by Karen Deen
Emily radiates love. Her eyes glisten as she retells her story. Everything she says makes sense. Grant has this kind of pull on me and I don’t even know how to explain it.
“I am so confused, Emily. When Grant walks into the room, I can’t function. Being friends is all it can be. But it’s like he’s not buying it. It’s like he thinks the words I say are all lies and what I’m really saying is I want him to eat me alive.”
Emily bursts out laughing and wakes Thomas. He starts to cry. Emily reaches for her son and when he’s nestles into her arms, he settles.
“Oh, I know that look, Zara. How do you think Thomas was created?” We both giggle.
“My audition is only a few weeks away and I am so close to my dream. I can almost smell and almost touch it. Since I was a young girl, all I wanted to do was dance for the New York Dance Company. Years of training, auditioning and pain have all come to this. My past injury ruled me out but this time I can taste it. Losing focus now would be the end of the dream. I am too old to start again. It would not be fair to Grant to start something and then move away to pursue my dream.” Hesitating to tell Emily the truth, I whisper, “Part of me is also scared I won’t be able to leave him. That regret would eat away at me for the rest of my life. That’s not fair to any relationship.”
Tears well and I reprimand myself for feeling this way about I man I’ve known for only twenty-four hours. Emily prepares to feed Thomas when she answers.
“You can’t stop love, Zara. You also can’t choose when it finds you. Talk to Grant. Tell him everything you have just told me. Don’t discount him until you have given him a chance. Your past man obviously was a total dick. I am sure there is more to that story as there is to mine and Zach’s. Another day, another place and we’ll talk about that. Now it’s just important for you to know Grant is a good guy. He might appear all alpha male, domineering and straight talking. Deep down though, he’s the biggest softie. He just finds it hard to show it. Again, that’s Grant’s story and I’m sure he will show you that side if you give him a chance. Just think about it, Zara. What I’m saying to you is not because Grant is my brother-in-law, it’s because I see the way you two are together. Nothing should stop you when you find your ‘one’. He wants you just as much as you want him, even though you are scared to admit it.”
“Christ … Emily, I want him so much. Never have I been so close to tearing someone’s clothes off and letting them take me. With him, it’s every time we’re alone. I fantasize about what he can do to me. And the thought of him naked…!” My cheeks redden with embarrassment.
Emily bursts out laughing. “Sorry, Thomas,” she coos. “I need to stop scaring you like that. I have a feeling you might need to get used to me laughing while your Aunty Zara is around.”
That makes me laugh. “Emily, stop it. You are as bad as Sammy and Soph, who’ve already made me a seat at your family table. What the hell am I going to do? Maybe we need one night of passion, so I can get it out of my system. Then maybe, he would let me go.”
“One thing I can assure you of is after the first time I fuck you all night long, there’s no way you will want me to let you go.” Grant’s deep voice sounds behind me. I feel him grow closer and then he whispers in my ear. “If that is what you want, baby, I’m ready when you are.”
I’m frozen in place and sweating all at the same time. My face heats up and I know it’s colored bright red. But it’s not just from embarrassment. Grant’s voice did what it always does when his tone is low and dirty. It makes me succumb to temptation and want to hand over complete control.
Not wanting to turn around, I slowly look at Emily. She’s trying to hide her smile that blatantly says, ‘I told you so’. Looking at the two of us she knows I’m fighting a losing battle, and she’s just confirmed I already know. Stevenson men don’t give up easily.
“Grant, where’s Zach and the twins?” Emily asks, letting me know we are on our own. Grant doesn’t answer, his focus still on me, causing the small hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.
“Grant. Over here. It’s me… Emily. The lady with the baby,” she snickers.
Grant moves to the side of me so I can see him. “They met Mom and Dad downstairs and are getting Gruffy a coffee before they come back up. Sorry, Emily, but we need to leave.”
“Right now?”
“Zara, let’s go, please.” He takes my hand and pulls me up straight into his arms. This is not helping me get my body under control. My hands fall to his to balance myself, and god it feels good. Zach clears his throat as he enters, and I’m brought back to reality.
