Panic (16 page)

She opens her eyes. “Now what?” she asks softly.

“You can come now, babe.”

“Touch me, Ronin,” she begs.

I shake my head. “Sorry, no can do, Gidget. But I’ll let you watch as I touch myself and let’s just see if that’s enough to get you started.” I reach down and grab my dick and start pumping. Slow and long strokes.

Her mouth falls open, then closes a little as her eyes lower to watch my hand. She bites her lip again, but this time it’s not to try maintain control. I pump a little faster and that makes her breathe out a seductively long moan and close her eyes.

“Watch me, Rook,” I command. She opens her eyes but she only manages half-mast.

My plan was to make her come without touching her. I’ve done it before, but my tongue is far too eager to taste her newly smooth skin. She knows I’m about to cave and she wiggles a little, one foot dropping down to rest on my thigh, the other propped up on my shoulder like an invitation that I am powerless to refuse. I slide a finger inside her and pump with the same rhythm I’m using on myself. Her whole body tenses up, her back in a severe arch and her head pressing back against the tiled wall. I sink my tongue into her folds, flick against her clit, and we explode together—our moans echoing off the tiled bathroom walls.

We sit still for a few moments to enjoy the aftershocks, but then I get to my feet and pull her up with me. “OK, I think we’re ready to get started.”

She laughs as I lead her out into the bathroom, shut off the shower, and then grab a fluffy white towel and pat her down. I towel myself down a little as well, and then lead her back into the bedroom. “Lie down for me.”

She obeys, taking herself over to the king-size bed we share. Everything in this room is white except for the furniture and the floors. Those are both a dark mahogany wood. The soft flicker of candlelight makes her look like a goddess as she lies there, complacent and happy, wet and pink with the heat of the shower and her desire. I stand next to the bed and grab a cherry, then straddle her legs and lean down to touch the cherry to her lips. “Bite, please,” I ask softly.

These cherries came straight from the fruit basket on Antoine’s desk this morning. And even though it’s a little late in the year for cherries, they are soft and plump because all the fruit that comes in a basket to Chaput Studios is succulent and sweet and perfect. Just like my Rook. Her teeth sink into the flesh and she pulls back, chewing.

I take the other half and bite out the pit, whoof it into the waste basket near the nightstand, and then paint the juice around her mouth. “I told you, back when we did that first photoshoot, that if I had you naked with cherries, I’d drip it all down your belly and lick it off.”

Her seductive smile lets me know she’s remembering our first erotic shoot together.

“But before I do that…” I eat this cherry, then grab another one and put it up to her mouth. She bites, again leaving the pit for me. I whoof it and drag the fruit around the rosy areola in the center of her breast, making her nipple bunch up tight from the cold. The cherry turns her pale skin a deep red and I almost want to explode, that’s how hard this makes me. “I’m gonna do this.” My mouth covers her nipple and I lick the juice, then squeeze more, and lick it again. I do it all again on her other breast and when I’m finally ready to start on her belly, she’s all stained up with red juice.

I move down her abdomen, kissing her gently as I go, dragging my scratchy face along her sensitive skin, and then grab a whole handful of cherries and place them on the pristine white sheets next to me. It’s gonna stain the fuck out of them, but that’s the price you pay when you wanna have fun with fruit.

I bite and drip, bite and drip, then do it several more times until the little concave dip of her stomach is holding a pool of sweet nectar and her adorable belly button is overflowing. I push a fingertip into the liquid and drag it down towards her slit, stopping to let the juice collect in her folds. I repeat this until the red is diluted pink with her own wetness.

And then my tongue takes over. I eat her out like I’m starving for her sweetness, like I didn’t just take her in the bathroom twenty minutes ago, like this is my last chance to ever pleasure a woman between her legs with my mouth.

She moans, she whines, she whimpers. Her whole back buckles up, cherry juice drips down her body, dirty words are coming out of her mouth, and she starts fighting to get her chance to show me what
her
mouth can do to pleasure me back.

But I don’t let her up. I keep her there, at my mercy, holding her down and begging for more.

I blow her fucking mind with my tongue and fingers. I make her whimper and moan, squeal and fight when it gets too intense.

