by Jo Leigh
All things became more normal with time, even the most exciting moments, if they were repeated often enough. They’d discuss her plan on Saturday. After the event. Before sex.
Okay, maybe right after.
* * *
CAMERON SIPPED HIS excellent Merlot as he watched Molly do her thing. The event was being held at the Hudson Square Wine Festival, at the City Winery in Soho. It was a cavernous music hall, wine bar, restaurant and subterranean winery that suited him to a T. He’d have liked to have spent more time talking to the vintners, but he was there for Molly.
Good thing, too, because there had been lots of milling about between tastings where he was able to smooth her way. There was even a brilliant workshop where amateur enologists were given the chance to produce their own vintage, from picking the grapes to creating their own blend and even designing a label. He could easily imagine doing that at The Four Sisters—with beer, of course—but it would take a great deal of time, effort and money to put it together well. Which he wouldn’t be around to do.
So he stood guard, as relaxed in his slacks and sport jacket as Molly appeared in her slinky beige dress that showed off her figure and made it difficult not to steal her away.
Now she and four other wine experts were tasting a number of wines, doing their swirls and sniffs and spits and notes, and it was all accompanied by a live jazz band on the stage. The place was packed, even with the thousand-dollar-per-person price tag.
He found it impossible to look at anything but Molly. Christ, he’d missed her. Even though they’d spoken on the phone daily, it hadn’t been enough. Every night the thought of her in his bed and his arms played like a loop in his head. Jacking off eased the pressure, but it was like drinking ginger beer when he was craving strong Belgian ale.
All he had to do was hang tough until after dinner. So he sipped his wine until it was her turn to talk about the wines she’d tasted, and then he couldn’t do a damn thing but hold his breath and watch her make her points with eloquence and tact using a combination of scientific observations and poetics. She had the crowd in the palm of her hand. One wine she’d called a full-bodied Marilyn Monroe, which made people laugh.
Finally they made their way to her apartment, both a little tipsy and high on the success of the evening. He felt as if he were walking on a cloud. Maybe it was just that he got to kiss her. And that she was so happy.
The only things that had changed in her studio since the last time he’d been there were the information on the whiteboard and the items on her desk.
Molly put her purse down, slipped out of her heels, then came right up close to him, her arms sliding around his waist. “Before we go any further,” she said, “I was wondering if you’d care to spend the night.”
“Hmm. Let me think for a minute.”
“You ought to. Tomorrow may be Sunday, but I still have to get up early.”
“Why on earth would you do that?”
“Sunday mornings are for writing. If I sleep too late, I tend to let myself off the hook, and I pay for that indulgence. Which means while I do want you here, we’ll need to be...”
“Do not say ‘quick,’” he pleaded. “Please. Anything but quick.”
“On task,” she replied, smiling.
“Okay, I should’ve qualified that better.”
She leaned into him. “And in the morning, you’re welcome to shower in the kitchen, but then it’ll be coffee to go, and I kick you out.”
“Wow, you are one tough negotiator.”
She inhaled, and it made her breasts press against his chest. He wanted to take off his jacket, but he wouldn’t disturb her for anything. “I have to be. It’s this or nothing, I’m afraid. The only way to make this work is to stick to the schedule. I’d actually like to see you more often, but sticking to the rules would need to be nonnegotiable.”
“I’m very in favor of this plan. In fact, this is a prizewinning plan that should be celebrated. Soon.”
“Then I suggest you do whatever it is you need to do before we begin, and I’ll do the same.”
He made a show of raising his arm. “Should we synchronize our watches?”
She nipped his chin. “Just hurry. I’ve been thinking about this for too long.”
One quick but passionate kiss later, he was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He’d come prepared tonight with condoms, a travel toothbrush and the hope that they’d come back to her place. He’d never dreamed of such a great outcome.
She took his place, and as he was taking off his clothes, he saw there were two plastic water bottles on either side of her bed.
Before he got completely naked, he folded down the covers and left them on the floor. He wanted nothing to get in the way of this delicate operation. His intention was to give her as much pleasure as possible and to reinforce her decision to do this every chance they could grab.
* * *
MOLLY’S BACK ARCHED so high, she thought she might sprain something. It was worth it, though, as she was electrified by an orgasm that rushed through her body like a wave. Her hands were in his hair, although she wasn’t moving him away or keeping him in place because she couldn’t decide what she wanted. The pleasure was so close to being too much, but stopping was out of the question.
She didn’t have much say, it turned out, because he pulled back, and even though she thought she’d ripped out some of his hair, he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he lifted her legs and put them not on his hips, which she was expecting, but on his shoulders, and holy cow, how glad was she to have been taking yoga?
Cruelly, he made her wait while he put on the condom, but seconds later, he thrust inside her so hard, so deep, she might have just woken not only the neighbors in her building, but the ones across the alley.
