Chapter 34
Colin
Once the kitchen was clean, she ran upstairs, claiming she was going to read a book.
It’s been sweet torture having her here. Even those ugly gray sweatpants couldn’t make me stop wanting her. I had to use all my willpower not to allow my dick to pop up, but she’s so damn beautiful. Even when she was outside in those ridiculous boots sliding all over the place, she was beautiful. At one point, a snowflake landed on her eyelashes, and I wanted to kiss it.
I’ve dreamed of her here. I’ve pictured her here. When we parted ways on the island, I knew it would only be a matter of days before she would be here with me. Only there would be no talk of her leaving or of us living in different parts of the country. Now, she’s here, and she’s further away than ever.
I’ve considered letting her go and moving on with someone else, but she’s still the woman I want. Having her upstairs is like the worst possible torture. It’s only ten o’clock now, and she’s only been here a few hours, but it feels like days.
I stare at the television in my room and have no idea what show is on or what it’s about. I wonder if she has a book or only said that to get away from me. Maybe the pull is too strong for her too. The difference is that I’d happily give in, bring her to bed, slide inside of her, and not pull out until morning.
I hear footsteps above, and I assume she’s going to the bathroom, but then I hear the creakiness of the stairs. The noisy stairs are one of the things I dislike about this place.
Maybe she’s thirsty. She can’t possibly be hungry after all the food she ate. She lets out a little gasp, and then I hear fast footsteps again. I sigh and get out of bed.
She’s standing over the couch. She brought pillows from upstairs, along with a comforter. The tree branches scrape against the window, and she jumps in surprise. Of all things, I never expected her to fear the dark or bad weather.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and she shrieks as if I’m a stranger and this is not my home. She puts a hand to her chest and takes a step back. “Is something wrong with your room upstairs?”
“It’s fine,” is all she says. “Aren’t you cold?” She gestures at my bare chest. I’m only in a pair of boxers. “There’s a blizzard outside, and you’re practically naked.”
“Yes, because it’s warm in here,” I respond. “And I typically sleep naked, so you’re welcome.” She purses her lips but doesn’t reply.
The wind howls, and the branches scrape the window again. She turns and looks at it, then looks at the makeshift bed she made on the couch. “You can sleep in my room if you’re scared.” I hope she doesn’t hear the amusement in my voice.
“Um, you know it’s a bad idea for us to share a bed. And I’m not scared.” She climbs underneath the down comforter. “Maybe you can turn on the light in your room and leave the door open so some of the light can spill out here.”
“Or you can leave the light on out here,” I suggest.
“I don’t like it too bright at night.”
“Neither do I,” I counter. She glares at me with her lips pursed shut. “This is ridiculous. You can sleep with me. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.” The light from the TV coming from my bedroom flickers. “I have a fireplace and a television in my room. That should give you what you want.”
The wind blows, and I hear the sound of a car alarm from outside. She jumps off the couch and snatches the pillows she brought from upstairs.
“Okay,” she says. “Since you insist.” She runs past me and goes into my room. When I get there, she’s putting the pillows in the middle of the bed to make a wall. I roll my eyes and go to climb onto my side. “Wait!” she says. She runs out of the room, and I hear the steps creaking while she goes upstairs. She’s not up there for long. She returns less than a minute later with four more pillows. She puts them in the middle of the bed before she climbs in.
“That’s my side,” I say.
“Well, I’m already here. Can’t you sleep on that side for one night?” She sounds agitated.
“No. I want to sleep on my side.”
She sighs, mutters something under her breath, and climbs out of the bed. She gestures to my side and huffs as if I’m the one inconveniencing her. I go around and climb in, and she does the same. The flimsy pillows between us do nothing to stop my dick from rising. It’s been in a constant state of arousal since I saw her in the office. I’ll never tell her, but she’s extra beautiful when she’s afraid and pretending she’s not.
“What’s your book about?” I ask moments later.
“Huh?”
“The book you ran upstairs to read.”
“Oh. It’s good. It’s a mystery.”
“Right,” is all I say at the blatant lie. “What’s the title?”
“Um, Mysterious Happenings.” I roll my eyes. That’s about the dumbest title I’ve ever heard.
“Sounds more like a horror than a thriller.”
“It has some of those elements, too,” she lies.
“Why are these pillows between us? It’s like closing the gate after the horse has gotten out, don’t you think, Brynne?” I ask instead of calling her out on the lie about her book. “This is stupid.”
“You’re stupid, and so is your management style. And I don’t want the horse to get back in,” she says. “That’s the entire damn point. It was a mistake before.”
“A mistake?” I ask, shoving down the twinge of hurt. “I seem to remember you enjoying it, and you spent all your time with me. It couldn’t have been that much of a mistake.”
“I’m not the type of woman who hooks up or has casual sex. And if I were going to do that, I would not be doing it with my boss,” she says. “Even though you’re grossly unqualified for the job.” She whispers the last part, but I hear it.
