Chapter 28
Maeve
With his generous donation of time and energy, Kellin saved us from our usual pre-wedding insanity. His assistance demonstrated that, with a third set of managerial hands, I might be able to breathe a little easier and actually create a life outside the Cypress.
Granted, I never even considered—let alone wanted—one before this tall, muscular, and devastatingly handsome man with just the right amount of stubble clinging to his angular jaw strutted into our lobby.
That jet-black suit and crisp white shirt…
The gold cufflinks and matching clip…
Focus on the road, Maeve.
In a strange twist of events, I’m driving. I didn’t think Mr. Uber Alpha Male would agree, but given his unfamiliarity with the area and lack of knowledge about our destination, he caved.
I sit behind the wheel of my vintage Beemer, an 850i with a V12 engine in Brilliant Red. Nearly 300 horsepower and built in 1991, back when BMW took their time with cars.
I zip us around curves on Sunset Boulevard, leading Kellin to my favorite spot in the whole city—the top of Temescal Canyon.
Most people don’t realize that autumn is the best time to visit the City of Angels, and today’s one of those perfect days. If our luck holds, the sun will start kissing the horizon right when we reach the peak.
I park the car and face him. “Do you even like hiking?”
He nods, but instead of answering, he snatches my keys. “I’m driving on the way back, by the way.”
I toss my head and laugh as we hop out and walk to the trailhead. Kellin spent the entire drive itching to climb behind the wheel and test out the six-speed manual transmission.
When we reach the edge of the trail, he waves a hand. “Ladies first.”
“So you can watch my ass the whole way.”
He winks. “Absolutely.”
And he’s true to his word. I feel his gaze glued to my backside for every single step.
Good. I didn’t wear my favorite yoga pants for nothing.
We start off chatting about other hikes but eventually drift into companionable silence. When we reach the top of the world, I throw my arms in the air like a kid. “Yes! Perfect timing.”
The fire orange sunset sweeps for miles across the top of the Pacific Ocean, a layer of leaves highlighting the season. As always, the view is even more spectacular than I remember. I haven’t ventured up here in over a month even though I consider this spot my happy place.
In a quiet act of intimacy, Kellin captures my hand, and we wander toward the edge of the cliff to appreciate the stunning panorama.
After a moment, he whistles. “It looks like the ocean’s on fire.”
I enjoy his awestruck expression. “It really does.”
“I can see why you love this hike so much.” Shaking his head, he chuckles softly to himself. “I didn’t know Los Angeles had this sort of thing.”
“Forestry, mountains, and epic views?”
“Exactly. They don’t really mention this in The Hollywood Reporter.” He stares out at the horizon, squinting in spite of those sexy Ray-Bans. “But they should. Who gives a shit about what A-list actor is dating which nepo baby when there’s all this to enjoy?”
“I usually disagree with gatekeeping, but I’m glad not every tourist knows about this place.
Huge crowds would detract from the enjoyment.
” I inch closer and wrap my free hand around his forearm.
“Do you mind if we take a moment of silence? I usually do that to, um, just express gratitude for my health and my career or say a prayer for my mom. That sort of thing.”
He glances at me with an unreadable expression, and a little tension builds in my back. Crap. I hope my mushiness didn’t spook him.
Again.
My muscles relax again when he kisses my forehead. “Let’s do it.”
We soak in the silence, listening to the breeze and quiet birdsong.
I lay my head against his shoulder and breathe in the clean air.
I’m so glad I brought him here. After the chaos of the last few days, this was just what I needed.
And being here with him… I can’t imagine a better way to spend the evening.
Back in the parking lot, Kellin opens the door for me and then climbs behind the wheel of the Beemer. I feel so at peace that I don’t want this day to end yet. “Are you hungry?”
“Starved.”
“Head back up Sunset, east toward Brentwood, and keep going until I say turn.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He revs the engine and smirks.
We drive for about twenty minutes—which is the bare minimum length of time to get anywhere in LA—until I instruct him to pull into Chateau Marmont on Sunset, just shy of Laurel Canyon.
After we valet the car, I lead him straight to the bar.
As soon as we sit down, he scrutinizes his attire, then mine.
“This isn’t New York City, babe. In SoCal, you can go anywhere in yoga pants and Nikes, as long as you wear them with confidence.”
He chuckles and at least pretends to be okay with his attire.
