Chapter Ten
Tulya
With my back plastered against the wall and Donovan’s hard body pressing into mine, our lips ravaging one another, I wanted to stay like this forever.
“You feel so good,” I boldly said, certain I’d never spoken those words to anyone.
I’d had three or four boyfriends since high school, all of them Rubian, none of them remarkable, probably since they were all Ezza-approved.
Donovan’s hand gripped my waist, snapping me back to the present, squeezing ever so gently, holding me in place and sending sparks throughout my body. A low growl emanated from Don’s chest, and he continued to devour my mouth before pulling away abruptly.
I felt my mouth hanging open in shock, something my mother would have been disgusted by.
“You are hungry,” Donovan stated matter-of-factly. “Let’s get something to eat…and then pick up where we left off.” He followed this all with a wink.
“Maybe we should talk?” I stood up straight, smoothing my dress, wondering if this had been a smart idea.
“Eat and talk,” he said, walking toward the room service menu lying on the carpet. “Do you still want to stay in?”
“If we can eat on the balcony, I do.”
He nodded and picked up the phone.
“Are you going to ask me what I want?” The whole dating thing was a bit unknown to me, but I was pretty sure I could decide what I felt like eating.
“Hi, room service?” Donovan kept going with the call. “We would like one of each entrée, and one of every dessert.”
I raised an eyebrow when he looked up.
Holding his hand over the receiver, he said, “This way we don’t waste time looking at the menu.”
I decided a glass of water was in order and poured myself a Pellegrino.
Now, Donovan padded toward me, phone call over, and he wrapped an arm around my waist from behind. “I shouldn’t want you as much as I do, but here we are,” he whispered in my ear.
“Don’t hurt me,” I whispered back, which was easier said while not looking at him. Somewhere deep inside, I knew the pain would be inevitable. My mind was screaming his mom has an arrangement for him, while the heart beating in my chest simply didn’t care.
He didn’t say never, or I won’t. He replied, “I don’t ever want to hurt you, Tulya.”
I craved him so badly, this was enough for me.
It was sometime in the middle of the afternoon, Donovan sat on the floor, still wearing his suit pants, dress shirt untucked, feet under the coffee table, with a half-eaten spread in front of him.
I’d stood up to get myself some more water but couldn’t help sneaking a glance at the man in front of me.
We’d laughed over the enormous amount of food he’d ordered and then devoured a bite of everything. It had been more fun than expected.
“I’ve never had a room service party before,” I admitted, showing another card I probably shouldn’t have. Messing around with Donovan was a game of high-stakes poker, and the house always won.
“Room service picnic,” he corrected.
“I like it.” I spoke freely, smiling. It was the first time I’d felt genuine happiness in a long while.
“This is really good,” Donovan said, pulling me into the present, helping himself to some more chicken paillard.
We were only eating, a basic function. I needed to stop getting ahead of myself. “It was, but I have to say I’m partial to that burger,” I joked while slipping next to him, our thighs touching on the floor.
“Have a bite.” He pointed to the plate with the ginormous cheeseburger and onion rings.
“I’m saving myself for that chocolate cake.”
“Are you now?” Donovan raised an eyebrow and reached for the plate with the molten lava cake, or whatever they called it.
“I love the way the center melts…”
He put a spoon in the middle of the confection and opened up the pastry, allowing the gooey sauce to run over the plate.
Scooping up equal parts cake and chocolate lava, he brought the spoon to my mouth.
Like a well-trained dog, I opened my mouth and bit down on the offering, a moan of unparalleled proportions coming from the back of my throat.
With watchful eyes, Donovan spoke. “That’s torture. Plain torture, watching you do that.”
He scooped a second bite and teased my lips with the spoon. My body obeyed, my tongue coming out to taste the goodness.
“You try,” I kind of mumbled.
“Are you sure?” he teased, one side of his mouth turning up in a smile.
I nodded, grabbing the spoon, filling it with chocolate lava and lifting it to his mouth. He took the bite with fervor.
It didn’t take him long to snatch the spoon back and set it on the coffee table, before yanking me close and taking me in a long kiss.
He slid us together to the carpet until we were lying side by side, our lips in a well-choreographed tango. His palms held on to my cheeks and his forehead lightly grazed mine.
“A chocolate kiss,” he grumbled into my mouth and my hips scooched closer to him.
We stayed like that for a while, kissing, grinding like two young fools, as if we didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Our breathing in sync, Donovan was the only oxygen I needed in this moment.
