9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Saturday
“Malachi?”
He was a hard sleeper. Uncovering such an intimate quirk made me smile. A deeply satisfied feeling settled into my chest that had nothing to do with the multiple orgasms last night.
I’d been whispering his name and running my hands over the dips and valleys of his muscled chest for over a minute, and so far his only reaction had been to grunt in his sleep, roll towards me, and scoop me up in his arms.
Even while he was asleep, he held me tightly, like he, too, was enjoying the feel of our bodies pressed together. It was early, too early, and the morning sun was just peeking over the horizon, but the huge floor-to-ceiling windows flooded everything with light.
It was annoying to be woken so early, but on the plus side, I got to lie in the massive, cozy bed and stare at him like a creeper for a few more minutes. As the room brightened just a bit more, I mentally added “buy curtains” to my to-do list. But that could wait. I had something more pressing on my mind.
“Mal,” I whispered louder, indulging in a longer sweep of my palm down his abs. He was a work of art.
“Need to re-hydrate if you want it again,” he grumbled against my neck, pulling me closer.
“No, this is more important than that.”
His breath fluttered against my clavicle, slow and steady.
“Mal?”
He grunted.
“Where the fuck is my dog?”
His eyes popped open.
***
“It’s seven a.m.”
“I know, I’m sorry. It was a reunion emergency.”
Adam, Mal’s PA and publicist, shrugged off Mal’s apology. “I was already up. I just don’t think you’ve ever called me this early on a weekend before, except for the security—” He faltered, looking at me and back to Mal.
“What security?” I asked, filling the silence that was very abrupt and very awkward. Even Siggy stopped chewing on the rope toy I held for him, eyes flicking around all the humans in the room.
Yesterday, Sigmund had stayed in a well-appointed hotel suite with Adam while Mal moved in and attended the gala. But I’d woken hungry for pancakes, Mal and my dog. Not necessarily in that order. Mal had now fulfilled two out of three requests. Our pancake order should be ready any moment for pickup.
“Just some issues that have popped up with the new building.” Mal knelt, giving Siggy’s ears a rub. “Alarms, codes.”
Adam loosed a breath through puffed cheeks. “Yeah. Codes.”
I didn’t miss the look he gave Mal, or how Mal ignored it. I chalked it up to business drama and the second I was sitting on Mal’s new, kajillion square foot balcony overlooking the city, pancakes syrup’d and Siggy chasing a ball around, I forgot about it altogether.
Sunday
“It has occurred to you that I can’t just wear your old gym clothes for the rest of my life, right?” I pulled at the oversized shirt dripping from my body. We’d just gotten back from Sigmund’s morning walk, and the only clothes I had here—a very wrinkled silk gown—hadn’t seemed appropriate for the task. Seeing as we’d barely left the apartment in the last twenty-four hours, it wasn’t a huge deal, especially because Malachi seemed to take immense pleasure in seeing me in his clothes.
But still, someone had to think about the logistics, here.
“Has it occurred to you that you don’t have to wear anything at all for the rest of your life? Think of how much time it would save.”
I rolled my eyes, grinning when his hands snuck up the shirt, making a beeline for my breasts. I still wasn’t used to the possessive, high-handed way he touched me. As if he was entitled to it. I loved it. “I’m sure my patients would be very cool about that. Not to mention my boss.”
He hummed, licking my throat. “Quit your job. Stay here and be my sex slave. I’ll buy you nice tequila and feed you tapas every night.”
“He makes a compelling argument,” I muttered to Siggy, who was ignoring us in favor of a chew toy he’d just wrestled from under the couch. I tilted my head back so Mal could place nipping bites along my jaw. “But then there will be the inevitable boredom. The lack of personal fulfillment. Resentment that you’ve taken me from a career I love. Screaming, yelling, division of assets. Etcetera, etcetera.”
Mal pulled back to look at me, brow raised. I wanted to smooth my fingers over it. “The demise of our relationship is ‘etcetera, etcetera?’ ”
“Only if you don’t let me go grab a few tank tops and my own toothpaste.”
