Teach Me Something (Something Series Book 4)

by Aubrey Bondurant

  I wasn’t sure my body could survive it, but if I had to pick a way to go, this would be a good one. And the look of pure pleasure on Will’s face when he hit his own climax made it all worth it.

  He helped me up, kissing me deeply before disposing of the condom and washing his hands.

  “Kitchen counter sex wasn’t on my list, but it should’ve been.” Of course the OCD in me had the bottle of cleaner out scrubbing the surface as I said it.

  He leaned over, giving me another peck before making me a fresh omelet and reheating his. “What’s with the rings in the open box on your nightstand?”

  I’d completely forgotten I’d left them there last night. “My wedding and engagement rings. I took them out of my jewelry box last night with the intention of calling someone today about either auctioning them or consigning them.”

  He dished up our plates, and we both sat down on stools at the kitchen island to eat.

  “Closure?” he asked softly, his eyes meeting mine.

  “Long overdue, especially considering I never really cared for the engagement ring, truth be told.”

  “It wasn’t big enough?” He teased, knowing full well since the box had open that the engagement ring was obnoxiously large.

  “Six carats, so no, it wasn’t the size that was the problem.”

  “What was?”

  “I felt like I was wearing his ego on my finger. He’d brag about how it was Neil Lane and ensure I showed everyone—almost as if it was more about what he could afford than the sentiment behind it. I would’ve preferred a band with a sweet inscription rather than the largest diamond.”

  I thought it interesting, the difference between ego and pride. Will had pride when it came to accepting a handout, but Michael had an ego when it came to how much money he made and the way that would make people view him. It only highlighted the fact that it came down to the man, not the job, paycheck, or age.

  Will looked contemplative. “Yet you listed you want a man who makes more money than you.”

  Had I? “I believe I said financially independent. My hope was to find someone who isn’t competitive about my salary or who wouldn’t just want me for my money.”

  “How’s your omelet?” Now it was his turn to change the subject.

  “Really good.” And it was. Fluffy, with the right amount of cheese. “All I can seem to manage is to scramble them.”

  “When you eat two dozen eggs a week, you get creative.”

  It was clear he worked for his body, but I realized I hadn’t a clue about his diet or routine. “What else do you eat?”

  “Protein bars or shakes through the day, a veggie and chicken typically for dinner. But by Friday night, I’m typically bad with pizza.”

  “Any chance you want to be bad together tonight?” The moment the words left my mouth, I blushed at the assumption he’d wish to see me again so soon. We might be playing things by ear, but that didn’t mean all of a sudden we’d start spending every minute together.

  Will only grinned. “It’s a date, but I have to work first. I can bring pizza by afterward, but it’ll be past midnight.”

  Right, he had his job. At the sex club. Although I hated him working where he was talking to other women about sex, I absolutely respected that he did so in order to pay for his brother’s medical needs. “Sure. I’ll put you on the front desk’s list so you can come right up.”

  He got up to clear the dishes, but I beat him to it. “You cooked. I’ll clean, and I may need to stock up on breakfast fixings for tomorrow. My culinary efforts are quite boring compared to—” I screeched when his palm smacked my backside and realized I’d said the B word.

  He chuckled, rubbing the spot with the offending hand and pulling me towards him. “Something tells me I’m gonna enjoy this bit of fun. How much time do you have for a shower?”

  My hands roamed down his back and shoulders, exploring his defined muscles before I trailed kisses down his neck, the dishes long forgotten. “Plenty.”

  As he took my hand, my intercom buzzed from downstairs.

  I pulled away reluctantly, pressing the button. “Yes.”

  “Michael St. Clair is here for you Ms. Davenport.”

  Will arched a brow while I shook my head.

  “Told you. No good deed... Shit.”

  “I can go if you want to speak with him in private. Or stay.”

