CHAPTER 8
SYNDAL
I haven’t been able to stop smiling all day. As much as I welcome the feeling, it’s also kind of strange. There have been moments when I catch myself smiling with warm cheeks and happiness in my heart and it feels too big, like it’s too good.
And it’s all because of Joss.
When I opened my door last night, not expecting to find Joss on the other side, I was so glad to see him.
We weren’t planning on seeing each other last night, I was only supposed to get work done, but the entire time I was pouring chocolates and planning out my next few days of preparation, all I could think about was him.
Hell, he’s all I’ve thought about since the moment I met him, and it has only gotten worse since our first date almost a week ago.
I was always that person who thought celebrating small anniversaries was silly, but I kind of get it now.
I want to celebrate tomorrow for being a week since our first date, even if Joss says it wasn’t our first official one.
I kind of want to celebrate everything. Why shouldn’t the little things be celebrated anyway? Who says that it only matters once it’s been a year and then only every year after that? I think we’re really missing out here.
“You look happy,” Cindy’s voice sounds an octave higher than it normally does.
When I look up at her, I see a flash of annoyance cross her features before she hides it. The smile she plasters on her face is fake as hell. I know because I do the same thing when I’m at events. It’s plastic and looks like it could slip from her lips at any moment.
Even though I don’t trust her expression, not really, her words are what give me pause. She thinks I look happy. When I think about it, really think about it, the truth of it all dawns on me.
I am happy.
It’s not a completely foreign concept or anything, but it’s just this happiness is tinted with something sweeter. This is something that isn’t just about me, which is both amazing and scary. It feels precious and fragile. Could I lose it at any moment?
“I am happy, Cindy,” I admit and smile at her.
“Oh?” Her eyebrows shoot up and she leans closer to me, her eyes keen as they study me. “You have a glow about you,” she murmurs before her eyes go wide. “You met someone.”
I huff out a small laugh and my face warms. The grown woman in front of me flaps her hands like she’s about to take flight. It’s ridiculous, but also kind of nice in a strange way.
“Who did you meet? Do you have a picture? You have to show me,” her voice is filled with excitement.
And I get caught up in it for a moment. I don’t really know why.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a girlfriend.
I had one in high school, but right before she left for college, I found out that she was only my friend to make herself feel better about her body.
She wanted a sidekick who was bigger than her and I fit the bill.
Cruelty comes in many forms.
I’ve found it difficult to trust women since then. I’m sure that’s not hard to understand.
Even if it wasn’t real, that doesn’t mean I don’t miss it. There’s something about going to someone who you believe cares about you in a way that isn’t selfish. That kind of friendship fills you with worth and love in a way that’s important.
And I haven’t had it for far too long.
I pull my phone out of my purse and pull up the book cover I saw recently with him on it. Did I save it to my phone? Of course. When I turn it toward her, I watch as emotions flit across Cindy’s face.
Lust.
Curiosity.
Disbelief.
Surprise.
Hatred.
Jealousy.
It’s the last one burning in her eyes when she meets my gaze and it feels like her focus is too intense and contains far too much intent. And it feels cruel.
“That’s who you met?” Each word is an arrow that pierces me right where she wants it to.
“Yes,” I whisper, the word like paper instead of steel.
“No.”
I blink at her a few times, completely flummoxed for a moment. What? Did she just say ‘no’? That’s it?
“I did meet him. We’re dating?”
Internally I wince because I hate how it sounded more like a question than surety. Cindy’s eyes light up as if she’s caught me. She hasn’t because I know the truth, but it doesn’t mean a damn thing.
Not with victory shining in her eyes.
“No way,” she sneers, the real her coming through and proving I was right the entire time. Being right isn’t a win at the moment, it’s just a set-up with no escape. With a dismissive wave of her hand, she states, like it’s fact, “That is not the man you’re dating.”
“I am. I met him at one of the events where I had a table. He works security at the convention center. His name is Joss.”
