by Robin Leaf
Holy mother of pearl, I really am going to come if he keeps that up. Distraction. I need a distraction.
She moved her hands down his arms to his shorts, deciding what her distraction would be. She had to feel him. She tore at his button and zipper, trying carefully to avoid anything which would stop his torrential caressing and tonguing of her breasts. Slowly she slid her hands down his stomach, just about to touch the tip of the hardness poking out of the waistband of his boxer briefs. Riley abruptly pulled away from her. She looked at him questioningly when she heard her phone ringing on the coffee table. She grabbed his arms and pulled herself toward him, pressing her breasts against his chest and kissing his neck. “Let it ring,” she desperately whispered.
“But it’s your dad,” Riley said, looking over her shoulder at the display screen.
Her heart dropped into her stomach as panic hit Vanessa hard. It was just past eleven in Texas, way past the time her father normally went to sleep. Something must be seriously wrong for him to call so late. Since it didn’t seem right to talk to her dad in her current state, she pulled her bra and shirt down, rolled off Riley’s lap, and grabbed her phone.
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
“That’s what I’d like for you to tell me, young lady,” her dad yelled. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”
FIFTEEN
Holy shit! How does Dad know what I was about to do?
“Dad? What are you talking about?”
“Your picture? On TV? It’s all they’re talking about. The mystery woman. No mystery to me. I know who my daughter is. What the hell? I didn’t agree to this LA thing for you to get involved in that business. With some…some actor?” Her father spit out the last word of his rant as if it was a fly in his mouth.
Vanessa spoke as she moved away from Riley on the couch to the stairs. “What? Wait, Dad, slow down. Explain.”
“Your grandmother woke me up hollering that you were on TV. You know how she watches those tabloid TV talk show things? So I went out there, and sure enough, they showed your picture. Holding hands with an actor. They called you his ‘mystery woman.’ They also said there were reports of you getting treated at a hospital. WHAT’S GOING ON, VANESSA LYNN TAYLOR?”
She had ascended the stairs and entered her room. “Daddy,” she said quietly, “I already told you earlier that I sprained my…”
“You didn’t tell me any of THIS, young lady. Did HE hurt you?”
“Certainly not. He helped me…”
“So is THIS why you stayed? To date some actor?”
“We aren’t, weren’t dating. Well...” Oops. “Whatever, it’s not why I made the decision to stay. Ugh. It’s complicated, Daddy.”
Her father let out a slow breath. She knew from experience that he was probably running his hand over the top of his head. “Vanessa,” he said, trying to restrain himself, “are you involved with this guy or not?”
“Define involved.”
“Vanessa Lynn Taylor, if you don’t answer my question, I’m…”
She’d had enough. “Hey! Dad! Stop!” she yelled, then she controlled herself. “For the millionth time, I’m an adult, one who’s not living under your roof, and one who’s certainly free to make my own decisions. I told you the truth the other day. That’s all it is. You need to trust that I know what I’m doing. I. Am. Fine.” She took a deep breath. “Now, you know, you’re the one who told me those shows twist the truth, Daddy.”
“It’s different when I see my daughter on it.”
“They didn’t use my name?”
Another slow breath released from her father’s mouth. “No. And your hair is blocking your face. But I knew it was you.”
“Okay then. It was all innocent. Don’t worry.”
He grunted. “That’s like telling a fish not to swim.” He hung up.
Vanessa headed back downstairs to face Riley. She found him on the couch where she left him, but he was all back together, shirted and fully zipped. She couldn’t hide her disappointment. “Is everything okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
She became aware that she had not re-hooked her bra. She turned around so she could made a quick assessment before answering him: nothing hanging out or looking weird, so she was good.
“Not sure how to answer that question.”
Riley raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Well, apparently you and I are all over tabloid TV. They got a picture of us coming out of the restaurant last night, and they mentioned that I was treated at the hospital. Called me your ‘mystery woman.’ My grandmother saw it and woke my dad up to see it.”
Riley leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and looked down. “And I guess he’s not thrilled.”
“No.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I reminded him that those shows twist the truth. That it was completely innocent. He said they didn’t mention me by name. I told him earlier about twisting my ankle.” She laughed. “He actually asked if you hurt me.”
Riley covered his face with his hands. After a few minutes, he spoke. “But I did. And Vanessa, I’m so sorry.”
“For what? You aren’t responsible for my klutziness. And the publicity was part of the deal. We knew they took pictures of us last night.”
He looked up at her with a pained expression. “But I didn’t even consider how all this publicity would affect you.”
She moved around the coffee table to sit next to him on the couch. She reached over and ran her hands along his cheeks and turned his face toward hers. She leaned closer to him and looked him directly in the eyes. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told my father,” she huskily whispered. “I’m a big girl. I can handle anything.” She leaned in further and kissed him. “Now, if you don’t mind,” she said against his lips, “I’d really like to continue our, um, conversation we started before we were so rudely interrupted.”