  “Why should you have to leave when it’s him who’s intruding?” I pressed the button, determined to get this disaster over with once and for all. “Send him up.” But then I realized I was still naked under my robe.

  Will chuckled. “You go get dressed, and I’ll let him in.”

  Now it was my turn to arch a brow. “Well, that ought to make quite the statement.”

  He grinned. “I’ll even put on a shirt as not to make it sting quite so much.”

  ***

  I dressed quickly. By the time I walked out to the living room, Michael was standing by the door while Will was in the kitchen scrubbing dishes. He threw me a wink over his shoulder.

  “Michael, your unexpected visits are growing tiresome. What do you need?”

  My unusual, less-than-cordial greeting took him off guard, and he glanced in the direction of Will. “Sorry to have interrupted you, but you’re the one butting in where you’re not welcome by driving Brittany to her parents’ home last night.”

  I held up a hand, feeling the sum effect of the last two years bubbling up. I’d been gracious, I’d been fair, and most of all, I’d always remained polite. But no longer. “Your fiancée took a page out of your book and decided to crash my party yesterday evening. I made sure she made it somewhere safe for the night, not liking that she was so upset and knowing she’s pregnant. So if you aren’t here to thank me for it, then get the hell out.”

  His eyes widened.

  Although I didn’t look at Will, I could feel him silently cheering me on.

  “I’m sorry. She’s just so damn sensitive at the moment with the pregnancy hormones and I’m—”

  “No, no, no.” I shook my head, feeling de ja vu all over again where he took ownership of nothing.

  “What?”

  “I said no. I’m not listening to this. I’m your EX-wife. And do you know what benefit that affords me? It gives me the right to tell you I don’t have to listen to you absolve yourself of a mess you helped create. Your fiancée is pregnant with your child and crying her eyes out, so your selfish excuses are bullshit. It’s not her being overly sensitive, it’s you being insensitive.”

  “I thought that you, in particular, would understand.”

  “Believe me when I say I do. I understand that in the ten years we were together, I’ve never heard you speak to me the way you did to her on the church steps after the funeral. That despite how shitty your timing was for calling an end to our marriage, I couldn’t ever truly call you an asshole. But the man I’m looking at right now is exactly that. Hell, you stalked me, then dragged me in to get an annulment weeks ago because you wanted to hurry up and get a ring on her finger, and now you’re saying she trapped you. Grow the fuck up, Michael.”

  “That’s rich coming from you with your boy toy in your kitchen.”

  Oh, no, he didn’t. “First of all, you don’t come into my home and insult my guests. And secondly, Will has more class, more maturity, and more integrity than you’ve ever shown. And the fact that you stand there insulting him says way more about your character than his. You’re going to be a father, so whatever is happening with you, I suggest you get it together. Because, like this, you aren’t the man I once respected or someone your mother would be proud of.”

  If it hadn’t been true, it might’ve sounded like a low blow, but I knew it resonated when tears sprang to his eyes. “I—shit—I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do now. I screwed up, and it might be too late.”

  Finally, I stole a look at Will, who was sliding a mug of coffee over the kitchen island towards my ex. “Here. Start with some coffee, yeah?�
�

  If ever there was a measure of a real man, Will was it. Watching him extend an olive branch to someone who’d not two minutes ago insulted him was something to behold. I realized in that moment none of the criteria I’d thought I wanted in a mate could hold a candle to those held by the man who was standing in my kitchen.

  I watched Michael hesitate only a moment before taking the offered cup.

  “I’m sorry.” Michael moved closer, extending his hand over the countertop.

  Will took it. “Apology accepted.”

  Next, Michael turned towards me. “This was all done in really poor taste, and you’re right. I should’ve thanked you for last night. I need to man up and not only be a father, but also figure out how to make amends with Brittany. But I can’t marry her properly until after the baby gets here.”

