“I wish,” I say and immediately correct myself. “I mean, not wish to ditch you guys. I mean, I wish he were home. He’ll be back tomorrow. Anyhow, I’m your driver tonight, you clowns.”
My friends’ smiles only widen when I conclude with an audible yawn that I manage to cut only after it was well heard.
“Anna!” Kayla yells, her eyes on the water. “Your bobber . . . ”
I cut my eyes to the water where the bobber sinks and pops right back only to sink again. I point the rod tip up and pull back with moderate pressure. All eyes are on my efforts to pull out of the water whatever I caught. When I finally manage to pull it out, we all break into laughter. On the tip of the string linked to my hunched rod, is what appears to be a soggy diaper.
“If that’s not an omen to not having babies, I don’t know what is,” Vicky murmurs.
Kayla snorts with merriment. “If that’s not a sign to call it a night, I don’t know what is.”
Panda rubs her hands over her arms, doing a little warm-up jig. “It is getting cold uh? Yeah, let’s just go home.”
About twenty-five minutes later, after dropping off Panda and then Kayla, I bring the car to a halt at Vicky’s apartment building. She turns to me, “You sure you don’t want to sleep over?”
I shake my head, “I still need to stop by the studio, my studio!” I grin and my sister joins me. “Weekly classes schedule. Ashley, the new instructor I hired still needs to learn how to work with the system and I need to review it, make sure there’s no overlap with the others.”
Vicky hugs me. “Drive safe. Night, Bean.”
By the time I get home, I’m tired and in a bit of a strange mood. I’m not down or anything, just this underlying semi-gloomy sort of feeling. Maybe it’s just the feeling you get when you miss someone. The kind of mood that requires a warm blanket and an early night in bed.
I close the door, hang my coat, and throw the keys in the bowl, my mind on a few things for work that I need to get done before going to sleep. Absorbed in my thoughts, I step into the living room. I shriek and send my hand to my heart, noticing someone on the floor.
When I make sense of what’s in front of me, my heart swells. Liam is sitting on the floor, still in his scrubs, leaning on the sofa, his legs stretched in front of him. He puts the book in his hand on his lap. My heart hurts with the sweetest of pains as he smiles at me and it’s the most loving smile. Like me coming home, the vision of me is all he ever wanted. I feel the same way, like he belongs here, waiting for me at the end of the day, happy to see me.
“Hi.” Liam smiles at me.
“Hi,” I return and walk over to him. “Best surprise.”
His smile grows. “I swapped a shift with someone, had to see you.”
My throat tightens with the deepest of feelings I have ever felt for anyone. So intense it’s at the brink of painful. Liam places the book on the floor, reading my moves. I crouch to straddle him. His hands move to my face. “When did you get in?” I ask running my eyes between his, drinking in his beauty.
“An hour ago,” he says, his stare stroking my face. “Was waiting to take a shower until you got back,” he says and slowly leans in to softly touch his lips to mine. He inches back. “Did you have a good time with the girls?”
A cheeky smile takes over my lips when I say, “Yes please, Doctor, please treat my lady parts, please.”
“Say again,” Liam says through a chuckle. His smile, the sound of his laughter. I can’t. I really can’t, this is everything. When you found your guy . . . all those Hallmark movies were kind of accurate. My own smile evolves into something more sentimental; it doesn’t carry humor anymore, it’s an expression of utter affection.
Liam’s thumb gently caresses my cheek while he’s still framing my face. He opens his mouth to say something and I beat him to it with, “I missed you.”
His lips seal on mine for a long tender stretch. He pulls back a little, eyes making love to mine. “How about that shower?”
I kiss him, a kiss that is a prelude of things to come, and ease off him to stand up. I offer him my hand and when he joins me, I lead us both down the hall and into the bathroom.
We undress each other in silence through scorching kisses and no less heated looks. All the longings gathered within us in the past few days explode into the steamiest of showers. Water cascades over us, seeping through our fused mouths, trailing over heated skin as our hands touch with untamed urgency to get closer. With our mouths still fused, Liam gently guides us to the floor where he sits with his back to the wall, helping me gently onto his lap, onto him. We hug so tightly, nearly becoming one as he moves in me. Water is cascading over us as he takes my breath away with the way he touches me, moves in me, and kisses me. It’s so intimate and intense and impossibly incredible.
