My heart feels like it wants to climb up my throat. I’m so shocked and happy I can’t find any words. I stutter out a meek, “Y-y-yes?”
“Damn. This talking about how you feel shit is hard. How do you ladies do it?”
I laugh, some of the tension easing out of me. No matter how awkward I’m feeling, this is Tony. The man who strung himself up with chains for me to take pictures. I know him. He’s not Jimmy, he’s not Rick. He’s my Tony.
“We muddle through, pretending we know what we’re talking about most of the time,” I say.
“Ah, so that’s the trick.”
I swish my toes in the hot water, disrupting bubbles. “Well, we do talk to each other more than guys do, normally. But it’s not like I hang out with enough men to really do a comparison.”
“Uh-huh.”
I circle him back, hoping he will reveal whatever it was he was about to say. “You were about to say something before. Started with an and.”
“And what?”
“Uh…” I backpedal, the courage draining right out of me. “Never mind.”
“You caught that, huh? And now you want me to say what I was trying to get out before.”
“Only if you want to.”
“Jesus,” I picture him running a hand through his hair as he often does when frustrated. “Okay, this is hard.” He pauses. “I’m kind of scared.”
My skin tightens. Electric tingles make the hair on my arm stand on end. “Scared of what?”
“Of losing you over this whole mess with Portia. I… I don’t know what to do. And I know I’ve been an ass.”
“Oh, Tony.” I overcome my own fear to reassure him. “I’m falling for you, too. And I know exactly what you mean about being scared.”
“So what do we do?”
“I’m thinking we’ll need to talk out this whole baby situation face to face, rather than on the phone.” I hesitate once more, then boldly say what’s on my mind. “But really, the big deal stuff will be on your end.”
“Mine?”
“You need to figure out what you want regarding this child, and you need to do that on your own. It’s not something I can do for you.”
“My brother Vinnie already read me the riot act. It’s a lot to come to terms with.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Will you stay with me throughout it all?”
I consider his question carefully. I can’t say yes without knowing what he plans to do. “That depends on you and how you decide to handle it. Attitude is everything.”
“Fair enough. Let’s talk more tomorrow night, okay?”
“Okay.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then Tony says, “How was your day?”
“Not bad. Still getting the lay of the land at work.”
“Getting along well with Tammy? How’s she working out?”
I think about her dating Jimmy and push the thoughts away. She’s an adult. She can make up her own mind. That will become my new mantra until it sticks. “Great so far. If I need someone permanent, she’s a good fit.”
We’re quiet again and I wonder if I should make an excuse and get off the phone. But a part of me refuses, enjoying the time talking to him even if nothing important is said.
“What did you do today?” I ask.
“Worked on the dry wall in my new office. It’s coming along nicely.”
“Can’t wait to see it.” And interestingly enough, I mean every word. I love seeing the progress he makes each day. Much more tangible than working with spreadsheets and emails, like me.
“Maybe we can christen the new room with another indoor picnic,” he says, a hint of naughty in his voice.
“I like the sound of that.”
“I like the sound of your voice.”
“You do?” I lower my voice, aiming for sexy. “And I wasn’t even trying.”
“Oh… but you sound like you are now.”
“Maybe.” The warm water feels good on my skin. And teasing him a little has helped me to relax.
“So… are you still in the tub?”
“Yes.”
“Are there bubbles?”
I laugh. “Yes, there are.”
A soft groan of appreciation spills from him. “That sounds really… nice…”
I hear the rasp of a zipper. “Did you just unzip your fly?”
“Maybe.”
And just like that, heat floods my middle, warming it more than the hot water already has. “You’re a naughty boy, aren’t you?”
“That depends. Will my being naughty get me time with the ping pong paddle again? Because if the answer is yes, then I’m definitely being naughty.”
“Mmmm… it just might.” Feeling bold and daring I ask, “What are you wearing and where are you?”
“I’m sitting up on my bed, wearing jeans and a tee shirt.”
“Nice.” My free hand drifts under the water, where I lightly stroke the top of my mound, testing if I’m really game to push this little scenario to the hilt. My eyes drift closed as I listen to his increased breathing. Arousal brews inside, indicating that yes, I sure as hell can be the type of girl who engages in phone sex. I stifle a low moan, unwilling to reveal myself yet.
“What are you doing in the tub?”
“Just soaking. Naked.”
He chuckles, low and sexy. “How else would you be in the tub?”
I slip my fingers down to tease my outer folds. “Touché.” I strengthen my tone, knowing he likes it when I take control. “Take out your cock.”
“Damn. You’re serious, huh?”
“Do it,” I command.
“Yes, ma’am.” His breathing changes and I hear a rustle of clothing.
“Are you stroking it?” I ask as my fingers delve deeper, slipping down to my opening.
“Yes.”
“Is it growing nice and hard in your hand?”
“Oh God.” His breath pushes out. “It certainly is.”
I pump a slim finger inside, noting the slick feel not attributed to water. “Tell me what you like. Tell me what you think is sexy.”
His voice comes across the phone low and intense. “I love seeing you in high heels. I picture bending you over whenever you’re wearing them, and taking you hard and fast.”
