“Shit…be careful with her.”
“Well, you aren’t helping with that. She was sniffing me out before you called, and trust me, I’ll be doing everything I can to avoid her. I’m thankful she’s going back to California next week.”
“Sorry,” he whispers sincerely. “It’s just…I’m driving today and wanted to talk to you before we hit the road.”
“I see.”
“And then there’s my issue.”
“Yes, your emergency. Mmm. Any symptoms?”
“It’s like it’s turned on me and doesn’t even wake me up anymore.”
“Do you know when this issue started?”
“It could’ve started when my girlfriend gave me incredible head on a balcony in Lake Tahoe.”
An instant image of me on my knees, mouth wrapped around him as he fisted my hair, fire in his eyes, praise pouring from his lips, has me squeezing my thighs together.
Lake Tahoe cemented our relationship. The second Joel deposited me in the three-story palace Easton rented us for the weekend, I went to work and lit every candle in the place before I waited for him in bed—wearing nothing. The second he breached the door, we didn’t separate until Joel whisked me back to the airport. Though we’ve only managed to steal a handful of days together over the last two months, what we have is rapidly turning into the most intimate and committed relationship I’ve ever been in. My living reality is far better than any Jane Austen scenario I can recall.
“Or maybe it was this past weekend,” he continues, “in that chalet in Idaho.”
“Sounds serious,” I murmur as a vision shutters in of a naked Easton, arms splayed on the sides of the rustic outdoor tub, expression smoldering as I undid my robe, wearing nothing but a smile before stepping in. During both rendezvous we spent our days getting lost in our surroundings and our nights and mornings getting lost in each other.
“If I’m being one hundred,” Easton continues, “my cock really hasn’t been the same since I met her.”
“Hmmm. Sounds like a real pickle.” I glance at my father’s office, seeing him fully occupied, which relaxes my guard a little. “Who did you tell my receptionist you were?”
“A man who really needs more one-on-one with his girl.”
Ache seeps in further as I start to dread the upcoming weekend without him. “Any idea when that will be?”
“Working on that now. I kind of hate that we added more dates to the tour.”
“We talked about this. I’m nothing but happy for you. To be honest, I expected it.”
“But it means we have to keep this charade going on longer.”
“It’s not a charade,” I defend sharply, a little too sharply.
“No, it’s not,” he exhales audibly. “That was a poor choice of words.”
“Well, if you’re in need of words, I’m your girl.” I muse. “So, is your dad still with you?”
“Yeah, but after the Salt Lake show, we’re off the rest of the weekend. Maybe after the show, I’ll come to you?”
“You would do that?”
“Seriously? Right now, I would fly into the fucking sun to get back to where we were last weekend. I felt sick when I had to leave you in that chalet.”
“So, if I’m hearing you correctly, what you’re really saying is that you’re completely and utterly whipped?”
“You don’t want to start this spar, Beauty,” he warns. “You’ll lose.”
“Have I won a single argument with you yet?”
His chuckle rumbles over the line. “No, but you keep starting them. You’re such a little asshole.”
“Well, I am a ginger,” I boast. “Rumor is, I have no soul.”
“Only because I stole it.”
“That may be true,” I sigh, allowing him to hear the smitten in my voice because that’s what this is—smitten, and every accompanying synonym—taken, enamored, infatuated. Though it’s been a struggle to keep us under wraps since Dallas, when doubts threaten to take over, all I have to do is replay the beautiful words he spoke to me to convince me to bet on him, to believe in us. In the two months we’ve officially been a couple, he’s delivered on every promise, mainly in the way of giving more pieces of himself to me without reservation. In return, I’ve done the same. He’s made and kept me a priority without putting me through my paces or questioning his intentions. His only motive seems to be to keep us together and me happy. In short, he’s perfect.