by Aceves, Gigi
“Where’s Luke?”
“Ah,” Sarah clears her throat. “Why don’t you ask Dan, Soph? He can explain it better.”
I look at Sarah with obvious confusion on my face while thinking of who I need to call. I’m about to call my dad when the last person on the face of the Earth I ever wanted to see steps out of the elevator.
Dear God, is this my punishment for giving Luke a hard time?
“Good Morning, Ms. Andrews.”
“What are you doing here?”
The bulldog in question raises his brow at me. “I work here, Ms. Andrews. You didn’t get the memo? I suggest you call my boss. He’ll give you the clarity you obviously need. Do you need his direct extension?”
I want to grab my Prada shoes and throw them at him. I can’t believe this guy has the nerve to talk to me this way. I’m not calling Dan; I’m bringing in the big gun and calling my dad. I reach for the residence phone and ask to be connected to my father. He’ll certainly put an end to this. I need Luke. I want Luke.
“Dad? Where is Luke? I want him?”
A heavy sigh greets me followed by the quick answer of NO, followed by ‘I’ll see you later, princess’. My father, the most powerful man on Earth, hangs up the phone and hangs me out to dry. I turn to face the bulldog himself.
“What seems to be the problem, Ms. Andrews? Didn’t get your way? I suggest you get with the program. I’m in-charge of your detail now. Actually, the President said and I quote, ‘Agent Williams, you have carte blanch as far as my daughter’s protection is concerned.”
My eyes narrow into slits, chest out, shoulders straight. “You are such a provoking, insensitive, infuriating, vexatious human being!”
“Noted, Ms. Andrews.”
I quickly spin from his gaze and march toward the elevator all the while talking to myself and childishly putting a hex on Mr. Bulldog.
Just when that memory ends it’s replaced with another one. This one thankfully is less confrontational.
“Where are we going?” Damien asks as he opens the car door.
“Agent Williams, we have some serious undergarment shopping to be done. So, will you kindly take us to Le Bustiere?”
Damien clears his throat as he pulls on his collar. “You should have given us ample time to do a sweep and maybe request for the store to close while you’re there. Can we postpone it for another time?”
“Nope.” I let the ‘p’ pop to make my point as I climb into the SUV effectively stopping any counter argument.
Darcee and I are snickering surreptitiously, knowing the guys will be uncomfortable. Once we set foot in the boutique, I can’t help but giggle out loud witnessing how awkward Damien looks. I grab a couple of racy bras with matching panties just to make him squirm even more.
“Agent Williams, can you hold this for me?”
He takes a couple of deep breaths, holding the hangers as if they’re infected. Being that it’s a small boutique there are only two fitting rooms with a door that covers from the shoulders down to the middle of my calves. There are no mirrors against the walls but only on the door; therefore, there’s no chance anyone can see my female bits.
“Can you hand me the see through black lace with the matching thong, Damien?”
He hisses under his breath. “Geez, this is unbelievable.”
“What? Are you saying something?”
“Nothing, Sophia. Can you just hurry up so we can get out of here?”
“Would you rather have Jared or Quinn stand in your place?”
I think I must have push him too far since he turns to face me, his face as red as Darcee’s lipstick.
“If you’re trying to get a rise out of me, you certainly have succeeded. I call a truce, okay? Just make this quick. I’m hanging on by a thread here.”
His eyes bore into mine, and I match his stare without blinking. I want to give in but I won’t. Any chance to make him squirm is on the top of my to-do list. This moment is too good to pass up.
“I made it rise? Hmmm. . . .” I slowly let my eyes travel down . . . all the way down his impressive package. “Interesting. . . . don’t you think so, Agent Williams?”
“Sophia . . .”
I look back up wearing the most relaxed and easy going smile on my face. Surprisingly enough, he flashes the most laid-back smile I’ve ever seen. If my heart didn’t skip a beat, I don’t know what to call the staccato rhythm my heart just did.
