Chapter 14
Emee
Ican’t believe this is me.
My control is hanging by a fraying thread. My palms are sweaty. My head feels like it’s full of bubble wrap going pop, pop, pop.
And, I don’t even want to think about what’s happening in the slip of fabric between my legs.
The pinching in my left ovary is more than just PMS.
In the three days since King’s first session and the whole fire situation, he hasn’t gone an hour without calling or texting me when we are apart.
After my orgasm blackout yesterday, he soothed me in bed, making me the little spoon for a change. Since, thanks to his caveman impulses, I had no clients for the rest of the day, he lingered with me.
He ordered room service, then we took a leisurely shower that ended with his mouth once again between my legs, only this time there was the added bonus of him introducing me to the joy of his tongue and fingers working my back entrance.
I exploded at the dark pleasure he gave with such unselfish passion, I felt guilty. I climbed him like a tree, mounting myself on him as he banged me up against the shower wall until I went limp, and he filled me with another round of his special hot, raw pleasure.
He left for practice, returning to be sure I had dinner, then snuggled me to sleep in the enormous king-sized bed after another round of rough, slippery sex, followed by the softest, sweetest cuddle I’ve ever experienced.
He left during the night, leaving a note with a scribbled heart, criss-crossed with two hockey sticks.
I’ll be back, be a good girl, drink the bottle of water I left. All of it. Then go pee again. There’s cranberry juice in the mini fridge. Drink that too. No UTI’s on my watch, baby.
If that wasn’t enough, we sort of… well… sexted. While I was in the shower this morning, he had me set up my phone where I could see it and told me all the things he’d do to me, and all the things I should do to myself. The waterproof rose toy he had delivered to the room in a plain brown bag earned its money, and I was left swaying and trembling and feeling dirtier than ever in my life as I toweled myself dry, trying to remind myself there was business to conduct today.
The hotel has become my home away from home, even though I’m getting a little cabin fever.
As I sit by the window, watching the traffic below on Vernier, he’s texting again.
King:How did sunrise yoga go?
Me:Fine. Looking forward to seeing you at your session. Eight sharp, don’t be late.
King: I know you are wet.
Me:Please, stop.
I giggle and touch my tongue to my lips, considering the idea of getting my fingers between my legs. Then I glance at the door.
Me:I don’t have time for this. I have someone coming over.
King: Baby, I’m a jealous mother fucker, so who is coming to your room this early besides me?
Me: LOL. An old girlfriend, you Neanderthal.
King: Can’t help it, firecracker. You drive me crazy. I’ll let you go, but we need to discuss my suspension. The team lost last night. I gotta get back on the ice.
That makes me pause.
Red flags are flying high as the thought niggles at me that he only slept with me to get his suspension lifted.
No way. My instincts can be that far off.
Me: I have to be careful. If anyone found out about us, it wouldn’t just be my career. My friendship with Dr. Hoffman would be on the line too. He trusted me, this could come back on him just as much.
King: Got it. I’m just getting pressure here, to get back to the team.
Me: I know. Let me see what I can do.
King: If I had to choose between the team and you, there’s no contest. You know that, right?
Me: I wouldn’t want that.
I hesitate before sending the message, the urge to say three little words so strong I have pressure behind my eyes. I love you. But they’re so easy to say in the wrong place, so hard to take back once they’re out there. What if I said it, and he didn’t say anything back? What if this isn’t what I hope it is?
I type it out.
I love you.
Ugg. Backspace, backspace…
I re-group, then send another.
Me:I have to go, my friend is going to be here soon.
King: I’ll be there at eight.
I’ve never metanyone as infuriating or as sexy as this man. I’m aware enough to know that what’s going on between us is twin-flame level crazy.
I have goals, and alienating the NHL not only puts my business in jeopardy, but also my chances of keeping Benjamin alive and well and housed and fed.
Never mind my Martha Stewart Turkey Hill dreams. That seems to be last on the list right now.
There’s a knock at the door to my suite, and my heart lurches in my chest even though I know who it is.
I pad across the cool marble floor, wrapped in one of the bamboo and silk fluffy white robes with The Lux embroidered in gold over my heart, and peer through the little peephole to see Anita’s cherub face with the bug-like curve caused by the lens.
I unlatch the secondary lock and the deadbolt, and swing open the heavy door.
“Girl. Let me in, this cheesecake weighs, like, ten pounds.”
She shuffles inside, making a kissing sound toward my cheek as she passes, and I latch the door shut behind her.
“I only have, like, five minutes.” She flusters as she sets down the little carrier with two extra-tall coffees and the white box tied with a string onto the gleaming dining room table surrounded by ten chairs. Then she grabs one of the coffees and chugs a huge gulp, screwing up her face as she swallows, though whether from the heat or the harsh flavor of the triple-strength brew she always goes for is anyone’s guess. “My boss called while I was in the elevator. There’s an impromptu board meeting, and I have to be across town by seven thirty. Damn,” She finally stops for a breath, looking around. “Holy shit, this place is incredible. You’ve arrived, my friend.”
I nod, but I’m more disappointed that she can’t stay. I needed some girl bonding in the worst way. “What? I wanted a nice cheesecake and coffee breakfast with my bestie.”
“Sorry, girl. Life’s a bitch. And so am I.” She crosses her arms over her sheer white blouse, a blue lacy corset underneath that she’s paired with skintight torn Levi’s, rolled up at the ankles, showing off a pair of chunky distressed-leather heeled booties.
