by Colet Abedi
I roll off her and wrap my arms around her, reveling in the feeling of her naked skin against mine. I’m spinning because I don’t understand this feeling at all.
“Wow,” she whispers with a smile against my chest before tilting her head back to look at me. “That was pretty unreal.”
I’m sure my smile is filled with a great deal of arrogance and satisfaction. “There’s more to come.”
She looks intrigued and completely turned on. “I have no doubt.”
She gives me a shy smile, and my heart pounds hard. Some type of energy I’m completely unfamiliar with permeates my body, my fucking soul, and I’m suddenly deathly afraid. Like fucking frightened. Kerri must see it because she makes a funny face at me.
“You’ve got that look again,” she says in an almost accusatory way.
“What’s that?”
She makes the face again.
I have to laugh. “Are you making fun of me?”
“I wouldn’t dare.” Her voice is innocent.
“Liar.”
She shrugs mischievously, and I can’t help but pull her even tighter against my body.
“So what gives with the look? It’s kind of washed over your face at the most random times today.” She moves her body so she’s sprawled out over my chest, chin on her folded hands as she studies my face.
I shake my head. “You’re impertinent.”
“I’ve been called worse.” She doesn’t seem to mind.
My arms encircle her. “By who?”
I won’t have anyone making her feel less than—and if I need to take care of something or someone, I will. The animal who assaulted her is first on my list. And the guys I’ve put on the case to find his name have narrowed the list tremendously.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” She rolls her eyes, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside me. “My roommate Tony happens to be the king of Kerri insults. And I have to admit, some are actually quite good and maybe even right on the nose.”
I laugh and pull her up in my arms, burying my face in her neck as I inhale her intoxicating scent.
“You’re perfect.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
Chapter Thirteen
Kerri
He’s wrong.
Ian is the one who’s perfect. What just happened between us was earth shattering, freaking life changing for me. It was almost too good to be true. Except it wasn’t. It was real. And it happened—to me. I want to express all of this to him, but I don’t want to scare him any more than he already is.
And I know he’s scared.
I know what those looks that keep coming over his face are about. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure it out. He doesn’t know what to think or how to feel about me. This thing between us is as new to him as it is to me and it’s got him petrified. And I have to be honest, knowing he’s in the same boat as I am gives me great satisfaction.
I’m sprawled out over his delicious, hard-as-a-rock body and am loving every second of it. I can’t wait for it to be my turn—when I’ll get to explore and taste every part of him.
I place my chin on my hands and smile at Ian’s handsome face in anticipation. “You’re sweet.”
“That’s not an adjective I’ve ever been called before.” He sounds and looks indignant from my compliment.
I laugh. “What’s wrong with being sweet?”
“It sounds weak.”
“It’s not. You should take it as a compliment.”
“Maybe.”
But I don’t think he’s going to. He cocks his head and studies me. My fingers skim over his chest. They seem to have a mind of their own and move down his unbelievable abs. He just feels too good.
Ian finally grabs hold of my hand and stills its movement. “Behave.”
“I don’t want to,” I admit with a wide smile.
My stomach takes that second to make a loud and embarrassing entrance. It grumbles so impolitely, I think my toes are even blushing.
He lifts an amused brow. “Hungry?”
“What gave it away?” I say with as much dignity as possible.
He laughs before smacking my ass. “I can call my house manager and have her bring us food, whatever you like,” Ian suggests with a sexy smile. “That way neither of us has to move an inch and we can try other ways to occupy our time.”
Holy. Shit. My insides clench at the thought. I want him right now.
Again. How is that even possible? Blood rushes through my veins in excitement. God, he’s hot as hell.
I do want Ian and me to explore all the other ways we can occupy our time—because I know there are so many other ways—but I also realize I need a second. Maybe to take it all in. And cooking something for us, while he’s safely tucked away in bed, will let me have my moment alone.
“Or I can surprise you with my mad culinary skills.” I give him a broad smile.
“Another quesadilla?” He smirks. I guess he wasn’t that impressed.
“We didn’t even get to eat the ones I made,” I remind him. “And you seemed to gush about them when I was cooking. What changed your tune?”
“I was trying to get in your pants.” He shrugs unapologetically. “If you had put toast in front of me, I’d have told you it was the best toast I’d ever had.”
He flashes me that sexy boyish grin of his and my heart freaking melts. I’d swoon if I could. How can I be mad at that?
“And I was hungry for something else.” His eyes turn dark with desire. “I still am.”
My breath hitches. I feel the telltale signs of that uncontrollable desire growing throughout my body. But I just…
Fuck it.
Just one more time.
****
Three more times later and I’m finally downstairs, alone with my damn thoughts. I have yet to see if it’s a good thing or not. Being alone with an active mind that enjoys running down rabbit holes isn’t always a good idea.
I threw on one of the tiny sundresses I found in the closet even though Trouble—that’s who he is in bed (who am I kidding, he’s probably the same in the way he handles the rest of his life as well)—asked me to cook in the nude while he watched. And after, he wanted me to hand-feed him while he’s allowed to touch any part of my body he desires and I’m only allowed to feed him unless otherwise directed.
