by Pamela Yaye
“Why? I bet they’d trade places with you in a heartbeat.”
“I love the idea of having one special person in my life, for the rest of my life. Don’t you?”
He dodged her gaze. His cell phone rang, and this time Roderick took it out of his pocket and stared at the screen. “It’s my boss. I have to take this call, but I’ll be right back.”
Sighing deeply, Geneviève watched Roderick leave the master bedroom. She cherished the memory of their first kiss, the night they made love and all of the great conversations they’d had, but questioned whether or not he was the right man for her. His actions didn’t match his words, and Geneviève didn’t want to be with someone who played games with her heart—not even a sexy, debonair lawyer with a big heart and a brilliant mind.
Chapter 16
“What the hell is going on?” Mr. Welker demanded, his anger evident in his sharp tone. “Where is Geneviève, and why did she cancel the rest of the European tour?”
Roderick swallowed hard. His tongue felt heavy inside his mouth, rougher than sandpaper, and the lump in his throat was the size of a golf ball. His first thought was to lie, because he didn’t want to disappoint his boss, but he deleted the idea from his mind.
“Answer me, Roderick. I need to know what’s going on...”
Wanting privacy, he strode into the spare bedroom and closed the door. His head was still spinning from his conversation with Geneviève about marriage and babies, but he cleared his mind, and said, “Sir, I’m sorry I didn’t respond to your messages earlier, but—”
“Don’t ‘sir’ me!” he shouted. “Ms. Harris has been calling me nonstop, demanding to know where her daughter is, and her incessant phone calls are driving me nuts.”
Tell me something I don’t know, Roderick thought, pacing the length of the room. Althea and Demi had been blowing up his cell phone for the past three days, and every time he spoke to the momager she sounded frazzled, as if she was at the end of her rope. She demanded to speak to her daughter, but Geneviève refused to take her calls. He sympathized with the single mom, but there was nothing he could do. “I know Ms. Harris is upset, but Geneviève asked me not to tell her family where she’s staying, and I want to respect her wishes.”
“The last time we spoke you assured me everything was fine,” Mr. Welker said. “Geneviève was doing great, her concert reviews were outstanding and you’d outsmarted José Sánchez and his attorney, so what happened? How could things go so bad so quickly? And why didn’t you keep me abreast of what was going on in Madrid?”
Roderick sank into the padded brown armchair in front of the window and massaged his temples. He told his boss about Geneviève’s onstage fall on Tuesday night, her unexpected road trip and her present state of mind. “I advised her to finish the rest of the tour, and even offered to drive her back to Madrid, but she’s adamant about remaining in Vielha.”
“Vielha?” he repeated in a solemn tone. “The town outside of Baqueira-Beret?”
“Yes. Geneviève plans to stay here until the end of the month,” he explained. “She’s taking a break, and there’s nothing I can say or do to change her mind.”
“Roderick, how could you let this happen? I was counting on you to successfully resolve this matter, and so were the other senior partners.”
“I know, sir, and I’m sorry I let you down, but this situation is beyond my control—”
Mr. Welker interrupted him, and Roderick trailed off. His cell phone beeped, cueing him that he had an incoming call, and he glanced at the screen. It was Duane on the line, but he decided to connect with his brother later. His parents were throwing a surprise birthday party for Duane in two weeks, and Roderick was looking forward to the family dinner at his childhood home. He’d mentioned the party to Geneviève days earlier, but now that he knew the pop star had marriage and babies on the brain, he had second thoughts about her being his guest.
“I need you back here to deal with the fallout of Geneviève canceling her tour.”
A war waged in Roderick’s heart and mind. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving Geneviève alone in the secluded resort town, far away from her family and bodyguards. He wanted her to be safe, and worried about her when they were apart. He considered requesting a two-week leave from work, but when he remembered what Geneviève had said about wanting to start a family during her hiatus, Roderick knew he had to leave. Had to put as much distance between them as possible now that he knew what her future plans were. His goal this year was to become partner at his law firm, not a husband and father, and Roderick didn’t want to give Geneviève the wrong idea.