“You win, Wildflower. I surrender. Note that I won’t allow anyone to stand here but me, even though I’m literally dying. I’m sure you’re enjoying this at my expense, but seeing you smile is worth it.”
He rewards me with another heart stopping smile, then turns around and slowly blows out a breath as he props his arm up still holding the very things that made him rise. I smile from ear to ear. He just made my heart go boom boom again.
The memory, as comical as it was, caused my eyes to water because his absence will create a big, unfillable chasm. I know how much I’ll miss him being near me and his eyes watching me, following my every move. The melancholy turn of my emotions churn yet another memory. This particular memory makes me yearn more for him to be the father of my children.
“Ms. Sophia, I don’t think I can do a pirouette.” Megan, my five year old student pouts while she stomps her little feet.
“Oh yes you can, Megan. If you practice every day you’ll eventually get it.”
She leans in and whispers, “I’m trying to look like a princess for him.”
“Him? Who?”
She turns and points at Damien standing at the corner keeping watch. An idea sparks in me and hopefully Damien will cooperate. After all, it’s to make this little girl’s heart happy.
“Damien! Can you please come here?” I wave at him while winking at Megan who’s mouth opens up into a big ‘O’.
He saunters our way and kneels like I am.
“Damien, I’d like you to meet Megan.”
“Hi, Megan.”
“Hi.” Megan’s sweet voice makes Damien smile.
“What do you think about her pirouettes?” I nudge Damien’s shoulder.
“Well, I think you look great. With practice you’ll be as good as Ms. Sophia.”
“Are you a prince? You’re so tall and handsome.”
Damien smiles and caresses the apple of her cheek which makes her giggle. “No, I’m not a prince, but I’m certainly watching over a couple of princesses.”
“Princesses?” Megan asks. Her eyes excitedly grow as big as saucers.
“You and Ms. Sophia.”
She squeals and runs off shouting she’s a princess. Damien offers his hand to help me up while I give it a squeeze, thanking him for going along with me.
“Thank you . . . for . . . that,” I murmur bashfully.
“No problem. Anything for you and the princess in training.”
“You’re a good guy, Mr. Williams, even though you have your crazy moments.”
He smirks. “Thanks, I’m good because of you, Ms. Andrews.”
“Even the crazy moments?”
Another grin, another thud-thud booming of my heart. “Even the crazy moments, especially the crazy moments.” He walks ahead of me then says over his shoulder, “I love a challenge, Ms. Andrews.”
My shield walks away taking my heart with him.
I feel the car come to a stop with Luke clearing his throat. “Soph, we’re here. I see you haven’t gotten rid of daydreaming on a whim, huh?” I can hear the laughter in his voice.
Guilty as charged. The only thing I’m going to deny is who I’m daydreaming about.
“Whatever, Luke. It’s not daydreaming. It’s called remembering.” I smile back at him waiting for Sarah to open my door for me.
He turns to face me. “Well, maybe you don’t have to daydream anymore, Soph.” Happiness twinkles in his eyes along with his gorgeous smile.
As soon as I walk into my studio with the outside light and my reflection serving as a backdrop si
lence surrounds me. Everything including the hurt in my heart about what could’ve been just melts away. As I spin and turn, dancing to a silent music that only exists in my head, I become one with nothingness.
Mine—he will never belong to me. Even though it’s been what I’ve wanted for so long, the ability to accept what couldn’t be is something I’m working on. It’s hard but doable.
Yours—I’ll forever be his. My head needs to correct my heart’s way of thinking. If he wants me . . . if he truly needs me, he’ll choose me.
DAMIEN
After I step out of the President’s study, I drive to her studio knowing that’s where she’s headed. Everything is set in motion, the only thing I’m waiting for is to see her face and tell her ‘we’ can finally happen.
Am I confident—Absolutely.
Am I fearful—Very.
