by Lucia Franco
Say Yes
by Lucia Franco
Copyright © 2020 by Lucia Franco
Edited by Nadine Winningham
Proofread by Amber Hodge
Cover Design by Okay Creations
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Preview of Stay With Me
Prologue
Chapter 1
Also by Lucia Franco
Acknowledgments
About the Author
To every reader who fell in love with James and Aubrey and asked for more, Say Yes is for you.
One
Sleep eludes me as I fight off this horrible headache.
I turn over and curl onto my side. Light from the cracked door spills across the bed and I place a pillow over my face to block it out. Sleeping in a pitch-black room has always helped in the past, but this time it isn't working. The main cause of my headache is stress. I've had so much on my mind lately I've hardly slept.
I yawn and close my eyes, feeling the pull of sleep finally taking me under. I'm nestled under a pile of blankets when a door outside my room slams, startling me awake. I gasp and my heart seizes in my throat as my bloodshot eyes widen for a split second. I lay in silence for a moment, my eyes growing heavy and I begin to drift off again, until I hear James yelling from the other room.
"You tell that little fuck he has one last chance to come clean with me or I'm dropping his case, and he can go beg another lawyer to take him on pro bono." A pause of silence. "Reece, I was paraphrasing… Yeah… I'm not in the mood. Remind him I was the fifth person he spoke to who finally said yes. He's facing life in prison. Let him know if he doesn't come clean with everything by the time I get back, I'm dropping him. All I need is two minutes with him and I'll know if he's lying."
I swear I can feel James's tension through the walls. My heart is saying go to him while my body is urging me to wait.
He’s quiet as he listens to Reece, and I catch the clatter of ice cubes falling into a snifter. The glass meets the marble countertop with a sharp clink and the lid pops from what would only be a bottle of cognac. I know him like the back of my hand. He’ll give it a little spin after he pours and take a quick sip before he responds to Reece.
I move the pillow off my face, stretch my arms above my head, and inhale. My body is desperate for sleep, but I want to see James more.
"Thanks, Reece. Just stay on top of it. I’d hate to drop him, but maybe it's time he learned a lesson."
After a pause, James lets out a lively laugh.
"Yeah, she's here. Stop thinking about her like that, you fuck," James says, and I know he’s joking. "Yeah, I'll tell her you said hi. All right, man, yeah. See ya later. Thanks again."
A tired smile tips my lips. I like hearing them banter. James and I had discussed the possibility of bringing other people into our bedroom since we are officially a couple now, but we’d both decided it was best if we didn’t. Reece has been trying to get us to recreate that hot night the three of us shared a few years ago, but James and I always say no. We're both comfortable in our relationship and don't feel the need to bring anyone else into it.
Quite frankly, I'm not sharing him.
James's footsteps echo as he strides down the hall toward our bedroom. I sense his riled presence and see a shadow appear before he opens the door and pushes his way into our room.
"Val."
I love when he calls me Val. Normally, a sly smile would curl my lips and my blood would rush with desire of what's to come at the sound of that nickname.
But today I just want someone or something to put me out of my misery. Maybe I'll see if Natalie will bring me her weed pen. He doesn't hit the light switch because he knows I have a headache from hell, so he leaves the door open just enough to be able to see me.
Wide steps eat up the distance. James is standing at my bedside, looking at me with a piercing gaze like something is simmering beneath his skin, itching to come out. The contrast of blues in his eyes always come out when the lights are turned down low. He places his glass on the nightstand, then leans down to press a kiss to my forehead. My eyes close and I smile, even though he can't see it. I love his forehead kisses. Reaching for him, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him to me, making him climb into bed. He comes to me without hesitation.
James is positioned on his side so he can spoon me, but I curl up next to him instead and nuzzle his neck with my nose. I need to feel his body pressed to mine. He wraps a strong arm around the back of my neck and scoots closer to me. I guess he needs me too.
"Feeling any better?"
"Mmmmm," I hum under my breath, then nod.
"Are you?"
"Yes, it’s a dull headache now, but a lot better. It helps being in your arms."
I release a sated sigh and burrow myself into his chest. Being in James's arms is the only medicine I need.
"I would've come home sooner if you needed me."
Angling my chin up, I press my lips to his and feel his salt and pepper beard tickle my skin. I shake my head and say, "Not necessary. Everything okay at work?"
James hooks my knee with his hand and scoops my leg around his hip so that I'm partially laying over him. A little purr vibrates in the back of my throat at feeling the heat of his body warm mine. He lays his hand at the crest where my thigh and hip meet and gives me a good tug.