He’d graciously gifted me a brand new toothbrush yesterday morning that he proudly displayed in the cup next to his, but I hated his toothpaste. What psycho liked cinnamon?
He sighed, looking at my neck and the wet marks still there. “Fine. Meet you down there.”
***
“It’s me.” A jingle of a collar accompanied Mal’s voice. “And Sigmund.”
“Siggy!” I called. The pup took the corner into my room hard, skidding on the gray linoleum in his rush to get to me. I scooped him into my arms, my heart filling up at his wiggly enthusiasm. He acted like it had been days since he’d seen me, not just twenty minutes.
“I’m almost done,” I hollered into the hall where Mal was following my dog at a more normal speed.
“Really?” I could hear his incredulity before he even entered the room.
“Yes.” I gestured to my duffel bag, already mostly full on the bed. I’d already packed essential toiletries. Now I was just quibbling over how many pairs of leggings to bring, which was ridiculous, because I would be back down here to get ready for work tomorrow morning. Plus, if I needed anything, I was just a short elevator ride away.
“You’re joking.” He glared at my duffel like he wanted to eviscerate it. I automatically held Siggy closer to my chest. Maybe Mal had really only expected me to bring a single change of clothes? I didn’t want to be too presumptuous, but the way things had been going the last few days, it seemed like he wanted to keep me around for a while…
Maybe I’d misread the situation.
“It’s just essentials,” I assured him. When I looked between his scowl and my bag, my stomach clenched up, but I kept talking, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation. This was Malachi I was talking to. I had always been myself around him and I wouldn’t stop now, even if there was more on the line than there used to be.
“And, alright, maybe it’s more than you need,” I babbled, “but I’m a high maintenance woman, and if that’s a problem…why are you shaking your head?”
He disappeared into the hallway, coming back a second later with a stack of three massive cardboard moving boxes. I recognized them because we’d been methodically unpacking dozens of them around his apartment over the course of the last two days.
“Kitten.” Something in his voice froze me. My eyes snapped to his as if he’d ordered them to. He leaned against the door frame, sexy as sin, and gave me a challenging look. “Pack like you’re never coming back.”
Monday
“What happened to the sex slave idea?”
Mal had been awake by the time I’d made it back into his bedroom…our bedroom?…with an espresso for him.
“As lovely as that idea seems at—” I checked my smartwatch “—five thirty in the morning on a Monday, I’ll remind you once more about the resentment and lack of personal fulfillment.”
“Right. That.” He accepted the cup from my hands, watching as I twisted my hair into a clip and applied some moisturizer in the dim lights of the bathroom. I hadn’t been worried about waking him, now that I knew he was a heavy sleeper, but I may have cursed the espresso machine in at least two different languages and one made up one. I hadn’t been quiet about it, but neither had the machine when it spit and hissed back at me.
“Coffee machine give you any trouble?” Like he could read my mind, he piped up from the bed. I refused to meet his gaze in the mirror as Siggy jumped up to snuggle into his lap. Lucky dog.
“No. All good.” I tried to sound breezy, but perhaps some of my latent anger leaked through. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I caught him smirking.
“Tutorial didn’t stick?”
“Considering yesterday’s espresso tutorial got derailed halfway through and we ended up sullying the coffee bar for all time, we should all just be impressed I got anything to come out of it.”
Mal and his coffee. He was such a snob. He’d been handling coffee for the last two days, executing the perfect vanilla latte for me as soon as I woke. His machine was a monster. Italian and complicated and shiny, so I’d been happy to leave him on barista duty this weekend.
But I couldn’t expect him to cater to me on days like today, when I was leaving so early for the hospital. And it would be nice, sometimes, for me to make the coffee for him. He worked so hard and was so perfect and gave me so many orgasms . He deserved it.
“I am impressed. It’s delicious.”
“You’re just saying that.” I padded to him and leaned over the bed. He willingly tilted his cup to give me a sip. I considered it as the brew swirled in my mouth.
“Not bad, I guess. I’ll get better with practice.”
His eyes dropped to my lips. I tilted forward for a kiss, easy, comfortable, like we’d done this every day for years.
