Plus One

by Aleatha Romig

  “That’s fantastic. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Kevin told me at the wedding. He said not to tell. Besides, I didn’t figure you’d care. The weekend…”

  “Stop,” Duncan says. “I told you that I care about you. Your family, no matter how crazy or fun they are, are part of you. I care.

  “I tell you what,” he adds. “Let’s make a new deal?”

  “What kind of deal?” I ask apprehensively.

  “No more qualifiers. Not a weekend or a week. Not a month or even a year. Miss Jones, I promise to be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had until I’m not anymore.”

  How can I turn down such an honest offer?

  “Oh,” he adds. “And I promise to make you come more than any other boyfriend.”

  “You’ve already achieved that status.” I say sheepishly.

  He lifts my chin. “Damn, I love to watch you blush.” Before I can reply, he adds, “Would you like to know something you’ve achieved on my end?”

  I’m not sure I can handle the answer.

  “If you want to tell me.”

  “Despite the rumors you’ve heard, I don’t sleep with women.”

  I’m taken aback. “What? Men?”

  Duncan’s laugh fills my apartment, forgetful of Shana down the hall. “No. I’m being literal. I have sex, protected. I hook up. I don’t sleep. Rarely has anyone come to my place. Even if she does, I have her driven home, drive her home, or call her a cab. If we end up at her place or a hotel, I leave. There have been one or two drunken nights that I can’t totally account for, but sleeping… four nights in a row.” He shakes his head. “Never.”

  “Really?” I ask amazed. “But you knew when I said we would be away that it would mean sleeping.”

  “And I seized the opportunity.”

  I run my hand over his chest. “And you’re asking me to your place? You do realize that will make night five.”

  “Yes, my math skills are rather impressive. I know that four plus-one is five. And if you add another plus-one, it will be six. Would you like me to continue?”

  “You really want to try?” I ask.

  “I want to try until either of us can’t.”

  His shirt blurs as tears threaten my vision. “I’ve been promised forever and it was a lie. I guess I like the honesty of for now.”

  “If we can go back to my place, I hope you’ll let me try for a bonus round on making you come. I feel I have a status to maintain.”

  “Oh, Mr. Willis, for each night that ends in literal sleeping, there better be one or two attempts at increasing your record.”

  He laughs and reaches for my hand. “Let’s pack. When does Shana’s plane leave?”

  “Wednesday, weather permitting.”

  Duncan sits on the edge of my bed watching my every move as we chat quietly about nothing and everything. I gather clothes and other items, placing them in a pile, ready to pack.

  Duncan lifts something from the bed, rises, and moves my direction, his green eyes zeroing in on only me.

  He’s so damn sexy.

  “Speaking of your assortment,” he says revealing my only sexy nightgown—one I had to dig to the bottom of my drawer to find—his grin quirks. With the material held only by the spaghetti straps, his eyebrows dance. “I like this,” he says. “You forgot to pack this for our trip to Indiana.”

  “I didn’t think it was appropriate with my grandma and parents.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, I like inappropriate.”

  “I have noticed.”

  Nonchalantly, he lifts and drops his shoulders. “It’s okay. Personally, I like what you wore to sleep over the weekend. I was hoping you’d consider wearing, or should I say, not wearing the same thing.”

  Just his suggestion heats my skin, sending a tingle from my toes all the way to my scalp. “So no negligee?” I ask, reaching for it.

  He lifts his arm, pulling the negligee out of my reach. “I didn’t say that. Tonight, I’ll provide the music while you take this off.”

  I brush my lips over his and this time, reach successfully for the nightgown. “Oh, no, Mr. Willis. If you want this nightgown off…” I hold up the skimpy material. “…I’m not the one doing the striptease.” I eye him up and down. “Yes, I think I might like that.”

  “Fuck,” he moans, reaching for my hand and pulling me close. “I’m getting hard just thinking about this.”

  I wiggle away. “Then let me grab a few things for tonight and we can take care of that.”

