At Her Own Risk

by Rachael Duncan

  He wipes his mouth with a napkin before setting it on his plate. “I made sure of it.”

  His evasiveness is starting to annoy me. I arch my eyebrow. “How?” I ask again, my tone firmer.

  “I gave him some money.” His nonchalance only irks me more.

  “How much did you pay him?” My eyes must be as wide as saucers as I stare at him in disbelief.

  “Enough.” I open my mouth to complain about his vagueness but he holds his hand up. “It’s not a big deal, Paige. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. I don’t trust David so I made sure he wouldn’t be around again.”

  “What’s stopping him from showing up anyway?” It’s not like the money is an impenetrable shield keeping him away.

  “He signed a contract. In exchange for the money, he would cease and desist from engaging in any contact with any persons working for Bank of the States and Paige Stewart. I think that’s how my attorney worded it.”

  I’m actually speechless. If he won’t tell me how much he gave him, it must be a substantial amount. The fact that he doesn’t even bat an eye about it is astonishing.

  “Look, I don’t give a shit about money. You are what matters most to me. I saw a problem, so I solved it. Don’t get stuck in your head and freak out about this, okay?” He glances down at my empty plate. “Are you finished?” I nod and he stands before grabbing both of our plates. “I’ll throw these in the dishwasher real quick then we can go snuggle on the couch.” A small smile touches his lips and I know he wants desperately to drop this.

  “Okay.” A few minutes later, we’re lying with my back to his front, his arms wrapped around me. The thing I like most about our relationship is neither one of us feels the need to fill the silence, but he’s been off since we finished eating. His usual calm demeanor is tainted with tension. He’s somewhat distant like he has something on his mind. Of course, I’m one to talk. But now I feel like an ass for souring our pleasant evening.

  “So,” he says.

  “So,” I mimic as I roll my body to look at him.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

  “Don’t hurt yourself,” I say, hiding my grin in his chest.

  “Keep it up and I’ll be forced to kiss the shit out of you so you can’t be a smartass anymore,” he warns.

  “If that threat is meant to deter me, you’re going to have to rethink your strategy.”

  “Move in with me.”

  I freeze, my eyes widening in surprise. My mouth opens and closes trying to respond, but nothing comes out.

  “That got you to be quiet, didn’t it?” His smug expression would normally garner some sort of retort to knock him down a few pegs, but I’ve got nothing.

  Is he serious, or did he say this to shut me up?

  “Ar-are you serious?” I ask when he keeps looking at me expectantly.

  “I wouldn’t joke about something like this.” I wish we were in that dark restaurant so I could hide from his penetrating gaze. There’s nowhere to hide, no sarcastic comment to shield me as he waits for an answer.

  “This is . . . unexpected. You just kind of threw it out there.” My mind is racing as I process what he just asked me. I just got used to the idea of being in a relationship, and now he wants us to live together?

  “You know I’ve never been one to beat around the bush. I want it, I go after it.” Sean is rarely this serious. Our connection is built on bad pickup lines, silly jokes, and smartass comments. But as I look into his blue eyes, it’s as if the weight of the world depends on the words that will come out of my mouth.

  “We’ve only been together for about two months. Don’t you think we’re rushing this?” I ask gently.

  “Is there a book I don’t know about? A dating how-to that dictates when it’s okay to move in with your girlfriend?” He’s been a very patient man, chasing after me way longer than anyone would have, but I sense his irritation. “We didn’t just meet, Paige. We’ve known each other for over two years. In which time you’ve shown me what a pain in the ass you can truly be, and I’ve shown you how fucking awesome I am.”

  I throw my head back and laugh, thankful for the levity he’s providing while I’m internally freaking out.

  “Look, I know you better than you think. You have a cool exterior, giving very little away, but on the inside you’re panicking. You’re going through all the reasons we shouldn’t, but you’re not focusing on the one reason we should,” he tells me.

  “And what’s that?” I ask barely above a whisper.