The heel of my hand presses against my clit, rubbing slow and hard as I thrust a second finger into my depths. My voice sounds low and breathy, quite sexy in the acoustics of the steamy bathroom. “Ohh… that sounds too good to resist. It’s going to be the first thing I think of now when I wear heels around you.”
“I love fisting that long hair of yours in my hand and holding on too tight. It’s like I’m claiming you while I’m fucking you.”
Tony doesn’t normally swear much, but in this moment, it drives me to the brink, imagining he’s right there with me.
Unable to hold off any longer, I remove my fingers and focus on my tiny clit. “God, that’s sexy as hell. I’m going to come soon, Tony.”
“Are you? Are you touching yourself under all those bubbles, Heather?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Are you sliding those slim fingers back and forth over that little wet clit, teasing it while you think of me pulling your hair and fucking you hard?”
I moan into the phone. “Oh, yes. That’s right.”
His own breathing becomes rough, caressing my ear through the cell phone. “I’m stroking my cock for you. Thinking about those thigh-high black boots with the long silver zipper down the back. You looked so hot in those.”
“I love watching you come, Heather. The little smile on your face. The crash of pleasure over your features. The sounds you make when you’re lost in the moment.”
I don’t respond, too caught up in playing with my clit. I’m right there. Ready to fly over the edge.
“You know what I love the most?” he asks, his voice hoarse with desire. “I love that I’m the one who made you feel that way.”
I groan again, circling my hi
ps under the bubbles, racing toward my finish.
“Come for me, baby. I want to hear you.”
My orgasm swells inside, drawing out languidly with my moans.
“Oh, that’s it. I hear you.” Tony’s breathing turns ragged and rough while I slowly climb toward my peak.
The proverbial dam breaks inside and pleasure washes through me, weakening my limbs, making me grateful I’m in the tub. Unlike most of the time when I masturbate, this release continues, longer and sweeter, like the pleasure I receive when I’m with Tony.
My whimpers and moans of ecstasy set Tony off on the other end of the line and I hear him reach his climax as well. His orgasm sounds loud and sexy as hell, making me wish I was there to see what it does to him.
There’s a comfortable silence between us as we both come down from our high.
It’s not lost on me how many times Tony used the word “love” to describe how he felt. For the first time in my life, possible baby or not, I feel like everything may work out for me in a relationship. And it makes my heart swell with emotion.
Chapter Sixteen
Tony
Last night seemed like a turning point for Heather and me. We still have a lot to sort out, but it feels like we’re on solid ground and that’s all that matters. I know I’ve fallen for her—hard. How could I not when she’s so amazing?
You sound like a love-struck teenager. Going to carve your initials in a tree next?
Whatever. I don’t need to analyze it. Waste of time. Just accept and enjoy.
I want her to meet my family. But it wouldn’t be right to introduce her to everyone and not tell my mom about the possible baby. She’d flip. I’m still coming to terms with all of it—but I don’t need DNA proof to finally grow up and face my responsibilities like a man. It might burn my gut to tell my mom, but it’s the right thing to do.
It’s doing the right thing that matters in life, even if it’s difficult. Hell, the easy way out is called the “easy way” for a reason—because it’s not hard. And when have I ever backed down from a challenge?
Thoughts of impending fatherhood roll over and over in my mind as I scroll through the pictures Heather uploaded to the computer from her new camera. There are some remarkable ones of the building and my roof top garden. What would it be like to share all the things I’ve helped build with a child? Would I see the world anew through the wonder in his or her eyes?
I pause over a particular favorite of mine and send it to the commercial printer sitting next to me, opting for an eleven by seventeen print size. This one will proudly hang in my new home office. Maybe I should be contemplating a room for a baby, too.
Hold on now. A baby in my bachelor pad. Let’s not put the cart before the horse. That’s a curve ball I hadn’t intended. But then again, who plans for an unexpected surprise like this when they always had protected sex?
And then there’s Portia’s demands to consider. After paternity testing we’d have to discuss custody. What if she has no plans to share custody? I bet money would change her mind. Am I ready to tackle the responsibility of having a baby even part of the time? Would my mother want to help or be resentful I asked?
She’s been having a good time traveling with her church group and dating again. May have taken her a decade of therapy but she’s finally ready and I’m glad. Gino and Vinnie still seem a little on the fence, almost as if they’re afraid of losing our mom to another man. She’s in her early fifties. I’d rather see her happy and carefree than anything else in the world.
Maybe I’d need to hire help with a baby. Panic sends a shiver of sweat down my spine. I’ve never even changed a diaper. Holy shit, what has my perfectly ordered life become?
One minute I’m on my knees, receiving orders from the sexiest woman I’ve ever met in my life, and the next I’m getting doused with a cement truck full of cold water—told I may be the father of a child with a frivolous socialite. Talk about life changing. And slightly depressing.
I shove the complicated thoughts away, determined to address them later, when I have more time to ruminate over the bigger picture.
Assuming the baby is yours.
Yeah, only need to wait twelve more weeks to find out. No pressure.
