Reservation (Preservation Series) (10 page)

“Good.” Finally, his eyes lifted to mine, and there was an undercurrent there. An unspoken warning. Though there was no comparing the roles we both played in Kate’s life, he’d just passed a torch, and I could feel the weight of a thousand suns pressing down on me, willing me not to drop it. Kate was mine. I knew this, and I intended to keep it that way. But I couldn’t deny the truth staring me in the face.

Carter was a better man than me.

I didn’t understand why Kate couldn’t see that, why she chose me instead, but I wasn’t about to point it out for her.

***

“You sound so stressed, babe. Talk to me.” Kate’s voice was muffled as she messed with the covers. She was already settling into bed, and our time difference was really starting to mess with me. It made catching up with each other harder, always short on time or missing each other’s calls completely.

I’d just finished filling her in on my latest TV interview and the crazy schedule I’d endured over the past few weeks. Settling onto the couch with some wine, I set my laptop on the cushion next to me, and sprawled out to prop a leg on the coffee table. I doubted I’d get much writing done tonight, but I was determined to try. Aside from swimming, it seemed to be the only thing that helped me relax lately. My writing zone was my comfort zone. What I wanted to happen happened, the way I wanted it to happen. It never veered off course unless I said it could.

“I don’t want to talk about me. Tell me about your day.”

“Well, I worked all day, and then had a phone meeting with Bob. The final edits are just about wrapped up, so that means we’re getting closer. I told him I’d meet with him next weekend when I come in town to look for a dress.”

“Good. You can get some business done while you’re in town, then. Two birds with one stone and all that.” I took a sip of wine and set the glass down. “So, no more outings with your male co-workers, I hope.”

“Still no luck with Carter?”

“Don’t dodge that statement.”

“Oh, it was a statement? It sounded more like a chastising accusation to me.”

“Kate.”

“Ryan.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t like any male who breathes the same air as me.”

I was about to say I liked Carter, but held my tongue. “Are you naked?”

“Don’t change the subject. Have you made any progress with him? He still won’t talk to me about the whole issue. Said he won’t until we’re face to face.”

“Just give me a visual, and I’ll answer your question.” There was no answer, but instead rustling on the line, then moments later, a small ding alerting me to a new picture text message. I opened it, staring down at the screen in complete shock. “Fuck, Kate!” I put the phone back to my ear.

“Visual enough for you?”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“I can think of worse ways to die.”

“Shit,” I huffed, immediately undoing my belt to grip and stroke myself. “You expect me to concentrate after that? I’m about to fucking explode over here now.”

“You promised. Now answer my question.”

I groaned, shutting my eyes. It was bad enough I’d been jerking off like a fourteen-year – old again since I’d left her in St. Lucia. She’d turned me into a starved man, my body aching in ways I never knew possible. Now that picture was just plain cruel.

“You wicked, wicked woman.”

“What do I need to do to get you to answer my question? Normally I’d just wrestle you until I’d get the information I want, but our distance is to my disadvantage, Mr. Campbell.”

“You miss grappling with me, don’t you?” I grinned into the phone.

“Ry, please?”

Not only was I insanely distracted now, I also wanted to avoid talking about Carter as long as possible. He told me to pretend our conversation never happened, that he saw no point in letting Kate know I’d encouraged him to leave Seattle. But I knew Kate. She’d want details, and if I didn’t give them to her, she’d figure out soon enough that I didn’t try to stop her best friend from moving. Her perceptiveness knew no bounds.

So, I welcomed the distraction.

“Come with me. Come on, baby, touch yourself. Let me hear you.”

“I’ll let you hear the sound of the phone hanging up if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

I shifted to pull my shirt and shoes off, then my pants. “Tell you what,” I dropped back to the couch, “you come with me, and I promise to be a good boy for the duration of this phone call. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“Ryan, you don’t have the slightest idea of what being a good boy entails.” She sounded amused.

“So you agree?”

Her exasperation leaked through the phone. I kept badgering her until she finally complied, her frustrated tone melting away and evolving into a soft thrum as she started touching herself. I put her on speaker, could practically taste her through the phone, and damn, the image she sent me as an aid was pure torture. Cradling the phone in my free hand, I let my gaze crawl over the picture, relishing each shadow the dim light cast over her curves as I resumed stroking myself.

“God, I want your mouth on me,” she whispered, her breath catching. “I miss you.”

“Oh, baby, when I get you home, I’m going to fuck you six ways to Sunday, just you wait. You have no idea what this distance is doing to me.” She let out a satisfied murmur, and my cock ached with the mere thought of her fingers moving between her legs. “Talk to me.”

Her voice went all soft and husky, dancing over my skin in sweeping waves. “Oh, now you want to talk?”

“Don’t tease me.”

“Fine, close your eyes.”

“Hell no, I’m staring at your picture. Tell me what you’re doing to me.”

“I’m on my knees, just the way you like it. And you?”

My groan traveled down the length of my torso. “You’re on top. I have your hips.”

Apparently liking that visual, she moaned, and I couldn’t control myself then. The speed of my strokes increased. I kept working back and forth with precise, forceful pulls, envisioning her wet mouth on me as I moved. Her moist lips caressed my shaft, brushing then sucking in an agonizing rhythm while my fingers glided through her hair.

There was no way I was going to hold out for long. Seeing her legs spread wide and her hand cupping her breast in this picture was enough to have me coming in seconds, let alone hearing her as she worked her own clit. God, I missed this woman. Every cell in my body hungered for her, and I doubted she had any idea how strongly she affected me.

“My tongue’s swirling around.
Mmmm
...you taste so good.”