  “We’re meant for each other.”

  Five small words hit me square in the chest and steal my breath away. I’ve had this thought a few times over the last couple months, but hearing him say it out loud brings on emotions I didn’t know I had.

  “But what about my condo?” I ask, holding on to the last of my reservations.

  “Sell it.” He makes it sound so simple, but it’s not.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” he asks immediately.

  Because I’ll be homeless if you break up with me.

  Pushing me off his chest, he turns to face me and grabs my hands. “You need to stop waiting on us to fail. We’re solid, gorgeous. Trust in that. Trust in us.”

  I search his face for any indication that I should say no, but can’t find one. He’s nothing but sincere and genuine, leaving me with only one answer. “Okay.”

  His eyes widen before a slow smile stretches across his handsome face. I think I shocked him with my answer as much as he shocked me with his question. He’s on me in an instant, cupping my face and kissing me over and over.

  “I thought I was going to have to do more convincing,” he says before kissing me again.

  I let out a small giggle. “And how were you going to do that?”

  “I’d have to show you.” His tone becomes deep and husky.

  “By all means,” I taunt.

  Slowly, he leans in, finding the spot behind my ear that drives me wild. My breath hitches as his tongue darts out and traces a light, torturous pattern down the side of my neck. As his mouth travels down my body, his hands move up, starting at my legs and stopping at the apex of my thighs. He circles around my throbbing center, reducing me to begging.

  “Please, Sean.”

  “Remember: delayed gratification.”

  He kisses the retort right out of me as his hands palm my breasts. I arch my back and writhe unabashedly, needing more.

  My hands go to his shirt and pull it over his head before feeling his smooth skin. Each ripple and crevice stands out like a blind man to braille as my fingers move south. When they dip below his waistband, it’s his turn to let out a frustrated grunt.

  “Delayed gratification,” I tease.

  He pauses, staring at me before lifting me up in one scoop. I think we’re headed toward his bedroom but we stop short in the hallway.

  “Turn around,” he instructs. When I do, he pulls my pants and panties off in one tug before I step out of them. The cool air hits my exposed center as he pushes my torso toward the wall so that my ass sticks out.

  I hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and his zipper going down, but I don’t dare look. The anticipation is half the fun. Unexpectedly, his hand lands on my left cheek, sending a zap of pain and pleasure coursing through my body. My core clenches once again, desperate for friction.

  I’m soon rewarded when I feel the head of his cock move against my entrance. He toys with me, sliding it back and forth until I’m panting. It’s only then he sinks home, damn near bringing me to my knees. With his arm around my stomach, he pulls me close as he sets the pace.

  “God, you feel so good,” he says into my ear. Turning my head to the side, I seek his lips. When they touch, I feel the connection in every way. It’s primal and passionate, but also tender and sweet.

  He pulls out of me and a complaint is sitting on the edge of my tongue when he turns me around to face him. Hiking my right leg up his side, he enters me again, n
ever breaking eye contact. This time is slower, more sensual, and it’s the most intimate moment of my life. With our eyes trained on the other’s, we’re bared body and soul. I’m giving my whole self to him and he’s doing the same.

  I love you.

  It flashes unexpectedly in my mind and I have to grind my jaw to keep it from spilling out. But I soon relax as I realize while we may not say the words out loud, we’re communicating it clearly through our bodies. This should freak me out, but it does the opposite. I can finally breathe, let go, and lower my guard.

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him to me. My tongue finds his in an expression of two souls destined for each other. Because right here and now, I believe him one hundred percent.

  We’re meant for each other.

  Sean

  IT TAKES A lot to shock me, but that’s exactly what Paige has done. With very little convincing, she’s agreed to move in with me and I couldn’t be happier. We’ve come so far together, and the last thing I want to do is lose momentum. That’s why the next morning while she’s still asleep in my bed, I went out and bought paint, rollers, drop cloths, and tape so we can get started on fixing up her condo. She made a comment when I was finished devouring her that she couldn’t just put a for sale sign out front; she needed to do some touching up and staging. Whatever that means.