I won’t tell him how cute I find that.
A bartender approaches us. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, a blueberry mojito and your best whiskey, on the rocks with a double pour.”
Kellin raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t look surprised. I’m in hospitality. Listening is my superpower.”
That earns me another quiet chuckle.
The bartender sets napkins in front of us. “Menus?”
“Yes, please. Thank you.” At Kellin’s nod, the bartender slides two onto the bar top before stepping away to fix our drinks.
I clear my throat and intertwine my fingers with Kellin’s. “So, in the theme of hotel touring, this right here is my all-time favorite. The apex of them all.”
“Chateau Marmont?”
“Mm-hmm.” I study the bar area, happy to note nothing has changed.
This place still boasts a 1930s Hollywood aesthetic. Red stools, dark patterned carpet, fringe on the burgundy chandeliers that dot the length of the bar. Always nighttime. The place is the epitome of ambience. And the green damask wallpaper bookends it all.
How the stuff isn’t peeling off the walls after all this time, I’ll never know.
I shift my attention to Kellin. “You should go pee at some point, so you can see the moths on the walls in the bathroom.”
He places his palm over my forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. Are you having a stroke? Because this doesn’t seem like the type of establishment to have an insect infestation.”
I stifle a snort. “Moths on the wallpaper, not actual bugs. You have to go see for yourself.”
“Is that why you love this place? The bugs on the walls in the bathroom?”
The bartender sets our drinks down.
“Thank you.” Angling toward Kellin again, I shake my head.
“No. Well, yeah, that’s part of it.” I exhale the way people do when they’re transported back in time.
“My mom used to bring me here. This is where she’d escape to, I guess.
Just like so many Hollywood stars have. Did you know Keanu Reeves lived here for years at one point? ”
“I did not.”
“Marilyn Monroe, too, and so many others.” I scoot a little closer.
“Well, my mother must’ve felt that pull as well.
She’d come for just an afternoon here and there.
Binge on blueberry mojitos. Mine were virgin.
And then we’d…leave…and she’d be in a better mood for a while.
At the time, I didn’t realize the alcohol did more for her than the atmosphere. ”
He strokes my hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“Is that how she died?”
Instinctually, my eyes find the bar counter, and I wonder why I brought this up.
“Close enough. She switched from booze to pills and eventually overdosed.” My throat burns.
“Even though the memories are bittersweet, this place was still my inspiration. She’s the reason I do what I do.
Someday, I hope the Cypress develops a history even half as rich. ”
When he peruses the area slowly, inspecting all the details, my heart squeezes. He could have blown off what I shared as a silly flight of fancy. Instead, he considers our surroundings solemnly. “This space does feel like it’s, I don’t know…heavy or something.”
Another little clench of my chest. Not only did he pay attention to me…he actually understands. “Exactly! The walls have so many stories to tell, you can feel them buzzing. It’s incredible.”
He pulls me close, his stubble scraping my cheek as he kisses me. Nothing could feel more right.
He draws back to study my face before his focus averts off to the side. “What do you say we eat and grab a room? I’ll have you back in plenty of time for work tomorrow.”
I consult my watch, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. The idea tempts me, but… “I don’t know.” There’s still so much to do.
But we are ahead of schedule…
“What don’t you know?” He slides a hand between my knees, causing every nerve cell to perk up. “Have you ever stayed here?”
I try to ignore how his touch zaps an electric pulse up my thighs. “No. But won’t I be cheating on the Cypress if I spend the night here? I’m loyal to the bone.” I bat my lashes before downing a long swig of my mojito.
“This is business. We’re doing our due diligence.
” He inches his hand farther up my thigh.
“Plus, you can write off the expense. Frankly, we’d be irresponsible not to stay.
” He squeezes my flesh, digging his fingers into the muscle in a painfully pleasant grip.
“Besides,” he leans close and nips my earlobe, “you can’t expect me to wait until we get back to your hotel to fuck you. ”
My lungs hitch, and heat pools in my lower belly.
I exhale through my nose. Guess we’re staying the night.
I swirl my drink, watching the alcohol spin, and wait for dinner to be over.
In our room, Kellin pushes me face-first against the wall with my yoga pants below my knees before the lock even clicks in the door. He’s rock hard, grinding his erection against my ass. I manage to kick off my shoes and peel off the spandex pants right as his hand circles me and finds my clit.
