A bitter laugh makes its way up my throat. “I’m anything but an expert. All I’m saying is don’t overthink it. Just enjoy it. Live a little.”
She wipes her eyes with another tissue, lobbing it over the bed and onto the Kleenex mound. “Speaking of fun, how was your day?”
I can’t help the grin that turns up my lips. “It was great. We had a good time. Matt took me for a ride on his motorcycle and then cooked for me. He’s…a nice guy.”
“What kind of a ride?” she says, her voice laced with sexual undertones.
I smack her in the arm and she whines, then rubs it. “No, a fully clothed ride, so get your mind out of the gutter.” I hesitate, before adding, “But there’s something about him that tugs at me just a little bit and I can’t put my finger on it.” I sigh, recalling the almost kiss, my skin still warm from his lips. “He almost kissed me and I find myself wishing he had.”
“Well, sweetie, if you ask me, you need to be kissed, and you need to be fu—”
I put my hand over her mouth, thankfully muffling her next words. “Don’t even say it. I’m removing my hand now and I don’t want to hear one word.”
“Fucked.” She clutches her belly as laughter spills from her mouth.
At least she’s not crying anymore.
I wake up with images filtering through my brain like a movie reel on repeat: Fran on my motorcycle, Fran in her wet tank top, Fran with her arms wrapped around me, Fran and her full lips inches from my mouth. Fuck. My whole body is blanketed in sweat and my dick is hard, tenting the sheet that’s covering my body. I scrub my hands over my face. What the fuck am I doing?
I let out a frustrated moan before dragging my legs over the edge of the bed and managing to get up, surprisingly without my dick weighing me down. Jesus. I walk briskly into the bathroom, determined to get rid of the crazy thoughts consuming me. Turning the shower on and stepping in, I brace one hand against the tile wall, trying to get my breathing under control, letting the water drip down my hair, my back, my thighs…but she’s everywhere and I can’t get away from her if I tried. My thoughts jump to her breasts. I envision them, perfectly round and supple as I run my tongue over her nipples, flicking and teasing them until they become tight little buds. My hand goes to my cock, so hard it’s almost painful, and I begin to stroke myself slowly. I can practically smell the jasmine on her skin, see my fingers running down her spine to the soft curve of her ass, and hear her moan. I close my eyes and imagine reaching around to part her lips, sliding a finger inside, finding her soaked, then dropping to my knees because I desperately want a taste of her. The muscles in my jaw go slack and I start to groan with need while my hand moves faster as I visualize my face between her thighs, the sweet scent of her arousal intoxicating me as I suck on her clit and she clutches at my hair, pulling me closer, wanting me deeper. My breathing becomes ragged, my hips jutting forward, and as I picture my tongue licking her swollen pussy, my orgasm rips through me and I growl Fran’s name.
After standing under a hot stream of water for another few minutes and letting my breathing even out, I dry off so I can quickly dress, feeling somewhat better. It’s not the real thing, but it’ll have to do for now. I pull a pair of black pants down from the hanger and decide on a green dress shirt. The color instantly reminds me of Fran’s eyes and I smile, thinking about the glow she had just before I sprayed her. That was fun. But that leads me to thinking about her hardened nipples poking through the sexy little top she had on, and that’s where I have to stop. I can’t walk around with another hard-on all day.
I reluctantly shake off the thought and finish getting dressed, and while strapping my watch around my wrist, I notice it’s 7:45 a.m. I’m just about to give Caleb a ring in his room when I hear his voice through the door. When I open it, I find him leaning against the frame, his jacket over his shoulder, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Hey, man,” he says, still wearing the same smile.
“Hey, come on in, and what’s with the face? Should I take it to mean you had a good day yesterday?”
He lays his jacket on the couch and takes a seat next to it. “You can take it to mean I had a great day, that Peyton is like a sex goddess.”
I chuckle at Caleb’s unique way with words. “Sex goddess, huh?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know what happened. Things were going really well, yet afterwards, she got all weird and took off. I tried to talk to her, but she said she had to go.”
