by Louise Bay
“Fuck, Hollie,” I said as I started to draw out and push back in, eeking out the pleasure, wanting to make each stroke last as long as possible. Being here was so good. So fucking perfect. Thank fuck she hadn’t left tonight. Thank fuck we had this. All night. How lucky was I to have found this woman who could make me feel so fucking right? It was as if for years I’d had a piece of my soul missing and she’d found it. I felt more alive when I was fucking Hollie than I could ever remember. I felt like I belonged. Like I could do anything as long as I could be with this woman.
Her hand coaxed mine from her breast and she interlaced my fingers with hers as I almost roared at the perfection of it. How such a nonsexual movement could make my cock ache as much as it did. But it was the intensity of the connection—the purity of it—that really got me. It represented her and us and how I felt about her.
She began to tremble beneath me. Her legs started to shake, her entire body consumed by her climax. She pushed down further on my cock and the shift in position had me driving deeper into her. Her climax pulsed around me, squeezing my cock, making me pant and grunt and fuck harder and harder until I was almost blind with effort. All I could do was feel. And all I felt was Hollie.
I exploded into her on a moan and pulled my arms tighter around her.
“You’re going to ruin me,” she whispered.
If I’d had any energy left, I’d have asked her what she meant. I’d have questioned whether she was talking about the scarf. But I’d given her every last drop of effort I had.
And I’d do it all again if she asked me.
At some point we made it to the bedroom, though it was long past dark when Hollie shifted out of my arms and crossed my room into the bathroom.
“Have I told you you’re beautiful?” I asked.
She turned and looked at me over her shoulder as if I’d just said the most ridiculous thing. She shouldn’t be shocked. If she was, that was my fault. There should be no doubt in her mind that I thought she was the most beautiful woman on the planet. Because that was the truth.
“Let me go to the loo,” she said and I grinned at her anglicization. She suited London. And she had a natural eye for what showed off stones, which was important if she was going to be in this business.
“You never told me if you actually liked the earrings,” I called out to her. She reappeared at the bathroom door, smiling as if she’d been waiting for me to bring it up. We weren’t supposed to talk about the office, but I wanted to know what she thought.
“Okay, let’s have a five minute time-out so we can talk about work.” She grabbed her mobile from beside the bed. “We have until six minutes to the hour.”
I grinned, enjoying her rules as much as her disapplication of them.
“You know what I thought?” she asked, tucking her hands under her cheek as we lay on our sides, facing each other.
“No,” I said, rolling my eyes as if I found her exasperating instead of sexy and completely fascinating.
She ignored me. “I thought they would go perfectly with your parents’ tiara.”
Her statement left me slightly winded. It wasn’t at all what I’d expected her to say. I’d thought she’d comment on the theme or technical innovation. What did my parents have to do with those earrings?
“You know,” she continued, “modern but classic. Innovative but still regal. And of course, they were beautiful,” she said. “The theme is amazing and there’s the technical thing of getting them to hang straight without it looking too obvious that you’re using the snowflakes as the counter-balance. I loved every part of them. It’s clear you’re the son of two incredibly talented people.”
I didn’t have a response to that. It wasn’t sadness I felt when Hollie mentioned my parents, as it was when most people spoke of them. I didn’t rush to quieten her or quickly change the subject. I liked that she respected my connection to them still, fifteen years later. And I wasn’t sure anyone had paid me such an incredible compliment. I reached for her and pulled her toward me, needing her heat against me. Enjoying the closeness of her.
Whatever was between us wasn’t about easy company and regular, outstanding sex—although it was those things. It was more than that. It was about hanging out with someone I found endlessly fascinating, feeling cared for and wanting to care for someone else. It was wanting her to love what Daniels & Co produced. And it was so much more than I’d ever felt in such a long time.
