Chapter 7
Saylor
I woke slowly and peacefully the next morning. The chirping of birds and the soft sound of the tide lapping at the beach came to me first. I was so warm and happy; I didn’t want the moment to ever end.
And then the arm over my waist flexed slightly.
Oh shit. I wasn’t alone.
Mal.
Or was it Daddy?
I flushed, remembering all his dirty talk the night before. I never thought I had daddy issues. I mean, my dad died when I was two and I called my stepdad by his name, Alan, from day one—even when I was only three years old. He’d never wanted me to call him dad, and Mom hadn’t pushed for it.
But it was different with Mal. It was hot to call him Daddy and seeing how his eyes flared. It felt empowering. I did that to him.
I did a lot to him last night. Starting with jumping him at the bottom of the stairs. But I loved the way he checked in with me, making sure I was still into everything, especially when he’d doubted it at one point.
But what was he still doing here?
I would’ve thought he’d be the king of hitting and quitting it.
Judging by the hard-on probing my ass, he wasn’t gonna quit me today.
“Mmmm.” His arm brushed against my side and came to rest, cupping my right breast.
My nipple immediately hardened and pressed against his calloused fingers.
I squeezed my thighs together. God, he was so sexy without even trying.
But I was very aware of my very full bladder and no doubt horrible case of morning breath.
So I rolled out of his arms and headed for the bathroom, hoping he was still asleep and not watching my very naked butt jiggle as I walked away.
Judging by his muffled curse, I didn’t get my wish.
He was awake and no doubt regretting his little sleepover.
I couldn’t piece together my emotions. I was so all over the place.
Proud of myself for pulling the trigger with Mal.
Glad I was moving past Trent and his bullshit.
Maybe a little embarrassed over some of the things I said and did last night.
Definitely a little hurt over his cursing just now and how he was most likely regretting staying the night.
But I couldn’t control that.
I mentally shook it off, preferring to bask in my awesome sexual awakening instead as I went through my morning routine. I’d usually shower too, but I didn’t feel comfortable taking one with him still here.
After pulling on the complimentary robe, I stood in front of the closed door for a few seconds and debated my options. Take a shower? Go out there and see if he was still here? What if he wasn’t?
What if he was?
Ugh. This was too much turmoil so early in the morning. I really needed some coffee so I could think.
Almost like I thought it into existence, the aroma of coffee wafted into the bathroom.
Weird.
Followed by a strange buzzing sound I’ve never heard here before.
Jerking open the door, I found Mal naked and standing in front of the espresso machine with a cup poised under the spout while my favorite liquid poured into it.
“Hey baby. Got a cup for you already. Do you want to mix in milk and sugar or do you take it black? Pretty sure I can get the thing to make you a latte if you want your milk steamed. What’ll it be?”
He was all jovial and just calm. Not at all like Trent in the morning. I’d never met anyone who woke up so crabby and mad. Made it hard to be around him in the morning…not that it got better later in the day, come to think of it.
But not Mal. He was all happy and unabashed about the huge erection jutting out from his body. Like he didn’t care.
Like he wasn’t ashamed.
I blinked a few times, totally taken aback by the whole scene. Especially all those tattoos all over his body. I hadn’t had near enough time to explore them last night.
“Babe? Latte? Espresso?
I jerked back into the present. “Anything. If it’s coffee based, just pour it into my mouth.”
“My kinda girl. Here’s one already made.” He handed me a cup and pressed a kiss against my temple. “And I’m just gonna pop into the bathroom before I drink mine.”
Then he was gone before I could even say thank you.
The machine in front of me sputtered black liquid into the cup under it.
I was definitely going to have to ask him for a lesson on operating that before he left. Taking a few gulps from my cup, I felt all my nerves drain away. Nothing beat a cup of my favorite nectar.
Spying a flash of red, I walked over and picked up my dress from the night before. I set my cup down and shook out the dress. Fortunately, it’d ripped along the seam so I should be able to fix it. Not here and now; it’d have to wait until I was home with my supplies, but at least it wasn’t ruined.
Although what a way to go. I smirked. Kinda hard to mourn something that made me smile remembering how ardent Mal had been last night when he’d done it. I’d made him react like that.
Me.
