by JB Salsbury
I work my boxer briefs and jeans back up but leave the buttons open before I roll to my side and push up on one elbow. I trace her bare thigh with my fingertips, watching goose bumps trail my touch. “Will you let me make you feel good?”
Her muscles tense, drawing my eyes to hers. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” She sounds so small, so vulnerable, and again I go back to wanting to crush that dickbag for taking her sexual freedom from her. “I need to be the one delivering for a while, if that’s okay. I-I’m afraid if you touch me, I’ll flashback to that night.”
“However long it takes, I’m not going anywhere. And if you never get to a point where you’re okay with me touching you, that’s all right too. We’ll work around it.”
She blows out a breath and her shoulders relax. “Thank you.”
I pull her into my arms and close my eyes, amazed that I have my Sadie back in my life, in my arms, and in my bed.
Not a single thing could ruin this.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jack
I’m staring at the light on the waffle maker, waiting for it to change colors, with a big, stupid grin on my face. Not because I love waffles, but because the woman who does is sound asleep in my bed.
Sadie.
My Sadie.
She slept in my arms all night, her arm thrown over my gut, her leg interwoven with mine, and I fought sleep for as long as I could so I could lie there and enjoy it.
I would still be there if it weren’t for my wanting to make her breakfast in bed. The desire to meet Sadie’s needs before she’s even aware of them overrides all desires to meet my own.
The light turns green and I open the iron to find the waffle not quite as crispy as I know she likes, so I fork it out, trash it, and pour another.
My phone pings with the myBubble notification, stealing my attention. I stare at the closed door to my room and smirk. She’s messaging Dawn. This early?
I open the message and grin.
* * *
I did it and it was ahhh-mazing!
* * *
My heart gallops. It really was incredible. I was so nervous to touch her, so afraid that she’d be hesitant after what she’d been through, but she blew me away with her honesty. She was clear about what she needed from me, and I loved every bit of it.
I chew my lip, wondering how to respond. Then I type and send.
* * *
And? Feelings still there?
* * *
I’m afraid to know the answer, but I have to. Was last night just a trial run for her? Was I a safe guy to experiment with? Or is this leading where I hope it is?
I frown as her text bubbles come and go and start up again. She’s thinking way too hard about this. Not good news for me.
When I smell smoke, I whirl around. My phone pings with her response as I throw open the waffle iron and curse at the charred breakfast. I toss it in the garbage and reach for my phone.
“Good morning,” Sadie says from right behind me.
I shove my phone in my jeans pocket and try to act casual.
“What smells?”
“That, my beautiful girl, was your breakfast.” I lean in, hesitate while I wait for her consent, then press my lips to hers. “Good morning.”
Her bashful smile warms my chest while my phone with her answer burns in my pocket.
She peeks around me. “Waffles?”
I follow her line of sight. “That’s the goal.”
“Need some help?” She steps around me, and I barely resist the urge to slide my palms up her smooth thighs and under her shorts.
“Evidence would suggest that I do.”
She busies herself at the waffle iron while I make her a cup of coffee the way she likes it—cream, four sugars. She’s sucking on her bottom lip while pouring batter into the iron, and I’m reminded of her mouth on me last night.
“Ouch—fuck.” Hot coffee stings my torso.
I’m setting her cup down to grab a paper towel when I feel the soft press of her fingers as she swipes the liquid that has dripped down and around my belly button. She sticks two fingers in her mouth and sucks the coffee from them with a hot flare in her eyes. After licking them clean, she dips those fingers into the front of my jeans. Her saliva-covered fingers brush the tip of my hard-on and I fall back against the countertop, my legs going completely weak. She steps close, licks her lips, and eyes my dick.
“Sadie girl, are you trying to tell me you don’t want waffles for breakfast?”
“Why can’t I have both?” Her eyes flash to mine. “Hands?”
I grip the countertop behind me and hold on for dear life as the vision of her dropping to her knees in front of me, in my kitchen, wearing my T-shirt, brings me to the brink of orgasm. She slides my jeans down to my knees and grips me in a tight fist.
Smoke rises from the waffle iron, but my thoughts are stuck on Sadie as she takes me slowly into her mouth. My knees buckle and I hold the countertop tighter as the warm sensation of her tongue drives me crazy. The smoke thickens and I feel as though I’m in a race to finish before the smoke alarm goes off and makes Sadie stop.
I want to tell her to stop teasing, to go faster and stroke harder, but I know she needs to be in control. I won’t take that from her.
My heart races. My chest rises and falls faster and faster as I watch her. Then she does something I’ve noticed she hasn’t done yet. Not during our kiss in my old truck in Vegas. Not at all last night on the couch or in my bed.
She closes her eyes.
And when she does, she moans deep in her throat and the vibration pulls my release to the surface.
“Sadie…”
I try to pull my hips back to free her mouth, but like last night, she chases me down, securing the suction that punches my hips forward. I watch her throat work as she helps me ride it out.
