Deep Surrendering (Episode Two)

by Cameron, Chelsea M.

  “I can see you realizing I’m right. It’s about time.” She gave me a smug smile and clicked her tongue.

  “I’m not saying you’re right.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m satisfied.”

  I shook my head and looked around for the unfortunate waiter so we could pay the bill and leave. I’d had enough of Chloe’s scrutiny for one day.

  “So what are we doing today? Or are you ditching me for the kinky mo’fo?”

  The waiter finally appeared, dropped the bill, and scampered away without a word. This time Chloe reached for it first. We traded off who paid each time, but sometimes it was hard to remember who had paid last.

  “No, I’m not ditching you for him, but I am ditching you for the library. I’ve been steadily getting behind and I have a ton of work to do. I’m sorry.” I would much rather hang out with Chloe than spend my time reading microscopic print and writing countless papers on subjects that had nothing to do with my actual degree. But work I must.

  “Fine. I’ll just find a new best friend. It’s cool. Whatever.” She flipped her hair and pretended to ignore me.

  “Good luck with that,” I said as we gathered our things and left the restaurant.

  “Please. I’m excellent best friend material. Who wouldn’t want to be my best friend?”

  I just rolled my eyes for an answer.

  I went straight from brunch back to my apartment to get all my textbooks (why weren’t any of them digitized yet?) and my laptop. I’d actually started putting all of it in a rolling suitcase so I didn’t break my back carrying them back and forth to the college library.

  When I arrived, I unpacked everything and spread my stuff out on one of the tables. I always liked coming earlier on Saturday because it was usually a quiet time.

  After working for a few hours, I got up and stretched and wished I’d thought to bring coffee with me. I could go down to the coffee shop next door but that would require packing up all my stuff to take it with me.

  So I powered through until my eyes were heavy and itchy, and I couldn’t read another word. Blinking, I looked up and realized it was dark outside. I checked my phone and realized it was a lot later than I thought. Way past dinner.

  As soon as I realized the time, my stomach awakened like a slumbering beast that had been poked in the eye and roared its displeasure at me for not feeding it. I threw all my stuff back in my suitcase and checked my phone. I had one missed text from Fin, but I didn’t read that one first because I had a missed call from my mother that distracted me.

  This couldn’t be good. I had next to no contact with my parents now, just to save my own sanity. Talking with them eventually led to an argument, and then I would be really upset for days. So the only thing to do was cut off contact with them completely. It hurt, but it was for the best.

  I waited until I’d gotten back to my apartment to call her. Home territory, with all my things around me. My safe place.

  I settled on the couch with a cup of tea and called her back.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “I called you several hours ago, Marisol.” Great. We’d barely started talking and already my mother was angry with me. This was going to be fun.

  “I know. I was at the library doing work and I had my phone turned off. Is something wrong?”

  She sighed as if I was being the most difficult person ever, and I wondered why I had actually returned her call. “I’m calling because I haven’t heard from you in weeks and I wanted to make sure you were still alive.”

  “I’m alive. How are you?” I couldn’t help but bait her.

  “There’s no need to speak to me like that, Marisol. You’re my only child, and I worry.”

  I was glad she couldn’t see me rolling my eyes. I’d definitely get reprimanded for that. “I know. I’m sorry.” I was required to apologize at least ten times during every conversation we had. Probably more for this one in particular.

  She sniffed on the other end and muttered under her breath to someone. Knowing her, she was probably either out to dinner, at a dinner party, or hosting one herself. The woman couldn’t go one day without some sort of fancy function. Hell, the woman made ordering groceries a grand affair.

  I waited as she said something else and then came back on the line. “Your father wants to speak with you.”

  I’d choose speaking with him over talking to Mom any day.

  “Hi, Mari,” he said, his voice tired but cheerful. It was a wonder he could still be cheerful. Mom should have beaten it out of him years ago.