Okay, I’m not going to lie, the idea definitely has some merit, and who knows, I might—okay, I will—do it for him one day, but right now, I know I need to be alone.
Since I’m assuming the house manager knows what Ian does and does not like, I go through the fridge and pull out the fish, which is carefully packaged in paper. There’s shrimp, halibut, and salmon.
They happen to be all my favorites.
And I find filet mignon. The only beef I’ll eat.
Huh.
I open the fridge and take my time looking around. The veggies. The fruit. The cheese. Once I really see everything—now that I’m not nervous as hell that Ian is behind me and watching—I realize the entire fridge and even the pantry is packed with all of my favorite things. Down to the freaking salt and vinegar chips on the counter.
And…I peer into the pink box in the fridge.
Ohmyfreakinggod. A small red velvet cake from a local bakery. With thick frosting.
My favorite. Favorite.
Even though I know I should wonder how and why he knows all of this and it should maybe weird me out, it doesn’t.
At all.
Instead my body gets hot with desire again. And not only that, I’m kind of overcome with some serious emotion coming at me from every direction. My eyes are actually brimming with tears because…this gesture is so romantic. And sweet. Thoughtful. And caring. Now I really know that after everything I told him, he wanted this weekend to be something special for me.
Ian brought me to paradise.
In every way.
God, even the clothes he purchased for me are kind of my style. A bit more conservativ
e than what I usually go for, but I always push the envelope with what I wear because I’ve wanted to be outrageous and stand out. Clearly, I’ve been compensating for something I’m missing.
Maybe I was even objectifying myself, since I was so terrified to give my body sexually to any man, afraid that no one would ever make me feel again. So I took small pleasures from men liking what they saw and the satisfaction that gave me. It makes total sense. I can’t wait to share this epiphany with my shrink. She’ll be thrilled.
Who am I kidding? I can’t wait to tell her that I finally feel again. That I’ve met a man…
I sigh. How can I describe Ian “Trouble” Sutherland? What can I tell her? I think of the obvious stuff…
I know he’s in the tech business because he told me while we were upstairs—not specifically what he does, but mentioned the sector he was in. Before I could push the matter, he seduced me again, and a conversation about his business was the last thing on my mind. So I’ll have to ask again later, over dinner.
I know he’s thirty-six, which gives us a twelve-year age gap. And I really like that, considering I never really gelled with the guys closer to my age.
What else could I tell her about Ian?
His best friend is a famous basketball player. That’s kind of cool. Not that my shrink will care. She’ll want to know something with more depth…
He lost his parents when he was a child. And he had a sister. Her name was Tanya. I know she’s dead.
The minute I think it, goose bumps run up my arms. I rub them and look up to heaven, sending a quick prayer to Tanya and his parents. I shake the sad thoughts away and focus on the task at hand.
Food. Dinner. Impress Ian.
I look over my options and make my decision. I’ll make us citrus marinated halibut and some white rice and guacamole. We’ll have shrimp cocktail for appetizers. I happen to glance at the wine cellar at that exact moment, and I can’t help but smile. I didn’t realize how huge it is. And it’s completely filled. Nice.
I guess we’ll be having a few bottles of wine as well.
I turn on music my iPhone and settle into my favorite sixties selection. Neil Young’s “Old Man” echoes in the kitchen.
God, I love his voice.
I move about the space, grabbing my ingredients and getting lost in the process. After a while, my mind circles back to Ian. I picture him lying in bed, all big and handsome, naked and gorgeous. And hard. God, his cock is as beautiful as the rest of him. My body heats up with longing, and an image of those strong hands skimming over my breasts comes right to mind. Watching him touch me was erotic and made me lose control.
Ian wanted me—made me watch him give me pleasure. It was so freaking hot, I could barely catch my breath. I thought I’d died and gone to sex heaven.
He knows how much I like to watch. How much it turns me on.
Ian knows me so well.
And I know so little about him. I don’t know what his favorite foods are—like he knows mine. I plan on finding out. But first, I'll make us food and hope it turns out as amazing as I think it will. I sound arrogant, but I’m good at cooking and I genuinely love it.
Time goes by pretty quickly and I’m done faster than I hoped. I tasted everything but the fish and I must say, I’m happy with my work. I hope Ian is too.
“Harvest Moon” by Neil Young plays, and I get that feeling you get when your favorite song comes on—that one that makes you feel so nostalgic. I smile and close my eyes. This is one of the best songs. I can’t help but sway to the music. When I turn around, Ian is standing before me in his swim trunks. His hair is mussed from all the sex we’ve had, and his eyes glow with ownership as they rake over me. He looks as though he’s been enjoying the view. His smile is soft and tender, and my breath catches.
“Dance with me?” He holds out his hand.
Mine slides into his, and his arm wraps around my waist as he pulls me close to his hard body. I move my arms up around his neck and place my cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, as we sway to the music.