The bathroom door opened, and Mal padded into the room. “Ah, it’s done. Great.” He grabbed his cup and sipped his latte while watching me over the rim. “Shit, I forgot I ripped your dress. I’ll buy you another one. You like Chanel?”
I shook my head. “I can fix it.”
“You shouldn’t have to. It was my damage. Let me buy you a new dress.”
“It’s no big deal. I still have the thread, so it won’t be hard to fix.”
“Wait, you made that dress?” Judging by his expression, he was impressed by the fact.
I shrugged. “Most of the outfits I brought—minus my swimsuits—I made.”
“Holy shit. I know you mentioned you were into design, but I had no idea you’re so talented. That dress last night was banging. Why aren’t you doing that full time?”
I tossed the dress in the general direction of my luggage. “Because no one makes money at being a seamstress or designer or whatever. It’s one of those you-gotta-have-money-to-make-money deals.”
“What if you went back to school for clothes designing? Or have you tried to apply to work for someone else? Like intern or whatever?”
“Yeah, that wasn’t going to fly with my mom. And Vegas only has hooker boutiques or wedding dresses, and neither one appealed to me. So anyway…” I ached to change the subject. Talking about designing clothes was like probing an open wound. Because that pipedream was never coming true.
He shook his head. “Damned shame that someone with talent like that isn’t using it to the fullest.”
“Some hobbies aren’t meant to be careers. Some things like eating and shelter take precedent.” I took another sip of my espresso and mumbled, “not that you would understand.”
“You seriously think I didn’t struggle? That I came from money?” He laughed harshly. “Fuck me, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Okay, fine. You made your dream come true. That doesn’t happen for ninety-nine percent of us.”
He sobered immediately. Judging by that glint in his eye, I’d pissed him off.
“I made my dream come true because I scrabbled, I scraped, I slept on couches and worked shitty day jobs so I could play in bars at night. I got by on minutes of sleep some days. Don’t tell me that I don’t know about the sacrifices it takes. ”
“I…” I swallowed as shame all but engulfed me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know much about your band or your story. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
He nodded stiffly. “Okay.” He took another gulp from his latte then walked over to grab his boxer briefs tangled up in his black pants from the night before. “I should get back to my place.”
“Um, okay.” This felt weird. Like our first fight or something. But I’d only met him two days ago. It was too soon to feel this deeply for someone.
Right?
He dressed in silence then grabbed his cup and drained the contents. After setting the cup on the desk, he turned to me and gave me a quick up and down. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
Dread pooled in my stomach. I hated this. I couldn’t let him walk away.
“Mal, wait. I don’t want to leave things like this with us.”
He stopped halfway to the door but didn’t say anything or turn around.
I wanted to make things right, but I didn’t know what to say, really.
After setting my cup down on a nearby table, I twisted my fingers together, searching for the right thing to say.
Finally, I opened my mouth and words just fell out.
“I’m used to people telling me what a pipedream being a designer is.
I don’t know how to handle someone urging me to chase my dreams. I mean, even my best friend tried to talk me out of taking design classes at college.
Said it was pointless. My best friend. Coming from her of all people, that made me feel pointless. ”
He stared down at the floor for a second before nodding. “I get it.”
I stood there, unconsciously swaying toward him. I didn’t know why I felt this pull. I wanted to touch him, feel his arms around me. Almost like being in his orbit made me feel better.
But it was way too soon to have thoughts like that. And weird.
“Anyway.” I shook my head. “Yeah, so I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything about you. I’m not like that. I don’t do that. Usually.” I winced.
Then I blinked, and Mal was standing in front of me. His hand came up and he hesitated like he wasn’t sure if it was okay to touch me.
I took a step toward him and his hand cupped my cheek. His smile was pained as he stared down at me.
“I’m sorry too. I guess people assuming I’m a rich asshole is a sore spot for me too. I definitely didn’t like knowing you thought I was that guy.”
“I don’t.” Taking another step toward him, I wrapped my arms around him and burrowed into his chest. His skin was smooth and warm against my cheek.
“I just…it feels dangerous to let myself dream like that. I’m so close to saying fuck it and chasing it.
I mean, I’m not marrying Trent anymore. I hated my student-teaching experience.
But I’ve done all the classes, I have the degree, all that’s left is a few tests, but I really don’t want to…
and I don’t think I’ve ever said that out loud before. I don’t want to be a teacher.”