And then I fuck the shit out of her until we are exhausted and the hazy light of predawn is seeping through the blinds.

Chapter Twenty-three - RONIN

I wish I could say we enjoyed all the hundreds of things there are to do in Colorado on Saturday. Like went up to the mountains and marveled at the fluttering golden wave created by the thousands upon thousands of aspen trees that line the cliffs. Or took advantage of an early mountain snowstorm and went skiing up at A-Basin. Or hell, stayed in town and caught an Aves game.

But we did none of those things. Because we never got out of bed.

She’s still fucking trying to sleep right now and it’s almost eleven on Sunday. “Gidget,” I whisper into her ear. She swats me away with her hand, slapping my arm pretty good. “Gidge, we’re putting clothes on today, babe. Like it or not, we’re leaving the house.”

“To go where?” she moans.

“The mall. Elise wants us to go baby shopping with her.”

Rook grunts. “She does not. That’s dumb, why would she want us to tag along?”

Damn, she’s sorta cynical. And she’s totally on to me because Antoine begged me to come with him so he and I can nurse some beers and watch the Broncos annihilate the Eagles while the girls shop. But I’m pretty good at faking shit, so I try it out on Rook now. “Serious, she says she wants my opinion, she knows I’m all into this baby shit. And you need some girl time, you have no girlfriends.”

She turns this time, her mouth all screwed up. “Is
Clare
gonna be there?”

“Uh, well, yeah. She’s really not allowed to go anywhere alone these days. She’s gotta be with one of us at all times.”

“You look guilty, are you lying to me?”

“Gidget, I am nothing if not honest with you, babe. Seriously. Elise wants you to come, I swear.” That’s not a lie. Elise does want Rook to come. She has fully accepted the fact that I plan on marrying this girl as soon as she’s ready to commit.

It takes me another hour to get Rook up and ready and by that time Clare, Elise, and Antoine are already heading out to the restaurant where we’re gonna have lunch. “You look great, let’s go.” I jingle my truck keys at her from the front hallway, but she ignores me and just sits calmly on the couch and laces up some black work boots. Combined with her faded and ripped jeans, white t-shirt, and Shrike Bikes leather jacket, they make her look like a hot punk chick.

If we don’t get out of this fucking apartment soon I might have to jump her bones.

She catches my daydream and says, “I’m sore as shit, so stop with the
I wanna fuck you
looks.”

She walks over to me as she straightens out her jacket and I take her hand and lead her out the door and down the hallway. There’s some commotion downstairs in the studio and when we turn the corner at the stairs, Roger is messing with a large flat package. “What’s that?” I call down to him as we descend.

“That rush job for the GIDGET campaign.”

It takes me a second to figure out what he’s talking about and by that time it’s too late. He’s already ripped the brown paper off the frame and his head is tilting to the side a little as he critiques the image.

Busted.

“What the hell is
that
?” Rook asks in a huff.

She can clearly see what it is, a fucking life-sized picture of me sticking my tongue down Clare’s throat, but I usher her past in a hurry. “It’s an old photo the GIDGET people wanted to use for promo. We had it blown up so we can use it for the shoots this week.”

Even though she’s walking away from it, her eyes never leave the image. I whisk her into the stairwell and pull her out of range. “Hmmm…” is all she says.

I change the subject. “Hungry?”

“Yeah, actually I’m starving.”

She chats about lunch after that. Maybe the image is still on her mind and maybe it’s not, but she’s dropped it for now and that’s about as much as I can ask for.

The ride down to Cherry Creek Mall is uneventful beyond getting stuck in construction traffic, and by the time we make the sports bar at the mall, I’m starving as well. Antoine already got us a table and Elise is chowing down on fried cheese. Rook looks happy though, so maybe she’s gonna let the picture drop.

It’s not my fault, really. The image had to be used. I never told Rook this, but Clare was always my first pick for this contract. And we did a lot of promo stuff together to show them that I had a vision and could handle something this big on my own. That was almost a year ago now, and honestly, it never occurred to me that they’d want me to model for them. I’m the marketing manager for the campaign, I never signed anything saying I’d model. And they are certainly not paying me enough to fuck things up with Rook over some pictures. But this one was already a done deal. I had very little room since it was submitted with the project bid.