“Nice to see you, Emily,” Grant says warmly. “And Zach, I will talk to you tomorrow.” Grant relinquishes his hold on me, so he can kiss Emily and Thomas. After he shakes Zach’s hand, they lean in for a man hug. I’m still recovering and can’t seem to form a single word.
“Say goodbye, Zara,” Grant directs me.
Whoa! Hang on a minute. I am nobody’s puppet. His bossing me around certainly snaps me out of it.
“I am perfectly capable of speaking for myself, thank you very much,” I respond.
“Zach, it was lovely to see you. Emily, thank you for everything. Thomas is amazing, and you’re right, he has a very special soul.” My look into Emily’s eyes lets her know how much I appreciate the chat. Her insight into Grant was greatly needed.
“I am here anytime you want to visit or chat, Zara. I have a feeling I will be seeing quite a bit of you.” She winks at me before turning her attention to the commotion approaching the door. The twins have arrived. My mind is still reeling from Grant and his declaration of wanting to fuck me. He’s right, we need to get out of here. Fast.
We say goodbye to everyone and, as we leave Emily’s room, Grant takes my hand and marches us down to the lift. The ride down to the ground floor is silent but only due to having to share the space. How exactly am I going to get myself out of this? Tell him I didn’t mean it? He would never believe me.
We reach the car and I can see he’s struggling just as hard as I am.
“Grant, we need to talk,” I say while looking at my feet.
“Get in the car, Zara. We are not talking here.”
Oh, no you don’t. “Don’t you dare talk to me like you own me!”
Grant steps forward causing me to step back until I’m pressed between him and the car door. I feel the rise and fall of his chest brush my breasts. “Let me assure you, Zara, I know I don’t own you and I am not the type of man to ever want to own a woman. So, get your ass in the car now before I can no longer control my actions. You can’t stand here and talk about wanting me to fuck you hard all night long and have it not send me crazy. Yes, we need to talk but not in a hospital carpark.” He takes a long pause and his breathing slows. “You have no idea what you are doing to me, Zara.”
Slowly dragging his hand up my arm, he cups my face before gently pulling me into an embrace, my head laying on his chest. His heart beats steady and hard. “Please, Zara, get in the car so I can take you home and we can talk when we get there,” he whispers. “I think we both need time to calm down.” With that he pulls me away from the car and opens the door for me. Stunned by what he’s said and done, I slide into my seat without so much as a word and fasten my seatbelt. How can I resist that chemistry? I need to be strong enough to say no to whatever he offers. Whoever said listen to your head is crazy!
Grant
My head’s warring with other parts of me on the drive to Zara’s apartment. Whoever said listen to your head, needs to be more specific which head they mean.
My brain tells me to slow it down and listen to what Zara needs to say. There’s a big reason behind why she’s trying to keep her distance. No normal person fights this kind of attraction unless there’s a major reason. I need to respect that and be prepared to listen to her rationalization.
Though my other head in my pants is as hard as steel. There’s not one piece of rational thinking going on in there. All my cock wants
to do is take her up on her offer of fucking her hard, all night long. Exactly what I’ve been dreaming about since I met her. She has my body on high alert. Every time she looks at me with that spirited soul, I know I want her more. The pounding of her heart when I held her in my arms, told me she wants it too. I don’t know how to pull back my thoughts of having her under me.
“Grant!” Zara suddenly screams.
“Fuck!” I slam on the brakes, the Audi skidding to a halt at the red light I almost ran.
My heart races and beside me, I can could hear Zara’s exhaling heavily. “I am so sorry,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “I should’ve been concentrating more instead of being so distracted. I need to get you home safely. How much further is your apartment?”
Her shoulders visibly relax. “Just up the road, turn right into the second intersection. We’re almost there. That is, if you think you can manage to get us there safely.”
