Chapter 2 #2
I smiled giddily, thinking back to the moment we had first met. Lina, Anya and I were traveling to Las Vegas for her bachelorette party and waiting for the gas to fill.
Why did I agree to come to Vegas for a bachelorette party with these crazy twins? Oh, yes, because I wanted to get laid.
“I hate my life!” Lina Wu wailed, and I resisted my urge to throw a sandal at her. Anya patted her sister’s shoulder. The weather was so dry and humid, it made me crankier than our car getting beaten up when we stopped for gas at a gas station in the middle of a highway.
I shook my head and looked at our beaten-up Mini Cooper and kicked the tire. It shook, making me stagger back, tripping on my sandals. I squeezed my eyes, ready to hit the pavement and start the wonderful bachelorette party.
But the fall never came.
“Woah!” A deep husky male voice whispered, catching me in his arms. I held the fabric of his shirt for dear life, feeling his warm breath caressing my ear.
I opened my eyes and stared back at the most stunning pair of crystal blue eyes.
They gazed back at me with dilated pupils, making them look almost black if you weren’t staring closely.
My eyes traveled to his sharp cheekbones and sensuous lips.
My breath hitched in my throat and I felt a shiver slither down my spine from his touch on my waist, traveling down to my core, making my toes curl in delightful pleasure.
Bedroom Eyes. That was the word for those beautiful eyes. The type of eyes that parents warned about and poets wrote about.
“Wow,” he breathed out, gazing at my face and noticing every curve and flaw as if he wanted to remember me whenever he closed his eyes.
I blinked at him and mustered an awkward smile.
I pulled away and felt my knees wobble at the sudden closeness of this gorgeous man.
The musky scent of his cologne wafted through my nose.
Yet somehow, I stood on my own legs while we stared at each other.
More like, I stared up at him because of my short, closer-to-Satan height.
Brushing away the strands of my hair from my face, I noticed his sharp features and lowered my eyes to his v-neck black t-shirt. It hugged his broad shoulders, stretching over them. I clenched my fists trying to control my hormones and looked down at his long legs clad in pants and sneakers.
I felt heat surge my face under his scrutinizing gaze and chuckled nervously, “Um . . . thank you for catching me.”
I ignored the sound of Lina and Anya as he smiled warmly at me, his teeth gleaming like white pearls, “It was nothing really, I feel honored.”
Smiling at him, I felt my insides melt at his smooth, sultry voice as if he wasn’t even trying to make his voice sound deeper. He was—what I like to call, ‘Fuck-pussy on legs’, just another idiom of ‘sex on legs,’ because I could imagine myself riding hi—
PG-13, Kia. PG-13.
I looked away, heat rushing to my face, neck, and ears as I sneakily checked his left hand to look for a ring and sighed in relief when I found it empty.
His voice snapped me out of my dirty, filthy thoughts, “So, what are you doing out here?” His voice traveled down to my core, and I had to clench my thighs because I wasn’t wearing underwear.
Fuck my life.
I cleared my throat and pointed to the Mini Cooper we had rented for our drive to Las Vegas.
“We were traveling to Vegas, but it broke down after we paid for the gas, and now we are hanging out here until the car service shows up.” I looked at Lina who was crying about her no-bachelorette party and looked back at Blue-eyes who was gazing at me.
He watched me longingly and finally looked over my shoulder at the twins like it was a hard task to take his eyes off me. I blushed instantly, thinking about it, and bit my lip when his eyes dropped to them, making me release it instantly.
Why the fuck am I acting like a teenager?
Licking my lips, I straightened myself, and I swear I saw him hide a smile as his eyes glowed with mischief.
“Bachelorette?” He even checked my left hand for good measure.
I bit back my laugh, “Yeah, it was . . . but I bet it won’t happen. The twin in the red top; her wedding is next week, and she’s been acting like a bridezilla since last month.”
“That’s sad,” I looked back at him and saw him biting his lip as he ran his hand through his smooth raven hair, “This is weird, but we have some space in our Safari and we’re going to Vegas too.”
I noticed his sleek black 1957 Pontiac Safari—my God, a hot guy with a hot car?
I also noticed that he said ‘we’. But as I squinted my eyes, I saw a ginger head guy bobbing his head to some 90s jam he was playing.
I looked back at Blue-eyes and found him staring back at me with patience.
Well, he didn’t look like a serial killer.
But who am I to judge a person to know whether he was a serial killer?
“Oh, and—” I almost jumped back when he stepped toward me. Almost. “I am Jake,” he extended his hand to me. I stared at it like it was a baby dragon about to blow fire on me.
Not to mention he already blew fire on my pu—
I raised my hand, ignoring the zing of pleasure when he squeezed it. “Nice to meet you, Jake. I am Kiara.” I smiled and realized how wonderful his name sounds from my lips.
It would sound much better if I was moaning it.
I clenched my thighs and let go of his calloused hand. Jake smiled, “Pleasure is mine, Kiara.”
Was it bad that I wanted to hear him groan when I—hold your thoughts, Kia. He is a respectable gentleman and he could be gay for all you know. He’s a fine ass man with a fine ass, but don’t forget that God created fine ass men as gay.