I’m babbling and giving out way more information than I really want to or should. But I also can’t stop. It’s like I need to prove the truth of this to her even though it makes no sense and I know, just know, that I should stop this conversation right here and now.
Her expression turns vicious and her lip curls. “There is no way that a man like him, who looks like him, would ever be interested in you,” she says the last word like a curse. Like I should be ashamed of my body, of my skin, of my very existence.
She has no idea how many years I spent doing exactly that and how hard I’ve worked on loving myself. It’s still a work in progress, which it should be because I still have a lot of life to live, one I’m probably failing at more often than not.
Her words hurt. Her derision and disbelief sting.
She makes a tsking sound with her tongue. “You won’t even come out for a drink. So even if you do know him, which I don’t really believe,” she adds on like I’m not already very aware, “there is no way he’d be interested in you, nor would you be able to keep him.”
I glance at the clock on my desk and breathe a sigh of relief. It’s time to go. Normally I don’t engage with Cindy this long, but today she stuck around to cut me down. I turn off my computer with the press of a button, not caring about shutting it down properly. Fuck that and fuck this place.
As I stand up, I grab my bag and turn toward Cindy. She’s looking at me with a smug expression on her face as if she’s won something. She hasn’t.
“I see you, Cindy,” my voice wobbles a little because confrontation doesn’t come easy to me.
“I see the horrible person you are behind the smiles and the part you play.” The smile slips from her face, and she pales slightly, as if she’s only just now realizing how ugly she was being.
I lean toward her, my voice hollow and ominous, “Don’t stop by my desk again unless you have real work to discuss with me.
No more pretending with me because I know the truth.
Leave me alone and I’ll extend the same courtesy to you without outing you as the nasty bitch you are. ”
She sucks in a breath and presses a hand to her chest as if I’ve offended her. But I don’t give a fuck. Not anymore.
That doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t hurt. They are. I hate it so damn much, but her words do feel like they’ve lodged themselves between my ribs, right where I have no protection.
I don’t like the way they make my own doubt grow, the doubt that was a little voice in my mind who was whispering not to trust, not to believe, and to guard myself.
The voice that has already made me wonder what Joss sees in me and why a guy like him, who is ripped, fit, and sexy as hell, would want someone like me.
I’ve tried to ignore it, but now the voice is louder. All because of Cindy.
The entire drive home, her words are swirling around in my mind. Are they true? My stomach clenches. I’m on auto pilot and it feels like I don’t breathe until I’m sitting in front of my house. I find myself staring out the window, but I’m not really seeing anything.
I can’t. All I can see are Cindy’s eyes. She was so sure I didn’t even know Joss, let alone was dating him.
The knock on my window scares me half to death and I scream as I jolt and turn toward the sound. When Joss’s face is there, my entire body relaxes instinctually.
When he knocks on the window, I unlock the door and it swings open and then he’s there with his warm palms cupping my cheeks. His thumbs wipe away tears I didn’t even realize were there in the first place. I’m just proud of myself that I didn’t cry in front of Cindy. At least, I don’t think I did.
“What’s wrong, Sugar?”
I sniffle and blink as I try to get myself under control. Before I can stop myself, everything that just happened spills out of me. Joss doesn’t interrupt, he just listens without moving, his brown eyes intent and focused on me.
When I’m done, my voice is shaky, but there’s something soothing in sharing my pain. Joss doesn’t say anything at first. He simply unbuckles me and then gently guides me out of my car and toward my front door.
We hadn’t made plans to see each other today, but he wasn’t scheduled to work, and I hoped to see him. I need to stay on track for next weekend’s event, but I have a little time. He’s busy tomorrow and doing a photo shoot.
Suddenly, the thought of him at the shoot makes my stomach flip and not in a good way. Before Cindy got in my head, I was looking forward to hearing all about it. Now, it makes me want to curl up under my fluffiest blanket and let the world disappear.
