by Lucy Eden
Mike had spent this entire day opening himself up to me and sharing his innermost secrets. It felt weird keeping this one bit of information from him.
“It is.” I sighed and continued, “I’ll just tell you. You’ve told me practically everything there is to know about you. The least I can do is tell you about my interview at Grayson Technology.”
I felt Mike’s muscles twitch in the arm that was draped around my shoulder.
“Did you say Grayson Technology?”
“Yeah, have you heard of it? I mean I guess you would have, you’re like the mayor of Culver City.” I laughed, and I noticed that Mike went pale—well, paler.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s getting late. I should take you home.” He sat up, forcing me to sit up too, before rising to his feet.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You looked a little out of it for a second. Where’d you go?”
“I’m fine. I was wondering if you were a serial killer.” He winked at me before pulling me to my feet and leading me out of the hotel.
6
“Why are we in an Uber? We can walk to my Airbnb.” Mike helped me into a black SUV, buckled my seatbelt, and climbed in beside me.
“We’re going to grab some food. You haven’t had anything to eat since lunch except for movie popcorn and Reese’s Pieces.”
“I had cookies at the museum,” I pointed out, with a sleepy giggle.
“You need food.” Mike wrapped his arm around my shoulder and used the pad of this thumb to caress the back of my neck.
With my head on his shoulder, I closed my eyes. Mike pressed a gentle kiss on the top of my head before softly whispering the word “shit.”
I wanted to ask him about it, but the day caught up with me and my eyelids got heavy.
I woke up to the sound of a car door closing and Mike sliding into the back seat next to me carrying two bags of food. My stomach rumbled loudly in response to the smell of grilled meat and fried potatoes.
“Was that your stomach?” he asked.
“I guess I am a little hungry,” I giggled.
“Then I guess I better feed you.” He kissed me again. “Where are you staying?”
I gave him the address before resting my head on his shoulder again and drifting off.
We stood outside the door of the apartment I’d rented while I fumbled with the keys. I finally got the door open, walked inside, toed off my sneakers, and tossed my purse and the shopping bag of books on the kitchen table. Mike stood outside the apartment, holding the bags. He looked unsure of whether or not he should come in.
“What are you doing?” I laughed. “Get in here.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Jordyn.”
I crossed to the door, grabbed his wrist with both hands, and pulled him inside.
“You are not going to make me eat by myself.” I set the bags down on the table and started to unpack them. “This smells amazing. I’ve heard good things about In-N-Out Burger.” I smiled and waggled my eyebrows as Mike dropped into one of the chairs. “Okay, what am I eating here?”
“That is a double-double, animal style”—he pointed at a giant greasy burger with two patties and loaded with toppings—“with fries, also animal style.” There was a container of fries loaded with the same toppings as the burger.
“What is animal style?” I slid one of the fries out of the container and popped it in my mouth. Whatever it was, it was good.
“Animal style means you want your food with melted cheese, secret sauce, and fried onions. It’s my go-to hangover prevention.”
“Mike, are you drunk?” I flopped into his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I’m not,” he said in a chuckle, “but I know someone who is.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not drunk, I’m nice.”
“What does nice mean?”
“Nice means I’m sober enough to consent to a sexual encounter but tipsy enough that I don’t care that I’m wearing giant gray cotton underwear that may or may not have a hole in them.”
Mike rested his forehead on my shoulder, and I could feel his chest shaking with laughter.
“Oh my God, Jordyn.” He planted a kiss on the back of my neck. “Eat first, then we’ll talk about your giant underwear later.”
We ate our late-night carb, meat, and cheese feast as I continued to sit on Mike’s lap.
“I think this is the best food I’ve ever had,” I said through a mouth full of burger.
“I think that’s the tequila talking.”
“Tequila is very smart.” I finished my milkshake with a slurp. “So, what now?”
“Now, you go to bed and I go home.”
“Boo.” I stood and began to clear the table, tossing the empty food wrappers and containers in the kitchen trash. “What’s with you? I thought we were having a good time.”
“We’re having a great time.”
“So, don’t go home right away…unless you have to get up early in the morning, or you are actually getting tired of this.” I made a circular gesture around my face with my index finger. I hoped I was making a joke, but I was nervous that I wasn’t.
“Not possible.” Mike grabbed a cloth from the kitchen counter and wiped down the table. Afterwards, we sat on the couch and talked about the highlights of the last twelve hours.
“Did your parents really get married after only a week?” I said in a loud yawn.
“Yes, Sleeping Beauty, they did,” Mike said in a chuckle.
“That’s a little unconventional. Isn’t it?”
“Well, conventional is definitely not a word I would use to describe my parents, but they both said that it couldn’t have happened any other way. They met and they knew… Jordyn?”
“Hmm?” I was vaguely aware that my eyes were closed.
“You’re falling asleep.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Your eyes are closed.”
“I’m just resting them.”
Mike chuckled, stood from the couch, lifted me in his arms, and carried me to the bedroom. He set me down on the mattress and covered me with the duvet. I felt him press a kiss to my forehead as he knelt by the bed.