My arms shake with the effort it takes to remain standing as she pulls free and climbs up my body to standing. She flashes a brilliant smile, and I take her mouth. Hot, heavy, and maybe a little too hard. But when her hands slip into my hair and she tilts her head, opening for me, licking inside my mouth, and tasting my tongue, I decide she’s okay with my eager kiss.
The screech of the smoke detector breaks us apart, but only long enough for me to unplug the waffle iron, toss it in the sink, and turn on the water. Then we’re back on each other, our mouths fused together as smoke burns our noses.
“Let me taste you,” I say against her lips.
She sucks in a quick breath. “Not yet.”
I swore to myself I wouldn’t push her, but when we’re together like this, it’s nearly impossible to hold back. Visions of her paintings flash behind my eyes, and I rest my forehead against her shoulder, catching my breath, pulling her tighter to me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“Don’t apologize for wanting me.” She pulls back and I leave a few inches between us so that I can calm down. “How about we grab some fresh air?”
With the waffle iron soaked, breakfast in bed is out of the question. “I know a great place we could go for some real New York bagels.”
“That sounds perfect.” Her voice is as shaky as mine as we recover from the wave of arousal that nearly took us under.
I bend forward to pull up my jeans and there’s a crack of something hitting the floor. By the time I realize what it was, she already has my phone in her hand. I snag it from her too quickly and her eyebrows pinch together.
I make a show of checking out the screen. “Thank God, I thought it cracked.” I shove the device in my pocket and flash a reassuring smile. “It sounded like it cracked, didn’t it?”
She doesn’t look convinced but lets it go and grabs her coffee mug. “I need twenty minutes and then we can go.”
“Yeah, sure. Of course. However much time you need.” Slow down, Jack! You sound guilty. This is what happens when I’m forced to think fast, like, fifteen seconds after an orgasm. My brain isn’t back online yet!
She
disappears into the bedroom, and when I hear the bathroom door close, I scramble to get to my phone. I hit the myBubble app and open Sadie’s last response. Dawn had asked her if she still had feelings for me. My eyes skim the response once. Twice. And a third time to make sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me.
* * *
All of the feelings are there and MORE. I think I’m still in love with him.
* * *
I watch my bedroom door, hear the shower running, and smile so big it hurts.
“I love you too, Sadie girl. I’m never letting you go.”
Sadie
“Is it me or is our waiter totally flirting with you?”
From my position on the patio of a little vegan café, I watch as Jack glares at our server from across the room.
“He wasn’t flirting, he was just being nice.” I’m lying. He was kind of flirting.
By the time we were both showered and ready to leave his apartment, it was closer to lunch than breakfast, and after pizza last night, I was craving something healthier than bagels. Jack swore this place was the best vegan restaurant in town, so here we are.
Jack’s scowl swings to me. “Your eyes are gorgeous, but what was that he was saying about your hips?”
I shrug and fork another bite of kale into my mouth. “He said I have good hips.”
“Yeah, that.” He goes back to watching the man. “What the fuck was the point of telling you that other than to imply that he’d like to get his hands on them?”
“You’re overreacting,” I say, half entertained, half bored.
He leans over the table. “I’ve been coming here for three years and I’ve never heard that asshole so much as talk. He’s totally flirting with you. In front of me.”
I drop back in my seat and tilt my head. “You should be flattered then.”
He lifts a brow. “Yeah? Like how you were flattered when the hostess at La Jolla was being friendly with me?” When a response doesn’t come to me immediately, he laughs and shakes his head. “That’s what I thought.”
“Okay, that was different.”
“Not even a little bit.”
“She looked at your ass.”
He rolls his eyes. “You don’t think our waiter checked out your ass?”
“All I’m saying is—”
“No fucking way…Sadie?”
“Shit,” Jack mumbles.
Tanner steps up to our table with the woman I recognize from his wedding as his wife. She’s a gorgeous brunette, clinging to his arm almost as tightly as her bright pink dress is clinging to her hourglass body. Whoa… and she’s draped in enough gold to fund a small country.
“Tanner,” I say, and I look between him and Jack, who looks less than pleased to see his friend. “It’s good to see you.”
“I had no idea you’d be in town.” Even from behind his dark sunglasses, he’s clearly scowling at Jack. “You lose your phone, bro?”
Jack looks guilty but meets Tanner with a glare of his own, lips thin. “It’s Sunday.”
Whatever is going on between them feels as if it has something to do with me. I set down my fork, suddenly full.
“I’m going to get a table,” his wife says quietly.
“No need.” Tanner grabs two chairs and whirls them around, pushing them up to our table that’s hardly big enough for them both. “We’ll join them.”
“Out of all the places in New York.” I grin and sip my tea. “What are the chances?” Because this run-in feels very intentional.
“Jack didn’t tell you?” He chuckles. “We had an important meeting scheduled today.” He nods toward a building made of glass and metal that practically touches the clouds. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with him all morning.” He lifts his glasses and stares pointedly at me. “Now I see why he blew me off.”
“Tanner,” Jack warns.