“Come on,” he leaned away, setting his cup on the nightstand. “I’ll walk you out.”
Between walking Siggy and bouts of very energetic sex, we’d worked a little magic on his new apartment. Most of the boxes were unpacked. We’d spent yesterday afternoon grunting and sweating, moving furniture around his living room until it was just the way we wanted it.
Then spent the evening grunting and sweating on the furniture.
His cream sectional and navy pillows looked inviting against the backdrop of his massive windows. We’d ordered curtains for some of the rooms, but those wouldn’t get in till later this week. A huge print of the Rocky mountains broke up some of the white monotony of the hallway. We’d made good headway on his office. His…our?…bedroom was done. Even my extra leggings were folded neatly, looking ridiculous by themselves on an empty half of the closet that he’d refused to put his things on. Mine, I supposed.
I hugged Sigmund to me while I walked to the front door, grabbing my work bag. I’d only been here for two days and it already felt more like home than anywhere else I’d ever lived. My heart hurt to walk out the doors and leave it.
“It’s stupid how much I don’t want you to leave right now.” Mal read my mind again. We paused by the front door. We’d need some shelves here. Hooks for bags. A little bowl for keys.
I sighed. “I’m thinking the same thing, trust me.” I rubbed my cheek against Siggy’s head and set him down. Mal put his arms around me. Maybe the apartment felt like home, but this felt like…finding a part of myself I hadn’t known was missing.
“I’ll be back a little after four.”
“And we’ll be here, a little before four, whining at the door while we wait.”
The image he conjured made me grin. I leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to leave your office early for me. I’ll hang out here till you get home from work.”
At four-twenty-seven, I walked in the door to find Siggy, tail wagging so hard his body shuddered, and Mal, doing an equally ridiculous and excited shimmy while holding a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.
Wednesday
“What do you think about this?” We were watching TV in his bedroom, new curtains pulled closed to block out the lights of the city, curled up on his California King and scrolling through our phones every once in a while. Millennial heaven.
I glanced at his screen to see a large, antique-looking wooden apothecary cabinet. Round, blown-glass knobs glittered on each of the dozens of little, square drawers.
“That’s nice. What’s it for?”
His chin jutted toward a box in the closet. One of the only ones we’d yet to unpack. The one he’d personally packed, himself, kneeling on my bedroom floor and rolling each toy in clean bubble wrap. Nestling them carefully into the cardboard. “The collection, of course.”
I’d told him he was being ridiculous. We didn’t even need the toys. Not with all the action we were making ourselves. Yes, I was sore now and no, that didn’t slow us down at all. But he’d insisted, hovering protectively over the massive box of vibrators with a tragic look on his face. “Rija, they’re family.”
Needless to say, the vibrators had made the trek with me to the upper floors.
Still, it was one thing to box them up for sentimental reasons and keep them in the closet. This was another thing altogether.
“You want to house the collection? In its own…furniture?”
“I told you I’d give you a dresser.”
I blinked at him, then back down at the phone. “You…I…you can’t buy me a dresser for my vibrators.”
He looked at me like I was insane. “I can buy you vibrators, but you draw the line at storage?”
“It’s…” I floundered, not sure why I felt so taken aback by his suggestion. Maybe because him literally buying me a dresser for his place seemed like a big step for us to be taking so casually. Even though we’d moved three boxes of clothes and stuff from my apartment up here, I still technically lived downstairs, with Sonia, who we still hadn’t told about our new situation. She was too busy living it up in New York, and we were too busy in heaven.
Or maybe I balked because the toys had been our dirty little secret for so long. It boggled my mind that he wanted to make a place especially for them, not shove them in the back of the closet or an empty drawer. He wasn’t just making room for them; he was creating a whole space for them.
“Talk to me, Sanchez. You don’t like it?” He cocked his head, patient. Curious.
“No, I do…It’s pretty much perfect, actually…” It was. I could already envision it in the room, right there by the closet. It was gorgeous and had a price tag that spoke to its craftsmanship.
“Pretty much?”
“Well…” I blinked back down at the picture. “Is it too big? I don’t think I have that many.”