“I must not be that unqualified since I have the job, and you don’t,” I say loudly.
“I wonder why that is, Colin Kincaid .”
“Or maybe it can be because you’re unprofessional, combative, and confrontational.”
“Unprofessional?” she asks.
“Yeah. Unprofessional. Not showing up for work for days because you’re mad is unprofessional, not to mention immature.”
“I guess you told me then, boss,” she says. I can picture her rolling her eyes. “Last time I checked, I had personal days, but okay.”
“And as far as being casual, I never asked you to be. I want us to be together in a relationship, not sleeping with pillows between us like two teenagers at a sleepover. If things had gone the way I wanted, you’d be in my arms right now. Naked. And speaking of me being your boss, you didn’t come to work for two days and told no one. This is not about your personal days. You didn’t show up because you were having another tantrum. You also didn’t come to the meeting this morning. You definitely don’t treat me like a boss.”
“I’m not going to any more meetings. They’re a productivity killer. Had I been given the promotion I was promised, I would stop having so many damn meetings. That’s one of the things Milton did that annoyed me, and I see you’re continuing with that pointless tradition.” She turns her back to the mountain of pillows.
“What do you mean you’re not going to any more meetings?” I ask.
“Exactly what I said. I’m going to work on my projects and go home. I will be giving nothing more. If you or Milton have an issue with that, fire me.”
“You get on my nerves,” I say. “You are so damn difficult. Keep it up, and I will fire you. You’re like a damn spoiled brat.”
“Uh-huh, rich boy. I’m the spoiled brat,” she says. “And I can’t stand you, so we’re even,” she tosses out.
She doesn’t say more, and I wait until I hear her even breathing or snoring. Minutes pass, and nothing happens.
“You had no issues with me when you rode me in the office,” I say before I turn and give my back to the pillows. “Twice.”
Now my dick is rock hard, and there’s a beautiful woman next to me that I can’t touch. I punch one of my pillows in frustration.
“Don’t flatter yourself. It was mediocre at best.”
“Mediocre?” I turn around to face her, but my face hits a pillow. “Like when I held you through your endless orgasms? Or when I had to cover your mouth so you wouldn’t let the entire office know what we were doing? Like those times? Is that when it was mediocre?”
She scoffs. “I faked it.” I know she’s lying. When we were together on vacation, she was so loud my friends heard. She could not keep quiet in the office, and I had to cover her mouth with my hand. She couldn’t get enough of me, and our last night together, we didn’t stop. She might have faked it in the past, but not with me.
“You’re about the best actress I’ve ever met. You’re like the Black Meryl Streep.”
“I can just be Halle Bailey, Quinta Brunson, or Angela Bassett.” She has the nerve to suck her teeth after she says it. “Meryl Streep wishes.”
“Tough words for someone who’s in my bed because she’s too much of a scaredy cat to stay upstairs by herself. What did you think? The big bad guy was gonna get you?”
“Oh, please. It’s not my fault you live in a creepy ass house. It’s probably cursed just like you.” She goes quiet until she mumbles, “Jerk.”
“That’s a lot of attitude from a wimp.”
The very idea that this woman is talking trash when she is only here because I saved her from starving and freezing in the office ticks me off. Not only that, but I also discovered she’s so scared of strange noises that she has to sleep in her enemy's bed while she continues insulting me. Thinking back now, the signs were there. One night, there was a thunderstorm, and she was practically glued to me until it passed. I thought she was pretending just to get closer to me, not that I minded.
I snatch one of the pillows and toss it to the floor. She sits up and looks around as if she’s confused by what’s happening. I throw another pillow. She hops off the bed just in time for the third pillow to hit her in the head. She runs around the room, picking them up and throwing them on the bed, only for me to toss them to the floor again.
“Will you stop, you jerk?” she screeches. She grabs a pillow, but I wrap my arm around her wrist before she can put it on the bed. I take it with my other hand and throw it in the open closet. Then I pull her on top of me.
“You stop that right—” Her words get cut off when I flip us over, land on top of her, and pin her to the bed. She gasps, but then she sighs in pleasure when I grind into her.
“I bet this jerk can make you come over and over again,” I whisper in her ear. “You want to know how I know I can do that?” She remains quiet and stares into my eyes. “Because I have before. Many, many times.”
I smother whatever smart-ass response she was going to say with a deep kiss. She melts into me and wraps her arms around me. Her hands slide through my hair like they always do when we embrace.
“Mmhmm,” she moans into my mouth. Her hands leave my hair, travel down my back until they're inside my boxers and she strokes my ass. She opens her mouth and the kiss turns wet, sloppy, and loud. She pulls my shorts down, and I break the kiss long enough to take the damn things off.
Once I’m done, I lift her sweatshirt over her head, and her breasts spill out. My mouth waters, but I pull her pants and underwear off before I take one of her nipples into my mouth.
“Oh, God, yes,” she moans as I bite and pull it.