  Entering quietly, I set my bags down and make my way to the bedroom. I’ll never get tired of seeing her like this. Her hair is fanned all over the pillow, mouth parted softly, face relaxed, and naked body tangled in the sheets. She’s a vision.

  I slide back into bed next to her, careful not to wake her just yet. She stirs a little, reaching out for me. A smile crosses my face knowing even in her sleep she seeks me out.

  Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, I caress her cheek. “Wake up, gorgeous. We have lots of work to do,” I whisper. Her brows pull in, but she makes no effort to move. “Paige,” I say into her ear and kiss up and down her neck. I see her smiling when I pull away. “Time to get up. I got you coffee.”

  “Mmmm,” she mutters on a long stretch. Her body becoming cat-like as it arches and extends. “A man after my own heart.”

  “Come on.” I swat her ass lightly, making her giggle. “Get dressed and be out in five minutes. I’ll put your coffee in a to-go cup.”

  “What’s the urgency?” she asks while yawning.

  “I told you, we have work to do.”

  “We? What are you talking about?” She props herself up on her elbows and the sheet slides down her torso to expose her bare chest. I tighten my jaw and turn around to walk out of the bedroom before I ravish her again and nothing gets done.

  “Yes, we. You said you needed to touch up the condo, so I went out and got stuff to do it.”

  “Wait, what?” I hear her say even though I’m not in the same room anymore. “Sean, get back here.” When I don’t comply, I hear the rustling of sheets followed by the thumping of feet as she chases me down. “When did you go buy this stuff?”

  “This morning. I just got back. I figured you could use the extra sleep.” I wink and watch as she flushes a gorgeous shade of pink.

  “Again I ask, what’s the urgency?”

  Maybe I’m pushing her too hard. She said yes with little resistance, I probably shouldn’t push my luck. “I just thought we could get a jump start on things,” I tread lightly. “We both work during the week, so if you want to get this on the market while it’s booming, you’ll need to do it soon.”

  I see the wheels in her overanalyzing mind turn. But yet again, she surprises me when she says, “Okay, let me get dressed real quick.”

  “Are you feeling alright?” I ask her, staring to see if some stranger has replaced my girlfriend.

  “What do you mean?” she calls out over her shoulder.

  “You’re just very . . . agreeable lately.”

  Her soft giggle reaches my ears. “Am I normally that much of a pain in the ass?”

  “You have your moments,” I mutter.

  “I heard that!”

  We stopped for food on the way back to her place. Paige has three stages of hunger, each level serving as warning to anyone within close proximity. The first time she says she’s hungry, you need to start coming up with a game plan to get food in her stomach. The second time she says it, you better at least be on your way to finding something. The third time, all bets are off. We were at a level two.

  It doesn’t take us long to dive in. We set out a game plan with a to-do list and go into attack mode immediately.

  “What do you call a cow with a twitch?” I ask as I touch up some spots on her wall. Luckily, Paige had some leftover paint from when she moved in. Good thing otherwise I’d be painting all the walls right now.

  “What?” she asks in the same monotone voice as always.

  “Beef jerky.”

  I hear her snicker even though she tries to hide it.

  “Have you thought about applying for David’s job?” It’s something I’ve been meaning to ask her since I got the bastard fired. My dad was pretty pissed at me for making such a scene at the party, but once I told him what that dick face said to Paige, he backed off and understood. He was terminated the same day for workplace sexual harassment. Of course, my dad was worried about lawsuits and assault charges, but my attorney sealed that up in the contract David signed.

  “Not really. I mean, I don’t have much experience nor am I qualified enough for the job. Plus, I just got my current position a few months ago.”

  “I think you should go for it.”

  “You’re not calling in favors, are you?” When I glance at her, she has one hand on her hip and her head tilted to the side.