“Good gah,” she said, completely aware gah wasn’t a word and not caring at all. In fact, all she could manage from that point on were a series of ah, ah, ahs as she pulled the fitted sheet free from the mattress.
She tried so, so hard to watch his face in its most feral state, his teeth bared, his skin flushed red and his breath exploding with each furious exhalation.
Time got all messed up because she was coming again and he was leaning way over her. One leg was on the bed, one still on his shoulder, and he wasn’t moving at all. But he was groaning so loudly, the next step was probably a visit by the police.
When she came back to her senses, he was at her side. They were plastered together by their sticky flesh, panting with no rhythm at all, and she felt sure she’d lost about a gazillion brain cells, because she couldn’t put two thoughts together.
Through some miracle she couldn’t explain, a bottle of cold water ended up in her hand. Again, time had hopped like a bunny, because suddenly she could breathe like a normal human and the air coming from her stupid window unit was actually giving her goose bumps.
“That,” she said, considering the effort it would take to rise up on her elbow to drink, “was incredible.”
A grunt from next to her signaled Cam’s agreement.
She finally marshaled all her energy and rose up far enough to drink, and she nearly polished off all sixteen ounces.
Finally, she looked at Cam. And laughed out loud at not only his hair, which was hilariously sticking out as if he’d been electrocuted, but his immensely satisfied grin.
“Thirty-two minutes,” he said.
“Wow.”
He nodded. “Damn, I’m good.”
“I didn’t think men were supposed to be pleased about being fast.”
“Hey. You’re the one who made the rules.”
“And you took that as a challenge, I assume.”
“Damn straight. No half measures from this guy. Not for you.”
She leaned over and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“Do you have to go to sleep right this second?”
She shook her head. “Not right this second.”
“Good.” He stood up, nearly bumping into the wall in his rush. Instead of going straight to the bathroom, he gathered up the covers and put them back on the bed. Not very neatly, but it was still a nice example of modern-day chivalry.
Soon enough, she’d finished her turn in the bathroom, turned off the lights and snuggled close to him under the covers. “Question.”
“Shoot.”
“For someone who isn’t supposed to be athletic, you’re in damn fine shape.”
“Swimming. I started in college.”
“I knew it,” she said.
“How?”
“I’m a genius.”
“It’s the shoulders,” he said. “Am I right?”
“I guess you’re a genius, too.”
“My nosy sisters have no idea I swim competitively. And I win, often. Makes me feel superior when they act like they know everything.” Cam looked so adorably smug, it made her laugh. “Hey, how come you call your folks Phillip and Simone?”
“Hello, non sequitur,” she said, not sure why her chest had tightened. Her relationship to them was no secret. “What brought that on?”
“Dad asked if you’d like to bring them over for dinner sometime, and I realized I didn’t know much about them.”
“They’re not my parents.” There wasn’t any specific reason she hadn’t told him about being a foster kid, but then again, he had a family and there were so many ideas and stereotypes about growing up in the system.
“Wait, those are the people you referred to as your mentors, right?”
She nodded. “They were my foster family when I was fifteen. I lived with them for three years, until I went away to college.”
He squeezed her a little tighter. “You grew up in foster care?”
She nodded and looked at him in the very dim light. She wasn’t sure what his expression was, not precisely. She hoped like hell it didn’t look like pity. “Yep.”
“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“I don’t recommend it. But I’m luckier than a lot of kids. I was in a really good group home when I was young. No horror stories, other than not being adopted.”
“That makes no sense to me. You’re adorable now. I can only imagine you as a little girl.”
She bumped her head to his. “I was shy. I mean really, really shy. The kind that was off-putting to potential parents. When I said I wasn’t picked, that’s not accurate. I never stuck. Until Simone and Phillip came along.”
“They weren’t at the banquet.”
For the first time in the conversation, she truly felt uncomfortable. She wanted to explain how busy they were, how much they were needed at the vineyard this time of year. Instead, she said, “They live in France. They moved shortly after I left for college in Sonoma. We keep in touch.”
“Too bad they couldn’t have been there, though.”
She shrugged and yawned, although she’d hadn’t needed to.
He kissed her forehead. “Okay, sleepyhead. You have your alarm set?”
“Uh-huh. You won’t be so chipper when it rings.”
“I can’t wait to wake up next to you,” he said, his lips close to her ear. “Anytime.”
Well, she thought as she moved her head to get settled on her pillow instead of his shoulder. This might not have worked out quite the way she’d hoped. The fact that she would wake up to Cam made her want to fall asleep instantly and at the same time not sleep at all so she wouldn’t miss a second. So yeah, he was still a distraction.
But she’d deal with that tomorrow. Tonight she would enjoy being in this happy place until she fell asleep.
13
ON FRIDAY NIGHT the pub was standing room only. Luckily, Cam wasn’t needed up front, so he stayed in the back working on Molly’s IPA. It was coming along just fine. Over the past few days, Cam had ended up drinking an entire bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon trying to work out everything he could about the flavor, the astringency, the mouthfeel of the noble grapes and the particular blend of the vintner. Nothing more to tell now, not until the fermentation was complete. Of course, it wouldn’t taste like wine, but that wasn’t the point.
