Trading Places

by Anita Cox

  I leaned my elbows against the kitchen island. “Exhausting, but fun. I think it may take my liver a few months to recover.”

  “Sounds like my kind of party!”

  “It was fun, but I’m ready to get back to work. I’m going to be seriously overwhelmed for a while.” I sipped at my coffee then looked at her. “I agreed to move in with John.”

  Olivia clapped. “It’s about damned time!”

  I shook my head. “Catch me up. Where are we at the office?”

  She waved me off. “Everything is right on schedule. I’ve put off any new appointments until a week after the launch of the beauty line. I don’t know how much vacation you managed to have on your actual vacation. I have fifty additional stores to add to the launch. While the client was happy, her production manager is about to have a meltdown.”

  “I bet. This grew far beyond their initial projections.” I bit my lip. Failure to meet stocking demands could do serious damage to a product launch.

  “Well, they went from one shift to three. They’ve added a lot of jobs, which has afforded them huge tax abatements.” She pulled out the stool next to me, perching herself on top.

  “Yes, but if I overextend her finances, it could collapse her entire business. There is a huge risk here I need to take into account. If she fails, so do we.” My shoulders started to tense. I was stressing myself out already and I hadn’t even made it to the office yet.

  “Candy, relax. Her financing is fine. I made sure to cover the bases while you were gone. Remember, she’s got a whole team behind her and she’s not an idiot. She’s hired experts to help her succeed.”

  Olivia and I caught up on office business. While I was worried about getting into the office early to catch up on work, Olivia had already worked the extra hours to make sure I had nothing to catch up on.

  “You really are invaluable.”

  She winked. “I’m quite the catch,” she teased.

  “Now we have an hour and a half before we even need to leave to go to work. So tell me, how can I help you not be so overwhelmed?”

  I went around the counter to pour myself another cup of coffee. “Oh man, I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t think you can help. I have to pack up this entire place; figure out how I’m going to get it moved and then find someone to lease it.” I filled her in on my panty-sniffer fears.

  Olivia laughed. “I can help. You don’t have to worry about me sniffing your unmentionables either. I may swipe a pair of your shoes, but I won’t sniff your panties.”

  Giving her a half-grin while I considered her offer, I added, “My best friend is getting divorced, so I have girlfriend duties too. You can’t help with those.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “No, but there is a clear solution here and part of me wants to call you an idiot for not coming up with this yourself.”

  My left eyebrow shot up a little too quickly, showing annoyance rather than interest.

  “Don’t shoot me!” She held up her hands and giggled. “But if your girl needs a place and you need someone to take over yours, wouldn’t it make sense for you to offer her your apartment instead of worrying about a stranger wrecking what you’ve been paying a mortgage on for years?”

  “Well, I did turn the lease into a purchase, so I guess I’m not actually subletting it.” I shrugged. “She’s meticulously clean.”

  “See? It’s a simple solution. Talk to your girl about it and see what she says. In the meantime, just keep her drunk and lead her to sex and she’ll be fine.”

  “That’s actually a really good idea. I am an idiot!” I laughed. “Really, I’m just all over the place. I’m really sort of nervous about losing my autonomy. I haven’t lived with anyone since my divorce.”

  Olivia lit a smoke, then spoke as she exhaled. “Just think of it as a trade; you get all the sex you want and all you have to do is remember to put the toilet seat down every time you need to pee.”

  Her mischievous wink made me laugh.

  “I guess I’m just nervous to really make the next step.” The truth hurt even as the words passed my lips. Moving in meant losing my safety zone. If things went south with John, I would be starting all over again. The thought turned my stomach.

  “Maybe you should go back to therapy. I mean, I know you started because of the sex thing, but this is deep relationship stuff. I’m sure you have some emotional scars or something that needs, you know, a professional.”

  I groaned. Therapy. That word was dirtier to me than any sexual depravity. “Can’t I do something else, like revisit my father’s death…maybe visit an oral surgeon?”