I just said fine ass three times in one sentence. I needed to get laid. Oh, Lord.
Almost six months later, we were dating each other and next month, after the parents’ meeting is over, I had asked Mr. Davis for a week vacation because—
My phone lit up with a text message, and I felt bubbles in my stomach seeing it was a text from him. My excitement died down when I read the text.
Jake: Sorry, sweetheart. Flight is late. Might not make it.
I groaned into my pillow and sighed. I removed my earrings and replied,
Me: It’s alright. Missing you.
He didn’t reply, and I quickly changed out of the dress into my pajamas.
As soon as Anya saw me in his hoodie, she narrowed her eyes at me and kept her hands on her hips.
This look was her special mom look, which was only meant for Andrew.
Not for me. But I snuggled up to her and wrapped my arms around her and told her that his flight is late.
She patted my hair and told me to sit with Andrew on the couch.
We all ate our dinner together, and I helped Andrew with his homework while Anya read through one of her case files. I finished reading a fantasy novel and started braiding Anya’s silky black hair.
She groaned, dropping the case file, “I swear to God, your hands have magic in them. Keep going.”
I snickered and continued doing the champi on her hair without any hair oil, relaxing her. Andrew saw us and demanded it too, so his mom massaged his scalp while I did hers.
Another memory flashed in my brain. My mom applying hair oil on my hair, doing champi with her soft hands and me doing the same to Ethan’s hair.
Closing my eyes, I tried to shake off the shivering feeling and excused myself to my room, sliding under the covers. Someone knocked on the front door and I heard muffled voices, but I ignored them. Why was my brain still not over him? I guess it had to do with spending most of my life with him.
“Kiara, your boyfriend’s here,” Anya knocked and opened the door, keeping her hand on her hip and glaring at Jake when he kept his suitcase down and came to me, hugging me in his arms.
“Fiancé, Anya,” he corrected her.
I smiled and nuzzled my face in his sweater.
I heard the door close, leaving us in our own bubble as I breathed in his musky cologne.
This was what I needed right now. Him. His hands tightened before he moved back, kissing me on my lips.
I melted in his arms, cupping his face, his lips soft on mine.
“I missed you,” I whispered and pulled away to look at him.
His wavy onyx hair was tousled, blue eyes bright and shining, little stubble peppering his sharp jaw and cheekbones. A wide grin tugged his lips. “So did I,” he kissed me again, “I brought something for you.”
“You did?”
He nodded and pulled away to show me a box. I started drooling at the scent of cocoa in the air when he opened it and wriggled his eyebrows at me.
“Ta-da!” He exclaimed, bringing the chocolate cake closer to me.
“You’re the best fiancé ever!” I said and grabbed the cake box, digging in the chocolate goodness with a spoon he offered me.
He told me he bought one for Anya and Andrew as well.
We both ate it together, sharing it and feeding it to each other while he talked about his New York Fashion Show.
When we had first met, I had told him he might be a pornstar because he looked famous.
He had laughed at me and told me he was a model, and then it had clicked.
The man who had saved me from a fall at a gas station was none other than the Jake O’Neal.
“Babe, what are your plans for next week?” Jake asked, his arms on my waist as we cuddled on the bed.
I shrugged, “The usual work stuff. Why do you ask?”
“Did you talk to your agent about your second book?” he said, his hand running through my hair.
I shook my head. After finishing university, I had published my debut novel and within the first three months, it had sold over a million copies all over the world. Even though I was glad to have writing as my job, I moved back to San Diego to teach full time.
“Later. I will talk to her later.” I promised and trailed my hand on his sweater, feeling his heartbeat.
Jake faced me, his sharp, handsome face glowing in the dim light of the lamp. “I need to ask you about something.”
I waited, wanting him to continue.
“There is this fashion event next week,” he started but paused when he saw I was about to deny him. “Babe, just listen. It is a fashion event but also a fundraiser for children who have cancer. I am invited, and I wanted you to be my date for the event.”
I wondered about it for a moment. I would definitely go for the fundraiser, but going with Jake also meant that the media would finally know about our engagement.
As Jake was one of the best models in the fashion industry, we had decided to not let the media know about our engagement.
I didn’t mind it because it meant less attention on the both of us since he proposed to me on my twenty-fifth birthday.
“Are you ready to let . . .” I didn’t need to finish the sentence.
He kissed my knuckles. “Yes, Kiara, I am. I want the entire world to know that I am getting married to one of the most brilliant women I know.”
Shaking my head with a grin, I kissed him. “Fine, I will go with you. But you better feed me chocolate cake after the event.”
He winked. “You know I will.”
I admired his handsome face and blurted, “Jake . . . do you, do you want children after marriage?”
His eyes widened, and he stared at me. “Children?”
I nodded.
“Of course, babe, I want children,” he said. “But I would rather wait for a year or two when we are both settled in our own home. I don’t want to rush it.”
I agreed, humming to him as I fell back in his arms. It will be our home when I move in with him next month. Anya had already found a better house for her and Andrew, which was closer to her law firm and the school.
As we both dozed off, I kept thinking about having children and hearing their tiny giggles in our home.