Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
AMBUSH
Omar
Layel’s text comes on a day where everything has gone wrong.
I text back. They’ve been playing house for years.
I ignore that last text.
That makes me sit up straight.
I’m stunned silent and knocked nearly breathless by her bombshell.
I open my phone app to my favorites and call the first name on the list.
My dad picks up on the first ring. “Omar?”
“Hi, Dad.” I don’t know why I expected his voice to sound different after all this time, but it doesn’t. And the months we haven’t talked melt away.
“I guess you’ve heard the news.”
“All of it. Yes. You’re leaving the Fund?”
“Yes. I was only there because we were doing it together.”
“We were hardly doing it together. You ran it. I was the face of it.”
“You were the energy behind it. At least for me. And with you gone, it’s not worth the sacrifices I made to take it.”
“I’m not gone, Dad, and we’re still doing it together. I just needed a break. And I’ve been addressing the items you send my way.”
He sighs. “Listen, everyone knows we’re not on speaking terms, and this tantrum you’ve thrown has undermined my authority.”
“Tantrum? My mother died, and I found out you’d been lying to me for more than a decade. I haven’t taken a break from work since I was fifteen. And if your email wasn’t effective, you could have picked up the phone anytime and called me.”
“Frankly, I’m not ready to speak with you either, son. Until you can apologize to me, I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to. I know you’re grieving, and I understand that you need a break. But I’m not going to put my life on hold for you. I’ll give you until the end of the year.”
My disappointment in his attempt to make himself the aggrieved party is only outweighed by my anger. “You know, this might actually be for the best.”
“What?” He sounds shocked.
“You’ve done an incredible job, but maybe it’s time for me to have a CEO who understands who he works for.”
“I’ve given up everything for you.”
“No, but you forced my mother to. And then you turned your back on her.”
“I didn’t force her to do anything. She made her choices.”
“I don’t want to rehash this, Dad.”
“Fine,” he snaps. “You know…you’ve made me so proud your entire life. I used to think it wasn’t possible for you to disappoint me. How wrong I was.” He hangs up.
Fuck. This has gone from bad to worse. My gut twisted when Layel said he was leaving. But after that conversation, I really do think it’s for the best. He doesn’t respect me, and I’m too angry still.
I rub my temples to try and ease the pounding between them. I don’t want to think about any of that shit. I came here so I didn’t have to.
I pick up the phone again to text Jules and then put it back down. I’m in a weird mood, and I’m not sure even her bright smile is enough to lift it. And I don’t want to take it out on her.
But damn. I miss her.
She’s a fireball of mystery and magic and is as complicated and clever as she is beautiful. She enchants and terrifies me. I’ve dated women who’ve made me feel both of those things, but never all at once.
I’ve also never spent this much time getting to know someone I wanted to sleep with. We’ve even established a routine. We eat dinner out unless it’s Monday or Thursday when she’s behind the bar. Those nights I walk down to the pub and wait for her to get off. We go up to her place and watch TV. Or just talk—about everything from politics to prose. And we laugh. A lot.
She hasn’t complained about me being a homebody. She hasn’t asked me to buy her anything. I haven’t read any of the personal things I’ve told her about me in the gossip sheets. She’s always game when I ask her out. She texts just to say hello. She’s perfect.
And damn, I miss her. It’s Saturday night. We didn’t have plans, but we never really do. And I haven’t heard from her since this morning.
I send her a text: “Where are you?”
A text comes right back.
“Outside.”
“Outside, what?”
“Your house. Come to the window.”
I lean over my sofa and pull the curtain back to look down at the street. Her head is tilted up, her eyes scanning the row of windows for my face. I tap on the glass, and she waves.
I am not keen on unannounced visitors. And the lower level of the house is still a construction site. But the instant I see her, I know I was wrong. Her smile is a cure for everything. And right now, I’m happier to see her than I think I’ve been to see anyone in my whole life.
“One second.” I text her and take a quick inventory of my place. It looks the way it always does, which is barely lived in. There’s a loud rumble of thunder, and I stop dawdling, sniff my armpits, and press the button that unlocks the front door. I walk out onto the landing and am halfway down the stairs just as the door signals that it’s open.