  Olivia shrugged and said nothing else on the matter. We enjoyed our coffee as I filled her in on our vacation. Her eyes widened at some details and she laughed at others. Finally, it was time to leave for work.

  It was nice having Olivia around as my friend and assistant. She knew everything there was to know about me and I knew I could count on her. I had to remember to show my gratitude to her in some way.

  Chapter 5

  Work went smoothly and before I knew it, the work day was over. John was at what was about to be our new home, so I agreed to meet him there. I figured the only way to face my fear was head on.

  Pulling behind the building, I found the spots John had marked off for the residents of the building…us. After I parked the car, I walked through the English Arbor covered in trumpet vines to a rear stone patio I hadn’t seen before.

  A path was outlined in clay pots growing lavender. The heavenly aroma seemed to dance around me with the breeze, filling the entire space with the wonderful smell.

  Looking down I realized the path was strewn with rose petals, leading the way inside. An involuntary grin spread across my face. John was inside waiting, rose petals a precursor to whatever romantic interlude he had planned.

  I kicked off my heels, scooped them up and ran inside the unlocked door. I gasped as my eyes tried to register everything in view. John had not renovated the main floor the last time I had been here. It had been intended to house a business.

  Now the floors were covered with distressed knotty pine. A pool table sat across the room, but in true form of my new roommate, it wasn’t any normal pool table. It had been carved out of an exotic wood I did not recognize.

  A singular tall round table stood out, definitely out of place. A lone glass of champagne rested on the surface with a small note. This is yours. Follow the roses.

  Grabbing the champagne, I followed the rose petals up a set of open stairs. Reaching the upper floor, I found a large white box with large red letters scrawled on it. Candy, put me on.

  Kneeling down, I carefully placed my glass of champagne on the floor next to the box. Full of anticipation, I tried not to damage the pretty box as I lifted the lid. Inside was a satin robe and a pair of heeled slippers with pink wispy feathers decorating the toe.

  Stripping out of my suit as fast as I could manage, I slipped into the robe and slid on the shoes. In the bottom of the box was another handwritten note instructing me to continue following the roses.

  They led me around a corner, through the large master bedroom, and to a set of open patio doors. Soft music poured through the door from outside.

  John was lounging in a chair, wearing only a loose pair of cotton pants with a drawstring waistband. I stood, staring at him for a moment. His body was bronzed from two weeks on the island. The white pants set off his tanned abs. His jaw pointed toward the sky and his eyes were closed. He looked relaxed, peaceful even.

  “Wow.” I said, waking him.

  “Hello, beautiful!” he said as he stood from the chair.

  “Hello to you too. What’s all of this?” I smiled and motioned at myself in the satin robe.

  John fought a grin. “I thought your first homecoming should be special.” He shrugged, “And I wanted you as naked as I could get you and still be decent.” He winked as he wrapped his left arm around the small of my back, pulling me in close.

  Ou
r lips brushed in a soft, sensual kiss.

  “You’re seriously spoiling me,” I crooned.

  John brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “It’s just the beginning, love.” He held me firmly and crushed his lips against mine as he held me in place.

  My heart raced as he imposed his will in the most sensual way, holding me firmly in place while devouring my mouth.

  When he released me, I had to pause to catch my breath. The lust building between us had us both panting.

  “Dinner before dessert,” he said before grabbing my hand to turn me around. I’d been so busy admiring him I’d missed the small table, covered in a white cloth. Two plates capped by silver domes rested on top, while white lilies splayed about filled the empty space.

  John led me to the table, pulled out my chair and eased me into my seat. He claimed the seat across from me, then removed the covers. My plate contained salmon, steamed baby carrots and whipped herbed potatoes.

  “It looks lovely.” My emotions bubbled to the top and I sniffed. This had taken time, planning and forethought. It was romantic and sexy. I didn’t deserve him.