She’s always had this amazing, effortless style I’ve envied. But, since we met our freshman year at Michigan State, she’s been on a mission to upgrade my wardrobe and style sense.
It’s worked. When I showed up in our dorm room, high style to me was pairing my gray sweats with a lace-trimmed tank top and blue jean jacket.
I still think that’s a perfectly acceptable outfit, but she’s worked hard on broadening my fashion horizons, and for a girl from the trailer park, I pride myself on being able to tell a knock off pair of Louboutins from the real deal.
“So, how’s the hockey dude?” she says, flipping open the top on the white bakery box and waving a white plastic fork in my direction.
Before I can take it, or answer her question, my phone starts buzzing against the tabletop. Benjamin’s photo fills the screen.
I hesitate, and Anita raises an eyebrow.
“Gonna answer that?”
I sigh and shake my head. “It’s Benjamin. He’s in trouble.”
She rolls her eyes as the phone stops buzzing. “When isn’t he in trouble? Honestly, I know he’s your brother, but you put up with too much bullshit from him. My brother asks me for money, I send him job listings.”
“That’s not fair,” I say defensively, feeling my cheeks heat with protective sibling fury.
“I know you don’t like to hear it, but—”
“You don’t understand.”
“So make me understand,” she says, digging into the dessert. “Why do you put up with his shit?”
“You weren’t there when we were growing up. Our home life was f’d up.”
“Whose wasn’t?”
“Anita, you grew up in a mansion. You had maids and a damned butler.”
She shrugs. “Yeah, and I spent more time with them than my parents. You think that doesn’t mess a person up?”
“Okay, fair.” I meet her eyes and try to remind myself that privilege doesn’t always equal happiness. “Our home life was messed up in… other ways. I looked after Benjamin like a mother sometimes.”
“So you feel, like, some sort of motherly instinct, is that it?” She narrows her eyes, then points at the cheesecake. “You gonna eat any of this?”
I take the second fork, and hover over the cake, but don’t dig in. “It’s not just that. When it came down to it, Benjamin was my protector too. More than once, he took a beating from our father that was meant for me.”
That makes her pause. She stares at me. “Jesus Christ.”
I nod. “Like I said, messed up. He defended me from my father, and stepped in and took when my father’s friends would try to get me to sit on their laps and…All I could do was run, hide and cry, and then get him ice and aspirin and Band-Aids.”
She draws a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have ever told you, but…”
“But I opened my big mouth and started talking about shit I have no right to.”
“No. You’re right in a way. His life is a disaster, and he brings on the chaos. But I can’t just stand by and watch him get hurt.” I take a bite of the creamy cheesecake. “Anyway, you asked about King.”
“Who?”
“King Hertzof.” I watch her face for any recognition, then start to laugh. “The hockey dude.”
“Oh, right! Yeah, the hockey dude. I looked him up. Very nice… stick.” She giggles.
And like that, the conversation about my past and my brother is forgotten. I’ve known Anita long enough to know she doesn’t dwell on the negatives. It’s something I love about her, even if it rubs other people up the wrong way. At least this way, I’m not left upset over memories from the past.
“So… how are things going with him?”
“Annoying.”
She stabs at the decadent dessert, bringing a bite to her mouth while giving me ‘the look’.
“That’s it. Annoying. I mean…” I throw one hand up while digging into the cheesecake with her, holding the bite on my fork in front of my mouth. “I just… He’s sort of infuriating.”
She smiles, chewing away with that knowing look in her eyes. We eat another bite in silence as that butterfly feeling twitters below my belly button.
Anita takes a gulp of her coffee, holding it in one hand, the fork in the other, crossing her arms as she watches me chew.
“What?” I blurt, mouth still full, turning my hands up.
“Did you kiss him?” She narrows her dark eyes at me. Her sleek black hair falls forward as she lowers her chin, straight dark tendrils brushing her jawline. She stares at me for a moment, then, “You did!” she bursts, and my head falls back as I groan at the ceiling. “Shit. Fuck. You kissed him and—”
“Stop looking at me!” I snap, turning away. She can read me like no one else.
“If I didn’t have to leave, you’d be spilling all the tea. But, God damn it.” She taps the screen of her phone on the table. “My boss is already getting fucking cramps without me there. Such a baby. I hate man babies.”
Her boss is a tool. She’s been working at Evergreen Marketing Group since she got her undergrad, and it’s a small boutique agency, but in a short time, she’s already basically running the entire creative department.
Which is not surprising. She won every graphic design competition and award in school and has more artistic talent in her pinky finger than I have in my entire body.
“We are talking later. Drinks at Don’s, six o’clock?”
I nod as she gathers her phone and coffee, stepping my way for a side hug and air kiss.
Guilt sends a chill over my skin as another call from Benjamin flashes on the screen of my phone, but I let it go to voicemail.
I don’t have anything for him. I don’t have a solution to his problem yet. I will, but not yet.
I shake my head back and forth, dread sinking into my bones, knowing I have to figure something out. And fast.
But, for this moment, right here, I’m going to stick a pin in that problem and finish the world’s best breakfast.
Twenty minutes later, I’m riding a maple bacon cheesecake and double espresso high, and simultaneously dreading and counting the seconds until I hear the knock on my door.