“I want you here, Rachel. With me from now on.”
She looks up at the ceiling, smiling and shivering as I feel myself moving inside her still.
Still hard and nowhere near done with her just yet.
It’s easy to agree to some things in the heat of passion, but once her eyes focus on mine and she agrees, telling me she really is mine now and asking if that means I’m really hers too, I know we’ve both made the right choice.
“Of course I’m yours,” I remind her. “Your first and your only from now on.”
I kiss her lips, her neck, and then her chest, feeling myself harden fully again once my hands feel her soft smoothness under my touch.
She purrs with satisfaction and for the next hour or so, I get to see her from every angle I can think of, and she gets to feel me from behind as well as from all sides until we share another magical climax together.
It’s afternoon by the time we’re both sated. Spent. I’m the happiest man alive, a king who finally has his queen.
But has it come at the cost of my greatest friend? Do I have to lose Valentine so I can win Rachel?
The thought makes me feel heavy inside, and I wish I could have it both ways. Rachel and my best buddy by my side.
But I know how life works sometimes. You can have whatever you want in this life. I know that much from my own experience.
But when you take something from a certain place, something else is usually removed without your say so, filling the gap created somewhere else.
It’s nature’s way of balance and today if that’s the case.
It sucks.
I try not to dwell on it, but Rachel sense it, can read my thoughts as much as if I said them out loud.
Her hand traces through my hair, her other one drawing light circles on my chest.
“He’ll come back, Conor. And I’m not just saying that I really think he’ll come back,” she tells me, whispering the last part, pulling my head onto her chest until I relax. Hearing her heartbeat.
I hope she’s right, and I hope Valentine feels the same way. Wherever he is right now.
Where the hell could he be?
It’s an uninvited thought but it’s one I can’t stop replaying.
Having Rachel to lie with, feeling her soft touch on my hard body is soothing. It takes away some of the pain, but I know I’ll never rest until I get to the bottom of this.
“It’s only been half a day so far,” she reasons. “Give him time. Let him come back to you in his own time,” she says tenderly.
“Come back to us,” I reply. “Let him come back to us,” I repeat, letting my hand move down to her belly, feeling her, her warmth, and her smoothness.
“To us,” she agrees dreamily, and in no time at all, as much as I try to fight it we’re both fast asleep.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Rachel
Knowing how little sleep Conor got last night on the same couch, I doze for a while but have to get up before he does.
I need the bathroom, plus as much as I love it, having a two hundred and twenty pound slab of a man lying mostly on top of me is a short term thing at best.
Sliding out from under him, I feel his heavy arms reaching to pull me back in his sleep as he sighs deeply. It’s tempting, it really is, but I have other priorities right now.
“I’ll come back in a minute,” I whisper to him, pecking his cheek and feeling like skipping to the bathroom.
My legs have other plans, and halfway down the hall, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to walk properly again.
The man knows how to do one thing right, that’s for sure.
Finding another robe in the bathroom, I snuggle into it as I wish for matching slippers. No luck, but I make sure I scan the back yard and peer out into the gray-blue light of the afternoon, still hoping that Valentine will magically appear.
It’s been a twenty-four hour period of miracles, so I shouldn’t cancel out the possibility.
I can’t for Conor’s sake, I still do believe Valentine will come back somehow. I just know he will.
I shiver from the cold, but mostly from the realization that things can change so suddenly.
Yesterday morning my life had little meaning. I was about to move just so I could tell myself I had somewhere to live.
I was a virgin college graduate with no real prospects and I’d never even seen a real life penis or a dog that looked just like a wolf.
I’m still the same college graduate, but I’m a woman now. I feel different and my life has taken nothing short of a pretty dramatic turn.
I worry about what my dad will say or do, but that’s mostly out of habit.
Deep down inside, I know I love Conor and that he really does love me. It sounds corny, but sometimes corny things happen if we let them.
If I’d kept running, if I kept telling myself that I couldn’t or shouldn’t be with Conor, for whatever reason, then I never would be.
I’d live the rest of my life wondering, wishing, and punishing myself for not doing what I felt was right even though it was corny and felt impossible.
A smile plays on my lips now, not just because of how things have worked out, some good and some not so good.
But tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and for once in my life, I have a reason to be excited about that.
I’d love to plan something special, to show Conor just how much I care. How much I do love him, but the word Valentine in the same thought puts a cloud over everything again as I stare out into the yard.
Knowing Conor has me, but doesn’t need to be reminded of the Valentine I know he really wants.
The sound of the phone ringing loudly jolts me, snapping me to attention, and a ripple of panic flashes across my belly.
I guess I’m not out of the woods just yet. It might take more than an hour or two for my life to be perfect after all.
It rings out but then rings again and I wonder if I should wake Conor.
A part of my brain is screaming that it’s my dad. That it’s all over before it’s even started. But then I remember the number of places we called earlier and figure it might be someone calling about Valentine.
They’ve hung up by the time I pick up, but when I hear the third ring when I’m nearly back with Conor, I dart into his office and pick up.