He wanted to surprise her. To give her something only he could. No one ever said chemists didn’t have big egos.
But he needed to shift his energy over to the fall brews, despite the fact that it was past eight o’clock and he hadn’t eaten any dinner. The fall beers were in different stages, two having been failures, which was disappointing. They’d sounded good on paper, but there’d been a chalky aftertaste in one, and he had a feeling the second ale would be better with wheat than barley, so that was next on his agenda.
As he went to the malting kiln for the final roast, he thought about Molly’s schedule. As hard as they’d tried to meet since last Saturday night, it hadn’t worked out. He still felt bad about her falling asleep in the middle of phone sex Tuesday. His fault. He’d heard the exhaustion in her voice. Then on Wednesday, when she’d had some free time, he’d been caught up in a drama at the bar. There’d been a fight and the police had been involved. By the time things were resolved, she’d gone to bed.
Tonight she was teaching a wine class and wouldn’t be home for another hour or so. He’d wait to give her a call, but not too long. If he caught her in transit, maybe he could convince her to meet him for a drink. Not at the pub—somewhere else, where they didn’t know anyone. Good Lord, he missed her.
The lonely week had given him time to think about how he still knew so little about her. Maybe it wasn’t his business, but she seemed reluctant to open up much about her past. More often than not, she’d turn his questions around. Molly knew a hell of a lot about his childhood. But even though he’d told her he’d lost his mother when he was five, she’d never asked what had happened, and he’d never volunteered the information. He still wasn’t sure why.
The scent of the toasted wheat was fantastic, but it would be even better when he added the chocolate malt. First he tasted a bit of the wheat, making sure that the flavor was what he had in mind. Closing his eyes so he could focus completely, he let his senses lead the way through the process, making sure he used all the parts of his tongue and breathed deeply to catch all the subtlety he could.
He heard a sniffle before he looked and saw that it was Emmy, standing not two feet away from him, her eyes red rimmed and damp. “What? What’s happened?”
“Men are jerks,” she said.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. What have we done now?”
“The new guy sucked. And I spent a lot of money on this dress.”
It wasn’t like Emmy to be so...girlie. He had to admit, she did look pretty in her pale blue halter dress, although he wasn’t sure about the shoes. The heels added at least five inches to her six-foot frame. Maybe she’d intimidated her new guy and he’d made a run for it. “What did he do?”
She tossed her purse on top of one of the closed barrels of malt then leaned against a post, her arms crossed over her chest. “He was supposed to take me out to dinner. His trading card said his favorite restaurant was Babbo, that Iron Chef guy’s restaurant, so when Ronny said he wanted to surprise me, I expected, you know, Babbo.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Hey,” she said, pointing at Cam. “You know me. I’m not all about the money, so it wasn’t that I wanted him to spend beaucoup bucks.”
“I do know that. Where did he take you?”
“Chili’s. I mean, I like Chili’s. Chili’s is great. But it’s not where you take someone you want to impress. Not on a first date. We had to wait in line for, like, twenty minutes. And then he kept ordering margaritas, and by the time we were ready to go, he was drunk and handsy, and he
kept trying to stick his tongue down my throat.”
“Okay, I see your point about him being a jerk, although I don’t think he necessarily speaks for the entire gender.”
“I was looking forward to him. We’d had a great conversation on the phone. We had so much in common. He loves basketball and beer, and he’s from a big family, too, and he lives in Brooklyn, so it isn’t too far. I don’t know why I keep trying. It’s so much easier for you guys. Hell, you go out on one date with Molly and it’s true love. You’re probably already planning the wedding.”
“It’s not like that. I’m sorry you’re unhappy, though. I know it takes a lot to find the right person. I always say—”
“I swear to God, if you say one word about chemistry, I’m going to kick you into next year.”
He held up his hands. She hadn’t beaten him up since he was a kid, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. “Come on,” he said. “Let me buy you a beer. You can tell me all about it.”
“You’re working.”
He shrugged. “It’s late. Nothing that can’t wait.”
Emmy sniffed again. “I didn’t even get dessert.”
“One dessert, coming up.” He put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder.
“I’m so glad you’re not that guy. You were damn lucky to be raised by us women. No wonder Molly likes you so much.”
“Uh-oh. You’ve said something nice about me. He really must have been a jerk.”
“Shut up, you little twerp. You had dinner yet?”
“Nope.”
His cell phone rang. He hoped it was Molly, but he hesitated.
“Go ahead. Answer,” Emmy told him. “It might be Molly. Anyway, I don’t need you to be there when I eat a whole cheesecake.”
He knew she wasn’t kidding and grabbed his phone. “How come you’re not in class?”
“I let them go half an hour early.”