My breath jumped, imagining the sensation. “I’m leaning up to reach your neck, sucking as you ride me, you feel it?”

“Yes
.
”

“Don’t stop, baby, imagine me underneath you. You’re gripping my shoulders and rolling your hips.”

“Harder...”

“Faster...”

“
Please
...”

“That’s it, Kate...”

“Ry...shit, I’m close.”

Energy crackled and a sheen of sweat broke out across my chest. I splayed my legs wider, my feet planted firmly on the floor as I pounded my cock into my fist, eyes never leaving the phone resting in my free hand. “Oh, fuck yeah, baby. Keep going, come on. I need to hear it.”

My heart was hammering wildly now, every muscle in my torso contracting as my body’s tension built, winding me up into a tight, taut spring, just waiting to snap. Her labored breaths were filling the silence of the apartment, lighting it up like fireworks, each pant and gasp reaching deeper and deeper down into me, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until I couldn’t hold on.

The spring snapped and vibrated, sending my head falling back against the couch and my knees shaking. I groaned and tensed, then relaxed into the aftershocks of my orgasm, surfing the final waves and taking in the sounds of her own climax as I coasted to a halt.

She ended on a delicious sound. Part contented sigh, part moan. “That was...”

“Fan-fucking-tastic. That’s what it was.” I finally allowed my eyes to close, readjusting my grip on the phone and resting my free arm on the back of the couch. “I need to see you.”

“You’ll see me next weekend.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to work. I’m taking a flight out there this weekend instead. On Friday.”

“What?” Her voice regained some life. “When were you going to tell me this?”

“I just decided.”

“Ryan, it’s a fortune.”

“We have money, now. Better get used to it.” I wasn’t rich by any means, but my parents were comfortable and had been generous since I went away to college, and I’d been fortunate to work at one of the best paying universities in the state. My recent good fortune in the publishing world had only added to those luxuries.

“I’ll never get used to that.”

“Well you’ll learn to when we start looking at places. We have to pick one soon.”

“I know.”

“So let’s start looking. This weekend, when I get to the island. We’ll surf the real estate sites and make some calls.”

“Don’t you have press stuff lined up this weekend?”

“Nope, I have Friday through Sunday off. So it’ll be a quick trip, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Okay, I won’t try and stop you if that’s what you want to do.”

“It’s what I want to do.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see you. So how did things go with Carter?”

“He has his mind made up, Kate. You guys will have to talk it out when you’re in town, that’s all I’ve got for you.”

“Did he tell you the real reason he’s doing this? I don’t buy it that he just wants a change. Something happened, and I can’t believe he’s not telling me.”

“I think you should talk to him about it. Really, it would be better if it came from him.”

“Oh no, you don’t. You swore you’d tell me everything I wanted to know, and I know he told you something. I’ve tried talking to him. It gets me nowhere.”

“We talked, and yeah, he told me some things.”

“Like?”

“Like the fact that he really does want a change, that it’s time for him to move on. It’s a personal thing, babe. You don’t have to get it, but he needs your support.” I left out the the fact that he’d blatantly admitted he loved her. I was pretty sure she already knew this, but sometimes I wondered if she knew just how deep that love really went.

“Needs my support? The whole thing is insane, and it’s completely impulsive.”

“If I recall, you flying to St. Lucia on a whim when we broke up was pretty impulsive. He supported you anyway, didn’t he? Do you really think it’s fair of you to react this way when you left the way you did?”

“I never said I was being fair, but I can’t help the way I feel. This is different, Ry. Impulsive is not new for me. But for Carter, it’s—wait a minute. Did you even try to talk him into staying? Because it’s starting to sound like—”

“Shit, Danny’s calling, babe. Gotta go!”

“Ryan Campbell! You said you’d be good!”

“I don’t have the slightest idea of what being good entails. Love you, babe. Bye.” I hung up, dropping the phone on the couch like it was about to burn me. I flinched when it started ringing, but one glance at the caller ID had me picking it up again.

Well I’ll be damned, Danny really was calling.

“Danny? What’s up?”

“Hey, Ryan, are you sitting down?”

“Uh...yeah, why?”

“You haven’t heard? Looks like you’re going to be a father.”

5. DETOUR

Good thing I didn’t have a mouthful of wine, because I would’ve spit it all over myself when I heard Danny’s news. He wanted to share the details on the phone, but I wasn’t having any of that. I insisted on cleaning up, changing clothes, and zipping out of the apartment to meet him down at Pike’s Market, where he was running some errands before heading home.

We met at Piroshky Piroshky, where he was picking up Oscar’s Stars to bring home to Neda. It was her favorite thing on the menu, and also happened to be my weakness. Piroshky Piroshky was the best Russian Bakery in town. Well worth the wait, no matter how long the line.

“You owe me,” Danny mumbled, handing me a boxed Star. “I’m now short one Star and Neda won’t be happy. Don’t have time to get back in line. I bring these home once a week, and if she doesn’t get her fix, the claws start coming out. It’s not pretty.” We squeezed in at the counter and dug in, talking in between mouthfuls.

“Well?”

“You’re in hot water, Ryan. Already. I warned you it would be a matter of time before they start digging things up on you. It comes with the territory. Nothing to be alarmed about yet.”

“But this is ridiculous, what do these people possibly care about my private life?”

“Is it ridiculous?” He eyed me, wiping a speck of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

“Of course it is,” I spat, my fork stilling at my lips.

His eyebrows rose. “You’ve admitted to having a sordid past with your students. It’s best if you come out with it and let me know if there’s any real possibility to this claim, because I need to know everything so I know how to handle the press.”