"It would be if this client of mine would get his act together. This kid doesn't seem to comprehend that he's facing life in prison. He thinks it’s a joke and figures since he's got my firm to rep him, he'll walk scot-free. Too bad it doesn't work like that."
"How old is he?"
"Seventeen."
"That's unfortunate," I say quietly. "Hopefully he'll come around. He only has so much time before he seals his future with bars."
James is quiet for a moment. I know he's stewing over the situation and that it bothers him. Attorneys are taught to leave their emotion at the door, but they’re humans too, and occasionally, a case gets to them.
"Yeah, I hope. I'd hate to see him wind up as another teen statistic, and that's the route he's going down."
I don't like the sound of hopelessness layering his words. James is a good man with a good heart. He’s constantly offering a helping hand to anyone who needs it. To see him troubled to this degree bothers me and causes this need to unfurl through me to take his mind off thing
s.
My palm glides over his wide chest, feeling his strength beneath the expensive material. A fire burns inside of me at having someone like James—the strong and silent type—hold me like I'm the only thing that matters in this world.
Pressing into him, I roll against him until he's lying on his back. I rise to my knees and straddle his hips. I lean over and linger above his mouth, purposely arching my hips back with a sexual slide of my pussy. James grips me, his hands come to rest on my rounder hips.
"I heard you call out to Val when you walked in," I say, my voice taking on a huskier tone. I know what he needs, and I want to give it to him. James needs his mind taken off work and what he can't control. He needs someone to take the reins and make him forget his own name.
I'm that girl.
I reach for his black tie and slip my middle finger through the knot to loosen it, then pull it off completely. My touch searches for the black buttons of his dress shirt so I can remove it too.
James slips his hands under the oversized shirt I'm wearing and presses into my skin as I undo his buttons. His hips give a little surge into mine, causing a tide of tingles to flow through me. My body turns lax for him, and my eyes roll shut at how divine his hands feel on my skin.
"I did," he murmured.
Val. We made a deal when we officially started dating almost two years ago. When I become Valentina for the night, all cards are off the table and I am at his mercy. Not that I'm not every other night, but on Val nights, it's different. We're different. I don't say no. I wear what he wants me to wear, and he is relentless all night. Anything I've voiced about liking or wanting to try with him, he gives it to me. Being open with our sexuality is what drew us together in the first place. Happy sex life, happy wife. That’s the motto, right? Although I'm not his wife, it's pretty much the same thing. James loves that he makes me happy. He even walks around with a goofy grin on his face all the time.
At first, I worried that Valentina was who James wanted and not Aubrey, but he’d assured me that wasn't the case. He said he liked to change things up a little, and I couldn’t fault him for that. Who doesn't? I know I do. He was open and honest with me. It keeps things interesting and fun for us. I never know when he's going to call out for her—it's always a surprise—and I never regret it. Usually, I'm eager for the next time before we’re done.
"Only if you're up for it," James says.
Move aside, Aubrey. Valentina's up.
"I'm always up for you," I say, dropping my voice to match the mood. James loves when I go full Valentina on him.
My fingers reach the last button. I push his shirt open to reveal the colorful tattoos on his chest. For fifty-six, he's in better shape than most twenty-year-olds. Brawny, virile, and still hot as sin. James Riviera is all mine. It's hard to see the actual designs in the shadows, but I know the colorful swirls of ink on his skin by heart. My palms slide up his abs, feeling each rib of muscle, then over to his pecs. I scoot down to undo his belt, but he reaches out to stop me before I can even pull it free.
My eyes snap to his. Without saying a word, James flips me over so he's looming above me. He pulls me in with his steel gaze like there's something he has to say, and I'm lost to him. He lowers his body and gives me his weight. My fingers thread through his hair while I revel in the touch of his bare chest between my thighs.
"Val can wait until this weekend," he says, and my brow creases in confusion. "We're going to Tahiti for a week. I already have it set up and cleared your schedule with your assistant, and I made sure the cats are well taken care of."
My eyes widen in surprise, my heart rushing fast from excitement. Before I can respond, James says one more thing that makes me a goner for him all night.
"Right now, give me my Aubrey and let me make music with her body."
Two
Since James and I were reunited that day in Chelsea—thanks to Natalie—he's taken me all around the world every chance we’ve had.
We've been to each continent and tried as many delicacies as our bellies could hold. He knew I wanted to travel and see the world, but he also knew how important it was for me to focus on Sanctuary, my non-profit women’s and children’s shelter. As crazy as it may seem, the amount of money I made while working as a high-end escort was enough to set myself up financially for the rest of my life and pay it forward to help those in need. I feel good knowing I could give back. In some way, it makes me feel like Grammy is still around.