Eighteen
Hollie
I only had thirty minutes before I had to leave for Gabriel’s party, but I hadn’t spoken to Autumn for two days. I’d mastered video calling on my Daniels & Co smartphone, far quicker than I’d mastered the design software—though I was improving on that front—so Autumn and I could chat while I got ready to meet Dexter.
“What’s Dexter going as?” Autumn asked as I pulled out my onesie from the pile of clean laundry.
Dexter had blindsided me, telling me Gabriel’s birthday party wasn’t fancy dress as in we had to dress fancy, but the British version of a costume party. I’d had two days and zero dollars to find the perfect outfit.
“Maverick.”
“Top Gun?”
“Yeah. You know what guys are like. They all think they have a Navy fighter pilot on the inside waiting to get out.” Though Dexter was always Mr. Cool and Above It All, I actually thought it was refreshingly human that he had an inner child wanting to be Tom Cruise.
“And you’re not going as Kelly McGillis?”
I groaned. Autumn was usually a little more creative. “I have at least five reasons why that’s a bad idea.”
“I have enough patience for your top three.”
“One, it’s boring. It’s the first time I’m meeting his friends. I don’t want them to think I have zero imagination. Two, why should my costume be dependent on his? Maverick was Maverick. You can’t even remember Kelly McGillis’ character’s name.”
“Okay, so you could have gone as Goose. And anyway, that was only two reasons.”
“No,” I said. “I’m steering away from anything with a Simpson-Bruckheimer vibe.”
“But you want your costumes to interrelate, right?”
“No. Absolutely not,” I confessed.
“I’m totally confused,” she said. “Why not?”
I didn’t want to talk to my sister about something I didn’t want to even think about. But as usual, what I wanted really didn’t matter. “Because, you know, it’s not like we’re engaged.”
“But you’re a couple, right?”
It felt like we were a couple. It had been creeping up on me for a while, but it wasn’t a feeling I was used to, so it was difficult to recognize. Ever since our fight, things had been different. Something had shifted. He’d given his doorman my name so I could go up to his apartment without him in case he got tied up at work. He kissed me differently—his eyes were more searching before his lips touched mine. We were interconnected in a way we weren’t before, but there’d been no discussion or labelling and that was completely fine. “I don’t know what we are,” I confessed. “It’s going to look a little stalkersville if I dress in a complementary costume and he wasn’t expecting it. Anyway, I go back to my previous argument—I should have my own cool costume. My decision about what I wear shouldn’t be dictated by what Dexter’s wearing.”
“Oh my God, Hollie,” Autumn said. “I’ve never heard you so ruffled by a guy.”
“I’m not ruffled,” I said. “I’m saying the opposite—that I don’t want to be dressing a certain way because of his costume.”
“I call ruffled,” she said. “I can count on one hand the number of second dates you’ve ever been on, and with any of those guys, you wouldn’t even consider what they were wearing to a costume party. You’d just wear whatever you wanted.”
She was exasperating and a bad listener. “That’s exactly what I just said I was going to do.”
“Hmmm, maybe. But you’re not picking a complementary costume because
you don’t want to freak him out, not because you don’t give a shit. It’s an important distinction.” I could almost hear her grin. “You like this guy, Hollie.”
This wasn’t news to me but hearing it out loud was kind of weird. “Yeah, maybe I do.”
Autumn squealed. “This is amazing. Why didn’t you choose to go as Princess Leia in the gold bikini? Guys love that and your hair would be perfect—”
“Absolutely not. It’s a complete cliché and . . .” I’d like to think Dexter was a little bit above the whole female objectification/Leia fantasy, but of course he wasn’t. He was a guy. With a pulse. “Just absolutely and completely not. My idea is cool. I don’t care what you say.”
“I want to meet this guy,” Autumn said. “He must be special to finally get my sister to fall in love.”
“Autumn! I am not in love with him. He’s a great guy to hang out with in London, but it’s not like it’s going to work out between us.” The soon-to-be five thousand miles between us ensured what we had was a short-term thing. Even if I did end up with a job in New York, we’d still be an ocean apart. “I haven’t even told you about the fight we had. He bought me a gift, and I had a meltdown that led to the world’s biggest argument.”