  “Hi, Dad. How are you?” Since Mom hadn’t bothered with the small talk.

  “I’m well, how are you doing? We were getting a little worried since we hadn’t heard from you. How’s school?”

  “It’s good. Busy, but good. How’s work?” Dad worked for one of the top financial advisors in Boston, but compared to Mom, he might as well have been a coal miner. Her money was old and there was plenty of it.

  “Oh, your mother is motioning to me. Good to talk to you, Mari. Call us more often and come visit.”

  “It was good to talk to you, too. I will.” The second thing I said was a lie.

  Mom came back on the line, and I hoped I could wrap this up quickly because I couldn’t really fake an emergency, and forced chitchat with my mother wasn’t really how I wanted to spend my night. I wished I was out at the bar with Chloe, Sloane, and Rory, but they’d all bailed on me tonight. Well, Rory hadn’t answered my text, Chloe had some vague excuse, and Sloane was working. So I was flying solo.

  “You can’t just do this, Marisol. We need to hear from you, know what you’re up to. I don’t understand why you’re so stubborn.”

  Uh, because you made me that way? I swallowed all my bitter responses and just apologized. Again. I used to have more patience with her, but years of her criticizing everything I did and never showing me a shred of affection had worn me down.

  “Don’t just say the words. I want you to mean it. People have been asking me what you’re up to and I don’t know what to tell them anymore. Oh, I also mailed you an invitation to a party we’re throwing. I expect you to be in attendance.” She didn’t need to add “or else.” It was implied.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Marisol.” I hated the way she said my name. It made me hate my name and wish it wasn’t mine.

  “I’ll be there. Okay, I have to go. Something’s burning in the oven. Bye.” I hung up before she could say anything else.

  The first thing I did after tossing my phone on the coffee table was head to the kitchen to find something sweet and pour myself a glass of wine. Or five. My mother always drove me to drink.

  I was just opening a new bottle of cheap red when my phone went off again. If it was my mother, I was going to lose it.

  My heart skipped a beat when I realized it was Fin.

  “Hello?” I tried to make my voice low and sexy. I hoped it sounded good.

  “Hello, Marisol. I was hoping I could request the pleasure of your company this evening.” Oh, he sure as hell could.

  “Well, I don’t know. I’ve got plans . . .” I was teasing, but I also didn’t want him to know how lame my plans actually were.

  “That’s such a shame. I was hoping I could pick you up and bring you back to my place for a little while. Maybe have a late dinner? Or dessert, if you’ve already eaten?”

  I was still starving from my studying marathon. “Dinner would be perfect. And dessert. If that doesn’t make me look too greedy.”

  “I would never say that about you.” His voice made every word seductive. “So can I pick you up in half an hour?” That was going to require me to get ready REALLY fast. But I didn’t care. I wanted to see him more than I wanted more time to mess with my hair.

  “Absolutely.”

  “See you soon, Mari.” I hung up and squealed in glee before rushing to my bedroom to get dressed.

  I was barely ready by the time Fin knocked on my door, but I had the feeling c
lothes weren’t going to be a big part of this evening.

  “Hi,” I said, blushing at the sight of him. It was a reflex.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” he said, handing me another bouquet of lilacs. The endearment made me want to giggle, but I just smiled.

  The lilacs did remind me of the last time he’d brought them, but beyond that were the happy memories the smell and sight of them elicited. I put them in the bottle with water and reminded myself, again, to buy a vase.

  Fin waited patiently for me to take care of the flowers.

  “Ready to go?” I asked. I grabbed my purse, and he took my arm as we walked toward the elevator, which was actually working this week. So far.

  I found myself at a loss for words.

  “So what did you to today?” he asked.

  “Nothing exciting. Had brunch with Chloe, went to the library, talked to my mother.” I hadn’t meant to tell him about the last part. It just sort of came out.

  “Oh. How did that go? You said you didn’t really get along.”

