The Kissing Coach (17 page)

“None of us are brand-new puppies,” I said as I pulled my notebook out of my purse. “Looks like you've accomplished all the goals we set out.”

“But I haven't lost ten pounds.”

I smiled and put away the notebook. “Does that goal really matter to you now? You're eating healthier food and working out more. You look fantastic.”

“I guess it's just a number,” she said.

“I can refer you to a personal coach who specializes in fitness. To be honest, I ate an entire pizza and two root beer floats and slept on the couch with the TV on last night.”

She gasped and pretended to be surprised. “You mean you're not perfect?”

“As much as it pains me to admit, it turns out I'm not.”

“What do we do now?” she asked. “I'm going to miss you and our meetings.”

“Me too. I'm not charging your for today, by the way. I'm just here as a friend.”

She tipped her head to the side and waved her hand in front of her face. As I tried to figure out what was happening, a tear rolled down her cheek.

She choked out, “That's so kind of you.”

“You are one of my nicest clients, and I really mean it. Working with you has been fun.”

Now she was full-on crying. She squeaked out, “Hug?”

I got up from my seat and circled around to her.

She squeezed me tight, and even though I was happy to have helped a client, there was still one who was on my mind. Devin Nelson. He and I weren't finished yet.

It took me five more days to stew, five days to analyze every nuance of our awkward meeting in the filing supplies aisle, five days to decide I'd had enough of not knowing. Was he kissing the chef? Had he been pining for another woman all along?

Drastic action was required. I didn't just call or text Devin Nelson.

I marched right into the hotel and asked to speak with him.

The young man at the front desk looked guilty and worried.

“I'm not a guest,” I explained. “Just a friend.”

Someone behind me said, “Feather Hilborn.”

I turned around to see Devin Nelson, standing right behind me in the lobby.

He said, “Are you on your way to yoga?”

I looked down at my dress and cute shoes. Was he kidding?

I said, “No. Are you on your way to jogging?”

He wore a red, striped dress-shirt and gray slacks, but he did look down, same as me.

“Not dressed like this,” he said. “Are you here to check up on me?”

This wasn't going to go the way our last meeting did. I had to get to the point. If only my mouth would say the words.

“You look good,” he said. “Your hair. You got bangs.”

“I've had bangs for years now.”

“Guess I'm not very observant.”

Ask him, said the voice in my head, my little dating coach.

My voice squeaked out, “Did you get my letter? In the mail?”

His face neutral, he said, “No. I got a Post-It Note.” He turned to the guy at the front desk and said, “She sent me a Post-It Note.”

The guy looked from Devin's face to mine, then back again. “I don't understand. Am I in trouble? Because Larry said I could eat the leftover cinnamon buns, but then he took my picture when I was eating the third one, and he said it was for evidence.”

Devin smiled. “Don't believe anything Larry says. That's why we don't let him on the front desk.”

“Oh.”

Devin turned to me. “How about a tour?”

I wanted to yell at him for not cashing my check and making me come all the way down to his hotel on the hottest day in August, but the air conditioning was having a soothing effect on me. Plus he was so cute.

“Sure,” I said, and I followed him as he gave me a tour.

The hotel was not huge, but as I followed along, I was struck by how much responsibility it would be to run the place and to oversee so many employees—dozens of them, all ages. They treated their boss with deference, and the women all appeared to be in love with him. Who could blame them? The man had it all: looks, style, confidence. Great ass.

As he spoke, I tried hard not to think about kissing him. When we were in the elevator together, alone, I tried hard not to think about leaning my body against his and letting my hands go where they wanted.

We went all the way down to the “heart of the machine,” where he showed me the laundry facilities and the boiler room.

The air was moist and hot, even hotter than it had been outside in the sun. I could feel my thighs sticking together under my thin cotton skirt, and my cheeks flushing red.

We stopped in a narrow hallway, underneath giant pipes and ducts, and he turned to me.

“Feather, I should have called.”

“I didn't call either.”

“I wanted you to.”

Feeling hot and sticky, I crossed and uncrossed my arms.

My voice thin and breaking, I said, “I missed you.”

He pulled something from his pocket—my check. And the yellow note.

“
Dear Devin
,” he read.

“Don't.”

He continued reading, “
I'm sorry I didn't help you.
”

I started to say something, probably to apologize, but he stopped me, holding up his hand.

“This isn't true and you know it,” he said. “There are many ways one person can help another, and you did the two most beautiful things anyone has ever done for me. First of all, you opened that vault I keep hidden inside, and you showed me that along with the pain, I'd locked away the light. I wasn't afraid of kissing someone and being rejected.”

“You weren't? But ...”

“It wasn't fear of rejection. It was the opposite—the fear of
not
being rejected. Of having to be close to someone. To open myself to them.”

“Oh.” I fidgeted with my feather necklace. “I guess you're seeing someone now who's helping you sort things out?”

“I am.” He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wall, a slight smile on his face. “Don't worry. It's a guy.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Okay. You said I did … two things?”