  I wasn’t sure where all this advice was coming from, but apparently I’d tapped a well of wisdom. “Then take her to a courthouse or a beach or Vegas and marry her improperly. You can marry her a second time once the annulment comes through, but do something to show her that you want to be with her and that you’re committed to starting this family together.”

  Will handed me a cup of coffee with an approving smile. Although Michael was going through a personal crisis at the moment, the very real fact remained that he was cutting into my shower time with Will. As though he could read my thoughts, the object of them smirked.

  We were both brought out of the moment when Michael took a seat on my kitchen stool, clearly seeking counsel, oblivious to his interruption.

  “You think? You think we should go elope?”

  Yes, like right this very minute.

  Thankfully, Will was a bit more diplomatic than my thoughts had been. “Yes, and maybe get the nursery ready, buy some baby clothes and surprise her. Something that makes her believe you’re excited for this baby.”

  The sound of a cell phone came from the bedroom, and Will excused himself to go answer it, evidently recognizing the ring tone.

  “You’ve changed,” Michael commented, looking at me strangely once Will left the room.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” And I did. I’d always been able to go after what I desired within my career, unapologetically, with a combination of determination and hard work. But with my marriage, I’d been content to act as little more than a spectator. Now, I was no longer content to let life pass me by. Instead, I wanted to be in the driver’s seat and put my own personal happiness as a priority.

  “It was. I just never pictured you so, I don’t know…”

  “Blunt?”

  “I was going to say confident.”

  In other words, not boring. My lips curved into a smile. “Confidently chewing you out?”

  He shrugged. “It was deserved and probably long overdue. I thought maybe—after my mom was in the hospital that I’d call you, and you’d come and be there. You were always so good at stuff like that, and I found myself needing you. That’s why I kept calling.”

  Ah, yes, the safe-in-a-crash Volvo edition I used to be. “You only felt that way because you were reaching out for what was comfortable in a time of crisis.”

  “Is that what we were?” His brown eyes looked sincere with the question, and I didn’t hesitate with the answer.

  “Yes. Comfortable, but not really happy. Not towards the end, anyhow.”

  He sighed, clearly knowing I was right. In fact, he’d had the guts to see it before I had. And maybe that truth had been harder to face than him actually leaving.

  “You seem happy now?”

  “I am.” I turned, watching one of the reasons come down the hall with his bag over his shoulder and his shoes on.

  Will turned towards me. “Sorry, I have to go, but I’ll see you later tonight with a pizza, yeah?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Having my ex sit there watching us made our goodbye awkward. It pissed me off, but obviously Will didn’t care. He cupped my face and leaned down for a lingering kiss, not at all concerned about our audience.

  He turned and offered his hand one last time to Michael. “Good luck to you.”

  “Thank you and again, sorry for earlier.”

  “Water under the bridge,” Will said before walking out of my condo.

  ***

  It took another ten minutes to get Michael out of my home, but not before I made him promise not to show up unexpectedly at my door, at a party, or to cause his fiancée to do the same. I felt good about closing that chapter of my life. Finally.

  The last two fashion shows and subsequent party made the remainder of the day go by quickly. But once I’d returned to my apartment, time ticked by slowly. I finally decided to crawl into bed and save some energy for Will’s arrival and woke to the sound of knocking.

  Not bothering to throw on a robe, I answered the door in my silk nightie and enjoyed the way Will’s tired face lit up when his gaze landed on me.

  In addition to a duffle bag, he was carrying a pizza box. Judging from the smell, it was freshly made.

  He shut the door behind him, flipped the lock, and set the box on the counter before tugging me down the hallway towards my bedroom.

  “What about your pizza?”

  He glanced back, giving me an incredulous look. “The day I pick food over sex with you, you’re welcome to kick my arse.”

  Ah, one more reason I was quickly becoming a fan of men in their twenties.

  It was almost two o’clock in the morning before he brought a now-cold pepperoni pizza to bed, unapologetic in scarfing it down while naked. “Want a piece?”