They had everything in common, amazing chemistry and mind-blowing sex, and even though she was exactly his type, the odds were stacked against them, impossible to ignore. Geneviève wanted a family and Roderick wanted a promotion; Althea hated him, and worse still, the pop star was the firm’s biggest client, and his boss would go ballistic if he found out Roderick had slept with Geneviève. “I understand, sir. I’ll make the necessary travel arrangements on Monday.”
“No, I want you back at the office within forty-eight hours.”
Bewildered, Roderick stared down at the phone. He often attended work-related events on the weekends, and met with his colleagues to strategize about potential clients, but he never worked at the law office on Sundays. His boss was punishing him for screwing up in Madrid, but Roderick knew he wasn’t to blame. It was Geneviève’s life, her career, and he’d never stand in the way of her happiness. The truth was, Roderick was proud of her for standing her ground. Geneviève was a pop singer, not a machine, and she deserved to take a break from music.
“Your vacation is over,” Mr. Welker announced in a stern voice. “You’re having a grand ole time skiing, drinking fine wine and socializing with celebrities at the Baqueira-Beret resort, but your clients are going crazy without you here, so pack up and head home.”
His body tensed, and his stomach lurched. Mr. Welker thought he was staying at the fancy five-star resort, but Roderick didn’t correct him. He shuddered to think what would happen if his boss knew the truth. He wasn’t Geneviève’s attorney anymore, but it wouldn’t matter to the senior partner, and Roderick didn’t want to do anything to make waves at the firm. Until he achieved his dreams, he couldn’t do anything to rock the boat—like tell his boss he was staying with Geneviève at her secluded rental cabin in the woods.
“I’ll see you at the office first thing Sunday morning,” Mr. Welker said. “Don’t be late.”
The line went dead, and Roderick pocketed his cell phone. He rested his elbows on his thighs, then scrubbed at his face with his hands. What bothered him most about his conversation with Mr. Welker wasn’t his cold, harsh tone; it was his boss implying that he was a screwup. He’d talk to him first thing Sunday morning and set him straight.
Roderick raised his bent shoulders and stared at the door. For a moment, he thought the radio was on, but when he heard a soft, angelic voice that swelled with emotion, he knew Geneviève was singing in the kitchen. Love filled his heart, and as he listened to Geneviève sing, Roderick realized he’d been fooling himself from day one. Despite his best efforts, he’d fallen hard for the vivacious pop star, and wanted to be the only man in her life.
Stunned by the realization, Roderick sank back into his chair. Geneviève’s confession about wanting to be a wife and mother had spooked him, but he still desired her, adored her and wanted to date her exclusively. Roderick considered his options. He could bury his feelings, or embrace them, and as Roderick rose to his feet he knew what he had to do.
Exiting the spare bedroom, his mind returned to last night. Blindsided by lust, he’d grabbed Geneviève as she’d entered the walk-in closet, and made love to her against the mirrored wall. Eight hours later he could still hear her moans in his ears. Roderick couldn’t think about Geneviève without getting an erection, and wondered how he was going to fu
nction when he returned to New York. He craved her kiss, and every time their lips touched his temperature soared. He had to do a better job of managing his emotions. Of maintaining control. He didn’t want Geneviève to think he was weak, and as he entered the kitchen he chided himself to play it cool, to think, not lust.
It didn’t work. Roderick took one look at Geneviève standing at the sink in her short satin robe, and drooled all over his white V-neck shirt. Marching toward her, he couldn’t think of anything but ravishing her sweet mouth. She was singing in Spanish, swaying her body to the music as she washed the breakfast dishes. He was surprised to see she was still in her pajamas, and wondered why she hadn’t showered and changed yet. Was she mad at him? Did she want him to leave? Was their secret rendezvous over?
His gaze crawled up her legs and along her hips. His palms itched to stroke her, to squeeze and caress her skin, and for the second time in minutes thoughts of making love to her ruled his mind. Roderick gave his head a shake. Making love to her again would be a mistake. They wanted different things out of life, and he didn’t want to lead her on.