Later, in bed, on his chest, wrapped in his warmness and Liam scent, feeling loved, I raise my head to look at him. He gifts me with a special smile, one that’s full of everything we shared and a promise for so much more. I need to swallow over the emotions in my throat before whispering, “I love you.”
Liam smiles at me wholeheartedly and tips his head to kiss me tenderly. When he eases back, I return his smile, mine a mix of flirt and sass as I say, “Congratulations, you managed to become my number one person off and online!”
Liam wiggles his brows, whispering low and heated “Well, where’s my reward?” he teases, to which our lips unite again.
(Poison & Wine, book II)
Read about Vicky And Ricky’s story in by Chance.
Two’s Company; Three’s a Crowd – Never!
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says with a predatory grin. At first glance, he looked like a successful businessman with a pinch of sin. At first glance, I understood why Pandora, one of my closest friends, thought he might be my type. I can’t completely overlook the cheesy come-on, a bit of a turnoff, but surprisingly this guy intrigues me enough for me to not walk away . . . yet. I have a very low tolerance for cliché, pompous bastards, you see.
I check my watch and take a sip of Rosé. Cocking my head, I say, “That so?”
I follow his motion as he shifts his hand from his thigh to rest just over his heart and mouths, “Honestly.” Stare not leaving mine; he takes a swig of his amber drink.
I lick my lips, returning his daring stare. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” I seal my response with my lips tipped at the side.
He chuckles, slightly tilting his head back. I watch him, smiling to myself. Nothing beats the thrill – the promise of a new beginning. The flirty exhilaration, sensual buzz; I live for this.
He picks up a couple of peanuts from the small bowl and flings them into his mouth. He watches me as he chews. Dark inviting eyes, a chiseled jaw, quite the vision in his bespoke navy suit.
“So, tell me, Victoria Nielsen, what can I do to convince you to have dinner with me?” His lips tip a little higher. “See, the twenty minutes you offered aren’t nearly enough.”
I smile at him, a cheeky, thin smile. “I don’t think that you know what you’re getting yourself into. You sure you want to do that, Mr. Howard?”
His eyes run over me. Lazily, from my black heels, over my crossed legs, up the hem of my skirt. I slowly uncross my legs and cross them on the other side, giving him a peek at the hem of my garter. His stare heats up, and his Adam apple descends. He throws me a scorching glance and continues drinking me in, resuming from the pearl-pink silk shirt to the solitaire diamond necklace, over my rose-tinted lips, and back to my eyes.
He shakes his head slowly. “Nothing I want more.” Then, “And it’s Jack, we can drop the formality.”
Bring it on, Ace.
I nod once and take another sip of Rosé. “See, Mr. Howard,” I lift my eyes to his. He shakes his head, seeming amused. “I currently see two other gentlemen, James and Filippo.”
He raises a surprised dark brow, parting his lips to respond. I hold my hand up, signaling; I�
�m talking.
“I don’t mind having dinner with you, but I want you to know that I don’t do exclusive. We can have dinner and see where it leads. I’m open to getting to know someone new.” I smile at him economically. “Another suitor.”
He frowns, considering my words, his lips set in a hint of a baffled smile.
Didn’t see that one coming, did you, Mr. Howard? I just love their reaction when they realize that the leader role in this little flirty dance we’re having is taken.
Covertly smirking from behind the glass in my hand, more to myself rather than to my “drinks” companion, I rise to stand. I pull out a business card from my purse and place it in front of him.
“Sleep on it.” I wink. “If you decide to take me to dinner, after all, showering me with flowers will grant you a decent head start.”
He eyes me somewhat incredulous yet with a side-smile. I return his smile, taking the last sip of Rosé, and lean in a little to place an airy kiss near his cheek. Just as I thought, he smells fantastic. When I straighten up, he follows my moves with his eyes, looking up at me somewhat enthralled. I reward him with a hint of a smile, turn around, and walk away. I find his eyes burning into me as I turn to look at him over my shoulder and say, “White roses –they’re my favorite.”