  I shook my head, barely able to keep my eyes open after two orgasms. I felt as though every part of my body, even my mind, was completely contented at the moment.

  “Sorry I had to leave when I did earlier, but the call was from my agent about a gig in Miami in a few weeks. Did Michael stay long after?”

  “No, thankfully. And I hopefully made it clear that I’m done with impromptu visits, phone calls, or interventions.”

  He chuckled. “You were something today.”

  “Mm, something good or bad?”

  “Something amazing. At the risk of sounding condescending, I’m proud of you. Did it feel good?”

  “Thanks. I think closure always does. Although two years ago it sucked going through a divorce, now I know it’s better for the both of us.”

  He swallowed hard. “Uh, what you said about him not being half the man that I was, it meant a lot.”

  “I meant every word. Michael was always so jealous of any success I had and never truly supportive. Clearly, he’s also still struggling with the thought of responsibility.”

  “He should’ve been proud instead of competitive. No one who loves you the way you deserve should ever ask you to diminish yourself so they can shine brighter.”

  If I wasn’t already falling hard and fast for this man, I would be now with that statement. “Your maturity and class are definitely well beyond your years.”

  He trailed his hands down my arm. “So, I take it you’re a fan of being with a younger man now?”

  I grinned, liking the way we were able to remain playful even after serious conversation. “For more than one reason.”

  He slid a hand up my thigh. “How about I give you a couple more?”

  ***

  Over the next few weeks, Will and I continued the pattern of spending our weekends together, starting with him standing outside of my door after midnight on Friday with a pizza in his hand and not eating it until much later when it was cold.

  This weekend, however, was the first time we’d be attending a party together with our mutual friends. It was an event up in Connecticut for Colby’s charity foundation to raise money for kids with cancer and would consist of a cocktail party on one evening and a luncheon the next day. Although I would’ve been okay in telling people about our relationship, I didn’t know if he felt the same.

  Considering today was Friday and I’d see him tonight, I figured it
might be a good time to discuss it.

  I was sitting at my desk at work when Erin patched Claus von Loch through. I picked up the phone immediately. “Claus, how are you?”

  “Fantastic, darling, but I need a favor. Do you remember the Australian from your party last month, uh, William something? Modelled for Calvin Klein.”

  Talk about a loaded question. My heart beat faster simply from the sound of his name dropping from my lips. “Will MacPherson. Yes, I remember.”

  “Good. I may be looking to sign a fresh face, and I heard you’ve worked with him before. Can you recommend him?”

  I hesitated briefly, knowing this was tricky territory, and proceeded with the safest possible answer. “Of course. He was on my cover. But I’ll tell you up front I’m biased because he’s a friend of a friend, which is how I found him. So for an impartial recommendation, you should contact Bart Chesley. He’s worked with Will a number of times.”

  “You’re always so diplomatic, my dear. I’ll give Bart a call, then. But if he still works with young William, that in and of itself earns him an audition.”

  Bart was a very exclusive photographer who only worked with people who were professional. Simply put, he didn’t allow or entertain bad behavior. His endorsement would go a long way.

  “I look forward to seeing you in Milan in February then, my dear.”

  “Yes. I can’t wait. See you then.” I hung up, feeling good about the way I’d navigated that situation without overstepping and causing Will to freak out because I’d done him a favor.

  I arrived home later that night after my regular Friday night yoga class. There I showered and packed my suitcase for the weekend up in Connecticut, checking things off a list, of course. I wished Will and I were traveling up together, but he wouldn’t be able to leave until after his shift at Club T tomorrow night.

  Ugh. I hated the reminder of that place. Not because I had anything against it. Obviously, that would’ve been hypocritical as I’d gone there as a client myself, but because the thought of him talking to other women about sex made me uneasy. God only knew the types of conversations he had, ranging from women like me who were trying to find their confidence to very adventurous types telling him their ultimate fantasies without reservation.