He scoffed. “Kitten, just because I’m sleeping with you doesn’t mean you stop getting presents.” He navigated to the checkout page. “We’ll fill this up. Maybe we should get two.”
Laughter sputtered out of me because it was the only defense I had for the surge of feelings breaking through the surface of my chest and blocking out rational thought. “Oh, really?”
“It’s called having your cake and eating it, too.”
I called it being in love with an amazing man who somehow knew what I wanted before I did and made me feel more cherished and important than anyone in the world ever had.
But we’d only just started touching last week. Regardless of our history together, it felt too soon to rocket to the next step like that. I’d been waiting months for this. To just lay in bed, wrapped up in his arms, doing nothing.
So, I had no words for him. Certainly not the ones I wanted to say. I ended up tackling him, instead, and riding him until the only words he had were my name.
Thursday
“What’s the point of having your own business if you can’t play hooky?”
Mal looked up from a dusty desk, grinning. “What are you doing here?”
He’d tried to stay home since I had the day off, but more emergencies kept popping up, and he hadn’t been able to swing it.
I dangled a takeout bag in his direction. “Hungry?”
He rounded the desk, pulling me into his arms for a kiss. “You brought me lunch?”
“Well, everyone’s…gotta eat, right?” I managed to get out around his seeking lips.
He pulled back, eyes darting back and forth between mine. Something in his expression made me pause. He was tense. Nervous? That tightness clamped around my stomach, accompanied by a voice in my head telling me I had overstepped. Done too much. Been too much. Again.
“Is that okay? I can just drop it and run if yo—”
I didn’t get a chance to finish before his mouth was on mine again. He kissed me urgently, like one of us was about to board a plane. It felt desperate, and not in a good way. I pulled back, stroking the line between his brows. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He nuzzled his nose into my neck. “Nothing, just… work stuff.”
“More moving crises?”
“Mmm,” he nodded, hands circling around to the small of my back. I spread my fingers through his hair, guilt pricking at me.
“I’m sorry. I can’t help feel a little responsible. I mean, you’re kind of moving here for me, and it’s been nothing but drama.”
He pulled out of my grasp, hands on my shoulders, eyes more serious than I’d ever seen them. “This is not your fault. Never think that. Ever, alright? I made this choice for me. For us. You are not causing these…issues.”
“O-okay…” I stuttered. He studied me, like he wanted to make sure his point sunk in. “Alright. I’ll stop feeling bad.”
“Good. Good.” His eyes went hazy. Even though he was looking at me, I got the feeling he wasn’t fully present.
“Do you want to talk about it? It seems like this is starting to really weigh you down.”
His head shook. “No. I actually don’t want to think about this at all. I want to have lunch with a beautiful woman and think about other stuff.”
I hesitated. He hadn’t shared any specifics of what was going on with his clinic. The building around us was beautiful. It was still being renovated, as the plaster dust and construction equipment could attest to, but shaping up. I could visualize it—the cozy, classy atmosphere would put people at ease here. A place of respite. Self-reflection. It seemed like it was all coming along fine. All the workers moved like a well-oiled machine. Adam had winked at me from his desk out front.
Nothing seemed like it was on fire, but every night this week, Mal had come home with knots in his shoulders, tense until I could get him to wind down.
Still, if he wanted a break, I could provide it. I held the takeout bag up. “I’ve got the lunch and the woman. What do you want to talk about?”
I squeaked when he swept me off my feet and hauled me up against his desk with a smile.
Friday
Mal drew the line at Siggy sleeping in the bed with us. He said he’d waited too long to have me all to himself to share me, even with the dog. Plus, Siggy wasn’t house-trained yet. I conceded both points were valid, even though I hated to miss out on his warm puppy snuggles.
On days I didn’t go to work before the sun came up, Mal took Siggy down to the apartment courtyard to do his morning business, then let him wriggle into bed with me.
Yesterday, Siggy and I had snoozed together in the Egyptian cotton sheets for a few hours after Mal had gone to work, taken a long walk around the city, and then hung out on the balcony for most of the afternoon.