Riley gently grabbed her hands and removed them from his face and held them. He pulled away from the kiss and stared deeply into her eyes. “I really don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
Whoa! Talk about a punch to the gut. More like a punch to the ego. Don’t you dare cry, Nessa. Don’t you do it. Ask first. Ask why. Shit. I already know why. He’s not attracted to me at all. I have made a fool of myself. Don’t show it, Ness. Here it comes. How I’m not right for him. How I’m not pretty enough. How I’m not smart enough. It’s happened before. Shouldn’t hurt so much.
“I get it,” she said, and she made a move to stand. His hands gripped hers tighter, urging her to stay seated.
“Wait, get what?” he queried, eyebrows furrowed.
“You’re not… I mean I’m not…your type,” she said quietly, refusing to make eye contact. “I get it.”
He released her hands. “You know, for someone so intuitive, you really can be quite dense.” He leaned back against the sofa annoyed. “You really think I’m not interested in you, don’t you?”
“Why should you be any different?” She realized that superego thing stopped working again. “I mean, I’m not… well… I’m not like what you’re used to.”
He leaned forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “That, Vanessa, is precisely what attracted me. Please look at me.” When she hesitated, he lifted her chin to meet his eyes. “Don’t you dare compare me to any other guys. They were jerks. And that is what I’m trying not to be here.” He brushed her hair off her face. “I think you’re beautiful,” he whispered.
A tear slid down Vanessa’s cheek, and he wiped it with his thumb.
“Apparently, you don’t hear that enough.” He smiled. “And the more I get to know you, the more I want to know you. A few minutes ago, I’ve never wanted anyone more than I wanted you.” He kissed her forehead. “Remember, I was raised to respect sex as serious business. I don’t believe in one night stands. Plus, anyone who has a dad who cares enough to call her, that worried about her, deserves better than a fast and furious roll on the
couch with someone she barely knows.”
“I haven’t had sex in almost four years,” she blurted out, quickly reddening at her admission.
He chuckled. “Whoa.” He grabbed her right hand and lifted it to his mouth. “I understand that. There was six years between Melanie and Bailee. But, Vanessa, with Bailee, I moved too fast. You know how that ended.” Vanessa’s expression became defensive, so he quickly added, “I’m not making any comparisons. I already like you way more than I ever did her. And aren’t you the one who told me to learn from my mistakes?” He raised one hand and cupped her cheek in his palm. “So this time, I want to go slowly.”
“How slow?” she asked, mesmerized by his green eyes.
He smiled. “I want to know that you love me first.” What if I already do?
He pulled her into a tender kiss that quickly deepened. The unfamiliar tingle lit her body on fire. They sunk into the kiss and leaned back against the couch. Once his tongue tried to access her parted lips, she pulled away.
“You know, if you wanna take this slow, I’d suggest you not do that. That’s what got me really going earlier, and I think I’ll spontaneously combust if we have to stop again.”
“And that,” he trailed a finger down the side of her face to her chin, a mischievous glint in his eye, “would be tragic.”
“Are you for real?” she blurted.
“I’m pretty sure. But we could have some philosophical conversation about metaphysics, quoting Descartes and…”
“No. I mean I don’t know any guy who would do what you just did.”
He smiled. “Believe me, it’s not easy.” He moved against her, and she could feel his arousal on her leg. “I’m just going to have to set things into motion so that you fall in love with me faster than the average person.”
“You won’t have to work too hard,” she whispered against his lips.
“Good to know.” And he kissed her again.
SIXTEEN
Vanessa awoke the next morning disoriented and stiff. When she tried to move, the ache in her neck and back caused her to grab her shoulders. Then she realized the reason; her head lay at an odd angle on Riley’s side, very close to his hip. She opened her eyes to see the screen of the muted TV stuck on the main menu of the last movie they watched last night. She cautiously looked up and found Riley watching her.
“Morning,” he offered. One of his legs was bent on the floor, but his leg closest to her was propped on the coffee table, guarding her from falling off the couch. He had rested a throw pillow behind his head at one time, but now his head was propped in his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the couch. His left arm, which was rested on her back, began rubbing back and forth slowly.
“Did you sleep here like that all night?”
“Yes. You fell asleep around midnight. I didn’t want to leave you here.”
“You couldn’t have slept well. I would have been fine.”
He grinned sheepishly and raised one eyebrow. “I know.”
She blushed. “How long have you been awake?”
“Not long.” His right hand left his cheek and brushed her hair off her face. “I was thinking we’d hang out by the beach today, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sounds good.”
“How’s your ankle?” he asked, gently lifting her right leg and rubbing her ankle with his thumb.
“Stiff, but it doesn’t hurt at all.”
He hesitated before asking his next question. “What time is your flight?” His fingers trailed lightly from her ankle up the outside to her calf, pausing briefly to circle her knee before continuing up the outside of her thigh. Her breathing increased.
“I’m thinking of delaying the flight.”
His hand moved over her hip and up her side, fingertips barely grazing the outside of her breast before reaching up to trace her cheek. His thumb grazed her bottom lip. She parted her lips allowing her tongue to brush the side of his thumb lightly. She smiled when he hitched his breath.