  Duncan follows me toward my closet. “Today’s Monday. I think that you should bring a couple days’ clothing.”

  I’M ACTUALLY NERVOUS as I open the door to my apartment. I’m Duncan Willis. I don’t do nervous. Then again, I don’t do sex without condoms or sleepovers. I gaze over at Kimbra and remember why everything is different.

  It’s her.

  In the course of a week, she’s turned my life upside down.

  I remind myself it hasn’t been a week, but three years.

  Never has Duncan Willis waited that long for his desire. Never have I gone without nor has my want been denied me. It is especially true of business. Once my sights were set, I achieved.

  Women have been different. Kimbra was different.

  Like I’d said, I don’t chase women; they chase me.

  Kimbra Jones was always so close and yet so far. Until now.

  I lean down and kiss her cheek. “Welcome.”

  Opening the door wide, I make a grand gesture for Kimbra to enter. Her eyes open as round as saucers as she takes in the space and I hit switches, bringing the penthouse to life.

  It’s then that I remember our bouquet.

  Having her here in my penthouse is another flower.

  Kimbra takes a few steps and begins to turn.

  I watch as she rotates, showing me all her curves from every angle. Even though that isn’t the reason she spins, a smile breaks across my face as I enjoy the view. When she stills, she stares toward the windows and the view beyond, filled with the green illuminated Empire State Building.

  I flick another switch, causing the fireplace to roar to life and music to fill the air.

  “I should probably apologize,” I say.

  “Why would you apologize?” she asks, her voice overflowing with the appreciation that doesn’t seem to be able to be contained in her sparkling blue eyes. “This place is amazing.”

  “It’s just an apartment. I should apologize, because if I were thinking, there’d be a flower here—or two—one for the first night you spent here.”

  Kimbra’s head moves back and forth as she reaches for my face, holding my cheeks in the palms of her hands. “I don’t need flowers. I loved the ones you brought tonight to my place.” She smiles shyly. “Bringing them over, creating a reason to visit… well, it felt special.”

  I reach for her waist and pull her closer. “Each one is special.”

  “Duncan, our bouquet is good.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I want each experience to be special.”

  “It is,” she says with a chaste kiss. “Now show me around. This place is huge. I can’t wait to see your pink room.”

  “My pink room?” I ask, wondering what she means. “Is that like a red room toned down?”

  Kimbra laughs as she tugs my hand toward the windows. “No. I can’t believe you even know about a red room.” Her head moves with each word. “That. Is. Not. What. I. Meant.”

  “Okay, good to know. I mean, it doesn’t have to be out of the question. It would take a few days to construct…” I pull my phone from my pocket. “…but don’t underestimate my ability. Remember, I have Amazon Prime. First, we need to make a list: handcuffs, nipple clamps, one of those flip bars…”

  She shakes her head and slaps my shoulder. “Stop. I don’t even want to know how you know any of that. When you were in my childhood bedroom, you said you had a pink room with a canopy.”

  “Oh,” I
say with a laugh. “I did, but I don’t.”

  “Is there anything else you’d like to confess?”

  I shrug. “I’m not against the other option. I mean this app needs to be good for something.” I show her my screen. “They have a starter kit!”

  Her head moves back and forth faster.

  “Come on, I agree a starter kit may not be the way to go, but that shopping list was kind of hot. Admit it.”

  “No.”

  A laugh rumbles from my chest. “Fine. Come this way.” I lead her toward the windows, open the balcony door, and lead her outside.

  “Duncan, this view is breathtaking.”

  I pull her close and look down into her shining blue eyes as loose strands of her hair float around her face. City sounds combine with the music coming through the open door as a cool evening breeze surrounds us. Tucking an auburn strand behind her ear, I couldn’t agree more. “Yes. It’s absolutely breathtaking. I’ve been breathless for nearly three years.”

  She cuddles toward my chest.

  “Are you cold?” I wrap her in my arms and pull her against me. “We can go inside.”