In a few minutes, I scroll from the building shots to the ones of our sexy shoot last week, and all thoughts of children and future possibilities flee my mind. Heather’s expertise in the medium shines in these pictures. The light and shadows playing over my skin look dangerous, like I could be a professional model and these are shots for a new brand of distressed jeans. Although, the chains lend a distinct BDSM feel to the setting. Might not be what an advertiser would want. Then again, what the hell do I know?
Still, my eyes keep lingering over the images. They’re provocative and evoke a sense of sensuality. Hmm… maybe if I crop some of these to take my face out.
Over the next hour I darken and lighten shadows, play with cropping and scale, then print the ones I think look the best. Laying them on the flat surfaces of the studio, I have to say I’m impressed. There are some serious art quality shots here. I carry a few into the living room when I run out of table space in the studio.
There’s a pounding at my door, which is unexpected as I don’t have any deliveries scheduled for today. I head toward the door, hearing my brothers familiar voices as I reach the hall past the kitchen.
I open the door to see I was right, both boneheads decided to stop in unannounced. “And to what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
Vinnie pushes in first, a determined look on his face, followed closely by the youngest, Gino. Seeing them both side by side, you’d never think they were brothers—me and Gino, no doubt. But Vinnie, or as he prefers to be called, Vince, inherited some blond gene that must have been recessive. If he hadn’t looked so much like our dad in facial features I’m sure there would have been hell to pay for my poor mom.
Unlike Gino and me, who look Italian through and through, Vinnie has light blue eyes and sandy blond hair. He and my friend Marcus look more like brothers than we do.
Vinnie stares at me, unflinching. “I told him.”
“Told him what?” I ask, a vague sense of unease settling in my gut.
“About Portia.”
Gino shoves my shoulder. “You couldn’t tell me yourself, you fucking coward?”
Anger pushes to the forefront of my mind. “You son of a bitch.” I glare at Vinnie. “You had to open your mouth. Like some damn gossiping yenta.” A fist closes over my heart. “You didn’t tell Mom did you?” Unconsciously my hand curls into a fist as well. “I think I might have to kill you if you did.”
Vinnie shakes his head no and advances deeper into my apartment. I follow and my little brother pushes my back once more. “Seriously? Is that all you have to say? Weren’t you the one always preaching shit to us growing up like ‘no glove, no love’?”
My other brother chimes in from the kitchen, “Or my personal favorite, ‘Wrap it before you tap it.’”
“Or the one you shouted when I left to pick up my prom date,” Gino says. “‘Cloak that joker, before you poke her.’”
Laughter bubbles up as we follow him down the hall, effectively diffusing my anger, with the memories the two bring up.
“Not as bad as my first date with Jennifer James, damn she was smokin’ hot. ‘Don’t be a fool, cover your tool.’”
Tears start to leak out of my eyes, I’m laughing so hard. “All right, you sorry bastards. I get it! Stop already. And for your information, I was protected.” I shrug. “I’m not sure how it happened.”
Gino shoves his hands in his pocket. “Vinnie said it might not be yours. Is that the truth?”
“I have no idea, man. I don’t know this girl all that well.”
Vinnie looks around, notices a print and walks toward it. “You knew her well enough to screw her… repeatedly.”
He’s standing over one Heather took of the plants on my roof-top garden. There’s a spectacular view of the s
kyline in the background. It’s a nice contrast of the lush greenery transposed over the industrialized progress.
“Sex isn’t a big deal to some women,” I say. “And she was one of them. She liked to have fun. Liked to party. We had some good times together, went to a few society functions. Really, it wasn’t a major time investment from either of us.”
Gino starts in again, “And now you might pay the ultimate price for the next eighteen to twenty two years.” A wry grimace twists his face. “Doesn’t seem fair when you’ve been careful all your life.”
Vinnie smile. “Yeah, especially when considering the extraordinary humiliation you put us through with your little ‘helpful’ sayings.”
For the first time since I found out Portia was pregnant, I’m not pissed off. Nor am I thinking the worst case scenario that she’s a money grubbing gold digger out for my millions. I bet Heather would be proud of me. Yup. I’d call that personal growth.
“You know what, assholes? It is what it is. No sense wasting my time complaining and angling to get out of it. We’ll just have to see what the test results say.”
“Wow,” my youngest brother says. “You’re taking it much better than I thought.” He wanders over to see what Vinnie is admiring. “Hey, where did these come from? Are they of this building?”
“Yeah, Tony,” Vinnie says. “These are really good.”
“Thanks. Heather took them. I’ll tell her you like them, she’ll be pleased.”
“These are like, professional good.” Gino says, picking one up by the edges for a closer look. “Do you have any more?”
“Yeah, come on back. I’ll show you.”
They both saw the studio Sunday, neither one commented on it then, more eager to get to the game than admire my hard work.
“Huh,” Vinnie says, trailing slowly after me. “I wondered what or who you made the studio for. Should have guessed. But honestly, how could I have known? You’ve never done anything like this for a woman before.”
My heart swells with pride as the two knuckleheads walk around the room and look at all the pictures, even the provocative ones of me.
Vanilla Twist: A Walk on the Wild Side Novel (Heather and Tony, Book 2) Page 11