“For how long, Dr. Taylor?” he almost whispered, sliding his fingers down her neck and began tracing her collarbone.
“Indefinitely,” she huskily whispered.
“Good. Are you hungry?”
She smiled slyly. “Not for food.” She contemplated kissing him but worried about morning breath. “I’d really like to go to the bathroom and brush my teeth, maybe take a shower first.”
Riley’s eyes dilated and glazed over. “The offer to help you in the shower still stands.”
She pushed herself up to a seated position, mock indignation on her face. “If you are teasing me, that’s incredibly mean.” She leaned in to him, placed her hand on his chest and began slowly feeling her way down. “But if you are serious,” she whispered in his ear, pausing a second to nibble his lobe slightly, “I can think of a few things you could help me with.” She moved to kissing his neck just below his ear.
He caught her hand as it boldly gained access under the waistband of his shorts, just shy of her destination. He wiggled away from her and stood up. “I’m sorry, Vanessa. After what I said to you last night, and after what you told me about the combustion thing, I shouldn’t have teased you like that.” He shifted awkwardly. “Go take your shower. I’ll start breakfast.”
She stood up, smiled evilly and stared him dead in the eye as she sashayed past him. “It’s fine, Riley.” As she walked away from him, she grabbed the bottom of her shirt, lifted it over her head and threw it over her shoulder. She quickly unhooked bra over and tossed it behind her, never breaking stride or turning around. She began heading up the stairs. “I’ll just have to go and do those things without your help.”
She heard him groan and smiled at herself.
“You’re not gonna make this easy, are you, Nessa?” he yelled up the stairs.
She threw her shorts down. “Nope.” Her panties were tossed down next.
Right before she shut her door, she heard him mutter, “God, woman. You’re killin’ me.”
She closed the door. “Good. Now you know how I feel.”
***
Even though her music played, Vanessa’s thoughts got away from her in the shower. She flitted from memories of last night’s reality to fantasies of what would have happened if her dad hadn’t called.
Dammit, Daddy. It feels just like high school. Next time make sure the cell phone is off.
Her stomach flipped at the prospect of next time.
How long will it take me to try to convince this guy I’m falling in love with him? What should I do? Say it? Sing it? Tattoo it on my forehead?
And I’m scheduled to leave today. Must change my flight. Thank God for my flight vouchers. Helps to have a brother who works for an airline.
Wait. He called me Nessa. No one has ever called me Nessa but me, and that’s in my head. Shit, can he really read my mind? Daddy calls me Nessie, but he can’t know that.
Something about this guy seems too good to be true. How come he doesn’t have a girlfriend or a wife and a dozen kids yet? Something has to be wrong with him. From what I had the briefest pleasure of touching the tip of last night, no problem there. Boy. Oh. Boy.
That thought sparked another rather wicked fantasy, one which made her turn the water colder. She really needed to shave her delicate areas, and wicked fantasies doing dirty things to Riley’s body would make that difficult. Since it had been a while since she had worn a bathing suit without shorts over it, grooming was a necessity.
She dried off, lotioned up, put her hair in a ponytail and got dressed in her bathing suit, tank top and shorts. No makeup was necessary for a day at the beach, so she headed out of the bathroom. She found that the clothes she had discarded downstairs were now on her bed, neatly folded.
That means he was up here. In this room. While I was naked just past that open doorway. I wonder if he considered getting in the shower with me. Or if he peeked. She flushed at that thought. Damn him and his restraint.
It was the first time she noticed the
time. It was only 7:30 a.m., and she had been up for about thirty minutes. Although she was fairly certain that she should be tired, she felt oddly energized.
Sexual frustration will do that to you, I guess.
She opened the door to Riley, poised to knock.
He smiled and grabbed her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “I was coming to tell you breakfast is ready.”
She raised her eyebrow. “Were you, now?” He pulled her hand to his mouth and started to kiss her fingers. She pulled her hand back and pushed gently on his chest. “Look, Lover Boy, we’re going to have to lay down some ground rules if you are going to insist on this waiting thing.”
“I just don’t want us to make a mistake by sleeping together too soon.”
“Yeah, I heard you the first two times.” She brushed past him and headed down the stairs. When she got to the bottom, she turned toward the kitchen. “And truth be known, we, air quote, slept together last night.”
“And the night before,” he quickly added.
She turned to face him, and the look on her face made him stop in his tracks. “What did you just say?” she asked in that tone people use when it’s more disbelief than a non-hearing issue.
He looked at her like a child who is holding a paint brush when his mom asks if he painted the couch. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his shorts and shrugged his shoulders. “I thought you knew that.”
“After getting in the car, I blacked out. And I woke up alone. How could I have known?” He shrugged again. She asked, “So, what did you do to me?”
His mouth dropped open and he shook his head. “Nothing, I swear. I carried you in, laid you in my bed. I slept on top of the covers. Absolutely nothing happened.”
She smiled. “That’s a shame.” She turned around and moved toward the table.
He stepped toward her and turned her around, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re telling me you would be okay with it if I did do something?”
She looked up and answered, flirting. “Depends on what you did.”