“What was the gift? A butt plug?”
I wasn’t sure if she was trying to be funny or if she just assumed the gift must have been inappropriate to spark a fight. She could only go on past history of the men I’d dated. And if I had been talking about any of them, she’d wouldn’t have been so off base with a butt plug. But Dexter would never do that. If he wanted anal sex, he’d just suggest it—not pretend it was a gift. Autumn was going to think I was an idiot when I told her what had sparked our disagreement. “No, he bought me a scarf. It’s really beautiful.”
“And you freaked out because . . .?”
She was going to think I was a maniac. I took a deep breath and exhaled slow. “There were a lot of reasons. But he had a theory about me. He thinks I’m not used to accepting presents, receiving stuff.”
“Did he mean gifts or is this an oral sex issue?”
I laughed, relieved she’d lightened the moment. I never had a problem receiving Dexter’s tongue. That’s where his argument failed completely—a point I’d be sure to make if we ever argued about this again. “He thinks because I pay Mom and Dad’s rent that I’m not used to . . .” It was a little awkward to talk about this with Autumn, since she was someone in my life that I helped out. But she was younger. And my parents weren’t stepping up to help her, so what did he expect? That I would just leave her high and dry? If I could help, of course I was going to.
“He’s right.” She sighed. “I like this guy and I’ve never even met him.”
“Wait, what do you mean he’s right? I haven’t even told you what he’s said.”
“Well, you’ve said bits and it doesn’t take a genius to fill in the rest. You’re not used to a two-way relationship. You’re used to being the giver, the caretaker. And everyone else takes from you.”
“Life isn’t perfect. If it was, there’d be zero calories in fried chicken and I’d wake up looking like Irina Shayk.”
My sister grinned and her smile filled the entire phone screen. I wish I was there. Or that she was here. I wanted us to grab the duvet from the bed, snuggle under it and watch America’s Got Talent while eating ice cream straight from the carton. “I didn’t say anything about perfect. But you’re a natural giver. And you’ve never been in a relationship with a guy you really like. Ever. He could really take advantage.”
She was sweet to be concerned. I was usually the protective one with her boyfriends. I shook my head. “Dexter’s not like that.”
“Bet you cook for him. Go down on him.”
“Well, I like to do both, so we’re good.”
“Just remember—it’s a two-way street. I like the fact that he bought you something. It’s nice. And you should let him. It’s what good boyfriends should do. I read it somewhere. And one of these days, I’ll be treating you. I think you can rule Mom and Dad out on that score.”
I snorted. As if I was banking on that. Neither of them ever had more than five dollars in the bank and they weren’t particularly practical. If they were stopped by the police for a broken tail light, left to their own devices they’d end up in jail. And it would never be because they’d ever done anything terrible—they’d just piss people off, forget dates and not turn up when and where they were supposed to. It was easier for me to step in to pay the fine for the broken tail light, and then there wasn’t a danger of me having to pay lawyers’ fees for a jury trial. That was just life with our parents.
“Exactly. It’s totally natural that you’d have a warped idea of what your role is in a relationship. Let him do nice stuff for you. And if he doesn’t, dump him. Kindness goes both ways.”
It was simple the way she said it. And it was pretty much what Dexter had said. I didn’t know if it was because I was hearing it from Autumn or because I’d had a couple of days to think about the fight, but the accusation that I wasn’t used to getting what I should in a relationship seemed to make more sense today.
“How do you know when they’re doing too much?” I asked. “Should I keep a list? Make sure I only do something nice for him when he does something nice for me?” That seemed a little over the top, but I was a novice, apparently. Surely a Hermes scarf was too much. How could I ever repay him?
“No, Hollie, you don’t keep a tally. You’re just caring for each other—him for you, you for him. Equal doesn’t mean identical.”
