Chapter 19

Nineteen

SARA

At four-thirty in the morning,my limo arrived. It glided through the city, easily navigating at the early hour. The sky was a hazy, navy blue that slowly paled as it prepared to welcome the warming rays of the June sun. Looking around at the interior, I shook my head in disbelief. I could’ve taken an Uber, but Tom was determined to shower me with luxury. I’d never even been to Teterboro Airport, and the thought of flying on a private jet had me pinching myself to see if I was dreaming. I’d told Tom I was perfectly okay flying coach on a commercial flight, but of course he refused.

I guess what was the point of having a filthy rich boyfriend if you couldn’t be chauffeured around in fancy cars and be flown on private jets, right?

Boyfriend… I didn’t know why I called him that. We hadn’t talked about making our relationship official. All I knew was that we were infatuated with each other, wanting—needing to spend every single second of the day together or talking or texting or daydreaming about being naked and Tom doing all sorts of filthy things to my body. At least he’d promised as much.

Stars. Felt like we were free-falling off the Empire State building.

The limo drove me up to the hanger where a full flight crew greeted me like I was a celebrity. I was the only passenger on board the twelve-passenger charter, which felt like a total waste. Once in my seat, I was told we’d be taking off shortly, so I took the opportunity to give Tom a brief call, though I knew he was likely still asleep on the West Coast.

A groggy and crackly voice answered on the other end. “Hey, baby.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Nah.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

He chuckled. “I tried to stay up, but sleep beat me. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t have to wait up for my call. I was going to just leave you a message.”

“I needed to make sure you made it okay to the airport.”

“You know, between you and Jen, you guys should be my parents. I’m a big girl. I think I can figure out how to board a plane.”

“I’m sure you can, baby, but I also wanted to hear your voice. I’m lonely here. I miss you.”

I smirked. “It hasn’t been that long.”

“I guess that means you haven’t missed me.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“What’s the matter, you sound edgy. Are you nervous?”

Tom was either supernaturally attuned to me or I was terrible at hiding my emotions.

“A bit,” I said.

“About flying?”

“About everything. This trip…us.”

There was some silence, before he said, “There’s still time to turn around.”

“No. I want to come see you. I need to see you.”

“It’s only six hours, Sara. You’ll be here in my arms before you know it.”

“By the way. Thank you for the private charter, though you know it wasn’t necessary. I would have been fine in coach.”

He laughed. “You’ve told me. But why would I put you in coach when I can fly you in absolute comfort? Relax, would you? Enjoy it.”

I took a deep breath and tried to relieve the tension crawling up my spine. “Six hours?”

“Yes, baby. I will be waiting for you. Call me as soon as you land.”

“Okay. We’re starting to taxi. I…ah…”

“I can’t wait to see you,” he said, taking the words from my mouth.

“Me too.”

* * *

Six hours later, my flight began to descend. I couldn’t wait to get off the metal bird. As amazing as it felt to be catered to like I was some famous person or the one with the millions, I’d had enough of being enclosed inside a tube. Needing to hear Tom’s voice, as soon as we landed, I turned on my cell and called him.

He picked up after two rings. “Hi, baby,” he chirped.

“Just landed.”

“I know. I’ve been here for like…forty minutes, watching the monitors.”

“Can’t wait to see you.”

“Me, too. You have no idea! I’ll be waiting for you by the hangar.”

“Okay, see you in a few.”

When we were done taxing to the hanger, I jumped out of my seat and reached for my carryon, though my flight attendant made sure I wouldn’t carry anything down. My knees trembled as we disembarked. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, Tom stood with a huge grin carving across his cheeks.

I drank in the sight of his body and almost couldn’t believe this was the same guy I’d fallen for in New York. Back in Manhattan, he was always dressed to impress. Here? He was dressed like a surfer about to hit the beach. A blue tank top stretched across his torso, showing off his tan muscles. A pair of red, board shorts rested right at his narrow hips, and a pair of brown leather slip-on sandals completed his ensemble.

After the drought of not seeing him for days, the sight of him was like pouring iced cold water on my face after spending a day in the Mojave Desert.