  I hold my hands up in surrender. “I haven’t mentioned it to anyone. You don’t need me for this. Your intelligence, hard work, and reliability speaks for itself.”

  Her posture sags on a sigh like she’s relieved to hear I’m not meddling in her career. I know how important it is for her to earn this, but I wasn’t responsible for where she is now, I won’t be for where she is in the future.

  “I don’t think I’m ready,” she admits. “It’s pretty intimidating.”

  “Well, just think about it. If you have any questions, feel free to ask or I can put you in contact with someone else if you prefer.”

  A genuine smile hits her face. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  There wasn’t much painting to do, just a few scuff marks here and there that wouldn’t wipe off. Once I’m done, I wipe down the baseboards. I’m sure this is quite the site. Me on my hands and knees cleaning. If only Marcus could see me now.

  “For a man who doesn’t even clean his own place, you sure are doing a good job,” Paige comments. I swear the worst thing I’ve ever done is tell her I have a cleaning lady. She busts my balls about it every chance she gets.

  “I didn’t say I couldn’t clean, I just choose not to. And before you go giving me shit about it some more, just remember you’re about to reap the benefits of said housekeeper soon too.” She doesn’t respond to that. “Yeah, not such a bad idea now, is it?”

  “It might be hard to get used to. Not all of us are as privileged as you.” She bites her lip and I know she’s seeking a reaction. Well, you’re about to get one.

  “New item on the to-do list; fuck you on every surface in this damn place.” Scooping her up, I throw her over my shoulder and cross that one off the list.

  I knew Paige lived in a sought-after area, but I had no idea her condo would sell that quickly. Judging by her wide eyes and parted lips, I guess she didn’t either.

  Since Paige keeps the place in museum condition, it didn’t take much to get it ready to put on the market. The realtor listed it on Tuesday. By Thursday, she had an offer for full asking price.

  “Talk to me.” My hands rub her arms in an effort to calm her. The panic hides within her eyes, and it’s my job to chase it away.

  “It’s just so . . . fast.”
r />   “Is that a problem? Are you sure you want to move in with me?” I hold my breath, almost afraid of her response.

  “Yes, but I thought I’d have more time to get adjusted to the idea.”

  “What’s there to adjust to? You’ll be well fed, sated every night, cozy in our bed, closer to work, and living with the most charming and awesome man to ever exist.” I flash her my killer smile and she throws her head back to laugh. At least she’s not freaking out anymore.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m not excited about living with you, because I am. This has more to do with me than you, so thank you for being patient as always.”

  “Any time, love. Any time.”

  Whatever she needs I’ll always strive to provide. If it’s patience, then she’s got it. I used to stress over the worry lines around her eyes when they’d appear, but as time has gone, I realize this is who she is. She’s an over thinker and a self-doubter, a fighter and a lover. She’s passionate and funny, feisty and serene. There are so many facets that make up who she is, and I love every one of them.

  Paige

  FRIDAYS ARE USUALLY a relief, a reward for making it through the week and the last day until the weekend. But not this time.

  Monday had come and gone and still no word from the doctor.

  After Sean left my condo yesterday, I finally heard from her. She wanted me to come in today to discuss my results, but there’s nothing to discuss. The fact that she wants me to come in tells me everything I need to know.

  Good news isn’t told in an office.

  The skin around my thumb is picked off, raw, and bleeding. As I look at the small drop of blood forming at my cuticle, all I can think about are the microscopic cells trying to kill me. Cells meant to keep me alive are the very ones poisoning me.

  I almost drop my phone as it vibrates in my hand.

  Sean: RQ- Sushi for dinner?

  My eyes well up with tears. I’m an awful person for keeping this from a man who would go above and beyond to make me happy. Now we’re moving in together and he has no clue what he’s getting himself into. I feel so repulsive and deceptive, but I’m not ready to face reality. Because when I’m with Sean, all the bad shit in my life disappears, and I’m selfish for wanting to hang on to it for a little longer before reality smacks me in the face.