Luckily Antoine got us a table near the flat screen on the wall that’s blaring the game, so he and I concentrate on that while the girls chat. I look over at Rook a few times to see how she’s doing with Clare, but it doesn’t seem to be an issue.

Maybe I’ll get away with this fuck-up after all?

Chaper Twenty-Four - ROOK

“Adorable!” I squeal as Elise holds up a tiny blue onesie with light green sea turtles swimming across the front. It is cute but honestly, how many freaking onesies can you look at in one day and still get excited? She throws it into the waiting hands of the Gymboree sales person and continues sorting through racks of clothes. Clare is much better at this shopping stuff than I am. I’m not against shopping, I just prefer to do it online. Or have a set plan in mind when I go in. For me, shopping is more like a military exercise—get in, complete the mission, get out. Bam. Now you have the whole rest of your day to kiss your boyfriend, or eat, or watch movies.

“Hey, since we’re out, you guys wanna catch that new SF flick over at the Metroplex?”

Clare sneers at me.

I hate that bitch, I swear. I’m not really a hater, I mean I can typically find the good in just about anyone. And I’m definitely not a fighter. I prefer the whole cheek-turning thing over fists any day. But I tell you what, I’d like to slap the shit out of Clare. She is the biggest fucking kiss-ass on the planet. And she blatantly flirted with Ronin all through lunch and then had the nerve to insult my choice in food.

She called me a boring date because I always get the hamburger. So I like burgers? Just because she likes weird stuff like mushroom pecan fajitas doesn’t mean she’s not boring. Seriously, she can’t even go anywhere alone because the heroin might jump her ass and turn her back into a junkie…

OK, I went a little overboard on that one. But shit.

I huff out a long breath and busy myself shaking a baby rattle. “Hey, Elise? I’m gonna just pop over to the…” I squint out at the store across the way from Gymboree and read the sign. “Brookstone.” Yeah, that’s a much better store. They have cool shit in there. “I need some overpriced gadgets.”

“Rook, if you’re not going to help, just go back to the restaurant and watch football with the men, OK? This is a big deal for Elise.”

“Rook,” Elise counters, “I’m almost done, OK? Then we’ll go upstairs and do grownup shopping. The guys said they’ll meet us over at the baby crib store at five, so we have plenty of time.”

I smile and nod. Great, crib shopping. I’m not into thinking about this baby stuff, let alone shopping for one, and it just reminds me of how different Ronin and I really are when it comes to long-term plans. I might like a kid someday, and that’s a big maybe. But right now I’m all about
not
having a kid. I’m not ready for crib shopping, even if it isn’t for me.

We spend the next fifteen minutes checking out and then make our way upstairs to the cool level of the mall. At least there are stores here I recognize, if only because I have clothes in my closets with these names on them. Clare heads to Lucky Jeans and I follow her in while Elise rests her feet outside the store and pokes through her bags of baby clothes.

“What size are you, Rook? I’ll help you choose.”

“Noneya, Clare. I’m not an infant, I can pick out my own jeans.” Fuck, she is such a bitch. How can Ronin even like her as a person? And I can only imagine how unlikeable she was as an addict. I flip through some jeans laid out on a table and then decide this is stupid. “I don’t need any clothes, I’m going to sit with Elise.”

I walk out before she can answer and plop down next to Elise on her bench. “I’m sorry, Elise. I’m just not a shopper.”

She pats my hand like a mother. “I don’t care, Rook. And don’t let Clare get to you. She’s just high-maintenance all the time. Isn’t there anything you need while we’re here? You might as well pick up something.”

“I could use some lotion, now that I think of it.”

“Oh!” Elise squeals. “Let’s hit the Crabtree & Evelyn store, it’s just right over there.”

Lotions I can handle. Just pick out some that smell good and pay. No need to try things on or make it match your socks—just good old-fashioned plunk-it-in-the-basket-and-pay-up-front shopping. Elise calls out to Clare as we walk past, telling her where we’ll be.

“So, Rook, how are things up with Spencer and Ford? I haven’t had a chance to talk to you in weeks, it seems.”