When I get to the bottom, Jules is standing in my foyer as fresh as a daisy and prettier than anyone has a right to be on a gloomy Saturday night.
She’s wearing a T-shirt that reads “Not Your Princess” gathered and tied in a knot at her midriff. And any irony created by her silver leggings and her sparkly pink trainers is quashed by the fire in her eyes.
“What’re you doing here?” I call as I descend the narrow staircase.
“I made some candles. With neroli oil.” She holds up a small brown bag. I take it from her.
“Wow, for me?”
She nods. “A housewarming gift.”
I’m touched by her thoughtfulness and open the bag to have a peek at the two glass jars inside. “Thank you. As you can see, this level isn’t ready for visitors, but they’ll do great upstairs.”
“Is that why you haven’t asked me over?” she asks but doesn’t quite meet my eyes before she turns to survey the first floor of my house.
“Yeah, but you’re welcome any time. Seriously.”
Her smile is sheepish when she looks at me again. “Thank you. I’d love to see it during the day. Those stained-glass windows must be glorious.”
I’m thrilled she noticed. “They really are. Come by any time, and I’ll show you around. Maybe even get your opinion.”
“I’d love that. Thank you.” She looks past me and up the stairs. “I didn’t interrupt anything?”
Just my father pulling the floor out from beneath me. But I don’t want to ruin my budding good mood by bringing that up, so I shake my head. “I was just flipping through my mail and texting my sister when you got here. Do you want to come up? It’s only got barebones furniture and the curtains you helped me pick out.”
She nods. “I’d love that. But I can’t stay long. Jodi called in her favor, and I’m covering for her tonight. I have to be behind the bar in less than thirty minutes.”
“Plenty of time.” I hold my hand out to her. There’s a beat of hesitation before she takes it. But when our palms connect, my mind clears of everything but how good and natural it feels to touch her. I’ve kept my hands to myself for the whole month, but only because I don’t trust myself to stop with just a touch. But it gets harder to resist every time I see her. I can’t wait to know what the rest of her feels like. Tastes like. I wonder what she’d do if I asked her to spread her legs for me.
“How was your day?” she asks, and I flush at the turn my thoughts just took and refocus on the present.
“Long, lots of issues with my contractor and a lot of paperwork to sign for work. But things are looking up now.”
She laces our fingers together and tugs me to a stop. She’s looking at the floor, and her shoulders are visibly tense.
I put my finger under her chin and tip her head up. “What’s wrong?”
“Omar…” Her eyes are clouded by whatever is causing the furrow between her raven brows. “I didn’t come over to bring you candles. I mean, I made them for you. But that’s not why I came. This is an ambush.”
“It is?” I frown. She nods but cringes as if she’s embarrassed. “And what were you hoping to accomplish with the nicest ambush in human history?”
She bites her lip and fiddles with our intertwined fingers. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t throwing wild orgies in here.”
A laugh bursts from my gut, and I throw my head back.
“Did you get to know me and not like me as much as you thought?” she asks in a quiet voice.
My humor fizzles instantly. “Why would you think that?”
She lets go of my hand and squares her shoulders. Her eyes narrow, and her mouth thins to a straight, displeased frown. “Well? Yes or no?” she demands, one hand on her hip as she waits for me to answer.
“No. If I had, I would have told you and not spent nearly every day of the last month with you,” I say in complete surprise.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “When you said we should spend time together before things got physical, I didn’t know you meant you weren’t going to touch me at all.”
“I didn’t mean that. We were touching just now.”
She firms her jaw. “Omar, we’ve been on countless dates. We’ve shared dozens of meals. We hang out all night, say goodbye, and then talk on the phone until one of us falls asleep.”
“Why do you make it sound like that’s a bad thing?”
“Because we haven’t even gotten to first base. And I don’t understand why not. Did my tears turn you off?”
“Of course not. Nothing has turned me off.”
Her frown deepens, and she continues as if she didn’t hear me. “Did I fart when I fell asleep? Do I smell bad in general? Talk too much? What is it?” She throws her hands up with an exasperated frown on her face.