An almost perfect day, really. Just missing Mal. And Sonia. I hadn’t gone this long without her in a long time. It didn’t help that I’d had to sprint back down to our apartment twice this week to return her FaceTime calls. I couldn’t risk her getting suspicious, not when she’d only been gone for two weeks.
Mal and I would start soft-launching our relationship with her soon. Like he’d said, pictures together, maybe a mention of a dinner out on our group thread. Every time I thought about it, my heart sank like a stone, the familiar, guilty feeling roiling in my stomach. That queasy sensation doubled whenever I realized that sometimes, I was too caught up in Mal to feel guilty, at all.
I could only hope that when all this went down, she’d be understanding. Angry, at first, probably, but…hopefully she’d come around. I couldn’t think about the alternative.
Mal softly lifting Siggy out of his crate had woken me early. The thought of my best friend, and the potential consequences of my actions with her brother, had kept me from drifting back to sleep.
The bedroom door opened, and Siggy wiggled into bed next to me, as he had yesterday. Today, though, Mal slid back under the covers, too. He gathered both me and the dog in his arms.
“Hey, Dr. Do-Right. You gotta work today.” I reminded him, turning to snuggle deeper into him, Siggy burrowing between us. Maybe we could squeeze in a few more minutes like this. Our little family.
“Mmmm, what if I just don’t?”
I laughed, tracing the sprinkling of hair on his chest. “If you don’t go into work, who’s going to look pretty in front of the camera? Those TikToks don’t make themselves, you know.”
“Sure, but as someone very wise and gorgeous and fucking sexy once told me, ‘ what’s the point of having your own business if you can’t play hooky?’”
I pulled back, laughing when Siggy squirmed in between us to rest his nose on the pillow. But Mal wasn’t laughing. His eyes crinkled at the corners in a hint of a smile, but he looked too serious to pull it off.
All week, he’d come home with a weight pressing on him. He tried to hide it, but I could tell how much this move was taking a toll on him. Maybe even his business.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I ran my fingers across the lines etching his forehead. He avoided the question and my gaze by ducking to nuzzle his face into my shoulder.
“Mal?”
His breath blew hot against my skin, and sounded like surrender. “I’m just tired, Ri.” His nose brushed back and forth over my skin. “Everything is so up in the air. I just…want a break. Even if it’s for a day.”
When he finally looked up at me, his dark lashes framed pleading eyes. “I don’t wanna go to work.” He pouted, but that quiet resignation still hung around him like a thundercloud.
“Things are really that bad?” Malachi Dobrev never gave up. On anything. Even if it was only for a day. He’d be the first to tell his patients that they needed to practice self-care and slow down if they needed it, but his fatal flaw was his dogged determination to save the world, or die trying. I’d never seen him like this before.
“Just…things that need time. Things out of my control.” His forehead pressed into my shoulder once more.
I shuttled my fingers through his hair. “My poor little perfectionist. Finally found something you can’t manage into submission by sheer force of will?” I teased, hoping to get a smile out of him. His only response was to press a kiss against my skin. I waited another moment, my fingers gliding through his hair.
“It’ll be okay, Mal,” I whispered, pressing my lips to the crown of his head. A sigh shuddered out of him again.
“You don’t mind if I crash your off day?”
I could hardly hear him, he was pressed so tightly into me. I frowned down at him, wondering where my confident, assured boyfriend had gone? Maybe distraction was the key. If he just needed a break from the real world, I could do that.
“Hmm. Actually, you might be able to help me out. See, I had ‘give someone a blowjob’ on my to-do list today, so I’m looking for a volunteer. Any chance you’d be interested?”
His head rose enough to meet my gaze. His face looked hot and dark. Progress.
“Sigmund, go to your crate,” Mal ordered, his eyes flicking down to the dog when he didn’t move an inch from the pillow. They stared at each other. “Siggy. Crate.”
Mal snapped his fingers and Siggy finally hopped up with a grumbling whine, jumping off the bed to settle into his crate. A good trick. We’d been working on it all week.
“I think I can be of service,” Mal growled. I grinned at him, already sinking beneath the covers.
“I think I’m the one doing the servicing here, actually.”
He groaned.