I sprint-walked down the stairs and threw my arms around his neck. The fresh, salty scent of the ocean on his skin conjured images of paradise. He set me down, and pressing his lips to mine, he dried up any lingering doubt I had about coming to see him. This felt right.

Hefelt right.

I’d not told him, but as much as I wanted to rip off his clothes already, I’d come prepared to spend less time tangled in his sheets and more time actually getting to know him—his past, his family, his hobbies. Everything. But when his tongue parted my lips and I felt that electric wire that ran the length of my spine vibrate with erotic promise, I realized that resisting this man for the next three days would be completely futile and potentially one of the inanest ideas I could have ever had.

Separating from our kiss, Tom tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ears then caressed my jaw with his fingers. “Christ. Sara, I’ve missed you so much. Here, let me take that.” Tom grabbed my carryon with one hand and entwined his fingers in mine with his other. “This is all the luggage you have?”

“Why is that so surprising?”

“Don’t women usually pack a ton of stuff?”

“I’m not that kind of woman.”

He smirked. “They feed you on the plane?”

“The service was amazing, but I was too nervous to really stomach anything. I can certainly eat now.”

“I can take you to a restaurant nearby, or we can drive back to my place and I can cook you breakfast?”

“Your place sounds fantastic. I’d also love a shower.”

He raised an eyebrow, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Shower, huh?”

I pinched his side. “Stop it. I know what you’re thinking.”

He chortled. “I’m not thinking anything.”

“Yeah…” I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it either, though—our bodies naked and writhing to our own rhythm, us heated and washed in sweat. I shook my head at my thoughts. This was not going to be easy.

The sun was bright and hot, casting beautiful highlights off Tom’s tousled golden-brown hair. He was a creature to behold. Tall and masculine, Tom looked divine in that tank top that clung to his torso in all the right places, accentuating all his lean muscles and tone physique. His sun-kissed skin glowed, making him look youthful and less stressed. It was as if here, he could strip off the suit and just be Tom.

This was the man I wanted to get to know.

In the parking lot, we stopped as we approached a red Mercedes-Benz boxy SUV waiting for us, all the windows rolled down. “Well, this is an interesting car. For some reason, I pictured you driving a fancy sports car through the streets of Los Angeles.”

His brow creased. “Me? In a fancy sports car?”

“Isn’t that what you L.A. people drive around here?”

“You L.A. people?” he asked as he threw my carryon onto the back seat, then he held the passenger door open for me and helped me up. “I was born and raised upstate New York. I’m one-hundred percent not L.A. people.”

“You know what I mean. Successful, young guys on the prowl.”

When he jumped into the driver seat, he looked at me with those sparkling golden-olive eyes I had been missing so much. “First, why would I be on the prowl when I’ve got you?” he asked with a wink. “And second, just because I can, it doesn’t mean I always have to drive some fancy sports car. Plus, when I’m out here, I try to spend as little time as possible in the city. I prefer being near the water surfing or in the mountains hiking. The AMG makes more sense for me.”

“AMG?

“It’s the SUV model.”

I took in the cool and sleek interior with all the high-tech mixed with luxury design and rolled my eyes. My Jeep was prehistoric compared to this. I couldn’t even fathom how to use this car. Shifting the SUV into drive, we took off toward Santa Monica.

“I didn’t know you surfed,” I said as I tied my hair back so it wouldn’t whip against my face.

“I can take you with me tomorrow, if you like?”

“I don’t have the slightest clue how to surf.”

“I can teach you. We’ll have a blast. And I get to see you in a bikini.”

“I didn’t bring a bikini.”

“Even better.” He tried to hold back a devilish grin.

I simply shook my head. “How long does it take to get to Santa Monica?”

“Depends on what route you take, but no more than thirty minutes, maybe less, depending on the traffic.”

I glanced over at Tom and he couldn’t have looked more perfect. “You know, this suits you,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“California. The beach.”

“How’s that?”

“Golden tan and your hair wild in the wind. Carefree. A total surfer. Not the business man in a suit I met a couple of weeks ago.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. You’re just…even more beautiful like this. Women must tell you that all the time.”

