She murmurs but doesn’t look at me or stop what she’s doing. With a flick of her wrist, she’s changed the positioning and rhythm of her strokes again and I suck in a breath in pleasure. My dick may be hard, but my knees go weak. It feels so good to be in this position.
“I’m at your mercy, Amelia. You have all the control,” I tell her. “You have all the power.”
As if these words inspire her, she pushes her other hand into my boxers and cups my balls. It’s the perfect amount of pressure. Too perfect.
I wrap one arm around her neck and grab a fistful of the hair that’s fallen loose from the tie. “There it is. Faster like that. Make me come,” I tell her as she pumps me. And then I’m gritting my teeth, groaning in ecstasy and coming into her hand.
My breathing is rapid, and I wrap my other arm around her, leaning into her as she slowly releases her hold on me.
“Without a doubt, the best hand job I’ve ever had,” I tell her.
“Toe curling?” she asks.
I pull away just enough to look at her. Her smile is sexy and playful, and I couldn’t stop from kissing her pretty mouth even if I wanted to. “Yes, absolutely,” I murmur in between kisses.
11
Amelia
* * *
What just happened?
I’m reeling.
Tingling.
Giddy.
I knew starting something with Daniel would take me into new territory. I knew he was unlike any man I’d ever been with. Us together was either an opportunity to eschew conventions and find a spot of happiness or it was a recipe for disaster. I laugh, thinking that in this short time together, it’s already been both. It’s about what I expected. As I told Moira, I knew this wouldn’t be easy.
As if she could hear my thoughts, I get a text from her. I lean back on the bed to see what on earth she’s said now. Daniel has gone to his room to shower and dress. He’s promised to take me out to breakfast and a day of exploring the city afterward.
Moira: Talk to me. What’s happening? Are you with him?
Amelia: He’s in the shower
Moira: ???
Moira: HOW WAS IT?
Amelia: We haven’t had a proper shag yet. Just some playing around.
Moira: You tease.
Amelia: Daniel saw your last texts.
Moira: [blushing emoji]
Amelia: It made him laugh.
Moira: Good on him. He’s got a sense of humor, then.
Amelia: Luckily.
Amelia: Shouldn’t you be saving lives? Or cleaning out bed pans?
Moira: Har har. I’m on break. Okay. Glad you’re well and having some sexy good times. Keep me updated!
Amelia: Chat soon [blowing kiss emoji]
Moira: [eggplant emoji]
I smile and shake my head. My little sister, a respected registered nurse, can be so immature. But her heart is always in the right place. I’d told Moira about Daniel only after I purchased the plane ticket to come here. Before that, I’d been too conflicted about it all to share anything with her. The only people who knew about the professional lines I had crossed were Felicity and Conor. And since those two represented my deeper descent into losing proper judgment, they weren’t an option to consult with about Daniel. Instead, I had to let go my fears and admit to Moira all the things I had done wrong by emotionally investing in Daniel while he was my patient. She responded in the kindest way, with no judgements or recriminations. I knew this was due in part to her having made her own questionable choices in her younger years while in an emotionally abusive relationship. Her sympathetic reaction with me was also probably because I had spent a good number of years caring for her and fixing her up when things got rough with that relationship. Perhaps, she thought she owed me. In any case, she’s offered great support for me as I navigate this whole thing, even if she does resort to pushing the idea that Daniel is exactly what I need. She thinks his wildness is what will free me from the rut I’ve been in of dating boring academics. He certainly has brought some excitement to my life. Time will tell if there is more to it than that.
I’ve dressed in black linen pants, a maroon top, and shoes fit for walking. Daniel says we’ll take Roscoe with us as we explore. He also told me to make myself at home while he got ready, so I gravitate out to the living area. It’s an achingly beautiful day. Though I’ve seen little of it so far, I’m convinced that San Francisco is a magnificent city. I can tell as much by Shay’s multi-million-dollar view from Shay’s marina view alone.
Turning away from the window, I look around at the more personal items on display in the space, curious to see what Shay and Jessica hold dear. There are framed photos on the fireplace mantle, including several of the couple together in various poses and locations. In one stunning photo, Jessica is alone on the top of a sand dune, one leg raised up and curled back so it almost touches her head. There’s a gorgeous black and white shot of Shay on stage, coming off his stool with drumsticks poised to come crashing down. I see two photos of Jessica and what must be her family, but none of Shay with Daniel or their parents. Daniel had always dismissed his parents existence when we were in therapy. He’d refused to spend time examining their failings in raising him. And he’d rejected any possibility of creating a relationship with them now as an adult. It would seem that Shay has a similar block with them.
“Snooping? I thought only I did such nefarious things,” Daniel says with a tsk.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t hear Daniel or Roscoe come upon me. I straighten up from where I was hunched over looking at the photos.
“Joking, of course,” he says with a wink.