Now, don’t get all prude on me. I like the company of the opposite gender, for a nice, fun, period of time. And the more, the merrier! Just so we’re clear, it’s not a team sport kind of thing. Relax. I usually keep it up to a trio; too much logistics otherwise. Why disqualify a nice, promising gentleman only because you see another? I’m a great believer that not every enjoyable romantic experience should be the peak of the greatest love affair. Too little time, too much to enjoy and explore out there. First good dates and new beginnings are the best, so why not enjoy as many as possible?
Fifteen minutes later, I wait for the sliding doors to open and step into the elegant foyer of Clover Ltd, my place of work. Noticing me, my assistant jumps out of his chair to greet me. “Walk with me to the conference room,” I tell Adrian, possibly the best personal assistant on the planet. He’s probably the only guy I’d shamelessly beg not to leave me if he ever tries.
By my side, Adrian goes over the messages he took while I was away. Thirty minutes and it feels like I’ve been away for a week. I pull a fresh breath spray out of my purse and covertly spray a little in my mouth. All I need is to walk into this meeting smelling of wine. I’ll never hear the end of it. Too many people in that room are just waiting for me to screw up. I drop the spray back into my purse and hand it to Adrian. Ever the professional, he takes the bag while continuing to brief me as if no transaction has been made.
“So, you have Tammy right after the management meeting, the call with the New York office, and then you’re going to lock yourself in your office for half an hour and quietly enjoy the early dinner I’m getting you from the Greek place you like.”
I turn to him with a smile. “You’re God’s gift to womankind.”
“Bonus season is just around the corner,” he says drily, handing me a blessed cup of coffee.
I grin at him. “Duly noted.” His lips tip, and he leaves toward my office, taking my purse with him.
I enter the vast meeting room – all the ties, also known as my fellow management colleagues, are in the room. When I close the door behind me, they take their seats. I join them, placing my coffee on the table and silence my phone. Our collective boss starts with a quick review of last quarter before we give a status update of our respective departments. I throw the room a cursory glance. They all sit around the massive table, brandishing their wide, long, potent . . . ties.
Silk, money, and power.
When I got promoted to a vice president position, I thought being one of the very few women in management was a disadvantage. It can be if you see yourself that way – if you believe you are at a disadvantage. Only, I think women possess much more. Alas they are rarely given an equal chance to demonstrate their capabilities. It’s been long proved that women’s contribution to the workforce is often more significant than men’s. Power and respect can be earned even if your ass looks great in a pencil skirt and you have a pretty face. Need be, you possess extra weapons. I always wear skirt suits rather than pantsuits – I’ve got nothing to hide; on the contrary, I refrain from blending in. They walk in waving their long ties; I walk in with a sharp view, vast experience, and killer heels. The thing is, their long, wide, potent ties don’t come as close to intimidating me as my tight skirts and killer instinct intimidates them.
It’s my turn; I wait to get everyone’s attention and give a status update that makes me swell with pride. My department did a hell of a job this quarter. I have both the graphs and the numbers to back it up. Nevertheless, I don’t let myself glow, nor gloat in our success; I praise my subordinates and their hard work. I know full well that we won’t be resting on our laurels. We’ll be working twice as hard to keep this trend going upward.
“Well done, Victoria. Impressive,” the boss says and prompts for a better part of the table to send me diverse looks – a few nod with appreciation, a more significant part with a less empathic cadence. There is a handful that I can easily guess as to what goes through their competitive, misogynistic minds. I promise you it’s not in my favor and probably concludes with bitch and a couple of exclamation points. Now, now, boys, see, I don’t need a large “tie” to compensate for performance.
Some of us stay in the room for the call with the New York office, and sometime later, I finally head to my office, ready to have a break before powering through the backlog of emails waiting in my inbox.
“Dinner is waiting on your desk,” Adrian says, concentrated on his screen. A breath later, he lifts his gaze above the screen. “Dinner and a whole damn forest.”
I frown at him in question. He answers by twisting his mouth while pointing at my office door.
“Holy Dior!” I exclaim entering my office. It smells like a rose garden in here. I walk over to the enormous white rose arrangement, a wicked little smile playing on my face. With two fingers, I fish out the note that’s almost swallowed by the monstrous bouquet.