  John opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. His brow furrowed momentarily before offering a sincere smile.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He took a fork full of salmon, chewing while gazing at me. “I know the tears were because you feel touched, but seeing you cry just…it pulls at my heart.” He shrugged. “Guess I’m a wuss.”

  I snickered. “You’re definitely not a wuss. Everything is beautiful, the house, the flowers, the dinner. You’ve worked so hard.” I placed my hand on top of his.

  The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow on the balcony. John poured a glass of wine, handing it to me with a grin.

  “I know we haven’t moved our things yet, but I’d like us to spend the weekend here.” He gazed at the glass in his hand, not making eye contact.

  Was he afraid I would reject him?

  More than anything I wanted to make him happy. The idea of moving in together had seemed appealing when I agreed, but the closer we got to making the move the more trepidation I felt. What was wrong with me? How could moving in together be so terrifying?

  “Sure.” It was all I could say. I knew he expected more enthusiasm, which I could not muster.

  “Don’t worry, Candy. The Wi-Fi gets installed tomorrow. I already know you’re a workaholic.”

  Cocking my head to the side I grinned. “You know me too well.” At least it was a good cover. Right?

  John deserved better. He deserved more than a silly little woman who fought inside her head when he had gone through so much trouble putting together a fantastic evening.

  “Everything is beautiful. You continue to amaze me. I must be the luckiest woman alive.” I stroked my thumb over the back of his hand, trying to offer reassurance

  “You’re the one who amazes me. You’re so smart and so beautiful but you chose me. I still don’t know what you see in me, but I’m glad it’s enough to make you stay.”

  My mouth fell open. “John, are you serious?”

  “…as a heart attack.” He smiled sheepishly.

  “Sweetheart, you are a catch. You are handsome, wealthy, you’ve got great abs and you are incredibly romantic. That on top of the fact that you are incredibly talented in and out of the bedroom, what girl wouldn’t want to hang onto you?”

  He grinned and put his hand on my knee, slipping his fingers under my robe. “I’m only wealthy because of your amazing marketing skills.” He shook his head. “You like my bedroom skills, huh?”

  That devilish grin of his made my heart melt. The familiar warmth pooled between my legs in response to his touch.

  “As evidenced by the orgasms you cause.” My face burned red. I still had issues verbalizing sexual content. It’d be nice if I got over it eventually.

  “I’m ready for dessert. How about you?” John asked as he stood from his chair and pulled me to my feet. His arms slid around my waist as he bent down to kiss me. “I’m never letting go. You’d better get used to having me around.”

  From anyone else it may have sounded like a threat, but from John it was a validation of his love and loyalty to me.

  “I love you.” The words came out in a choked whisper. I swallowed hard to try to sound more brave when I repeated the words.

  “I love you too, Candy. One day you’ll trust that. You’ll know,” he paused as he held the sides of my face and gazed into my eyes, “that my love for you is endless. It knows no bounds. I would rather rip off my own arm than to cause you to cry.” In an effort to show me the depth of his words he kissed me with such passion our teeth knocked together.

  Fisting my hand in his hair, I pulled him in hard. I needed to let go of my fears and appreciate the fact that this tremendous man wanted me in his life. He wanted to live together, to love together and I was acting like a nervous teen.

  John slid his hands over the cheeks of my rear, pulling my body as close as he could, his excitement evident as it poked at my stomach.

  He released me from the kiss, swiftly bending down to scoop up my legs in one arm. A throaty growl escaped as he hurried me to the bed, just inside the French doors.

  As quickly as he put me on the bed, he was on top of me, ripping open my satin robe. He scooted his pants just below his erection, then completely impaled me with it in one thrust.

  I let out a wail and gasped, clutching at his triceps. My eyes widened at his ferocity.

  John paused, then gave another hard thrust, my body stretching around him.

  “John,” I tried to speak but the mixture of pain and pleasure had my mind turned inside out.