“Actually, come to think of it, she called Fran saying she was upset, so we came back so Fran could check on her.” I finish putting on my shoes and take out my briefcase to sort through some notes.
“Maybe I was too hot to handle,” Caleb says with a laugh that’s quickly followed by a frown. “I don’t know, we were having a good time. I’ll ask her again when I see her today. So what happened with you?”
“Just another day in the life,” I say nonchalantly. “First I got stuck in the elevator with a gorgeous woman, and then we went for a motorcycle ride and I cooked her dinner.”
“Wait, back up,” Caleb orders, a stunned look in his pale blue eyes. “You cooked? No Chinese takeout? And when was the last time you even rode that motorcycle I’ve been begging you to sell to me?”
I drop a stack of papers on the bed that suddenly don’t seem all that important, and take a seat on the couch. “There’s something about her Caleb. She makes me want to step outside myself. It’s like…I don’t know…like she’s one big dare to who I am. And you know how I respond to dares.”
“Well, she’s definitely fiery,” Caleb agrees, before standing up and sliding on his suit jacket. “It’s good for you. You need to break out, stop alphabetizing all your shit.” He chuckles and I sneer at him. “Before I forget, do you want to drive over to my parents’ after the conference for a little bit? My mom called me last night and she’s ready to divorce my dad. He’s exceptionally crabby still and she’s having a hard time. She hinted at having her sons over.”
I love the fact that Caleb’s mom refers to me as her son because for years I’ve considered her a second mother. No one can ever replace mine, but Mrs. Brody definitely comes close. The amount of times she’s been there to hold my hand and offer a hug or advice, starting when I was a gawky sixteen-year old until now, means that I owe her my life. This is the least I can do for her.
“Absolutely,” I reply, “and why don’t we stop and pick up one of those apple pies your dad likes from that bake shop over on Beverly Boulevard, maybe that’ll put him in better spirits.”
“That sounds good. Thanks.” Caleb makes a beeline for the door. “Let’s get out of here. I want to seek out my sex goddess.”
And I want to go find my little spark.
The Los Angeles sun glows brightly through the floor-to-ceiling windows in my room and I don’t want to open my eyes. I know it’s time to get up even though my alarm hasn’t gone off yet, but my dream about Matt was too good and I don’t want it to end. I lift his t-shirt to my nose and inhale, still smelling his fresh scent. My fingers go to my lips, recalling the way he kissed me…in my head. I let out a frustrated sigh and stretch my tired muscles. I’d give anything to stay in bed just a little bit longer and daydream about Matt.
I’m showered, dressed, and ready to head down to breakfast in thirty-five minutes, which is a record for me. I’ll admit to spending a little more time in front of the mirror than usual. A little extra lip gloss, some eyeliner to make my eyes pop, and a tad more color on my cheeks. I towel-dried my hair, too, to give it a little wave. I’m leaving it down today, especially since Matt was running his fingers through it in my dream. I look at my reflection and laugh. I’m being ridiculous but even I can’t deny that ridiculous feels good.
I throw on a thin strand of pearls, grab my portfolio, and stroll out to the elevators. I stop halfway down the hall, deciding to take the stairs, but then realize that would be twenty-two flights and while I’m in shape, it would be killer in heels. Instead, I ride the
elevator down to the first floor and hold my breath the entire way, releasing it only once I’ve stepped off.
The banquet hall is set up in the traditional conference style with long, rectangular tables covered in white tablecloths. There are ten rows that seat about fifteen people to a table and carafes of water situated in the center located at every other seat. To the left of the tables is a breakfast area, complete with assorted foods: bagels, fruit, croissants, danishes, and a variety of juices.
My stomach is making wild noises and begging to be fed, so I snatch a plate and start piling food onto it. There’s no way I’ll get through the morning without fortification. Only a few people have arrived thus far, allowing me to have my choice of seats, and I pick one in the middle of the room.