God, I’m an idiot. I put a hand on each of her shoulders and lower my head so we’re eye to eye. “You didn’t do anything. I was just trying to give you time to get to know me. I’m?—”
“Yes, I know. You’re an acquired taste.” She puts air quotes around the words and rolls her eyes.
“What does that mean?”
“It means, who isn’t?”
“You get along with everyone you meet.”
“I do not get along with everyone I meet.”
“Yes, you do,” I insist.
She purses her lips. “No, I don’t. It’s my job to be friendly to the punters, Omar. Or to leave them be if that’s what they want. And I’ve read your warning labels. You can be rigid and judgmental and not particularly forgiving. You can be overbearing and a bit of a know-it-all. And you’re an introvert.”
She reads me like a book, but her honesty is refreshing. “And I’m not going to change.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“Not yet.”
She scowls at me. “Not ever. If I wanted you to change, I wouldn’t be here.”
“You’re saying that now, but wait until l annoy you.”
She groans. “You’ve already annoyed me, Omar. And I haven’t been shy about telling you.”
I nod in agreement. “Touché.”
She looks down at the floor and draws a pattern with the toe of her shoe. “Listen, the worst thing you can do besides ghosting me is to lead me on. So if you aren’t interested, I want you to tell me.”
God, her vulnerability makes me weak. But to be the source of her insecurity is unacceptable. I’ve been so focused on doing this right that I’ve let that override our natural progression.
“Jules, come here, let’s talk.” I sit down on my pale blue couch and wave her over.
She shakes her head and crosses her arms. “I came here tonight because I wanted to see if maybe you had some secret sex den or a bit on the side. And you’re just… here. ” She splays her hands and waves them around the room. “Alone. Doing nothing. ”
I chuckle at the consternation on her face. “Come on,” I coax with a hand outstretched.
“I’m serious.” She stamps her foot.
It’s fucking cute, but I don’t dare say so. I stand and walk to meet her where she’s planted herself. “So am I.”
She takes a deep breath and meets my eyes again. Her amaretto gaze is clear and resolute. “I appreciate you giving me time to make an informed decision. But even someone as brilliant and determined as you can’t see the future. Who knows? Maybe in another month, I’ll hate your guts. But right now, in this dimension of time and space we’re sharing, your hard-earned smile makes me as happy as a sunny day in the middle of winter. And after a month of getting to know you, I’m insanely hot for you. I want you to be my first. But only if you want—oh!” She gasps just as my mouth comes down on her sweet lips, and the contact sends little prickles of heat down my spine and blood rushing down to my rapidly rising erection.
She’s stiff for half a second and then she melts.
Her fingers clutch at the sides of my shirt, and I cup her face in my hands, letting my lips sink into her so very soft ones. I didn’t even know lips could be so soft. Her mouth is minty sweet and hot when she opens for me, and my tongue slips inside. I wrap an arm around her waist, cup her ass with my other one, and pull her flush against me so she can feel how badly I want exactly what she does. She’s six inches shorter than me, so my dick nestles in her belly instead of where I want it. I lift her with one arm around her waist, and her legs wrap around my hips like she’s done it a thousand times. The plush heat between her thighs envelops my throbbing dick. I cup her ass with my free hand and thrust up. She breaks the kiss on a loud gasp, and her eyes pop open a second after mine. I walk us back until my shins hit the couch and I turn so I’m seated and she’s straddling me. I grasp her hips and roll them over my dick, and she whimpers, “More of that please.” I oblige her.
Even through the layers of fabric that separate us, the friction we make is electric. When her kiss-swollen lips part on a silent moan, I lean forward to nip the bottom one and trail kisses over her chin and down the soft, sweet-smelling column of her throat. “I want to pull your panties to the side and bury myself inside of you,” I tell her in between long sucks of her neck.
She’s breathing hard, and her hips are writhing. “Do it, please.”
I slip a hand under her skirt and trail up her silken thigh until I reach the holy grail.