My chin is resting on the tops of my hands while I lay on my stomach in our private over-the-water bungalow room. Behind me, James is giving me a hot-oil tissue massage. He spared no expense on this trip. It's still early morning and the French doors are open wide. The spray from the salty sea blends too perfectly with the rich, floral scent of the frangipani flower. I inhale the decadent aroma as I stare at the crystal teal water lapping under the cloudless sky. I could sit here all day.
James doesn't think twice when it comes to needing time away to breathe from the rat race we live in. He just gets up and goes. Sometimes he takes me on a surprise vacation for two days, other times for two weeks. I used to worry at first because Sanctuary demanded so much of my time. I'd feel bad for enjoying the pleasures in life while seeing firsthand how people struggled to get on their feet. Some of the members didn't have two pennies to rub together when they first walked in, and now they have part-time jobs. Seeing them thrive makes me happy, but it all comes with a price.
Sanctuary has grown so much over the course of two years that I'm opening another one on the other side of town. The second location will cater to single fathers and their children. Call me naïve, but I never knew how many men were left alone to raise their children and in need of help. Society always assumes it’s the woman, but there are just as many men who are raising their children with nothing.
"What are you thinking about?" James asks, pressing his thumb into my shoulder to knead out the tension. I let out a sigh and close my eyes. This feels incredible. He gives the best back massages.
"That you're so good to me," I say, my voice taking on a dreamy tone. James applies more hot oil and I sink deeper into the bed as his hands spread over my back.
"I'd do anything for you," he says, then leans down to press a kiss between my shoulder blades. "I know you're stressed about Retreat." A small smile tips my lips at the mention of my second shelter. "Right now, the only thing I want you to focus on is us, and what my hands are doing to you while I work out these knots. There's nothing else you can do for the shelter, sweetheart, everything is finished and ready for the opening."
I let out a sigh. "I know. I just feel like I'm missing something. It doesn't help that the gala is the same day."
When I’d learned I would be one of the four recipients of the New York City Women of Impact Humanitarian Awards, a swarm of butterflies invaded my nerves. I haven't been able to stop thinking about the upcoming dinner, or how I had been chosen for this particular award in a city housing eight million people. Adding to my stress is Retreat opening the same day. It will be a moment I will always remember and feel in my heart. I don’t want anything to tarnish that feeling.
"That's normal. You've invested a lot of time, money, and energy into it. This isn't just a hobby for you, this is your life and what you love. It's what drives you. I know you want it to run smoothly, and it will. Just stop thinking about it for five minutes."
I bob my head. I really do want that, but my anxiety is still there and wreaking havoc on my nerves.
I draw in a breath and exhale the worries like James said. I focus on his touch, how he flattens his hands and spreads his fingers as he applies pressure downward, then drives them up my spine until I feel a tingle in my pussy. His fingers curl around the curve of my shoulders. A little moan escapes my parted lips and my back sweeps up in an erotic curve in response. His hot fingers tease the sides of my exposed breasts until I'm writhing on the mattress. My nipples are puckered, and the cool sheets do nothing to tame the pleasure t
hey're receiving. James moves his fingers over my ribs, slowly gliding them down to my hips. I clench my thighs, feeling the wetness between them. Friction surrounds my clit and the pressure intensifies. My body breaks out in need as his fingers squeeze my pelvis while arching my hips at the same time. James leans down and kisses the small of my back. My toes curl as he makes his way up my spine, peppering my back with kisses.
The only problem with James giving me back massages with hot oil is that all I want is sex right after.
His fingers are on the back of my neck again, this time threading through my hair. My lips part in bliss. I love having my hair played with like this, and James knows it. His hands cup my scalp and he massages my head with a sensual tug of my hair.
"James…" I grin then laugh. "I know what you're doing."
"And what's that, sweetheart?"
I rise up on my elbows and look over my shoulder at him. He's humoring me.
Every time I look at him, my heart does this stupid flip-skip thing that causes the organ to swell larger for him than the cage it's held in. We're an unlikely pair with him being thirty-plus years older than me, yet we couldn't seem more perfect for each other. It's been four years since we met, and I swear the man hasn’t aged. He's still rocking the salt and pepper hair with the matching beard, but now with more tattoos and a tad more muscle. The crow lines around his eyes have deepened in color too. I know people stare at us a little longer when we're in public together, but I don't care. He's mine and I wear him proudly.