  He slid his hands under me, placing his arms under my back and clutching his hands over my shoulders, holding me firmly in place. His lips brushed over mine in a soft kiss.

  I felt my muscles relax as his soft kisses brought me out of the intensity of the previous minutes. His warm lips caressed mine with tenderness and sensuality.

  Slowly he began moving in and out of me, with a more gentle passion this time.

  “Did I hurt you?” he whispered.

  “It was a bit forceful, but I’m okay.” I kissed his shoulder as he hovered over me.

  John pushed as far in as my body would allow, causing me to whimper.

  He groaned as he pulsed inside me. He was done.

  “I’m sorry,” he gasped. He fought for air and gasped again. “I’m sorry.”

  I kissed his forehead. “It’s okay.” My disappointment took a backseat to my confusion.

  He rolled off of me, laying on his back. “I haven’t been that worked up in a long time.”

  My heart fluttered. I hadn’t the foggiest of ideas as to what had him that aroused, but knowing that he couldn’t hold back because he was devouring me did something special for me. It wasn’t just the sex that did him in, it was some inner need I had fulfilled.

  A frown spread across his face. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  “John, I’m fine. I just wasn’t ready for you, so it was a bit much at first. Really, you have nothing to feel bad about.”

  He rolled on his side and looked me in the eye. “You’re sure?”

  I smiled. “Yes. I’m sure.” I kissed his nose and leapt from the bed. “Now, while I appreciate all that you’ve done, I really need to have that dessert you promised. It’s not polite to tease a woman with dessert, you know.”

  John snickered. “How do you know that I actually have dessert?”

  Sliding my feet back in the silly slippers he’d given me, I did my best to keep a straight face.

  “Because you have thought of everything, every detail. So I know there is something sweet and probably even coffee waiting for me somewhere.” I put my hand on my hip, trying to be sassy. “So get that fine ass up out of that bed and give me my dessert!”

  John laughed before pulling his pants up and crawling out of bed. He grabbed my hand, kissed me on the forehead then led me to a d
ecent-sized dining room where plates already rested along with coffee cups and a carafe filled with coffee.

  “I knew it!”

  John snickered before pulling a chair out for me. “That’s what I get for being romantic. Teasing?”

  “Come on, I thought you liked my playful side?” I pouted.

  John shook his head. “For you, my dear, I have French silk pie and French roast coffee. I figured one had to go with the other.”

  “Close,” I teased.

  Chapter 6

  The week of the product launch for the beauty line was a roaring success. The product flew off the shelves and sales for my client soared beyond her initial expectations.

  I was proud but exhausted. It was Friday and Olivia wanted to go have a drink to celebrate our success. I, however, wanted to soak in John’s hot tub and act like a bum.

  “Come on, you’re not a geriatric. Just one drink?” Olivia whined.

  “Fine, just one. I’m really exhausted. Let me send a text to John so he doesn’t worry.” I fought not to show the frustration on my face as I sent the text. I knew he wouldn’t exactly worry, but I had been so caught up in work, he was being neglected.

  After sending him a message, I grabbed my purse and followed Olivia to the martini bar. Sipping at my drink, I tried to listen to her as she talked about her new girlfriend and settling down. I smiled and nodded as I tried to ignore the pain in my neck and shoulders.

  Thoughts of the hot tub consumed me, easing into the hot bubbling water and soothing away my stress.

  “Well, my drink is gone and so am I. Be careful going home.” I scooted my stool back.

  “Come on, just one more,” she begged.

  I’m going to smack her. I want to go home! “Liv, I’m exhausted. I don’t want to be a stick in the mud, but I really just want to go home.”

  “Come on, Candy. We’ve only been here fifteen minutes. Just relax and have another drink. You took a cab today anyway, so you’ll be fine. It’s Friday night and you’re acting like an old retired hag.” She waved the bartender over.