“Are you really leaving?” Spending the day with him had been the most fun I’d had in a long time and I wasn’t ready for it to end.
“I think it’s best.”
“Well, I disagree. I’m pretty sure I’m not drunk anymore, but I am really tired.”
“So I’ll let you sleep.”
“Would you sleep with me… I mean, just sleep,” I giggled. “I would definitely be down for other stuff, but I’m pretty exhausted, and I don’t know how good I would be.”
Mike laughed again before crawling into bed behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Did you take your shoes off?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“I have to get up.” I moved his arm and sat up to face him. “Look, I have to wash my face, put on night cream, and I have to wrap my hair in a scarf. It’s not the cutest look, but it’s necessary.”
“Okay.” Mike shrugged.
“Okay?” I asked and narrowed my eyes.
“I grew up with four women and they all slept in silk turbans. The only times I’d ever seen my mom without makeup was when she was wearing a face mask.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I thought all women slept in them until I started dating.” Mike shrugged and I let out a tequila-fueled giggle while imagining him asking the other women he dated about their missing sleep turbans.
“That is fascinating and new information.” I nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”
I went to the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and put on a tank top with sleep shorts. I hesitated before opening the door to reenter the bedroom. This had to be, without a doubt, the strangest day of my life, but also, somehow, the best. I’d met a random handsome stranger, ended up spending th
e day with him while going on what had to be the equivalent of five dates, and now, he was going to see me in my scarf and pajamas. This was wild.
Was I really going to do this?
I took a deep breath and pulled the bathroom door open. Mike was still in the bed and under the covers. He’d stripped down to his tank top, and I could see his jeans and t-shirt were neatly folded on the dresser.
“Oh my God,” he said in an exaggerated gasp.
“What?” I bit my lip and smoothed my tank top over my waist, feeling self-conscious.
“Nothing. You look beautiful.” He smiled. “Get in here.” He patted the spot on the bed I’d recently vacated.
I narrowed my eyes at him and crawled into bed beside him.
“Are you sure about this?” He snaked his arm around my waist and whispered in my ear.
“Yes.” I snuggled into him until my back was against his chest. My bare thighs pressed against his. “Your boxers are still damp.”
“I know,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry.”
“You could always take them off,” I suggested.
“Go to sleep, Jordyn.”
“Good night, Mike.”
“Good night, baby doll.”
I slapped him on the thigh and felt his chest vibrate with laughter as I drifted off to sleep again.
7
When I woke up, it was still dark outside, and Mike, who snored, was still asleep beside me. I turned to face him and studied his chiseled features. His stubble was longer that it was when I met him less than twenty-four hours ago. I traced his thick dark eyebrows with the pad of my index finger and slid it down the bridge of his strong nose. He opened his eyes to find me tracing his bottom lip with my thumb.
“Busted,” he whispered with a smile.
“Hi.” I grinned at him.
“How are you feeling? Are you hungover?”
“Not at all, actually.”
“See, it’s the secret sauce.”
“You mean the Thousand Island dressing?” I giggled.
“No, Jordyn. It’s a secret.” He smirked at me, and I burst out laughing.
Mike wrapped his arm around my waist, pulled me close to him, and kissed me. I draped one of my legs over his waist. He responded by sliding his thigh between my legs and rolling me onto my back while pressing himself between my open legs. He never broke the seal of our lips. The thin fabric of his boxers and my shorts did little to dampen the sensation of Mike’s rolling hips pressing his erection between my sensitive folds.
He slipped a giant palm under my tank top. I felt his fingertips smooth over the delicate skin of my belly and dance across my rib cage until I felt his large hand close over one of the globes of my breasts and gently squeeze. I moaned into his mouth and writhed under him.
“Jordyn.” Mike separated our lips and panted. “I have to tell you something.”
“What? Now?”
“It’s kind of important.”
“Can it wait?” I said, and it almost sounded like a whine.
“I mean, it can, but—”
“Are you married?” I asked. He shook his head. “Do you have an STI?” Another head shake. “Are you really a serial killer?” He shook his head for a third time and tried to stifle a chuckle. “Then, I don’t want to know. Not now.” I grabbed his face and kissed him.
He stopped his protest and melted into our kiss. He painted my collarbone and chest with his lips and tongue as he moved down my torso. I felt him sucking on the skin of my hips. He lavished my navel with long slow licks. I froze when I felt his lips near the waistband of my shorts.
“Um, Mike?”
“Yeah, what?” He jerked his head up to face me. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No, but I should warn you—”
“Yeah, you already told me about your giant panties.” He smirked.
“No, I mean I haven’t been with anyone in a while and I’m way overdue for a spa appointment. It’s like 1976 down there.”
“Good. Was that it?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Well, I haven’t showered since yesterday morning, and we did all that walking around…”
“Okay. Neither of those are deterrents.” He planted a kiss on the skin above the waistband of my shorts. “Do you want this, Jordyn?”
What the hell kind of question was that?