Peyton wanders in a few minutes later and I wave her over in between bites of pastry. “Hey, you got down here early,” she says, taking off her suit jacket and hanging it on the chair.
I swallow a chunk of danish and chase it with some orange juice. “I woke up so I figured I’d get an early start.” It sounds good even though I know I’m completely transparent.
She takes a seat next to me, a slow smile building on her lips. “Is that so?”
“Yup,” I reply, emphasizing the P while stuffing part of another danish in my mouth.
“Whatever you say,” she mumbles, before getting up to grab a plate of food.
I look around the room every few minutes, more like seconds, wondering where Matt is. I hope he didn’t get stuck in another elevator. That would really suck. I continue to sneak glances at the door until Peyton returns.
“Who are you looking for, Fran?” she asks, setting her food on the table.
I fuss with the strand of pearls around my neck. “No one.”
“Well.” She smiles, buttering her bagel and edging closer to me. “No one isn’t here yet, and neither is Caleb.”
The right side of my mouth slants up and I go back to shoveling food in while waiting patiently for the conference to start, and not so patiently for Matt to arrive.
They start promptly at nine and there are a couple of speakers from design and architectural firms in London and Chicago communicating about design as inspiration. It’s only mildly interesting and I’m having a hard time focusing anyway, the strangest feeling coming over me, my back suddenly warm, my body on hyper alert. I casually scratch my shoulder with my chin and look back to find Matt wearing a dimpled smile and holding an index card in his hand with the words “Good morning sunshine” in bold, black letters. I grin, my dimple making a grand appearance.
Ripping off a piece of paper from the pad sitting in front of me, I scrawl, “Good morning tight-ass” in blue pen. I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but it was fun when I did it in middle school, so what the hell. “Hey, Peyton, where’s the bathroom?” I ask in a whisper.
“It’s outside and down the hall to the right.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.”
I stand up and walk to the back of the room, slinging the note onto Matt’s lap as I pass by him. The sound of his chuckling puts a smile on my face. When I reach the hallway, I let out several quick breaths. Did I really just do that? Yes, I did, and I loved every minute of it.
Since I’m out here, I decide I better make a trip to the bathroom. Once inside, I stop at the sink and brace my hands on the counter, staring at the person looking back at me from the mirror, the one I don’t recognize right now. The one who is being spontaneous. The one who knows that in ten days she’ll be back in New York and none of this will matter. I like this girl. I told myself I’d have fun while I was here and that’s what I fully intend to do.
I finish in the bathroom and open the door to find Matt leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, a grin sitting upon his lips.
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself, sunshine.”
I make an attempt at words but my smile gets in the way and again I’m back in middle school. Looking down at the red swirls in the carpet, I try to compose myself and form a sentence. “What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for you,” he replies, perusing me intently from my green pencil skirt and cream blouse, to the sliver of skin underneath my pearls. His eyes are all over my body dousing me with heat, and my belly is flip-flopping in several different directions.
He comes forward, placing his palm against the wall on one side of my head and hovering there. “How’d you sleep?”
“Well,” I reply, the high-pitch in my voice deceiving me when his minty breath hits my cheek, his gaze focused on my lips. “You?”
“Like a rock,” he says, licking his lips and inciting a riot within my chest, my heart unable to handle his proximity.
“We should get back,” I say casually, my voice cracking of its own volition and betraying me again.
“Yes, we should.” He doesn’t say anything else, but his hand brushes my waist and I close my eyes, savoring the feel of that fleeting touch. I need more of it.
We go back to our seats without another word and now all I can think about are Matt’s lips, well, his tongue, too. The pornographic images my mind is conjuring up are making it very difficult to sit through the rest of the conference. I’m squirming and fidgeting in my seat, my leg doing a continuous bounce under the table.
“What’s the matter with you?” Peyton asks, pausing from the elaborate doodles she’s drawing on her note pad. She’s obviously as enthralled as I am. “It’s like you’ve overdosed on caffeine.”