She paused and I tried to read her expression but the screen froze. “It probably wasn’t that much to him. You said he has money. And you’re not prone to exaggerate. I’m thinking this guy could buy and sell the whole trailer park.”
“Right. That’s what he said. Not about the trailer park. About the scarf.”
“So, let him do what he wants to do for you. And you do what you want for him. If you make each other happy, that’s when shit gets serious.”
That made sense. I should just do what was in my heart and he should do the same. As long as we were both happy.
“When did you get so wise?” I asked.
“Grew up this way. It was the way my sister raised me.”
I was suddenly so homesick I could barely stand. Not for Oregon. Not for the Sunshine Trailer Park or my parents, but for Autumn. “I miss you,” I said.
“Don’t you dare miss me. You’re chasing your dreams and hanging out with Sexy Dexter. You don’t have time to miss me.”
I might have paid Autumn’s tuition, but that girl gave me the strength and courage to try to carve out a life for myself outside of the trailer park.
“Although I’m going to miss you like crazy on your birthday.”
“It’s the first one I won’t spend with you.”
“You’ll just have to make Dexter sit in bed, eat ice cream and watch reruns of the Housewives.”
If he was capable of that, the man was worth marrying.
“Is that a glue gun?” Autumn asked, frowning at me as I stuck together the blue felt.
“I just spotted a hole in the hat.”
“Well, if he has sex with you after seeing you in that outfit, you’ll be engaged by Christmas.”
Nineteen
Dexter
I’d offered to pick Hollie up but, she said she’d meet me outside Gabriel’s place and made me promise not to go inside without her. I leaned against the car, trying to see if I could spot her. I didn’t know what I should be looking for, given we were going to a fancy-dress party. I’d asked her a couple of times about her costume but she’d refused to tell me anything. When I suggested Kelly McGillis, Hollie had challenged me to remember the character’s name, and when I couldn’t, she told me she wasn’t going to go as my nameless appendage. Then I made a crude joke about my dick being my best appendage, and she thwacked me with a towel.
I transferred my fighter pilot helmet from one hand to
the other. My assistant had done a good job with the costume. The red and black striped helmet even had the word Maverick painted on it in white. My green jumpsuit had all the requisite patches, including the American flag, Top Gun school crest, and Tom Cat. But I felt a bit of a dick. Costumes weren’t really my thing.
I checked my watch. She’d said she’d be here ten minutes ago, but it was difficult to know whether she was normally late. Our relationship had been conducted entirely behind closed doors in my apartment. We’d had that one dinner when we first met, but since then we’d been banished from going outside together.
“Hey, wanna be my wingman?” Hollie called from behind me.
I turned to find her grinning at me. And then her face dropped. “You guys have Dr. Seuss, right?”
I chuckled, taking in her red flannel outfit and the white circular label on her chest that read Thing 1. “You’re adorable. And yes, we do. Where’s Thing 2?”
She pulled out her keys and dangled a miniature version of herself in front of me. “Autumn bought it for me. She has another.” Then she slipped her red-gloved hands around my waist and put her head on my chest. “I like you as a pilot. Maybe I should have gone for something a little more feminine, Sexy Dexter.”
Her blue felt hat, shaped like an upside-down octopus, smacked me in the face.
“You’re the sexiest I’ve ever seen you,” I replied.
“You’re a terrible liar,” she said.
“I mean it. Are you wearing anything under that—what is that—is it all-in-one? Does this zip work?” I reached for the neck of her costume to see if I could reveal what was underneath.
She batted my hand away. “I’m wearing pajamas,” she said. “I got a bunch of felt online and with hand stitching and glue, this is what I came up with. And yes, I have underwear on, you pervert.”
She looked completely cute. I was relieved she’d gone to some effort and not bunged on a suit and said she was a CIA agent or something. Gabriel would appreciate her commitment. All the boys would.
