deserved honesty.
Austin licked his lips and tried again. "Woman, I'm trying to tell you s
omething."
"Baby, it's going to have to wait. I'm on a mission here..." She narrowed her eyes. "You're not married are you. Because if you are, I'm going to drown your Black ass."
He snort laughed.
Forget restraint. Just because he wouldn't bed her, didn't mean he couldn't touch. He needed to know if her skin was as soft as it looked.
He ducked under the water, coming up in front of Cheryl and pressing his body against hers. Thank god for moisturizer and saltwater pools. Her skin was like silk.
He squeezed her hip. "No wife, ex or current. No big dark secrets." Except one. And pressed against her like that, he didn't give a shit.
So what? He had money and fame.
He was the same man she’d shut down earlier.
Austin kissed her again. When he retreated, her pupils were dilated and her breathing heavy. Good. What he wanted from Cheryl was more than orgasms for a day. He wanted it all—the laughter, the tears, the fears, the love, and the pain.
Call him greedy, but he wanted it all.
“That was...” She traced the tribal tattoo covering his left pec.
“Yeah, the whole day has been like that—at least for me.”
She lowered her chin to hide her shy smile for a few seconds before looking up at him with something a little wicked in her eyes. “Break is over. Picture time.”
"When did you get so pushy?"
"I was born this way."
Austin shifted them so her back was to his front, and he snapped pictures of them making those stupid duck lips, him kissing her neck, and his favorite, her face tucked against his neck like she'd chosen him as her partner and protector.
Cheryl kissed his neck then said, "Hold on."
He'd planned to just that, for much longer than she knew.
What he wasn't prepared for was Cheryl wrapping her legs around his waist. This woman was about to make him forgo that vow of chastity.
"You sure you want your sister to see what I'm about to do to you?"
"Oh, this isn't for her, this is for my dickhead of an ex."
Austin didn't give a shit about his face—and other parts—flashed over the internet, but Cheryl probably couldn't say the same. "How about we not."