  “It went much better than the last time we talked. I only had to apologize twice for not measuring up to her standards.”

  “Ouch,” he said, squeezing my arm in sympathy as the crappy elevator came to a stop on the first floor. “But I hope this has improved your day.”

  “Just a little bit.” I leaned into him as we walked outside. As I expected, Carl was waiting next to the shiny black Town Car.

  “Nice to see you again, Miss Everly,” he said, greeting me with a smile as he held the door open for me to slide in. Fin was right behind me, and I scooted close to him, and he put his arm around me.

  “Nice to see you too, Carl.” He just tipped his cap at me, which made me want to laugh again. I was apparently in a giggly mood and I hadn’t even had that much wine.

  “Home, Carl,” Fin said, which finally hit my giggle button.

  “What’s so funny?” he said.

  “I’m sorry. You saying, ‘home, Carl’ was just funny. I couldn’t help it. Sorry. I’m in a weird mood tonight.” His fingers stroked my shoulder.

  “Well, that could work in my favor. Weird moods are my forte.” I glanced at Carl, but like any good hired help, he pretended to be furniture that had no ears.

  “Are they?” I said, looking at him. His hand moved from my shoulder down my arm, and his other hand started making its way to my lap. Oh.

  “Stop it,” I muttered, casting another glance at Carl. There was no way I was going to let him feel me up with someone else only feet away.

  “Make me,” he said, sliding his hand down the front of my jeans and making me gasp.

  Carl just kept driving and humming softly to himself. My intuition told me this wasn’t the first time activity like this had occurred in this car.

  I thought about slapping his hand away. I thought about moving across the seat to the window. But I did neither of those things.

  I was stressed from dealing with my mother and from all the studying, and I wanted a release. So I let my head fall back and closed my eyes as Fin stroked the front of my jeans. Even through the layer of thick fabric, I could feel the warmth on my most sensitive of places. He shifted so he could get a better angle and increased both the pressure and speed of his movements. Almost against my will, my hands drifted upward, pinching my nipples, and I bit my lip to conceal a moan.

  Car horns and squealing brakes sounded around us, but I was wrapped in a cloud of pleasure with Fin.

  “You like it when I touch you, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. My hips started grinding into his hand, pushing and wanting more.

  “Good,” he said, and withdrew his hand. My eyes snapped open and I stared at him in shock. He just had a grin on his face as he stretched his arms up and touched the ceiling of the car.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I didn’t keep my voice down. Carl coughed in the front seat and I swore I saw him and Fin exchange a look in the rearview mirror.

  “Oh, did you want me to continue?” He was asking for a slap in the face. Well, two could play at that game.

  “No, not really,” I said, moving away from him and shifting so I was staring out the window. I couldn’t do anything about my breathing and the fact that I was so turned on, but I could try to hide it. I could feel Fin staring at me from across the seat, and then I heard him chuckle.

  We were playing a game. Teasing each other. I’d never played like this with someone before. It got my blood running and left me in a constant state of being turned on.

  This was singlehandedly the best and worst relationship I’d ever been in.

  When we got to his place, Fin stepped out of the car without another word to me. Carl helped me out with an impassive look on his face. Good man. I wanted to give him a tip.

  And then I looked up at the building. Of course Fin would be living in one of the most expensive buildings in Boston. OF COURSE. The lights in the windows winked down at me with superiority. YOU ARE NOT WORTHY, MARISOL, they said.

  “Intimidated?” Fin’s voice made me jump.

  “Psh, are you kidding? I was totally going to live here, but they, uh, didn’t have a place that was up to my standards.”

  “Oh, I’m sure. Hopefully my place will be up to snuff.”

  “Well, we’ll see. Carl, are you available as my getaway driver?” I said the last part over my shoulder. Carl’s face almost cracked a smile.

  “I’m at your service, Miss Everly.” I grinned at Fin.

  “Traitor,” he said to Carl, but I caught him slipping the man a twenty behind my back.