  “No.” Her voice is muffled against my shirt. “I don’t ever want to move.”

  My cheeks rise at the perfect way she fits in my embrace. I kiss the top of her head. “I’d like that too. But I promised you a king-sized bed and something about coming…”

  Her gaze glistens as she looks up. “I think you’ve accomplished that more than once.”

  “If memory serves, not since last night. That’s too long of a dry spell. I’ll never manage that soreness we discussed with such a light schedule.”

  “You have, but I like your persistence.”

  I kiss her lips, softly at first, but as the city twinkles below and the faint stars shine above, it deepens. When we finally separate, she rests her head against my chest, sighs, and holds tightly to my waist. We stand unmoving for a few minutes as her body melts toward mine.

  I kiss her hair again. “I have an idea.”

  “You do? As long as it doesn’t involve Amazon Prime, we’re good.”

  “You really need to give that idea more consideration. Our list could entail anything. They sell everything!”

  Kimbra stifles a yawn as she shakes her head. “We can look… I mean, it isn’t as though I don’t have an electric toothbrush.”

  “You do?” I ask surprised.

  “Enough. What’s your idea?”

  “We’ve both had a long day…” I reach for her hand and entwine our fingers. “Come this way.”

  I lead her back into the penthouse, pointing out the obvious—kitchen, office, workout room, and library—until we reach the master bedroom. “And here it is.”

  Kimbra runs the tips of her fingers over the beige comforter as she inspects the footboard. “Who does your laundry?”

  “That’s a strange question.”

  She nods as her smile grows. “Whoever they are, they seem to have faded your pink bedspread.” She looks toward the ceiling. “And someone stole your canopy.”

  “Yes, that’s what happened.”

  She walks to the window. “Is this another balcony?”

  “The same. They’re connected.”

  “Duncan, this is lovely. It’s so big.”

  I smirk.

  Kimbra giggles. “This is where you say… ‘that’s what they all say.’”

  “I would, but like I told you, I haven’t brought many women here.”

  “This whole place… why? Why have so much space and not use it?”

  I don’t answer; instead, I open the door to the walk-in closet. “I’ll get your suitcase in a minute and you can hang your dresses in here.” I then walk to the open door to the bathroom. “And here is where that toothbrush goes.”

  “Really? I usually keep it in the bedside drawer.”

  It’s my turn to shake my head. She’s so damn cute. And then I have the vision of her and her vibrator—otherwise known as her toothbrush. “Remember the striptease you did for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think I’d enjoy watching you brush your teeth.”

  “There’s a problem. I didn’t bring it. Earlier today I was specifically told not to use it.”

  “Who would demand something so personal as poor oral hygiene?”

  “I believe it was my—”

  “Boyfriend. Say it, Kimbra. Say it aloud, not to your family, but here, to me. We left pretend and make-believe in Indiana. Say it so I know you believe this is real.”

  Her blue eyes scan my bedroom and then me. The silence grows. Just as I’m about to speak, she does.

  “My boyfriend.”

  My grin quirks. “Who is that?”

  “You.”

  I step toward her, making her take a step backward. We repeat the process until she’s backed against the wall. “My name?”

  “Duncan… Duncan Willis.”

  With her caged between my arms and my body pressed against hers, I use my most commanding tone. “All together, Miss Jones. The whole thing.”

  She swallows as her blue gaze locks on mine. “Duncan Willis is my boyfriend. I’m his girlfriend. And this is real.”

  Her reward is a lingering kiss. As her body melts against mine, I pull away, reach for the bathroom light switch, and press the button. “My idea was this…” I point toward the rarely used garden tub. When I turn back to Kimbra, her expression tells me she agrees.

  “Oh, Duncan, that sounds heavenly.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Kimbra settles her sexy round ass between my spread legs as the warm bubbly water laps over her breasts and she leans back against my chest.

  “Ah…” she sighs.

  Her hair is piled high on top of her head, and I can’t resist kissing her long, slender neck.

  “Why do you have such a large apartment if you never share it?”