I’ve never felt this before. Correction . . . I’ve felt it before when I was faced with a hailstorm of bullets coming my way, when bombs were blowing up on my rear my side and everywhere around me. There’s an explanation to my fear. Danger is close, and the threat to my survival is real because I’m right smack in the middle of a war zone.
The fear I’m experiencing now, the fear that shrouds me isn’t a direct threat to my life. It’s a direct threat to my heart. It’s an emotional fear that can’t physically kill me, but would emotionally slaughter me.
I promised myself I’d have her experience life . . . life where she’s free, life where there’s freedom of both body and mind, and I’m the vehicle for that. I believe that I am. My love for her needs to be built into my confidence to achieve her happiness in any way possible. Our love needs to have a powerful foundation because what we’re about to face will rock us to our core. The objective will be to destroy ‘us’, and if there’s a crack, a split, a break, we will crumble. I won’t survive that. I can’t survive it.
As the black SUV pulls up, my heart’s speed spikes knowing she’s within reach . . . within my touch. The moment is here, I can almost taste it. Just as she enters the building, Mark pulls up. Even though I know Mark is gay, I hate seeing him touch what’s mine. I want to break his fingers with every touch, to fracture his damn hands with every glide over her skin, to rip his arms off with every lift. I don’t care if it’s part of what they do. She would dance solo if it were up to me.
I exit out of my ’69 Camaro as Luke walks my way. “Are you sure you want to tell her here? Now?”
“Luke, I can’t waste any more time. I’ll wait until her practice ends and take her home. We’ve talked about this. I’ve discussed it with the boss, so we’re good, okay?”
He puts both hands up in surrender, and I walk past him and Travis. I give Jared a nod as I pass him in the hallway, then signal Sarah to move away from the door so I can stand guard . . . watching my Wildflower.
I’ve seen her dance with Mark plenty of times and every time feels like the first. The feeling of wanting to crush Mark’s hands is at the forefront of my mind, pulling his body off her is a close second. I see red as I follow his hands as they glide across her exposed stomach. When his fingers make their way to the underside of her breast, my blood threatens to boil over. The potent poison of jealousy slowly finds its way into my blood, creating a ravenous desire to pummel the shit out of Mark. Taking deep breaths in and blowing them out slowly calms me some; but when he dips her and runs his hand from her neck to the valley between her breasts, landing flat on her stomach while her leg is hiked up on his hip, my feet move under their own accord.
“Mark, take ten!” The words slip out of my mouth with each purposeful step.
Sophia looks in my direction while Mark rights them both up. With my eyes drilling into his, he nods and leaves while Sophia is left immobile staring at me.
“What are you doing here?” Her chest rises and falls, lip licking is in progress which revs my blood to full throttle.
“Are you almost done here, baby?”
“Baby?” She’s acting like a smart ass, turning around looking for said ‘baby’. I almost want to smack her ass. “Me? Your baby?” She’s pointing to herself while I countdown from ten for more patience.
Now she’s walking in circles mumbling. “I can’t believe this! You’re hot and cold! Now you’re willing to cross the imaginary gray line?” Abruptly she stops and stares at me.
Finally! My Wildflower comes back down to Earth. The surge of need to hold her is powerful; it’s taking every single ounce of my will-power to control myself. Damn! She’s breathtaking even in her crazy state. She’s my kind of crazy.
“Breathe for me, baby.”
“Quit calling me baby! I’m not your baby! You didn’t want me, remember?” She narrows her eyes, and they bulge seconds later. I’ve seen this look before. Roxy has perfected it and probably taught my Wildflower to do the same.
Grinning at her, I say what’s on my mind. “You’re beautiful, Sophia.”
She huffs out loud then says, “I’m close to losing it, so don’t lie! You can’t butter me up, Damien.”
Now, I gift her with my smile. “Not lying. You’re my kind of crazy, beautiful. I’m close to losing it myself because I want to hold you, want to kiss you.” We stay staring at each other. My smile stays plastered on my face because whose wouldn’t. The most beautiful creature is before me.