  We proceeded through the lobby, where Fin stopped at the concierge desk and spoke to a man in a well-pressed suit in a low voice so I couldn’t hear what he said. The concierge nodded and then Fin said something else, and the man chuckled before Fin came back over to me.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Just business.” There might be more to that story, or it might just be business, like he said. I had no way of knowing.

  He seemed preoccupied with something as we got in the elevator and he hit the button for the penthouse. I sighed.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “You. Living in the penthouse. You’re a walking cliché, you know that? Rich boy who works for his daddy, living in the penthouse.” I meant it as a joke, but he didn’t seem to take it that way.

  “Is that how you see me? As a spoiled rich boy riding his father’s coattails?”

  “No, I don’t, Fin. But If I’d just met you and didn’t know anything about you or your family, I wouldn’t know. You’re not . . . you’re not like my parents.”

  “And by that you mean . . .”

  I guessed I had to elaborate. “You don’t treat money as if it has a never-ending supply that you can just use. You ate off a food truck, for God’s sake. Sure, you dress well and you live in a penthouse, but you don’t turn your nose up at something because it’s not the most expensive thing you can get. You see objects, and not just the monetary value attached to them. Does that make sense?” I hoped it did.

  He looked down at his shoes, which were so shiny I bet I could see my face in them. “It does. Thank you for the clarification.”

  “And why does my opinion matter so much, Fin Herald? I’ve barely known you a week.” I laughed a little at the absurdity of this entire situation. It really was insane when you stopped and thought about it.

  I looked up at him, thinking that maybe he was going to give me a snarky answer, but he seemed . . . thoughtful.

  “The honest answer is I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Marisol. But that’s probably because most of the people I come in contact with either work for me, want to work for me, or want something from me.”

  “What makes you think I don’t want something from you?”

  He smiled before he answered, which was a relief. Things had been getting a little too serious. “Because you look at me and I can tell you see me. Not the money. Not th
e suit. Not everything around me. Just me.”

  I couldn’t resist kissing him, and as I stepped on my tiptoes, the elevator doors opened and I was momentarily dazzled. “Oh fuck. What the hell, Fin?”

  “What’s wrong?” He leaned out, searching the room with his eyes.

  “This place is gorgeous, you asshole.” Why was I cursing so much? It wasn’t like I’d never seen a place like this before. I’d grown up in what some people would consider a mansion, and I’d been to my fair share of my parents’ friends’ places. I’d even been to Rory’s. But Fin’s place . . . trés, TRÉS fancy.

  “Oh. Yes, I suppose it is.” He seemed completely unaware of it. “Would you like the tour?”

  “Uh, yeah. I would.” He led me through the kitchen, which was open and modern, with stainless steel appliances, pendant lighting, and oak floors, and then through the living room, which had high ceilings, tons of light and a chic fireplace that was bordered by bookshelves filled to bursting with books. Black leather furniture and thick rugs gave the room a cozy feel, despite the distance between the floor and the ceiling.

  The place was massive. There were so many areas for people to sit, that if he invited most of my graduating class, we all would have had seats.

  “Did you decorate this yourself?”

  “I oversaw the decorating, yes.”

  “Wow,” I said, going to one of the windows and looking out. The city stretched out before me, the setting sun glinting off the metal and glass and making everything glow orange and pink.

  “You like?” I nearly smashed my face into the window. He’d snuck up behind me.

  “Very much.” His hands moved to circle my waist, and I felt him rest his chin on the top of my head. I’d always wanted to be with a guy who was tall enough to do that.

  His scent wrapped around me and I turned from the view of the city sunset to look at something that was equally as stunning.

  “Hi,” I said, putting my arms around his neck. In the back of my mind, doubt whispered, reminding me of the things he’d told me about being with prostitutes. I informed it that I wasn’t having sex with him right this moment and to shut the fuck up and mind its own business.