He reached over and grabbed my hand, lacing his fingers through mine and bringing them up to his lips where he planted a soft kiss. “There’s only one woman I wish to impress, and that woman is you. And I can’t wait to spend the next few days alone with you. No distractions.”

“You’re done with work?”

“We had a few multimillion-dollar properties that were sold and bought. Projects our agents had been working on for several months. Jake’s in town also. He can handle anything else that comes up.”

“I didn’t know Jake was here.”

“When we’re dealing with huge sales, Jake and I like to be in the area. It’s tricky when you deal with these high-profile clients. At times, you don’t even work directly with them. Everything is done through the agents or reps. Makes the back and forth that much harder. Plus, even though our company name precedes us, and we have extremely talented and successful agents, some clients prefer to work directly with me and Jake. I’m not exactly crazy about working that side of the business anymore, but sometimes it’s necessary if you want to keep this type of clientele happy and coming back.”

“Sounds like you’ve been pretty busy.”

“Yeah, well, for the next couple of days, I’ll be busy with you.” He kissed my hand and with his fingers still tangled with mine, he gently placed it back on my lap. The subtle intimacy made my heart swell and I couldn’t wait until my entire body, and not just my fingers, were encased in him.

As we entered Santa Monica, the road snaked alongside the ocean. The smell of the salty air swam through the warm breeze flowing freely through the SUV. The Pacific Ocean gleamed under the morning sun, sparkling and inviting. My feet were anxious to sink into the soft sand while I sipped wine and watched the sunset.

We merged onto the narrower Pacific Coast Highway. A long row of houses lined the beach. Tom turned us around and pulled the SUV alongside a row of about ten three-story oceanfront homes. My eyes widened. “No. Way. You can’t be serious.”

“What?”

“You live here?”

“Home away from home.”

We pulled up to a bluish-gray house with a driveway big enough for at least three or four cars. “Trust me,” he continued, noticing my awestruck expression. “This place is hardly spectacular compared to the real mansions lining the beach farther north. Personally, I’m not a big fan of monstrous-sized homes. I grew up humble and near water, so for me, all I need is a cozy place with an oceanfront view and a private beach, and I’m good. Can’t wait to show you inside, though. It’s really quaint. Come on.” Tom took my suitcase from the backseat. We walked up a few steps to a slim entryway. He fumbled a little with his keys before finally opening the red, wooden front door. “Welcome home.”

Of course, nothing short of amazing awaited inside. Similar to his Hoboken apartment, the far back wall of the house was a splay of windows, except these faced the beautiful dark-blue waters of the Pacific. The rich espresso wood floors were a stunning contrast to the light sandy beach visible through the glass walls. The home was narrow but very long. The foyer led to an impressive contemporary new kitchen, which was laden with granite counter tops, stainless steel appliances, and dark wood cabinets. Further along, and carved out of the right wall of the house, the kitchen and living/dining area were separated by a massive, wood-trimmed staircase that led both down to a ground floor and up to a third floor.

“Jesus, Tom, this place is sick.”

“You haven’t seen the rest.”

Dropping my handbag on the kitchen counter, I continued the tour into the living room. I abandoned my sandals by the entrance, my feet padding along on the soft Asian area rugs; the once deep burgundy rich colored fabrics were faded but still looked and felt opulent. The living-room was furnished with an eclectic collection of antique furniture comprised of a distressed, natural-wood armoire, double bookcase, and small desk. A large brown leather sofa and two darker brown, leather arm chairs surrounded a matching coffee table to the armoire.

What was more impressive about the room was the art on the wall. Framed sketch drawings, portraits, and landscapes adorned the north wall behind the couch.

“Did you do these?” I asked.

“Only a handful of people have ever seen those. I don’t get many visitors.”

A familiar face stared back at me from those sketches. “I’ve seen her before…back at your apartment. She is beautiful.”

“That’s my mother, Adeline. And yes, she is a breathtaking woman.”

I pointed to a sketch portrait of the same young man I had also seen at his apartment.