For a moment, I’m speechless, lost in a delicious mixture of his gaze and the sudden, strong sense-memory of how it felt to have my hand wrapped around him as I coaxed him into an orgasm. It sends a rush of heat through my body, followed quickly by that tingling feeling of anticipation as I realize that soon, we will be going to bed together. I suddenly want to fast forward the day to get to that point. He had offered to “return the favor” for me earlier, but I’d declined, wanting this build-up. Now, however, I’m regretting that.
Daniel can clearly read this because he says, “The offer still stands. From before?”
I bite the lower corner of my lip and shake my head.
Wrapping his arm around my waist, he pulls me close and nuzzles my neck. “Come on, we’ve got to give your sister more to text over.”
I laugh but don’t say anything.
“Wait.” He pulls away slightly. “Did you tell her about your masterful hand job? What did she say?”
“Daniel, enough.” My voice has no reproach in it, though. I can’t keep from enjoying his mischievous ways. I never could. “Aren’t we headed out?”
“I suppose we should. I’m starving, that’s for sure. Let’s go while the weather’s good.”
12
Danny Boy
* * *
As we walk down along the pedestrian path along Marina Boulevard, the view of Alcatraz Island to our right and the Golden Gate Bridge ahead of us, I wonder if I should take her hand. I’m guessing it’s something I should do, but it’s still not what comes naturally—despite that fleeting fantasy I had of the very thing when I was in Tulum with Jules. As intimate as we’ve been, holding her hand as we stroll along like some sort of straight-arrow couple on our way to bloody brunch, of all things, seems like too much. Instead, I concentrate on Roscoe. I have to keep him on a lead where we are now, but I let it go long so he can do his fair share of sniffing.
“It’s gorgeous here,” Amelia says, taking in a deep breath.
“Great place to holiday, yeah?”
“Yes. I can’t wait to see what you’ll show me.”
She glances at me with a smile that’s hard to read. It’s something of an invitation, I decide. It makes me think back to my assumption that she came here to toy with “Bad Boy Danny Boy.”
But surely that can’t be the case. She spent months in
therapy with me, trying to tame those impulses, trying to steer me into making better choices.
“Listen, what made you come here, anyway?” I blurt out. Because I can never stop from opening my big gob and letting my thoughts spill out.
When she stops walking, I do, too.
“You’re questioning my motives again, aren’t you?”
“I don’t even know your motives, that’s the thing.”
“Yes, you do. It’s what I told you last night. Remember? The bit about how I couldn’t stop thinking of you. I couldn’t not know if there was something—”
“I get that part. I do remember that part. I’m just stuck on not understanding what a woman such as yourself is doing coming halfway round the world for someone like me.”
She considers me for a long moment. I get antsy and start pulling at my cuticles.
“Listen, I don’t know what the rules are for us. I don’t know if it’s okay for me to refer back to what we worked on together in therapy or if that will just set you off.”
This gets my attention and I level my eyes on her. “Go ahead. Fire away. Analyze me, Ms. Patterson.”
She lets out a breath in frustration and looks away.
“Just know that you’ll be Ms. Patterson when you do that sort of thing. Because I won’t have the woman I’m sleeping with analyze me like that. It’s not an attractive trait.”
“Neither is this attitude, Daniel,” she replies. “If you’re not open to figuring this out with me, then that’s fine. I’m okay with that. But it means I’ll have had my visit and be on my way. I won’t stick around for this push-pull thing you’ve got going on.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You pull me close to you with one hand and push me away with the other. It’s obvious enough that you’re conflicted about trying this. Don’t you think I am, too? But the thing is that I know I want to try anyway. What do you want?”
I look out to the blue water of the Bay, the joggers and bikers passing by us a blur. I’m aware of Roscoe tugging on the lead, but I don’t make any effort to extend it. If I’m stuck here trying to figure things out, then so is he.
What do I want? Didn’t I just get what I wanted by having Amelia come here to be with me? Why can’t I just accept it? Why do I keep sabotaging the good thing she brought me with this chance to be together?
I’d love to ask Ms. Patterson that very question. I laugh to myself at the idea. I’m so twisted in knots over this thing it’s a joke.
“Okay, well, that speaks volumes, doesn’t it?” she says, and I realize she’s interpreted my laughter as me not taking her question seriously.
“Only in so far as I have no clue what to do right now,” I tell her. “Thing is, I actually want you to tell me what we do. I want you to be the one to sort this out for us both. Just like you did in therapy. At the same time, whenever you get too close to that role it freaks me out.”
She nods. “It freaks me out, too.”
Those words sound odd coming from her. They’re not how she’d normally describe the situation, but she’s adapting to me and my ways. Instead of comforting me, as I’m sure she hopes it will, it makes me laugh again.
“Just tell me, Amelia. Just go ahead and be the one to tell me why I’m so conflicted. Reveal me to myself once more. I promise, I’m asking for it this time.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“But don’t you see, that’s why I thought we could make a go of it before. Because you’re the one who knows me and can set me on the right path when I’m fucking up. I trust you. I need you.”
This argument doesn’t sway her, I can tell. It’s too much of me saying I need her as a therapist, not a lover.
“I adore you,” I add. “Always have done.”