I turn away to avoid the tension simmering between them. The skyscraper is exactly what I’d expect of a high-powered Manhattan advertising firm, but for some weird reason, it’s difficult to picture Jack in that life. He was always smart, always driven, but he was too down to earth for the suit-and-tie, cut-throat lifestyle. At least, he used to be.
“We’re about finished here,” Jack says, waving his hand for the check.
“Sadie Slade.” Tanner shakes his head. “Always such a distraction.” His gaze swings between Jack and me, a shit-eating grin on his face.
Not enjoying the attention on me, I nod toward Tanner’s wife as she clutches her designer handbag to her stomach and curls her lip at our dirty plates. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
He throws an arm over his wife’s shoulders. “Maribeth, this is Sadie, an old friend from high school.”
She gives me her fakest smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” I contemplate telling her I was at her wedding, but figure she’s not the type who would be interested in fraternizing with the help.
Our waiter brings our bill and hands it to Jack while grinning at me. I can practically hear Jack grinding his molars.
“Here.” Jack shoves the check back at the guy with a wad of cash. “Keep the change.” He pushes back his chair. “Hate to break up the party but—”
“So that’s it?” Tanner says to Jack cryptically.
Jack takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. “See you at the office tomorrow.”
When Jack moves away from the table, I follow, wanting to escape the tight air and Maribeth, who won’t stop looking down her nose at me.
“It was nice to meet you,” I say. Just because she’s mean doesn’t mean I have to be. “Bye, Tan.”
We make it two steps before Maribeth turns her entire body toward us. “Oh, Jackson?”
He freezes and his jaw flexes.
“Have you talked to Anaya?”
He turns and glares at her. “Classy, Maribeth.”
Tanner laughs and his wife joins in, shrugs, and says, “Just curious. She was hoping for a repeat.”
Jack ignores her and tugs me through the restaurant with Tanner calling behind us, “Calm down, Jackson! It was a joke!” through his laughter.
Once we’re outside and headed down the crowded Manhattan street, I lean into his side. “Now I see why you became uncomfortable when they sat down.”
He shakes his head. “Tanner’s not the guy he was in high school.”
“I can see that.”
“Maribeth gets off on causing problems and being a bitch, and when Tanner’s with her, he’s not much better.”
“Who’s Anaya?”
I practically stumble from the speed with which he stops and steps in front of me to meet my eyes.
“No one. Anaya is literally no one to me. She’s Maribeth’s friend who struggles with boundary issues, but I have never touched her. I’m not attracted to her at all in any way, but she isn’t picking up the hints. It doesn’t help that Tanner and Maribeth are always trying to push us together.”
“She’s the one who was hanging on you at the wedding.” I put it together instantly—the way she threw herself at Jack and how he seemed not the least bit interested. “She’s gorgeous. There’s no way I believe you’re not attracted to her in any way.” I lift a brow, daring him to deny it.
He snags my hand, and we continue walking. “If you spent more than ten minutes with her, you’d understand.”
I laugh and snuggle closer to him by wrapping my free arm around his. “You know, I never would’ve pictured you in this kind of life.” I motion around in case he didn’t understand my meaning.
“You mean a bustling city thriving with opportunity?”
“Exactly. Look at this place. It’s packed with business professionals on a Sunday. After what Tanner said, I guess it’s rare for you guys to take a day off?”
He seems to contemplate that before he answers. “The short answer is yes. If you slow down for even a second, there will be ten guys racing to take your place. You slow down, you die.”
“Yikes.
Seems to me the drive to stay afloat will kill you faster.”
He shrugs. “I never really thought about it like that.”
“You did when we were younger. I think you just forgot.”
He pulls me out of the way of a messenger bike then guides me back when it’s safe. “I’m curious, what kind of life did you imagine me living?”
That’s easy. “I always imagined you’d live like our dads—working hard but making fun a priority too. I saw you as the kind of man who loves his job but loves his family more. Always goes for that one more kiss before leaving every morning. A man who works hard but plays just as hard. Takes weekends for barbeques, pool parties, movie nights with his wife, lots of dates.”
He squeezes my hand as if to say he likes what he’s hearing and wouldn’t mind hearing more, but I refuse to embarrass myself more than I already have with my fantasy. “You act like that kind of life would be impossible here in New York.”
I stop, and this time, it’s me who commands his eyes. “Wouldn’t it?”
He clears his throat, and I really hope he doesn’t try to lie to me. After all, only minutes ago he was talking about why he can never slow down. He can’t deny the lifestyle here is vastly different than the one he would have had back in Las Vegas.
“Maybe at first, but once I get into a position with seniority…” He sees something in my expression that makes his words trail off.
We continue to walk, this time in silence. The sad truth is, Jack may love me, but he’s not ready to give up all he’s worked for in order to be with me. And he shouldn’t have to. Which means I’d have to accept that his drive for success would always come before me. And I’d have to move to New York for us to be together.
We would go into our relationship with the best intentions, but he’d work all the time and we’d never see each other. That’s not the kind of life either of us deserve.
With a sadness that surprises me, I hold on to him a little tighter.
His professional success is his priority, and I will never accept being second to his job. We’ve both changed too much to make our relationship work.