“That’s my twin brother, James.”

I spun my head toward him. “What? You have a twin and you never told me?”

“I didn’t see a pressing need to talk to you about my family. Not yet, at least.”

“For not being identical, you seriously resemble each other.”

From behind, Tom wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled my neck. “Yeah, but I’m the better looking one,” he chuckled, nibbling and tickling my ear with his lips and hot breath. That was all it took to plunge me into a heated pool of desire. My skin prickled with sensation as he swept my hair to the side and kissed my neck. Feathery kisses trailed to my bare shoulder where he nipped the spaghetti strap of my dress and effortlessly rolled it off the rounded edge of my arm.

His fingers traced gentle steps up my arms, lighting me up as they slowly reached the heated skin of my shoulders and neck. Finally, with a slight touch to my chin, he turned my mouth toward his, and when our lips met, a volcano erupted.

I turned around and we were lost in a feverish embrace, tasting each other like it was our first time. His tongue licked the cleft of my lips, teasing and inviting, making me crave the same touch elsewhere. Before we knew it, we were laying down on his couch, the weight of his body pinning me onto the cool leather; his hands hot and demanding.

I’d longed for the feel of his body on mine, the hardness of his length pressing against me. Between whispered breaths, I tried to speak, my uttered words a jumbled mess. My mind knew my body was surrendering and about to give into the pleasure, but it was Tom who pulled away, his chest heaving as he sat at the other end of the couch. “I’m so sorry. I promised you this trip was not going to be all about sex and here I am, ready to rip your clothes off.”

I sat next to him, my pulse still beating with the hum of my blood as it burned through my veins. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“You’re like a magnet…and this is going to take a whole new level of self-control.” Turning toward me, his brows dipped. “I don’t know if I have it.”

Staring at him, I couldn’t remember why I even wanted to resist the attraction between us. I inched toward him and cradled his cheek in my palm. “Hey, I chose to kiss you, too. Perhaps it was a bad idea anyway.”

His eyes stilled over me and his jaw clenched as he took my hand from his cheek. “Coming here?”

I shook my head and moved in closer, bringing my mouth to his. “No. Pretending I could be in the same room with you and resist these lips.” I buried my hands in his hair and drew in for a kiss, but he turned away, wounding me more than I cared to admit.

“Sara, I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to.”

“Believe me. I want this.”

He stood. “I made you a promise.”

I stood up as well, looking up into his eyes. “Forget the promise.”

Taking my chin in his fingers, he fixed his devilish eyes into mine. “I want you. Trust me. I could strap you across my shoulder right now and carry you upstairs to my bed. I want to defile your body. In. Every. Way. Possible.”

He wasn’t finished.

“Christ, Sara. You make me want to do things to you I’ve never done to a woman.” His eyes filled with feral lust as his gaze drifted from my lips to the soft mounds of my breasts. “Hell, it’s taking every ounce of will power not to rip off your dress right now, but…”

“So, do it.

“Baby, you wanted to take it slow.”

I rolled my eyes. He wasn’t going to let it go. “I know what I said, but when I made you make that promise I was across a freaking telephone line. Now, being next to you, I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

He smiled, pulling hair from my eyes. “I love it when you get fired up. But, at minimum, I think I should cook for you first before I fuck you, what do you think?”

I returned his playful smile. “You do have a point there.”

Walking toward the kitchen, he began searching through his cupboards.

“So where am I sleeping?” I asked. “I’d like to freshen up a bit.”

“You’re sleeping in my bedroom on the top floor,” he called over the fridge door.

“So, we’re sharing a bed?”

His eyes met mine, an eyebrow hiked. “Unless you prefer not to. I can always sleep in the guest room.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’m happy to room with you.”

His wide grin made my knees weaken. “Make yourself at home,” he said. “Breakfast should be ready in twenty minutes.”