“Yes,” I answered.
“Good.” He peeled my shorts down my thighs. “Whoa. These panties are huge.” He grinned up at me.
“Shut up.” I tapped him on the top of the head with my finger. He hooked his fingers into the elastic of my underwear and slid them down my legs until they met my shorts, which were bunched up around my ankles. He freed one foot from my panties and pajamas before spreading my thighs.
“You’re beautiful everywhere,” he whispered before planting a kiss on my inner thigh, eliciting a small whimper from me. He brushed a thick fingertip through my labia and parted my curls before smoothing his tongue over my crevice and the small sensitive bundle of nerves that had been craving Mike’s attention. The instant his mouth touched my clit a wave of pleasure and warmth radiated through my entire body. His hands slid under my ass, lifting and holding me in position. I began to moan and roll my hips in rhythm with his gentle licks and kisses. He rolled me onto my side and lifted one of my legs in the air as he continued to explore every inch of flesh between my thighs.
“Jesus Christ, Jordyn.” He rolled me onto my belly and continued to taste me as I grabbed a pillow to muffle the squeals Mike was causing. Suddenly, the pillow was pulled away. “No,” he panted. “I need to hear you.” He dove between my legs again. His thick stubble massaged my inner thighs and I felt Mike slide one, then two fingers inside me. The sensations were overwhelming and intense. My muscles began to tighten around his fingers and my knees started to tremble. “That’s right, baby,” Mike coaxed me between licks and kisses. “Come for me.” As had been the custom since the moment I met him, I followed Mike’s lead. Of all the wonderful places he’d taken me, this was my favorite.
“Oh my God. Oh my God.” I sucked in deep breaths in an effort to tether myself to reality as I floated back down to earth.
Mike kissed his way up my belly, closed his lips over one of my nipples and bit down gently. He continued his journey across my body, planting kisses on my chest, collarbone and throat before lying on the bed next to me and turning me to face him.
“Hi,” he whispered to me and smiled.
“Hi,” I responded in a chuckle and smoothed my palm over his rough cheek.
“Can I kiss you?” His breath was heavy with the scent of me. His nose, lips, and cheeks were covered with a thin, glossy layer of what I knew was also me. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
“Yes.” I inched forward and planted a kiss on his lips. “And you don’t have to ask.” Another kiss. “Or jump into fountains.” Kiss. “Or complete the seven labors of Hercules.” Kiss and a chuckle.
“Well, that’s a relief, because there were actually twelve.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm. I mean, I would gladly wrestle a lion for one of these.” He kissed me again. “But it’s a relief to know I don’t have to.”
“You’re silly.”
“I like you, Jordyn,” he whispered. My heart swelled and I couldn’t hold back a grin when I answered.
“I like you, too.”
“I mean, I really like you. I don’t want this to be a one-day thing. This has been the best not-a-date of my life, and I want more.”
I smiled and I felt my eyes stinging. This felt like the perfect moment, but there was one big problem.
“But I live on the other side of the country, and I’m leaving on Tuesday.”
We stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.
“But…I don’t know… If things go well with my interview, I’d be moving here. You could not-date me all you want then.” I expected Mike to at least smile at my joke, but instead, he wrapped a hand around m
y shoulder and squeezed.
“Jordyn, I really have to tell you something.”
“Ugh, not this again.” I rolled my eyes. “We’re both alcohol-free, in this bed, and you weren’t scared off by my scarf and giant underwear,” I said. He grinned at me, and I traced one of his dimples with my finger. “I was kind of hoping we could…” I trailed off and waggled my eyebrows suggestively.
“I’m sorry. I would love that, but I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?” My brain was whirring, trying to latch on to an explanation for Mike’s weird behavior. “Do you have an issue with”—I pointed to his waist—“because it’s fine. We can just hold each other, or I could—”
“What? No! No. I’m fine. I’m great, actually. No issue at all with that, but that’s not the reason I can’t be with you.”
“Oh my God, you are married.” I tried to sit up.
“No.” Mike groaned in frustration and wiped a hand over his face. “I’m sucking at this, so I’m just gonna say it.”
“Say what?” My heart was pounding.
“Mike is short for Micah.”
Micah... Micah...
Why the hell did that name sound so familiar?
“Micah?” I whispered, hoping if I said it out loud, it would shake loose some memory.
“Micah…Grayson,” he whispered.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my fucking God.
“You flew here to interview with my company.”
8
Micah fucking Grayson.
Founder and CEO of Grayson Technology.
I jumped out of bed. Mike’s eyes flicked downwards, and I realized that I was still naked from the waist down. I snatched the duvet off of the bed to cover myself, revealing the giant tent Mike had pitched in his boxers. He looked down and quickly covered himself with a pillow.
“Please, tell me this is one of your jokes,” I pleaded with him. “Please tell me you’re lying.” Deep down, I knew it was the truth. The CEO of my dream job, my escape from the well-meaning, loving, but too-watchful eyes of my parents, had his head between my legs twenty minutes ago.