Somewhere in the distance there’s a shrill ringing, but I’m senseless and blind to anything but giving in to the need I’ve denied for weeks. My fingers are breaching the lace edge of her panties when suddenly the only thing I feel is cool air.
My eyes snap open, and I have to blink twice to clear the fog of lust from them. She’s standing in front of me, holding her phone.
“Thank the stars I set this alarm. I have fifteen minutes to be at work.”
I run a hand through my hair and nod. “I know. I didn’t expect that kiss to escalate. It was supposed to be a deposit on later. But I touched you and?—”
“We caught fire,” she finishes for me, and we share a smile that tugs at my heart and my cock.
“That was so hot. I’m sorry I made us wait. But I can promise you…this will be the last time you’ll have to ask me for something twice.”
Her smile seems to double. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’ll fall in love with you, and then we’ll be in real trouble.”
My heart flings itself against my sternum, and my mouth takes the leap it can’t. “Sounds like a good kind of trouble to me. And this between us feels like the start of something special.”
“Omar.” She breathes my name in a heady sigh that I wish I was close enough to inhale. She stares at me through wide, wet eyes and presses a hand to her chest.
Thunder rolls and cracks the quiet dusk, and she drops my hand and rushes over to the window where she pulls the curtain back and peers outside. “It’s really about to pour.”
“I’ll drive you.”
Her eyes bulge. “No way. The only thing sexier than you is your car and the way you drive it.” She tilts her head back and mimes fanning herself. “It’s too hot for me to handle on a normal day. If we get in there now, that’s where we’ll stay.”
I think my blacked-out Aston Martin Vantage is sexy as fuck too, but I raise a skeptical eyebrow. “You’ll have to tell me more about how I drive later.”
“I can tell you now if you’ll walk me down.”
“Sure.” I take the hand she holds out to me and reluctantly let her lead me to the stairs. But only because I like the words coming out of her mouth. I’d rather walk her to my bedroom.
“You drive it like you own it and the road you’re on in equal measure. And when you change gears, your shoulders bunch up, it’s so fucking sexy. I love watching you.”
I flush at the compliment and lift our joined hands to my mouth to press a kiss to hers “Then at least allow me to pick you up. What time do you get off?”
“Ten, but it’s Calypso night. Jodi said she and Dom will be back to catch the last couple of hours. Dom hates to dance, and I told her I’d stay after the shift. You could join us.”
“I’ll be there. But I’m not dancing,” I promise.
She grins, wraps a hand around my neck, and presses a too fleeting, too chaste kiss on my lips. “That was just a down payment on later.”
“That’s not even a deposit on a down payment. Come back here,” I growl and wrap my arms around her waist to drag her back. I nip her lower lip.
She squeals and squeezes herself out of my grasp. When I reach for her again, she jumps away with a bubbling laugh that I’m instantly addicted to.
“I’ve got to go. It’s about to pour, and I don’t have an umbrella.” She hurries to the door and flings it open.
“What kind of Londoner doesn’t carry an umbrella?”
She stops to look over her shoulder with a smile that I decide is my favorite one of hers so far. “An optimistic one. Thank you for being worth the effort.” And with a wave of her fingers, she’s gone.
“Fuck me.” I lean against the closed door and chuckle. She’s worried about falling in love with me, but I’ve been falling for weeks. It’s been a month of blue balls, cold showers, and marathon masturbation sessions when I get back from her place. But tonight, it feels worth it.
Over the last month, the beauty that first caught my notice has become the secondary driver of my attraction and respect for her. My dick gets hard for her work ethic and her empathy, too. If I’m completely honest, part of the reason I’ve been taking my time is because being with her feels so good, and I want to savor it. But my dad’s call tonight did more than widen the rift between us. It’s killed any fantasy I might have had about staying here indefinitely. I was worried about hurting her when the time came for me to leave. Now I’m more worried about how much it’s going to hurt me to say goodbye.
At ten o’clock, I head down the stairs showered, groomed, and ready for whatever the night brings. I stop at the mirror hanging at the foot of them and do a doubletake at the goofy smile on my face. Life may give me a lot of shit, but the last month has been one of the most contented in recent memory. I grab my keys and my wallet and whistle the whole way.