“I was getting worried,” he whispers.
“I was just about to bring the food up, but then ‘Harvest Moon’ came on.” I sigh against his skin and give him a quick kiss. “And you know the rest.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I can’t say that I blame you. I happen to love this song too.”
I pull him even closer as we move to the haunting ballad. If I could trap us in this moment on a loop for just a little while longer, I would. It’s one of those times that everything around you stops and you’re fulfilled in every way.
It’s everything.
When the song ends, we hold on to each other a little longer. I reluctantly move away from him, but only because I want to plate the food.
“Dinner is ready.” I give him shy smile. “I hope you like it.”
“It smells delicious and I’m sure I’ll love it.” Ian looks around the house. “Where do you want to eat?”
I glance around and shrug. “I was going to have us eat in your room.”
“Since the rest of the house is too cold and frosty?” He cocks a brow.
“Possibly.”
“Truly?”
“Yes.” I give him an innocent shrug. “One hundred percent.”
I’m happy he laughs. He’s lightening up. “So what can I help with?”
“You can bring the bottles, glasses, and the water.”
“My pleasure, beautiful.”
I can’t stop my smile. I bet it’s a goofy-looking one too.
A while later, half a plate and one and half bottles of wine in, Ian and I are sprawled across each other, talking about my job as an intern at the studio. Ian, like most of my family, seems completely baffled as to why I’d ever want this job.
“If you’re not one hundred percent sure about what you want to do in the business, why did you jump right into the shittiest job?” He shakes his head in dismay. He seems disappointed.
“Well, I know I want to be in the business.” I take another sip of the delicious white wine. It tastes like butter. “And this is basically the rite of passage to almost any job in the industry.”
Ian studies my face before his eyes narrow suspiciously. “Tell me you don’t want to be an actress.”
The longer I take to answer, the more annoyed he seems to get.
“I don’t want to be an actress,” I finally say and laugh at his look of relief.
“Director?” He’s back to looking annoyed again.
“What’s wrong with directors?” I shake my head at him in disbelief.
“Directors hang out with entitled, arrogant actors all the time,” he says pointedly.
My mouth drops open. “Good lord, are you, like, caveman possessive?” I’m more than a little suspicious.
“What if I am?” His voice is quiet.
I can’t read his face. I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. Something tells me he is, but still, I can’t say definitively, so I choose my words carefully. “Depends on how much of caveman you can be.”
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see as the circumstances comes up.” He gives me a sexy smile. He must be pleased by my answer. “Or if they come up.”
“Oh, from the sound of things, I’m thinking they will definitely come up.” I nod emphatically.
Ian doesn’t seem bothered by this assumption. We share a smile for a long minute, and I think we both realize at the exact same moment that this thing between us is starting to sound like a relationship.
I break his gaze, nervous and suddenly insecure—a feeling I loathe and generally avoid. Until Trouble walked into my life…
“The food is really delicious, you know. I can’t believe you made all of this.” Ian finally breaks the awkward silence.
This is one of many compliments he’s given me throughout the night as he’s eaten. I don’t think he’s just being polite—and he’s definitely not trying to get in my pants because that ship has sailed�
�so I think he’s seriously impressed.
Ian picks up his fork and takes another bite of the rice. “Thank you for cooking. Everything is delicious.”
“You’re very welcome,” I reply, then grab a piece of baguette. Ian brought up a baguette, as well as olive oil and vinegar, and we’ve almost eaten the whole thing. “Again. I’m glad you enjoyed everything so much. Inflates my ego.”
I smile flippantly, hoping to change the levity of the moment.
“Ego seems solid to me,” Ian returns, his eyes flicking over my body.
“Every ego needs to be stroked.” I meet his gaze. “Including yours.”
“I prefer if you stroke other, more important things.” His eyes take on that familiar glow, the one I’m already addicted to. I wonder if I’ll have to talk to my shrink about that.
“I’ll think about it.” I pick up my glass of wine, take another long sip, and try to get a handle on my racing heart. “I want to talk about you now.”
I change the subject and bring it back to him. “So tell me what you do in the tech world?”
“I created the driving app, MyLz.”
My eyes widen in shock. His company was recently purchased for well over a billion dollars—it was the talk of the town for a week. In all the things I’d read or heard, I never saw Ian’s picture anywhere—and it’s not one I’d forget. Funny, the more I think about it, as much as I heard about the other tech giants, knew them by name and face…Ian’s never came up. And that’s what a billion-dollar sale makes him—a tech giant.
“You keep a low profile,” I say.
“I value my privacy and like to come and go at my own discretion.” His voice is serious. “The last thing I want or need is fame.”
I like him even more. That’s a side of Hollywood I really don’t care for—the need to be famous at all costs. I’ve seen it make a lot of people do some ugly things to themselves and others. It’s just not something I get.
“Okay, so what are you up to now?” I’m more than curious.
“I invested in some start-ups,” he says. “An online movie-making app with some tech I think is the future.”
“Can you tell me more?”