For some reason, her glare makes me laugh. It breaks the tension even though Zara looks like she might slap me. I probably deserve it and that just makes me laugh all the more. I can almost see her thoughts…kill Grant Stevenson or strip him naked. I wink and her nostrils flare. Here we are, two grown adults acting like teenagers with raging hormones we don’t know how to control.
Zara finally starts to relax, and she starts to giggle. There is something about the sweet giggle of a beautiful woman. We start laughing so much, we both get tears in our eyes. I can’t remember that last time I ever laughed so hard. A car horn sounds, startling us both. The light is green and a long line of cars behind me wait impatiently. I slowly accelerate and head down to Zara’s street.
I pull over to the side of the road, and instead of making a move inside, we both sit in silence tying to gather ourselves. It’s me who speaks. “Well, I have to say, that certainly broke the moment.”
“If I didn’t laugh, I would have screamed at you. We both know that wouldn’t have been pretty for either of us.” Despite the warning, Zara still smiles brightly.
“You’re pretty hot when you’re mad at me. I think I’ve seen that side of you a few times already.” I can’t help myself. Straight away the tension swings from light and funny, to the building of our off-the-charts sexual tension.
Zara’s smile fades. “Grant, we need to talk. I can’t do this. That statement doesn’t stop you, though, so I need to fully explain. Do you think you can behave yourself enough to come up for coffee?”
“Coffee? Just coffee?”
“Yes, Grant! Coffee. You know the brown liquid that smells great, tastes even better and is known to calm the most savage Zara in the morning. Understand? Think you can manage just coffee?”
I contemplate what’s been said. Did I want just coffee? Hell, no. Did I want to know what the hell is going on in that stunningly beautiful head? Hell, yes.
“Coffee and a chat sounds great. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to need anything to keep me awake tonight. I think I’ll be doing that all on my own. So… yes, Zara, I would love to come up for coffee. Then home to spend a lonely night, in my bed trying to get some sleep.”
“Jesus, Grant! Can you ever keep the conversation clean?” At least that earns a laugh as she tries to open her door. I grab her leg.
“Please, wait. It really is important to me.” Jumping from the car, I see Zara visibly relax. Opening the door is a small thing but so ingrained in me that I want Zara to know what it’d be like to be with me. She would always be treated like a treasure. The same way my father treats my mother. Their love is precious and everlasting. It’s a love you never doubt when you see them together.
“Thank you. Sorry for not waiting for you to open the door, I’m just not used to being looked after like this. I didn’t do it to be painful.”
“You. Painful. Those two words wouldn’t describe you, Zara. Maybe stubborn, sassy, strong, independent… but not painful. Let’s head upstairs, shall we? It may be safer for me that way.”
“You could be right.”
Zara starts to rummage in her bag while looking for her keys. Why do women always have such huge handbags but can never seem to find anything? Alesha and Lilly are exactly the same. Lilly especially. Multiple times, I’ve seen her upturn her handbag on the office desk while looking for a lip gloss.
Frustration starts to show on Zara’s face. I wonder if it’s the same situation every time she comes home.
“Why do you carry so much junk in your handbag? It can’t all be needed.”
“Grant, if I was you, I would just stand there and look sexy while I find my keys. Or so help me God, the calmness I’m trying to maintain will disappear.”
“Yes, ma’am, I can stand here and look sexy if that’s how you see me. I’m more than happy to be your sexy door man.”
“When I find my keys, I am going to stab you with them, right where it’ll hurt most! You won’t look so sexy then, will you?”
My sassy girl is back.
God, I love that smart mouth of hers. I consider if I should keep poking the bear or close my mouth and let her wage her own battle.
“Got them. Why can’t they invent something that makes your keys stand out in your bag, or doors that don’t need keys anymore, just like cars? My life would be so much simpler.”
Looking at Zara under the soft light of the street lamp has me lost in her beauty. I don’t even hear the rest of her rant. Her beauty is so natural, like the way her loose hair frames her face, or her deep brown eyes that glisten in the light. She draws me in to her hidden sweetness. While its always so hard to look away from those soulful eyes, her lips just look so inviting. How I would love to take them with my mouth to taste, touch, bite, and devour them. They’re so plump and ripe, inviting me even though I’d promised to back off.