But when Geneviève glanced over her shoulder and their eyes met, every rational thought fled his brain and blood shot straight to his groin. He hadn’t touched her yet, but electricity scorched his skin, and Roderick knew it was just a matter of time before he was buried between her legs, pleasing her with his tongue.
Overcome with lust, he came up behind her, slipped his hands inside her robe and stroked her flesh. Roderick showered her cheeks and neck with kisses. He pressed his erection against her bottom, grinding his hips against her flesh to excite her. It worked. Her head fell against his chest, and a sigh escaped her lips. Easy to talk to and laugh with, Geneviève was great company, and Roderick enjoyed being with her—especially in the bedroom. Her confidence and unbridled enthusiasm were a turn-on, and Roderick loved the idea of sexing his favorite pop star on the granite breakfast bar.
“I’m surprised you’re still here.” Turning to face him, she wore a sad smile. “I was sure I’d scared you off with my confession, and figured you were halfway back to Madrid by now.”
An awkward silence descended on the kitchen, and Roderick took a moment to consider his response. He decided to be honest, and hoped she wouldn’t hold it against him. “Geneviève, I’m crazy about you, and I think you’re a dynamic woman...”
“But you’re not looking for anything serious,” she said, finishing the rest of his sentence.
“Oh, so you’re a mind reader now,” he teased. “Go on, tell me more. I want to know what you think.”
“If you insist.” Geneviève clasped his hand, led him over to the beige couch and sat down. “Roderick, it’s obvious you have a lot on your mind, so let’s talk...”
His erection died inside his boxer briefs. Talk? But I don’t want to talk. I want to tear off your robe, bend you over the sink and thrust so deep inside you, you scream my name. His disappointment must have been evident in his demeanor, because she wore a sympathetic smile.
“Don’t give me that face,” Geneviève scolded in a playful voice. “This is important, but don’t worry after we talk you can rock my world.”
Roderick chuckled. The pop star didn’t mince words, always spoke the truth, and her honesty was refreshing. “I’m listening. What’s on your mind?”
“I didn’t tell you about my desire to get married to pressure you to commit to me...”
Sighing inwardly, he nodded in understanding. Thank God. Roderick wasn’t ready for a wife, let alone a baby, but he didn’t want Geneviève to think all he cared about was making money and chasing women. His ex had ruined his faith in relationships, but he couldn’t deny his feelings for the talented singer. He thought about Geneviève all the time, even when they were in the same room, and she was the best lover he’d ever had. They didn’t have sex; they made love, and it was amazing every time—even when she woke him up in the middle of the night for a quickie. He loved her fervor, her spontaneity, and waking up to her mouth on his erection was more electrifying than bungee jumping.
“We have a strong connection, but I don’t expect you to pop the question after a few nights of amazing sex,” she continued. “I want to date you, but I’m not going to force you to commit to me.”
“I understand, and I appreciate your honesty.” Desperate for her, Roderick reached out and stroked her cheek with his thumb. He’d met the right girl at the wrong time, and worried their affair would cost him a partnership at the law firm he loved. Listening to Geneviève share her hopes and dreams had spooked him, made him consider all the things that could go wrong in their relationship if they dated, and no matter how hard Roderick tried he couldn’t shake his doubts. What if Geneviève left him for someone else? Or worse, humiliated him like his ex had?
“Enough talk, Counselor. It’s time for the main event.”
The sound of Geneviève’s low, sultry voice seized his attention, and he surfaced from his thoughts. Grinning, he nuzzled his chin against her face. “I like when you call me counselor.”
“And I like when you kiss me.”
Roderick pressed his lips against her ears, her cheeks, then her mouth. His iPhone rang, filling the living room with hip-hop music, but he continued pleasing her. Caressing him through his clothes, she lowered herself to her knees and pressed her body against his.