I’m up for the challenge. Dinner?
J.H.
I tap the card on my smiling lips, thinking, I guess you earned yourself a dinner date, Jacky boy.
“How many roses?” My sister asks, nodding at the waitress, confirming that yes, we’ll take another bottle of Rosé. We’re crammed around the table in our usual booth at Poison and Wine, enjoying a girls’ night out, a thing we try to do as often as possible.
I shrug with merriment. “I don’t know, a bazillion and one?” I laugh. “I swear I’ll need to hire a moving service if I want to take the thing home.”
“And I’m the supposed man eater, mmhmm. Sorry, I don’t think that I can even compete,” my friend Kayla, the badass drummer girl, says smirking.
My friend Pandora claps her hands. “Yay, I knew you guys would hit it off. He’s plenty yums.”
I nod with affirmation. Jack Howard certainly doesn’t lack in the looks department.
“I swear, Vic, if you didn’t exist, it would be necessary to invent you,” my sister, Anna, says.
I side-hug her in return and raise my glass to the girls. The girls, aka The Chickens, my close-knit group of best ladies. Pandora, Panda bear, a kindergarten teacher by vocation and a certified kind-hearted, awesome lunatic by nature. And then there’s Kayla, the drummer girl with the pixie-cut, rock-chic attitude and a wealth of badassery. And last but not least, the person currently squeezed under my arm, my true best friend and younger sister, Anna, also known as Bean by close family.
The girls raise their glasses, and we do a little glass-clinking mingle. Kayla takes a sip of hers and places it back on the table, “Catch you later; we’re on soon.”
“Go kick some ass, Drummergirl,” Panda sends Kayla off on her merry way while Anna and I wiggle our fingers in goodbye.
“Scoot over,”
I tell my sister, shoving her a little with my butt. “I’m going to the toilet.”
Anna raises her eyebrow with the widest of smiles. “Going to the toilet we call it these days. Mmhmm.” Then, “Tell Ricky I said hi,” she whispers next to my ear on her way out of the booth, allowing my escape route. I trap a smile with my teeth instead of responding. The little chicken knows me too well.
I walk down the narrow, dimmed hall of the bar and pause when I see him. And by pause, I mean my steps and that breath that gets trapped in me. There he stands, leaning on the wall, black tee, black jeans, a silver plain chain accentuating his masculine, inked neck. There he is, my nightly fantasies in the flesh.
Ricky is absorbed in thought, scrolling through his phone as I near him. Sensing my presence, he lifts his eyes. His lips tip at the side at the sight of me, causing my heart to skip a beat . . . or two. He has this look about him, one that makes you nearly catch on fire. This guy is a montage of bad boy mannerism. From the way he’s running his tattooed fingers through his marvelously disheveled dark strands and how he licks his lips before saying something in a voice so graveled and deep you feel like it’s caressing you along the length of your skin to how economic his smiles are, but when you do get a chance to witness one . . . so help you God.
He pushes himself off the wall and takes a step forward. “Hey,” he says while placing a lingered kiss somewhere between my lips and my cheek. A kiss that seems innocent but is definitely not! It’s a slightly opened mouth kiss, and somewhat closer to the edge of my lips. It lingers more than a friendly kiss calls for.
“Felt lonely in New York without you,” he says, not leaving my personal space, his eyes ever so slowly trailing across my face. The thing about Ricky, I don’t just look at him with my eyes or hear him with my ears; my entire body responds to him.
I take a protective step back. He’s referring to a trip he took to New York where I was supposed to be at the same time – on business. I can’t say that I wasn’t relieved when my business trip was canceled. Maybe not spending a few nights with Ricky somewhere far from home wasn’t a bad thing. I’m attracted to him like I’ve never been to anyone before. He’s charming and smart and ridiculously attractive, and apart from that, he’s everything I’m not looking for in a guy. With him, I don’t know that I’ll have control over the relationship like I usually have. I lead the game, and the men follow. I know he won’t. The guy breathes dominance. And I have a hunch he’ll never go along with my current dating style. Not to mention we could not be more different even if we tried.
By Mistake Page 23