Her expression softens. But she’s still not quite swayed. “Daniel, I think you will begin to resent me if I bring that kind of analysis into our relationship.”
“Well, then, what? You’d have me go see some other therapist?”
She looks alarmed at the suggestion but takes pains to hide it. In any case, the idea of me seeing someone else in this way seems to be the thing she needs to finally do what I ask. She diagnoses me.
“You’re conflicted because you still don’t know how to be close with someone. But at the same time, you can’t help but think of all the ways I already do know you. Of all the ways I’ve been able to understand your motives. So, trying to be close with me, of all people, is actually the scariest thing you could probably do. I know too much in your mind.”
Once again, my dear Ms. Patterson has gotten to the heart of the matter. It settles upon me that she’s completely right. But I don’t like where this leaves me.
“Well, then, I’m pretty much fucked, amn’t I?” I say.
“That’s up to you.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, this is one of those times where you get to decide how you will respond. It’s where you consciously remind yourself that you are capable of doing more and being better. You get to choose to, not just take this next step, but believe in your ability to navigate it.”
I consider this for a moment. And then, I smile broadly.
“See! This is why I knew we could work. You have just proved my whole point of why we’re the right match. If you just push me a little, then I can see things for what they are. So, yeah, I am choosing to do the thing that scares me because what scares me more than being close to someone who knows me as well as you do, is not having you at all.”
Not the most romantic or confident declaration, but I’m only being honest.
Thankfully, Amelia recognizes this. She gifts me with a smile and a little shake of her head. I gratefully take it as acceptance of our imperfect connection.
I offer her my arm as gallantly as I can, and she takes it. We walk on until I spot my favorite coffee hut.
“Amelia, would you, by chance, fancy a donut?”
When she squeezes my arm and falters in her step, I look at her. There’s a funny expression on her face that I can’t quite track.
“Em, yeah, sure,” she says.
“I just thought we could grab some coffee and a donut, then go over to Crissy Field down that way.” I gesture ahead of us to the huge swath of green pitch closer to the Golden Gate Bridge. “Then we can let Roscoe have a bit of a run. I promise to take you for a real meal after that.”
“Of course, yes. That’ll be grand.”
13
Amelia
* * *
Donuts. Of all things. Of course, Daniel has no clue why I acted like an idiot at the very mention of the things. It brought Felicity and our therapy-under-false-pretenses-sessions to mind. He would have no way of knowing that, or that every time I think of her I both sting and ache. The sting is from the physical remembrance of how terribly I betrayed her. And the ache is for how much I miss her friendship.
As I’ve done so often in the last couple months, I try to shake it off.
The menu at the little building near the marina set back from the pedestrian path is a welcome distraction. Turns out they offer a hipster flair similar to my Dublin donut shop. I get a Passionfruit Milk Chocolate and Daniel requests a Vanilla Bean and a Caramel de Sel.
He insists on paying for our coffees and donuts and we walk farther until we get to the open field he’d suggested earlier.
“There you go, boy,” he tells Roscoe as he removes the lead from his collar. “Have at it.”
Roscoe doesn’t hesitate, turning and running with wild abandon down the length of the field. He keeps going until he appears to be a small bobbing speck in the distance.
“You don’t worry he’ll get off into trouble somewhere?” I ask.
“Nah. My Roscoe knows his limits. And he always comes back to me.”
We settle onto the grass and make a picnic out of our coffee and sweets. While I sit cross-legged facing the water, he stretches out on his side across from me and props himself up on o
ne elbow. We eat and drink, enjoying the temperate weather, the stunning views, and the activity of the people all around us. I’m relieved for the bit of silence between us. It’s been such a whirlwind of emotions since the moment I got here yesterday. God, was it only yesterday? With a start, I realize I never called my hotel to let them know I’d be checking in a day late.
“Oh no,” I murmur.
“What is it?” Daniel asks, and I tell him.
“Oh. Well, you don’t need a hotel anyway. You’re staying with me. Right?”
“I couldn’t ask that of your brother.”
“I could,” he says with a laugh. “And I will.” He pulls his mobile out of his pocket and starts texting furiously. “There. Done.”
“Did he reply already?”
“No.” He points out to the open expanse of the Bay where there are boats in the distance. “He’s out there somewhere, doing his sailing gig. He won’t look at his mobile for hours likely. But at least the word has been sent. You’re staying on with us.”
“I’m happy to sort out my hotel—”
“It’s done.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t think twice about it, my dear Amelia. Besides, I’d much prefer you in my bed than over at some boring hotel without me.”
I can’t help but flash to the feel of his tongue in my mouth and his hand between my legs. I knew I was drawn to him before, for all the reasons I’d told him, but I never expected that we’d have such strong chemistry. He has awakened desires I’ve never before allowed myself to give into.
“You’re very easy to read when you get those dirty thoughts going, you know?”
Pulled from my thoughts, I focus on him and realize I’ve been caught. I flush hot from the roots of my hair to my toes. “What?”
Problematic Love (Rogue Series Book 8) Page 6