Once we’re inside, Joss’s strong hands grip my shoulders, and he spins us until he’s pressing me against the door. He looks down on me, his jaw clenched and his eyes burning with a protective fire. His touch makes me shiver.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Joss’s voice is gruff and earnest. “That woman,” he spits the words with obvious disgust, “should have kept her mouth shut. She was talking from a place of jealousy. You are the only woman I want Syndal,” his words are forceful as if earnestness will help me believe them.
It fucking works. I do believe him, but that doesn’t heal the wounds opened on my soul today.
His large body presses against mine. He’s all hard ridges and I’m all soft curves.
“I love your body,” he murmurs, his voice holding a softness that feels like it’s only reserved for me.
Then I’m up and in his arms. Again. I cling to him, my eyes going wide as I watch him. The man doesn’t even breathe heavily as he carries me to my room. I don’t ask him what he’s doing this time; I just hold on for dear life while hoping he doesn’t drop me.
When he puts me on my feet next to my bed, he starts undressing me and himself. “Wh-what are you doing?” My voice shakes as I fight my inner voice who is telling me to cover myself and not let him see my body.
It doesn’t matter that he’s seen me before, just last night. I’m battling myself, my fears, and it’s not easy.
His dark eyes bore into mine. “I’m showing you just how much I love your body, Syn.
All day the only thing I could think about was your softness pressed up against me and sinking my cock into your tight pussy.
I’m going to make my fantasies into a reality and I’m going to fuck those mean words right out of your head. ”
I blink at him a few times, unsure if I really heard him right. Can you really fuck words out of someone’s head? Honestly, Joss looks determined as hell to make it happen. Maybe he really can.
When we’re both naked, his fingers dig into my shoulders, the feeling grounding me, before he spins me around and bends me over the side of my bed. He curls himself over my back and his lips brush the shell of my ear as he commands, “Get on your hands and knees, Sugar.”
I crawl up onto the bed, feeling both exposed and aroused. I can feel the gentle puffs of air as he kneels behind me, his lips close enough to my pussy to tease, but not enough to touch. Yet.
He lets out a low groan before he dives mouth first between my thighs.
His tongue pushes past my pussy lips and sinks into me as far as he can go.
The feel of his large hands gripping my ass and spreading me wide open should have me feeling mortified, but it doesn’t.
It makes me feel sexy as hell, especially when his fingers tighten and he growls against my arousal coated flesh.
His mouth slides down and then he’s sucking my clit into his mouth as he slides two fingers deep inside of me. He curls them perfectly and hits a spot inside of me that has me seeing stars and makes my toes curl.
I don’t know what he does with his tongue, but it feels like being slingshot into the stratosphere. I come, hard. My entire body is shaking, and I swear I black out for a moment.
Joss manhandles me further up onto the bed and then he’s slamming inside me with brutal force.
I cry out, the sound echoing off the walls of my bedroom.
One of his hands tangles in my hair and the other wraps around my throat.
While holding himself still inside of me, he uses his grip to position me on my knees.
I’m on his lap with my back plastered to his chest and I’ve never felt sexier.
His lips ghost the shell of my ear and goosebumps cover my skin as a moan escapes my lips. His thrusts start out slow and measured, lulling my body into pliant compliance. I move my hips back to meet his thrust, wanting more, needing it.
“You’re mine, Syndal,” he growls against my ear. “I love your body. It’s curvy, soft, and makes my dick so fucking hard that it hurts. I want to be buried inside of you all the time and I’m going to prove it to you.”
Then, with a growl, he starts to fuck me harder and faster.
I’m already so damn close to falling over the edge again and my mind blanks with the pleasure of it all.
I don’t think about Cindy and her words.
I don’t think about what I should be doing to prepare for the event next weekend.
I don’t think about a model flirting with Joss at the photoshoot tomorrow.
All I can think about is him and pleasure.
I fall into the feeling and give myself over to this man. I might as well. I’ve already fallen in love with him, even if it means I’ll be hurt in the end.
This feeling makes it all worth it.
I think.
I hope.
And when I come again, Joss is right behind me and filling me with his cum. It’s a claiming and the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.