“Nothing,” I tell her in a whisper, “I’m just bored.”
The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly, the drip of molasses a marathon in comparison. They apparently don’t want us leaving the room since lunch is brought in, so we’re stuck here until late afternoon, which won’t come soon enough for me.
By the time four o’clock rolls around, I’m chomping at the bit to get up, my ass probably spreading several inches just from sitting so much. I spin around to search for Matt, only to discover he’s already left, and I’m hit with a stab of disappointment that I quickly shake off.
“What do you want to do now?” Peyton asks, gathering her notes and stuffing them into her leather briefcase.
“I don’t know. Do you want to hit up the spa, maybe get a massage?”
She lets out a wide yawn, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’d love a nap, but that should relax me enough to have one after.”
“Cool. Let’s go change and drop our stuff off in our rooms first,” I say, still looking around in hopes of spotting Matt.
We’re on our way upstairs when my phone buzzes to signal an incoming text. I look at the screen and my face instantly brightens. It’s from Matt.
Do you have plans tonight? Want to meet up at the bar later?
I reply immediately.
Let me check my busy schedule.
Then I make him wait.
“Who is it?” Peyton asks, pressing the call button on the elevator.
“It’s Matt. He wants to know if I have plans tonight and if I want to meet up at the bar.” I giggle, tapping my fingers on the screen. “I’m making him sweat.”
“Tell him, hell yes, and make sure to bring Caleb,” she says, piling her hair on top of her head in a bun.
My phone buzzes again.
Tick Tock. I’m waiting, sunshine.
I type back a response.
Looks like my schedule is clear.
Matt responds right back.
Good. Caleb and I are stopping to visit his dad for a while. I’ll text you when we get back. Hope things worked out okay with Peyton. Caleb was wondering what was up with her.
That was thoughtful.
Sounds good. Hope Caleb’s dad is feeling better.
I close the screen and wait for Peyton to attack, which takes her all of about two seconds.
“So?”
I toss the phone back in my purse and dig for some gum. “They’re on their way to visit Caleb’s dad. He said he’d
text when they got back. He also mentioned that Caleb wondered what was up with you.”
“Shit,” she utters, biting the inside of her lip.
“Peyton,” I coax as we get in the elevator, “you need to either talk to Caleb about what you’re feeling or let it go and have fun like I’m doing. In ten days I’ll be headed back to New York but I’m going to make the most of it while I’m here.”
Peyton’s eyebrows pull in, a crinkle forming between them. “What do you mean ten days? We go back in four.”
“No, I’m taking an extended vacation,” I tell her, the thought of lounging in bed for an entire week very appealing.
“How come I didn’t know that and how’d you manage it?” she asks, her voice falling into a pit of frustration.
“Peyton, I haven’t taken any time off for a while,” I reply, looking past her at my reflection in the mirror. We exit the elevator once it reaches our floor and head to my room. “I have a lot of days accrued so I decided to take some now.” I insert the keycard but glance back at her. “Why don’t you see if you can take extra time off, too? Maybe the VP’s in a good mood this week.”
She toes off her shoes and jumps on the bed while I immediately head for the closet, my focus solely on choosing the right outfit for tonight. “Hey, what’s this?” she asks in a slow drawl. “A new addition to your wardrobe? It looks a little big.”
I turn around to find her holding up Matt’s t-shirt, a big, fat grin on her face. “That’s Matt’s.”
“Hmmm…I gathered as much. The question is, what’s it doing here? Something you want to share?”
I shake my head and snatch it out of her hands, throwing it in one of the drawers. “No. I got wet so he loaned it to me when I was at his place.”
“Wet, huh?” She smirks, sprawling her lean body out on the bed.
“Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m sorry to say it was nothing like that. It was all pretty innocent.” I sigh, realizing I wished it was anything but, the memory of sliding down Matt’s body still fresh in my mind.
Scarred Beautiful Page 11