When he broke free, his lips ghosted my forehead, then my cheek, before he spoke. “You’re so beautiful, Tulya.”
All my barriers tumbled down with these couple of words.
To think, a few days ago, that I was resistant to any come-ons from this man.
“Back at you, Donovan,” I said, smoothing my hand down his face, taking him in…
“What are we doing?” The question popped out of my mouth without my directing it to, and I wanted to take it back.
I didn’t care what we were doing; I wanted to do it.
“We’re doing what we want. That’s what,” was all Donovan said.
Sadly, we were interrupted by his phone ringing.
“It’s Magnum,” he said, and I knew the magical moment was behind us.
Maybe it was for the best.
I didn’t wait around for much after overhearing that Magnum had spoken to Valerie and she was back in Miami. I knew what task was staring me in the face—the hardest job I’d ever been asked to do. Without saying anything to Donovan, I retreated to my room and filled the bathtub.
Enveloped in vanilla-scented bubbles, I closed my eyes and dreamed of a life where I wasn’t in servitude to Rubia. One where I didn’t have to make sure everyone else was pain-free, except me.
My phone rang, pulling me from any delusions of love I might have been having. Drying my hand, I picked it up and set it on the side of the tub on speakerphone.
“Caro?” My sister’s name bumbled out of my mouth like a question, likely because we didn’t speak daily at home. We loved one another, but Caro was an extrovert, and I was the resident introvert.
“Tuvy, are you okay? Mom just told me everything. She’s back from the Minister’s.”
He might be our uncle, but we never called him by his name—Elon—only the Minister.
“I’m fine. I haven’t really had to do much yet… I guess I’m waiting on Cinder, and then it will all start…” I sank a little deeper into the bubbly warmth.
“That’s why I’m calling. Apparently Cinder is refusing to come now. She’s very upset about—” I heard her take a breath. “The kid,” she finished, her voice almost nonexistent.
“What?” I’d never expected that. My mind was always on Cinder getting what, or who, she wanted.
“She’s keeping Magnum,” I stated, thinking she was getting exactly what she’d begged for and then some.
“Isn’t that all she wants? Her man?” I spoke quietly, wondering if maybe Cinder would give up and move on, and I wouldn’t have to do the transfer.
“Yes, but she said since he had a child with someone else, apparently that takes something away from her. Makes it less special. At least that’s what I heard through my channels.”
This gave me a little laugh. My sister had channels, and I craved peace and solitude.
“The Minister won’t allow her not to raise Blake as her own.
You heard Blake can do some complicated emotional telling or showing already, in kinder?
” There was no reason to lie to Caro; she’d hear it eventually if not already.
“Mom told me as much, and said to keep it quiet. But she is now telling Cinder she has no choice but to come and follow through. Mom is spitting mad, and annoyed she has to do the Minister’s dirty work while holding Ceci together. By the way, Ceci is crying nonstop and I haven’t seen Magnum.”
I blew out a long exhale.
“Are you okay?” my sister thought to ask me. “Is Donovan being nice?”
I slopped my free hand out of the water and dried it on the towel over the edge of the tub. With it, I attempted to smooth my hair back, feeling fidgety over the Donovan conversation. “I’m fine, mostly spending time in my room outside of doing what is needed.”
“At the Christmas party, I saw you two talking. I wondered if maybe there was more.”
There was no way I was giving in to my sister’s prying or theorizing. “No, he was ordering a drink and I was at the bar.”
“Hmm,” she responded.
I knew Caro, and she was a dog with a bone when it came to gossip.
But we were not flirting, at least not for long.
Donovan was apparently betrothed, and I was forbidden to be happy for some unknown reason.
For a quick beat, I wondered who Ceci had picked for him, and I couldn’t help but be curious why it was under such wraps.
Caro finally relented and changed the conversation. “I thought maybe you would make it back for Christmas, but I think Cinder is really digging her heels in. I’m sorry, I’ll miss you.”
“Yes, it looks like I’ll be having dinner in the hotel and taking a hot bath for the holiday.”
“Sounds sort of nice, yeah?” My sister didn’t enjoy the confines of routine and the holiday the way I did. Caro was to excitement and living loud like I was to solitude and quiet.
“You know what? It kind of does,” I admitted, letting Caro off the hook.
“Listen, call me if you need to talk,” she said in a rare moment of sisterly love.
“Will do.” I hit end call and laid my head back and closed my eyes.
This was apparently my new normal.