  “I share it. My parents and brother come over. Mike, Kel, and the kids visit.”

  She cranes her neck to look at me. “You have a brother?”

  “I do…”

  She rubs her hands up and down my legs as I talk about Trevor and tell her more about my family. She laughs at some of the stories from our childhood. He’s only two years younger than I am, but in reality, we’re nothing alike. He’s a successful engineer who spends his days constructing bridges that go from figures to sketches, to models, to giant structures. Where I see logistics, distribution, and markets, he sees construction and infrastructure. He makes a good living, but wealth was never his dream, much like our parents.

  Kimbra’s response time slows as we lie in the warm water with only music and the faint popping of bubbles as our backdrop. For a moment I think she’s fallen asleep, when she quietly asks, “You did it, didn’t you?”

  “Got the most amazing woman I know into my tub? I most certainly did.”

  “No,” she says, not looking at me. “You accomplished everything the agency scout promised Tessa. The airplane, big house, and money.”

  Her words zap me. It’s the truth I’ve hidden. “I didn’t do this for her. I have no desire to ever have her back. Don’t ever think I do. We were just kids.”

  Kimbra’s soapy hand stills on my kneecap beside her.

  “I don’t think that. I think you had a goal after you put yourself back together. It just happened that Mike had a similar dream for a different reason.”

  I swallow the response.

  I don’t know how it happened, but somehow, Kimberly Ann Jones sees the void I’ve carried around for years. And in seeing it, she is filling it.

  I run my hands over her stomach and breasts as her head falls backward. “Kimbra, I don’t usually talk about this… but I want to.” I kiss her hair. “You make me do all sorts of things I don’t usually do.”

  “I’m quite fond of many of the things you do. I’ll tell you which is my favorite in the morning.”

  I take a deep breath. “I didn’t realize what I was doing at first, what my goal
was or why I’d set out to accomplish it. I don’t even think Mike knew. We both wanted success. It was my mom who made the connection. It took her years. Yet, in a matter of days, you did too.”

  “I-I…”

  “I’m glad,” I say honestly.

  “Do you think she knows?”

  I close my eyes. “I don’t care.”

  “Duncan, you’re successful. Buchanan and Willis is international. It wouldn’t be hard for her to learn—”

  I cut her off. “That may have been part of my motivation when Mike and I began our endeavor, but it isn’t any longer. I no longer cringe when her face shows up on a movie screen or in a magazine. She had an impact on my life, but it’s over.”

  “Has she married? Had kids?”

  I grip her shoulders. “I don’t know. She keeps her personal and professional life separated. The thing is that I don’t care. I could find out if I wanted to. I don’t.

  “I want to be truthful with you, Kimbra. I want you to know me, the real me. And I want the same from you. I think it was your family. Seeing you there. You allowed me to see that side of you, one that’s so real, so different than the fantastic, polished professional.” My grip morphs to an embrace as I hug her tightly against my chest. “You trusted me with the real you. I want to trust you with the real me.”

  When I loosen the embrace, she slowly spins to her knees in front of me, causing the water to slosh around the tub. Once we’re facing one another, she cocks her head to the side. “It’s time for the real truth, the make-or-break deal. Are you ready?”

  I nod, unsure where this will go.

  “Peanut butter or jelly?”

  I smile at the way she can make everything casual and fun, and then I find my serious tone. “Alone, definitely jelly. I can do peanut butter if they’re together, but even then, it has to be creamy and only on white bread.”

  “Yes!” she proclaims. “I agree. Why have healthy bread with peanut butter and jelly?”

  Our lips find one another. Her amazing, bubble-covered tits slide over my chest. As my hands roam, her nipples bead.

  “Ride me, baby.”

  Our legs move until she’s over me. As we come together, her head falls to my shoulder.

  “Oh,” she murmurs.

  This feels different, like the signing of a deal. I gave her my true self and she did the same. With those realities floating around us, we’re sealing the agreement. There’s no urgency as we move to a slower melody.