Desire spiraled through him, flooding his skin. Roderick couldn’t think of a better way to start the day than by making love to Geneviève, and loved what she was doing with her mouth and hands. Kissing him, she untied the drawstring on his sweatpants, slipped a hand inside his boxers and stroked his erection to life. She nibbled it, caressed and licked it, and Roderick feared their lovemaking would be over before it even started.
His eyes closed, and his head fell back against the couch as her lips worked their magic. She ran the tip of his penis over the outline of her lips then against her teeth, and his toes curled. He gripped the side of the couch to avoid jumping ten feet in the air. He was groaning, cursing, couldn’t stop. It was too much, she was too much, and Roderick didn’t know how much more he could handle. Geneviève was in control, calling the shots, and he enjoyed every minute of it.
“Do you like that?” she whispered in a sexy voice. “Does that feel good?”
He growled in response. The pop star wowed him, did things with her lips, tongue and hands that excited him, and Roderick realized he’d finally met his match in the bedroom. Aroused by her touch, he struggled to control his emotions. To stay in the moment. His head was spinning, his body was throbbing, and he couldn’t think straight.
Sweat drenched his skin. Geneviève blew on his erection, then sucked it into her mouth, inch by inch, sending him over the edge. The move was a game changer, so erotic his eyes rolled back in his head. It was an instant jolt of pleasure, sending a thousand volts of electricity through his body. Every flick of her tongue pushed him closer to the brink of delirium. Clutching his penis in her hands, she used it to trace her nipples and brush it between her breasts.
Gripping his hips, she dug her fingernails into his skin. Roderick watched her intently. His mouth dried and he moaned. Her hair swung over her shoulders, and her big, beautiful breasts bounced as she moved. It was the sexiest image Roderick had ever seen. Geneviève had no equal in the bedroom, and her confidence made him desire her even more. She was doing everything right, and he was so turned on by her sexual prowess his erection swelled inside her mouth. His gaze zeroed in on her dark, erect nipples and Roderick wanted to suck them, lick them, squeeze them in his hands—
His cell phone rang, then buzzed. He wanted to take it out of his pocket, yank open the front door and toss it into the snow. There was nothing better than being intimate with Geneviève, and Roderick didn’t want anything to interrupt their red-hot make-out session.
Geneviève reached into the pocket of her robe, took out a gold packet and
ripped it open. Disappointment tempered his excitement, but he concealed his emotions. He’d never had unprotected sex before, but Roderick was tempted to break the rules with her. He didn’t want any physical barriers between them, wanted to feel every delicious inch of Geneviève’s body. After making love in the shower on Wednesday night they’d had an open and honest conversation about their sexual history, and even though they both had a clean bill of health, Roderick knew they had to use protection. He couldn’t risk Geneviève getting pregnant with his child.
The sound of her voice captured his attention, and his thoughts faded into the background.
“I can’t wait anymore,” she said, kissing the corner of his lips. “I need you inside me...”
Geneviève rolled the condom onto his erection, climbed onto his lap and lowered herself onto his shaft. Biting her bottom lip, she moved against his body, ever so slowly. Enjoying the view, he committed every detail of their lovemaking to memory. Her feverish moans, the feel of her soft, delicate hands against his skin, her hair tickling his face, the scent of her perfume.
Roderick devoured her mouth, feasted hungrily on her lips. Geneviève was more than just his lover; she was his dream girl, and no one else would ever take her place in his heart. From the moment he’d arrived in Madrid, he’d been trying to resist his feelings for her, but he’d failed miserably. He was weak for her, and now that they were lovers his desires for her were stronger than ever, impossible to ignore or control.
Sunshine splashed through the windows, creating a halo around Geneviève’s naked body, and he marveled at her beauty. Soaked it all in. Every sensation, every touch, every word. Geneviève was a vocal and enthusiastic lover, and he enjoyed her playfulness. They moved as one body, perfectly in sync, and it took everything in him not to blurt out the truth.
“I’ve fallen hard for you, Roderick, and I love making love to you,” she confessed, lowering her mouth to his. “You make me feel so damn good...”