When I walked upstairs and saw his bedroom, my jaw dropped. Facing the ocean, the master bedroom was as grand as a honeymoon suite. The top floor was completely carpeted in soft, sandy-colored fabric, and similar to his apartment back home, the furnishings were dark and modern. The large headboard of the wrought-iron California king canopy bed was flush against the east wall. The tall mattress was draped in a white, plush, cotton comforter; the matching canopy panels were drawn back and tied at each corner. A black, five-drawer dresser and matching night tables completed the look.

The balcony was equally amazing. A beautiful claw-foot tub and a canopied daybed were secluded from the neighbors by frosted glass on each side. It was perfect for a late-night soak under the moon and stars.

Tom called from downstairs, interrupting my self-guided tour. “Breakfast is about ready!”

I changed into a pair of denim shorts and white tank top before rushing back to the kitchen.

The air smelled of cinnamon and vanilla, mixed with the smoky aromas of maple-flavored sausage and bacon. My mouth watered the minute my eyes took in the sight of the breakfast feast sprawled on the kitchen counter. French toast, eggs, fresh strawberries, and bananas accompanied the perfectly crisp bacon, ham, and sausage.

“Wow, this looks amazing. Everything smells fantastic.”

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said as he handed me the dish of stacked French toast. “Bring these to the deck, we’ll eat outside.”

Minutes later, I was pouring extra syrup on my toast as I finished my fourth slice. It was buttery and gooey. All the flavors danced in my mouth. My stomach protested, but everything was so scrumptious, I couldn’t help but continue to stuff my face as I washed it all down with a tall glass of orange juice.

“I like watching you eat,” he said, amused and finally breaking the silence.

“Oh yeah, and why is that?’

“Because you don’t seem to care about counting calories.”

“You’re calling me a pig?”

He laughed. “No. I simply enjoy cooking for someone who likes to eat.”

“I only eat like this when I’m around you. Or when Jen has time to cook. Otherwise, I’m always eating girl-lunches or girl-dinners.”

“And what exactly are those?”

“Meals comprised of snacks. I’m a terrible cook, so I don’t even bother. Though my mom at least taught me and my sister how to make scrambled eggs and toast. It’s a survival skill.”

“Tell me about your sister.”

I set my fork down and took a deep breath. I wasn’t ready to rustle the leaves of my family tree. Still, I couldn’t keep Tom in the dark forever. “Megan? She lives up in Seattle. She moved there after our mom died.”

“That must’ve been hard for you…to lose your mom then your sister moving away?”

“It was very hard, but thankfully, Jen was there for me.” The smile accompanying my words wasn’t wide. Jen helped me heal, but the scars would always be there.

“You guys seem very close. I admire your friendship.”

“Is it just you and your brother?” I asked, pivoting the attention toward him.

“James was enough. Trust me,” he laughed.

“Must be interesting being a twin.”

“We are not identical, so we don’t share any of the identical twin phenomena, but we were very close.”

“Were?”

Tom was about to take a sip from his OJ but stopped and thought for a moment. “I haven’t been home in a while.” Then he took a deep gulp of juice. All amusement was gone from his voice. I could have pressed further, but it wasn’t the time to delve into those murky waters. At least not yet.

“Your mom is beautiful. Now I know where you get your looks from.”

Warmth filled his eyes as he thought about his mother. It was obvious he loved her deeply.

“What about your father?” I asked.

“My father died from a heart attack,” he replied coolly. “I was stationed in Afghanistan when it happened.”

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. There was nothing I could do about it. Plus…” He paused and stared out across the sand.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

He looked back at me, subtle fury hiding behind his green eyes. “My father was a terrible man, Sara. He wasn’t a good husband, and he was an even worse father. I can’t say I was especially moved when I heard he passed.”

My mouth dried. I didn’t even know what to say.

“I’ve moved on,” he said, saving me from my awkward silence.

“Yeah, but moving on is not easy,” I said.

“There are things that still haunt me about my past. God knows there’s so much I would have done differently. But when it comes to the man who fathered me, I’ve made peace with it.”

We looked at each other for a long moment. Neither one of us knew exactly what to say after that. Our sunny day was clouded by memories of troubled pasts, but I wasn’t about to let our day get ruined. “So, what do you want to do today?” I asked.