His face got serious. “Right. This one's hard to talk about.” He coughed. “You, um, cared about me. Without wanting anything in return. I'm not saying this because you sent me the check, either. I could tell you cared right from our first meeting. My staff … they respect me, but I'm their boss. And my family is great, but they're family. I've been so busy the last few years, running this place, that most of my friends have drifted away.” He looked straight at me, his dark brown eyes glistening. “I didn't realize how lonely I'd been until I had you in my life. You were like air. Like sun.”

Despite the heat in that hallway, my forearms bristled with goosebumps.

After a moment, I said, “And here I came to yell at you for not cashing my check. Then you have to go and say all those really nice things. Now I'm the jerk.”

“Feather, may I kiss you?”

I shook my head. “No. I'm done being the kissing coach.”

“Not as a coach.” He took two steps toward me. “I want to kiss you to show you how I feel about you.”

I laughed, my voice still squeaky. “I hear people do that.”

He caught my hands in his and moved in closer. My back was against the cool, concrete wall.

“You're nervous,” he said.

“So are you.”

He looked down at my lips, and he leaned forward. I tilted my face up.

Our lips touched, and I felt a sizzle of energy snake through me.

My arms wrapped up around his shoulders, and he pulled me into him.

Both of us breathed heavily, breathing as one, and his hands were hot and moist on my back as he ground his hips into mine. I moaned into his lips, and soon he was kissing my throat, unbuttoning my cotton dress, and kissing me between my breasts.

We paused just long enough for him to lead me over to a workshop area and set me up on a workbench.

He stood before me, between my legs as I sat. We kissed some more, and I unfastened his belt. I wanted our skin to touch. I wanted to lose the distance between us. His pants fell to the floor with a thud.

“Wallet and cell phone,” he said as he finished unbuttoning the front of my dress.

I pulled him into me, and wrapped my legs around him, both of us in nothing but our underwear.

He sucked on my neck as I ran my fingertips up and down his beautiful back.

“I don't have a condom,” he said.

“I'm already on birth control, to help with my cycle. I've been tested for everything, and I haven't been with anyone but you in years.”

He pulled back and blinked at me.

I continued, “How about you?”

“If you're asking if I've been with anyone else since my first time with you, the answer is … are you kidding me? How could anyone ever top that? I mean, of course not.”

I covered my face with my hands, feeling shy. “Well, I don't know. I mean, it's been a while.”

“It's been one hundred days since I saw you.”

I pulled my hands away from my face and stared into his brown eyes. I could lose myself in those dark eyes.

He took my hand in his and kissed my forearm, then all the way up to my shoulder. As he pressed his body against mine, he said, “I want to make love to you.”

“Oh.”

“Because I think I'm
in
love with you.”

“That would explain the counting of the days.”

He kissed my lips, then said, “You're so cheeky.”

“I did lose track of the days, but my heart is beating like a little rabbit's. I think I might be in love with you, too.”

He hugged me, burying his face in my hair next to my neck. “I was so worried you didn't feel it too. I didn't dare call. I kept putting it off, but I shouldn't have. I'm so stupid.”

I ran my hands through his soft, black hair. “Doesn't matter. I'm here now.” I looked around the room, at the assortment of tools hanging from the walls and the stacks of cardboard boxes, some of them labeled
Xmas Decorations
.

We were in one of the most beautiful boutique hotels in the city, and Devin had access to all the rooms, and here we were, down in the tool shop, and it was perfect. Just perfect.

He kissed his way down my chest, then helped me wriggle out of my panties.

Still seated on the work table, I ran my fingers over his bare chest, over his chest muscles and taut abs, and then I pulled down his underwear.

He ran his fingertips up and down the spot between my legs, wet and swollen for him. He stopped on my nub and rubbed it in a circle as he leaned down to kiss me. As our tongues touched, I felt pressure on my opening.

He moaned into my mouth, a sound that seemed like a question.

His fingers kept circling, sending wave after aching wave of pleasure through my body.

I responded to his wordless question by grabbing his ass with both hands and pulling him into me.

As his whole erection slid easy into me, filling me, I gasped and started to come immediately.

He rocked gently in and out, still working me with his finger, and soon I was moaning into his soft lips, shuddering with pleasure, from the inside of me where he was, and all the way to the back of my skull.

He started moving faster and harder, both of us sweating and grunting now, and with a gasp, he paused and then shook, coming inside me.

I held him against me.

The space between us was gone.

After a moment, I took his hand from between us, kissed his fingertips, and then placed his hand on my back. We hugged, holding each other tighter and tighter, me with my legs wrapped around him.

My life had just changed.

“We're together,” he whispered.

“Together.”

I got a serious case of the giggles as I put my clothes back on, picking my bra off the top of a miter saw.

“Look at that,” Devin said as he swiped some sawdust off the back of my thigh.

“Disgraceful.”

“Girl, you make me crazy. I see you buttoning up that dress, and I want to take it back off again.”

I pretended to be prim and proper. “Sheesh. Maybe you should buy a girl dinner.”

He grabbed me in a hug, still shirtless, his skin so hot under my hands. “Every night,” he said. “I will buy you dinner every night, forever.”

“Except for when it's my treat, which will be half the time.”