“Open your legs,” I say against her breast. I pop the nipple out of my mouth and blow on it. It pebbles right before my eyes. Her legs spread, and I kiss my way down, sucking and marking her skin along the way until I get to her spread-open pussy. I blow on it and she whimpers. I take her thighs and spread them further apart. I want to take my time and eat her until she comes on my face, but my dick wants her too much for that. I stroke her folds, and she’s soaked. I slide inside of her in one hard thrust.
“Uhhh,” she moans as I go deeper and faster. I take one of her breasts in my hand and squeeze it.
“You like that, Honeybee?” I ask after thrusting deeper inside of her. Her only response is to moan louder. The wind howls outside, and the branches scrape against the window. “You like that?” I ask again.
She doesn’t answer. She only whimpers, so I stop. Her eyes fly open, and I hold her stare. I stay inside of her but don’t move. She starts to grind underneath me, but I pin her down to the bed, making it impossible for her to move.
“Are you kidding?” she asks. She slaps my ass hard, but I still don’t move. “Are you going to fuck me or what?”
“Not unless you tell me you like it,” I say. I’m barely holding on. I’m one second from either coming or fucking her until she screams. She opens her mouth to speak, but I kiss her silent while I play with her nipple. That’s always her undoing, and I bet I can make her come just with nipple play, but I’m not feeling that generous tonight. I touch it, but not enough for her to climax.
She mumbles something into my mouth.
“What was that?” I ask, breaking the kiss.
“I like it. Don’t stop,” she says, so I start moving again. The faster I go, the louder she screams. She screams so loud, I’m sure that if not for the deafening howl of the wind, my neighbors would hear.
I wrap a hand around her throat and add a little pressure. “Shh,” I say, warning her, but she doesn’t heed it. She moans louder. I let go of her neck and put my hand between her legs to rub her clit. She sinks her head into the pillow and calls out my name repeatedly as she comes apart in my arms.
Her orgasm brings forth my own, and I unload inside of her. I kiss the side of her mouth and stroke her cheek while she comes. I whisper soothing words in her ear until she goes silent and still and then slide out of her but remain on top. She looks into my eyes, and there’s no anger or regret. She’s just calm. I slide off and turn to my side. She does the same, and we look at each other. She doesn’t say a word, but I run my finger between her breasts and down her stomach.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper. She blushes and looks away. I grasp her chin, move closer, and kiss her full lips softly, and she kisses me back. “Can we call a truce, please?” I ask. “I don’t want to fight over the stupid job anymore. Let’s not talk about work for the rest of your time here.” And since the weather forecast predicts the snow will fall all day tomorrow, she will be here for days. “I want what we had on vacation and what we talked about having after. Like when I promised to find you, and you said you’d let me keep you if I did.”
She sighs and looks away, but she surprises me when she speaks. “You don’t think I wanted that too? You think it’s been easy on me?”
I slide my hand away from her stomach and put it on her hip. “I don’t know how you’ve felt because you haven’t told me. You’ve been too busy blaming me and making accusations.”
“Well, what was I supposed to do?”
“You could have trusted me and believed me. You could have talked to me.”
“And what would that have changed?” she asks. “Nothing. You’d still have the job, and you’d still be my boss.”
“Not nothing. We’ve wasted weeks fighting only for us to end up here tonight. I still want you. I want us.”
She closes her eyes as she gathers her thoughts. “I don’t see how it could ever work, Colin.”
“Why wouldn’t it? Because of work? So, what? We’re both architects who work at the same place. That’s all.”
“It’s more than that.”
“But that’s not my fault or yours. I’ve waited my entire life to have a connection like the one we have, and we shouldn’t pass it up because of work.”
“Colin,” she begins, “the last thing I need is to be perceived as someone who sleeps with the boss. It won’t impact your career, but it will mine.”
“I won’t let it.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I put my finger to her lips. “Let me show you what it can be like. Let’s be together while you’re here. You, me, and everything we talked about. If things didn’t go to hell before, you’d be here with me to ride out the storm. Let’s do that. Don’t fight me. No talking about work or Uncle Milton.”
“Or Heath,” she says.
Her words give me a glimmer of hope. “In that case, let’s add Ernestine to that list.” Her lips twitch, then she lets out a carefree giggle. “Oh my God, a laugh. Finally.” She snorts. “Come here,” I say, and she inches closer before resting her head on my chest. I intertwine our legs. “That’s more like it.”
“The truth is, I’m tired of fighting, Colin. I hate it.”
“Then stop fighting. And I hate it, too.”
“You’ll make me a latte in the morning?” she asks, and I nod. “Can I make breakfast since you made dinner?”
“Honeybee, you can do whatever you want while you’re here. You can paint the walls pink if you want.”
“What about Tigerlilly?” she asks. “And I don’t like pink.”
“What about her? We had two dates, and nothing happened,” I say.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Maybe I’ll get you to do something about those creaky ass steps, but there is something I want to do right now,” she says.
“What’s that?”
“I want to kiss you.”
“You don’t ever have to ask.”