“Conor Fox’s office,” I answer shyly, almost smiling at how much I love hearing his name out loud.
The sound of a female voice on the other end of the line has me on guard though. Instantly.
Whoever it is must be calling from a car by the sounds of it.
“Oh. Is Mister Fox there, I spoke to him earlier today. Angela Benson, realtor.”
I take a breath in to answer, but there’s something about her voice, her name.
“Angela Benson,” I say repeat slowly, trying to pinpoint where I know that name from.
“Umm, yeah it is. Can I speak to Mr. Fox or not?” she snaps, and in a second I place the voice. The attitude.
The face and the figure that goes with it.
I almost groan once I place who it is. Trouble is why is she calling Conor?
If I’m playing secretary I may as well ask.
“He’s in a meeting right now, Ms. Benson. Can I ask what your call is regarding, perhaps I can help?” I ask, sounding way less sincere than I’m trying to.
She huffs a sigh and I can hear the clack of her inch long nails against the steering wheel of her second-hand semi-luxury vehicle.
How do I know?
She’s our landlord. Well, she acts on behalf of the owner to have us pay rent.
There’s only one Angela Benson that would sound and act the same in this town, I’m sure of it.
“I’m right around the corner. Mr. Fox asked me to look into a property matter for him, I’ll only be a minute,” she tells me rather than asks.
I’m trying to think of an excuse to brush her off, but a bigger part of me is more than curious now.
In the same instant she’s tellin
g me she’ll be pulling up in less than a minute, Conor appears in the doorway looking sleepy, confused, and sexy as all hell wearing nothing but his birthday suit.
I force a smile and slam the receiver down.
“Who was that?” he asks, yawning. “Any news about Valentine? We should’ve heard something by now, even called in all my favors from city hall on this one.”
I make a croaking sound, my eyes moving from his eyes down to his groin.
Holy fuck, I actually fit that inside of me?
Even on a cold day, the man’s no slouch in that department.
“Hey? My eyes are up here,” he jokes, moving over to grab me again.
“It was your realtor,” I clip, surprised at how icy I sound. “She’ll be here any minute,” I add, almost challenging him but he looks more confused than I feel.
“Who?” he asks, scratching his abs and leaning over to peck my cheek, ignoring my attempts at acting jealous.
“You should get dressed,” I rush to tell him as he turns, looking back as his eyes run over me. Me in my robe and nothing else at three in the afternoon.
“Mmm hmm,” he says, shaking his head and ambling off down the hall, no doubt to visit the same room I just did before the phone rang.
I feel myself making a face, which becomes a screwed up mess when I see the familiar shape of Angela Benson’s car pulling up outside.
She stays in it for a time, making another call by the looks, which should give me enough time to at least get Conor dressed.
Or to just get rid of her entirely.
What the hell is she doing here?
Conor saunters back down the hall, winking at me and coming closer when the buzzer of the security monitor at the front door gets his attention.
“She’s here,” I announce, stating the obvious.
He rolls his eyes, lets his shoulders sag and I follow him to the hallway.
Using the intercom, he tells her to wait a minute.
He slowly moves to the sitting room and pulls on his jeans and sweatshirt before opening the door.
I feel like the world’s biggest moron, having just stood glued to the spot the whole time, still asking myself what the hell that woman’s doing here.
Her perfume fills the hallway, killing all that’s good about the natural smell in Conor’s place, and I can see enough of her to know it really is her.
My landlord’s realtor standing on Conor’s doorstep.
Well, like she said it was about a real estate matter. I’m sure Conor has a lot of that sort of thing going on in his life, in his line of work.
But still.
I can’t help feel a little intimidated. Compared to me, this woman’s Malibu Barbie, and I’m a cabbage patch kid.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Conor
Sensing there’s someone behind me, the estate agent who introduces herself as Angela, tries to look at me and past me at the same time.
She tells me her name, but after that, she isn’t making a whole lot of sense.
I don’t appreciate being ogled by strangers either, this body already has a mate. Not that she’s anywhere near my type anyway.
Plus, she’s letting in the cold.
“If I could have just a minute of your time, Mr. Fox, about the property we discussed earlier today?”
I hear the sitting room door close and figure Rachel’s either getting changed or not interested in realtor talk.
I glance at my watch before peering out into the street, maybe hoping for a glimpse of Valentine returning before I sigh, showing her in.
“Sure. But only a minute, I’m kind of in the middle of something,” I inform her.
I’m not sure what’s wrong with her, but she fluffs her hair and sticks her chest out, strutting inside like some weird bird looking for a feed.
And that’s what she needs. I don’t get why women think they have to be so stick thin these days.
Weird.
Still fuzzy from my nap and the best experience of my life so far, I slump into my office chair with a half-smile before signaling Ms. what’s her name to take a seat too.
I want Rachel again already, so I need to keep this interruption short.
“I guess I’ll get to the point,” she says, noticing my vacant look which is closely followed by my hand’s palms up in a ‘So?’ silent question.