“Well, there’s a bike trail nearby that runs right along the beach.”

“Perfect.”

* * *

He mounted the bikes onto the AMG and we took off around noon. After a couple of hours, we ventured away from the beach and into town, stopping at a café nearby for a late lunch. We sat on one of their outside tables and lazily ate our food while enjoying the afternoon sun and ocean air.

“So, Jake is having this party tonight,” Tom said in between mouthfuls. “It’s a penthouse party at his Hollywood apartment.”

“What’s the celebration?”

“The recent sales, and truthfully, he likes throwing a party for no reason at all,” he scoffed. “I’m not crazy about going, but he is my partner and some of our clients might be there.”

“Will you be gone late?”

“I was hoping you’d want to join me. You could meet Jake.”

“I didn’t bring any fancy dresses.”

A self-assured look crossed his eyes. “I’ve already taken care of that. You’re going to like what I had my assistant bring.”

“Oh? Who’s this mystery shopper?”

“Tiffany.”

“Hmm, so is purchasing dresses for me part of Tiffany’s job description?”

“She’s also a close friend of mine and offered to help.”

“Was she the one who bought the Geena Salvatore dress?”

His eyes narrowed over me in a swift look of seduction. “That one was all me.”

“So, she knows about us?”

“Yes. Why so many questions?”

“So, you two are very close?”

“She works for me. We’re friends.”

He didn’t seem very eager to offer more on this Tiffany, but I wasn’t going to easily forget about her either. Close female friends weren’t always just friends. I would need to let that simmer for a while.

“We don’t have to stay long tonight,” he continued. “I need to make an appearance, say hi to a few people, shake a few hands then we can leave.”

“I’m here with you, so I go where you go.”

I tried to play it cool, but the thought of going to some Hollywood party terrified me. I wasn’t the type to mingle with fancy socialites. I already felt out of place traveling around in luxury cars and private jets, now I had to play the part of pretty arm candy.

We made it back to the house around three p.m. My legs were sore, but the small workout felt great. Tom dropped his keys on the kitchen counter then reached inside the fridge for a bottle of water and offered me one. I took it and stared as he downed his in less than twenty seconds. I admired his physique as he drank.

Sticky and drenched in sweat from being in the sun all afternoon, he looked so smoking hot I couldn’t stop my mind from summoning lewd thoughts of his naked body grinding into me. I pressed the cold bottle against my forehead, trying to freeze frame those images or I may have lost all self-control.

“Shower,” I said, taking a gulp of my water and nodding up toward the third floor.

He raised a brow, a smile curling at the corner of his lips.

“Not with me, buster.” I winked at him, stopping him before he had a chance to finish his thought. “Nice try, though. You had your chance to fuck this body earlier, remember? Now you wait until I’m ready.”

He laughed. “Touché, my lady. But you insult my honor.”

“Honor my ass!” We both laughed, but his chuckle carried a sensual guttural sound that made me crave more of his playful nature, but also made me regret my idiotic idea. No sex with this man? Yeah, moronic to the umpteenth power.

“What time’s the party?” I asked.

“Eleven.”

“After the shower, can I take a short nap? Otherwise, I won’t make the party.”

“Yeah of course, you should definitely rest. I know jet lag can be hard on your body.”

That. And wanting him so badly and not being able to do anything about it because I was ridiculously delusional also made it hard on my body.

I left him in the kitchen with his water.

Upstairs, I daydreamed about him walking into the bathroom and joining me under the warm water that flowed like rain in the large shower. My skin vibrated with desire, aching for the feel of his hands. Recalling our last intimate encounter—his body on top of mine, his naked chest, his long muscular limbs, his iron-hard erection, and the heat in which he beat into me—made me lightheaded. I throbbed with the need to orgasm and almost reached between my legs, but thought better of it. The sweet torture was keeping me on edge and the anticipation of having him own my release was worth the wait. I wanted it to be his and his alone.

I slipped into a comfortable pair of cotton shorts and a camisole, then sank into his bed and mercifully faded to sleep before being assaulted by more images of Tom and his glorious nakedness.