I follow her up the stairs and give myself a good stern talk. I’m here to let her talk and not interrupt. I’m all ears if she’s going to tell me the real reason why she needs me to back off.
“My apartment is only small,” she says. “Probably nothing compared to where you live. I don’t need much and running my own business, I can’t really afford a lot. I figure I was better to have a small apartment in a good area than a bigger place in an area I don’t feel safe.”
The hairs on my neck bristle. The thought of her in a place where she’s not safe makes me rage. After seeing the conditions Emily used to live in, I would never want Zara in that situation. That is why we do what we do in our business. We try to improve the housing in areas where people need help. Better conditions but at an affordable price. At the end of the day, we make money but not as much as most developers who are just in it to maximize profit. My parents always feel there’s more to life than money. They are so right.
“Absolutely,” I agree with her assessment. “One day I will tell you some of the situations Emily lived through trying to keep her family safe and a roof over their heads. Do what is best for you, Zara. Most importantly though, stay safe. You already know my views about it from the locked door at the studio. Anyway, I don’t care what your home looks like or the size. If you love it, then I will love it.”
Walking through the door into the apartment, it feels like Zara. Just how I imagined it would be. Neat and clean and everything in order. Clean lines but a hint of creativity and free spirit in the accessorizing. The one thing that interests me the most are the photos lining the wall above the television. They’re all housed in black frames of various shapes and sizes, but it’s her life. I haven’t even had time to talk to Zara about family and friends. She knows so much about mine, but I know nothing about hers. However, each and every photo is a vision of love and laughter and it shows me the start of what I need to know.
“Who is this little cutie here holding a much-loved stuffed bunny rabbit? Her beautiful eyes look very familiar.” I turn to see a shy-looking Zara. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. Yet, she appears to be hesitant to tell me.
“You know that’s me, Grant. You don’t need to pretend I
was cute. I was just me growing up. Nothing special. Actually, just a plain little girl. My family led a fairly quiet life. About as average as you get around here. Being blessed with fantastic parents was a luxury not everyone had. I discovered that once I started school. You have to be thankful for that.”
“What makes you think I’m pretending or making fun of you in that photo? You remind me of Sophia. Cute and cautious. You look like your bunny is your security against all that’s frightening.”
A clearly-relaxed Zara moves to the photo wall.
“My bunny was everything when I was little. She went everywhere with me. Fluffy was her name. I remember, one day I lost her. I’d been playing on the swings at the park and left her behind when Dad called me for ice cream. It wasn’t until that night we discovered she was missing. I cried a river of tears while my dad drove thirty minutes back to that park looking for Fluffy. Someone must have seen her and placed her on the undercover picnic table in case someone came back looking for her. My poor parents were so worried what they were going to do if they couldn’t find her. Luckily, she came home safe and sound to me. I still have her. There have been times as an adult she’s still there to help me through.” Her arm brushes mine and I feel that familiar connection pass between us and my skin tingles.
“I am sorry there are still times you need her. Regardless of what we are, Zara, like I told Samuel, I will always be here as a friend. Lean on me no matter what’s wrong. I will always protect and comfort you. Never doubt that.” Zara isn’t used to someone wanting to protect her. Her eyes drop to the floor and her cheeks flush. Whatever has happened to her has made her feel she has to tackle life on her own. That’s changing right now. I may not be able to make her mine, but I will make her happy and take on her troubles.
Zara moves forward and touches the photo in question. “I always felt safe with her and my parents. It was like I could take on the world. I’m an only child, so my parents gave me everything, but in a way, that never spoiled me. Even though I had their attention, they still made me work for everything I received. No free rides in our house. The way I will be with my own children. I hope. I grew up with respect and values surrounding me. Obviously like you, who’s been taught the little thing of opening doors for women. That is such a dying tradition but so beautiful. You make me feel special when you do it. My dad always did it for my Mum, too. Just one of the many things that showed me how much he loves her.”