The corner of her lips tilts slightly upward, then just as quickly a frown makes an appearance on her face. “You’re not doing this to me again. No,” she says then turns away from me. Her hands land on her hips as she takes in a couple of deep breaths. “Can you please just go before I lose the last bit of respect I have for you?”
I’m struck, dumbfounded, lost, out of focus for a second. This isn’t how I expected things to go down. I’ve hurt her so much that every ounce of feeling she has for me has seeped out of her heart. I give myself a few seconds to wallow in fear, and her a few minutes to drown in her crazy ideas of me leaving because that’s not happening.
“Are you done with your speech because I have something to say. I’m not leaving this room without you hearing it. That’s the only play here, so how do you want to proceed?”
She shakes her head with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t like you right now, Damien.”
“Well, too bad. I’d love to love you right now,” I say as I take a few steps toward her. “Why don’t you turn around and see it in my eyes. You’ve always said you know exactly how I feel by looking at them. So look! See how much I want to love you.”
A soft gasp escapes her. How I wish she were facing me so I could see how she’s punishing her luscious lips, but force has never been a part of our relationship, if anything control has been.
“I can’t.” She shakes her head again, adamant in refusing me the absolute happiness of seeing her face.
I move a little closer, so close that I can see her body tremble. I hope not in anger, but in sheer anticipation of what my closeness does to her, exactly what her closeness does to me.
Barely hanging on by a thread, a slow release of breath from my mouth creates goosebumps in its wake, and her body expels yet another quiver. “Why can’t you look at me? You hate me that much?”
She exclaims, “No!” Then she stops. “I don’t hate you. I hate the power you have over me. You compel me to do things, to feel things . . . things I’ve buried already. Now . . . now you’re resurrecting them to life, and I don’t know if I could. . . .”
“I compel you,” I utter these three words slowly; hoping she’ll understand the strength behind the word. “I don’t ever want to compel you enough to lose your mind . . . what I want is to take hold of your heart enough to make you love only me. I want to capture your mind enough to see a future with only me. I want your body to submit to mine as mine submits to yours. I want all this but more than anything . . . above everything else. . . . I.Just.Want.You.”
Silence surrounds us after laying my heart on the line. I know she understands everything I’ve said. I know she’s analyzing ever
ything, asking herself if this is really happening, or if this is yet another precursor to rejection from me. Regret fills me. If she won’t turn around to face me, I might forget about control and pin her against the wall.
Desire wins, and in seconds, I turn and hoist her up as her legs instantly wrap around my hips. I’m glad our limbs are on the same page. I walk us over the wall, and my mouth immediately finds hers. My tongue seeks its partner, needing more of her heat against mine. She tastes so good, even better than I fantasized, and my mouth is watering, imagining what all of her would taste like. The need to stop is there tickling my mind, but the desperation to have her skin touching mine, her tongue dancing with mine, her skin rubbing against me as her fingers run through my hair sends a spark of energy consuming all of me.
“We need to stop, baby, while I still can.”
A frustrated groan escapes her well-loved lips as my longing for her intensifies. Controlling my need while she’s within reach is driving me insane.
“You’re doing it again,” she groans against my lips.
“Doing what?”
“Stopping this, putting on the brakes every time we’re about to get down and dirty even though it’s just kissing! It’s still frustrating.”
I pull back from her, surprised at her outburst. “I don’t ever just want to get down and dirty with you. At least, not for our first time. I want to savor every second my tongue grazes your skin, or every time my body touches yours. I don’t want to just enjoy you for a few short moments; I need to enjoy you a lot longer than that. . . . a lifetime. But even that isn’t enough, I don’t think.”
Sighing with a smile she mumbles, “And then, you give that speech! How can I possibly stay mad at you? I don’t just feel your love through your actions, Damien. I feel it in your words. I know this is going faster than what would be deemed as acceptable, but we’ve been fighting our feelings for each other so long. I want to be . . .”
Shaking my head in response, I utter, “I want to be the first to say it . . .”