The moment he touches me, he groans. “Fuck, you’re so wet. How long have you been dripping for me?”
I roll my hips against his hand. “Since you suggested spending the night.”
His throaty rumble shakes my spine. “I like knowing that you sat through dinner like that. Looking so sweet and innocent in your hiking gear with your pussy drenched.”
I moan against the drywall as he moves his fingers in tiny clockwise circles.
Good thing I didn’t admit that I’ve been wet off and on since this morning. He’d never let me hear the end of that confession.
Damn, those fingers of his should be registered as deadly weapons.
He drags his tongue down my neck before sucking the skin into his mouth. I hear the shuffle of his pants falling, and my entire being vibrates with anticipation.
His hands curl over my hips. In the next heartbeat, he drives into me without warning, stealing my air as his big cock fills me to the brim. In this position, I feel him deeper than ever.
I feel him everywhere.
As he holds his dick steady inside me while sucking on my neck, the thoughts in my head run rampant. I didn’t realize life could be straight out of a dream like this.
I want this.
I need this. Need him.
I love his hands on me.
I love him.
My pulse falters. Wait, what? Can that be true?
And then he’s pounding me forcefully enough to lift me off my feet with each thrust. I’ve got nothing to hold onto, so I splay my palms against the blue walls, scrabbling for balance. I’m not worried, though, because the hand not working my clit clamps possessively onto my thigh, securing me.
I really want him to come first this time. Fair is fair.
More than that, I need to hear him cry out. Scream my name.
Does he understand how much pleasuring him like this thrills me?
Does he know how badly I crave watching him unravel at my hands? To experience what he’s like when he lets go and unleashes his inner beast?
I push my ass back into him and relax, spreading my legs farther apart to provide him with better access. So he can plant himself all the way inside me, burying the whole length of his shaft to the root.
He moans against my neck. “Fuck, Maeve, you feel so good. Yeah, keep doing that, darlin’. Take all of me, just like that.”
I’m not sure I trust my mouth to speak, but I roll my hips against him, slow and deep, drowning in ecstasy as yearning coils inside me.
His teeth scrape the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. “You’re killing me here. I’m going to come.”
I reach back to grab his head, holding him against me as I pant. “Yes, baby. Please. I want to…feel you.”
With a vicious curse, he pumps, once, twice, and then a third, final time before crying out and calling my name.
It’s the best thing I’ve ever heard in my entire existence, and I’ve seen German tenor Jonas Kaufman perform at the LA Opera.
“Fuck, Maeve. You’re perfect.” He catches his breath, just barely, while shifting his weight behind me.
“Now it’s your turn to come for me.” He moves his hand away from my clit.
One hand grabs my hips, angling me just right as he yanks me down onto him and holds me there.
The other hand flicks my clit. He only needs to do this twice to draw out my orgasm. I come all over his dick with a scream.
When the shaking stops, I go limp, all my weight supported by the stiff cock inside me.
Whatever thoughts I had before are long gone, chased away by the endorphins buzzing in my brain.
Later, in the early hours, after a few more rounds and a messy shared shower, I lie awake and take him in.
Kellin claims he’s a light sleeper, one eye open and that whole thing. But his rhythmic breathing reveals otherwise.
As his chest goes up and down, I study the scar on his shoulder, as well as the one on his right hand. Definitely a knife wound.
That could be from anything. An accident in shop class. The slip of a paring knife. I’ve seen that in our kitchen plenty.
But his shoulder. A scar clearly from a bullet?
Maybe just a case of wrong place, wrong time. Bad luck.
Still, I can’t help but wonder about the story behind the wound.
In sleep, he seems so peaceful. He’s gorgeous all the time, but awake, his face always appears just a little bit worried.
Perhaps that’s not the correct word.
He appears to be thinking. Concentrating. This restful version of Kellin could pass for someone five years younger than that other guy.
I want to tell him everything. Confess who I am and admit how much I’m falling for him. Ask him, again, if he’d consider long distance. I bet the guy that’s sleeping so contentedly next to me would reciprocate my feelings and agree in a heartbeat.
But the “awake” Kellin, the Zenith bigwig that lives in a high-rise in SoHo and probably has the perfect life waiting for him back home…
What would he agree to?
Where would I even fit in?
Maybe this is just a fling for him.
But until I know for sure, a girl can dream.