“The property you called me about earlier today, I managed to get a hold of the owner once I… Once I looked into…”
Once you found out who I was, you saw dollar signs.
I nod briefly but hold my hand up. This meeting’s already over.
“I appreciate your time today, but I’ve since seen the property for myself and I’m not interested,” I tell her point-blank, which is true.
There’s no way I’d buy that dump and expect Rachel or anyone else to keep living there.
Her shining, almost plastic face struggles to make lines in it. Looks like Botox is a thing again.
“But you said earlier today...?”
I shrug, checking my watch again. I’m done house shopping for one day, I’ve got Rachel now I just need to find Valentine.
This time waster isn’t helping either of those.
“Earlier today I had an offer, now I don’t. Now, if you don’t mind?” I tell her, getting up and eyeing the doorway.
She humphs to herself and gets up to leave, almost bumping into Rachel as she comes out of the sitting room, still wearing her robe and a dark look.
The two stop suddenly, sizing each other up as I try to make eye contact with Rachel.
“You?” The realtor asks, looking Rachel up and down before turning to me.
“In a meeting, huh?” she asks sarcastically, but I’m already at the front door, holding it open.
“Goodbye,” I growl, giving a dark look of my own.
“I’m sure Mr. Beckett will be pleased to know where his daughter is, I went by there today before coming here. Apparently, his daughter is missing,” she spits before clipping down the steps in her heels, skidding on some ice before making it to her car.
I push the door shut with one hand, and turning to Rachel I ask her, “What the hell was all that about?”
She still looks sour. “Why don’t you tell me?” she retorts.
“Okay, okay,” I concede, holding my hands up and cracking a smile. “Let’s not get mad at each other over that… lady,” I tell her, jerking my thumb back behind me with a shudder of revulsion.
I’m grateful when Rachel comes to me, wrapping herself around me as I hold her in my arms.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that woman is the last person I would have expected to see here. What was all that about you buying a house?” she asks, and then apologizes again, saying it’s none of her business.
But it is.
It’s time to tell her everything.
“Rachel, come sit down. I have some things to tell you.”
She looks relieved, not worried as we take a seat on the couch together.
“I love you Rachel, and I won’t keep anything from you. Not now and not ever,” I start to explain.
“I love you too,” she adds quickly, hooking her arms around my neck.
It’s impossible not to hug her back, to kiss her as well.
God, I love her so much.
“Now, that realtor coming here wasn’t my idea. At least I didn’t invite her here,” I begin. “I called her this morning after you left.”
“Why?” Rachel asks.
“Because I wanted to buy your house, so you wouldn’t move. So you’d stay in the same city at least,” I admit, not ashamed to say it either.
She looks taken aback but then smiles wide. “You’d buy our house so I wouldn’t move?” she asks, making a little sound that makes me want to hug her all over again, but I force myself to focus on the facts.
“That’s right, I was gonna tell you how I feel. About us, and then tell your dad. I’d buy the house, and you could keep living there if you weren’t
ready to move in with me. To live here, I mean.”
Her eyes widen and her mouth makes that O shape again. “You want me to move in?” she asks innocently, but I thought that was pretty obvious.
I try to keep talking, to tell her everything, but she has so many questions of her own already.
“What will dad do though? His new job… Our new house,” she asks herself, thinking out loud.
“I have an idea, Rachel. But it would be up to your dad. I could have him work on my projects, with me,” I tell her.
“Like you used to?” she asks, surprising me this time.
“Uh, yeah. That’s what else I wanted to talk to you about…” I try to say, but she shows me the photo instead.
It looks like she’s joined some dots on her own, but I wonder how she got this photo.
God, I look so young. I was… I was about Rachel’s age when this was taken. And David, he looks so… happy.
“I guess your dad already told you we studied together, huh?” I ask her, wondering just when he might have done that. Rachel never let on she knew who I was.
“Nope,” she says, a matter of fact. “I’m assuming because he didn’t that he hates your guts,” she adds. Stifling a laugh before slapping me on the thigh.
“I know you well enough too, Conor. You would’ve said something if you knew who I was and I sure would have if I knew who you were before we even...”
I have to agree with her.
“I figured you and dad must have some history, but what happened, Conor?” she asks me, sounding concerned.
“I dunno, it was so long ago. We were like best friends and worked on everything together. Then one day we had to do a major presentation in front of what felt like the whole school.”
“Ah,” Rachel says loudly, holding a single finger up. “Dad’s crap at speaking to more than one person at a time. Brilliant otherwise, but zero social skills. I should know, I have half his DNA,” she grins before urging me to go on.
“Well, he kinda froze during his part of the presentation, and even though we worked on the design fifty-fifty, he lost big marks for his delivery, but he still passed.”
“And you?” Rachel asks with a raised brow.
I blow out some air, throwing my hands up, and shrug.
“I took questions after, I rubbed shoulders with the right people. Your dad shied away and within less than a day, I was the new star architect major,” I sigh.
Lost And Found: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Page 10
