Chapter 8

EIGHT

FOSTER

EcoSpoon’s founder Owen Larson paced the length of my office. He pulled at his recycled shirt and mumbled to himself. As I watched him, I took a moment to reflect on what Daniel had said about me.

I was drawn to passionate people.

Owen was nothing if not passionate. He wore clothing made from eco-conscious hemp or renewed fibers. The upcycled wallet in his pocket was made out of an old milk jug.

The wallet was flimsy and cracked and didn’t make sense to me. But, the dedication to his beliefs—that’s what I admired about him.

That’s why I struggled to do what Daniel said and cut EcoSpoon loose.

Even if it was the right thing to do for the law firm.

Owen stopped pacing. He worked his jaw until his cheeks puffed out and he turned so red that steam might start leaking from his ears. “It’s like the investors don’t care that EcoSpoon is 12.347 percent greener than the leading competitor.”

They didn’t.

“This is their planet, too. EcoSpoon can make a difference,” he said. “I’m trying to save the world here. Why won’t they listen, Foster?”

“Investors are looking to make money,” I told him. “They want to be confident their investments will grow into more of it.”

“Don’t they want to invest in the future? What could be worth more to these people than saving the planet?”

“Money.”

Owen threw his hands up, then dropped down in his chair.

I knew his frustration. Every passionate creative went through it at one time or another.

Owen sighed. “I could push for 12.34 8 percent. It probably isn’t possible. But achieving the impossible is how I reached 12.347. If I do it again they’ll have to understand.”

He looked up at the ceiling, his expression lingering somewhere between desperate and dejected.

“It’s not the number,” I told him. “We need a new marketing strategy.”

“The number is the strategy. It’s all that matters.”

It was all that mattered to him.

This was the other part of what Daniel had said about me. I chose people who got in their own way.

That only meant they needed my help more.

I remembered then what Aurora had suggested.

“Flavored spoons,” I said.

“What?” Owen frowned.

“We need to change the pitch. Would it be possible to add flavor to the spoons?”

“Why would I want to do that? It doesn’t change the environmental impact.”

“Because it could set EcoSpoon apart. Because you can eat them, right?”

“Yes. Or throw them away. They degrade incredibly quickly.”

“But no one wants to eat a spoon that tastes like cardboard.”

He shrugged.

“But they might buy a box of cilantro lime flavored flatware to enhance their favorite tex mex bowl. After they down that last bite of pico and rice, they get to eat the best part last—their spoon.”

Owen leaned forward, his expression open.

This was working.

“Or they eat their slice of cake and end with a bite of their peppermint fork for fresh breath,” I said.

Owen nodded. “Or their birthday cake with a utensil that tastes like strawberry frosting and looks like it’s flecked with sprinkles.”

Birthday cake was exactly what Aurora said.

Picking up my surprise, Owen pointed to my collar. “Your glitter reminded me of sprinkles. Crafting accident?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Something like that.”

“Well, I think your idea is good. I can shoot for 12.348 percent and put in some flavor. Then we’ll try another pitch?”

“Sounds good.”

“Thank you, Foster. This is exactly what I needed.” Owen rose from his seat and reached across the desk for my hand.

I rose, too, and we shook.

“Glad to hear it,” I said. “Call me when you have a prototype and we’ll set up a meeting to prep your next pitch.”

“Will do.” He nodded emphatically. “And, Foster, you seem…different this week. It’s a good thing. You look happy. This is the famous Foster Musa I expected to work with when I first looked you up.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so as I walked him out, I said, “I look forward to your call.”

Was I different?

Was I happy?

I felt…inspired. I felt more alive than I’d felt in years. I felt conflicted.

All of it was because of Aurora.

She’d lingered in my thoughts since the day we met.

Now that she was living with me, she consumed most of my attention most of the time. With Owen gone, my thoughts returned to her.

To the way she felt, tasted, sounded.

To the lingering ache in my chest from keeping the truth from her.

I headed back into my office.

“Owen Larson was smiling like the Grinch.”

Daniel’s voice startled me from my thoughts.

I grabbed my chest and turned to find him standing by the wall. “Trying to give me a heart attack?”

“You saw me walk in here,” Daniel said.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Well, you looked right at me.”

Clearly, I wasn’t paying attention. I smoothed my tie and returned to my desk chair. “What did you need?”

“You didn’t cut ties with EcoSpoon,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

Still, I answered, “No.”

Daniel took a seat across from me. He looked tired, as tired as I’d felt before Aurora had shown back up in my life.

The fate of our company was weighing on him.

“I’ve been working on ideas for your clients, like you asked,” I said.

He nodded, but his eyes were hazy like he was lost in thought.

“EcoSpoon is going to work,” I said.

He flattened his mouth into a line.

“I know it.”

“I hope you’re right,” he said.

He was relying on me. I needed to keep my head in the game so I didn’t let him down. I finally felt like I was back on track.

“Something’s different,” he said. “With you. Why are you covered in glitter?”

A lightness filled my chest.

“My wife,” I said.

Daniel’s brows dropped. “I thought that was a scam.”

“Turns out she was the woman from North Pole Island.”

“The one-night-stand you sulked over?”

“I did not sulk.”

“You did. And you whined about how she was special but she didn’t leave you her number.”

“I did not.” Did I?

“So you wanted more with this woman, never thought you’d see her again, then she shows up a week later and says you’re married.”

“That’s not a bad summary.”

“And how is this not a scam?”

“She asked for an annulment.”

He stared at me with a hard gaze, a knowing gaze, a judgmental you-screwed-up-again gaze. “You didn’t give it to her.”

Again, not a question.

Again, I answered anyway. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Turns out she was the curator of the joint exhibition I went up north for.”

“How is that a problem?”

“Bertram didn’t tell her it was a joint project. She lost her apartment, her job, everything for the opportunity. I got all the credit.”

“Hmm.” He rubbed his forehead and frowned. “Why not just cut her loose like she wants?”

It’s like he didn’t listen to anything I’d said. “I can’t.”

“You won’t. It’s a choice. Why won’t you?”

“I’m helping her,” I said.

He stared at me. There was more. He knew there was more, just like he always knew when I was holding something back.

He’d given me this same look in the third grade when I didn’t turn in the family tree assignment. I’d lied and said I’d lost it, because my parents wouldn’t allow me to share our personal information with the world. He’d given me this same look a thousand times since.

“I like her,” I said. “The more time I spend with her, the more I realize how much I like her. She’s the only thing that excites me anymore.”

“You’re burned out in the office.”

“Maybe.”

“Your art always revitalizes you. Why don’t you set something up, go out and paint?”

“I can’t. Not until I tell Aurora everything.”

“So tell her.”

“She’ll hate me.”

And there it was—the whole truth.

Maybe I’d been holding back part of it from myself, pretending that keeping Aurora close was all for her benefit, when really it was for mine.

I didn’t want to lose her.

“Have an honest conversation, Foster.” Daniel’s expression softened. “If she likes you half as much as you like her, she’ll listen.”

“I didn’t tell her right away, and it’s too late now. I need the interview to come out first, where I give her credit, and everything fixes itself. I need more time to get her to trust me. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“Sounds like you’re doing the selfish thing.”

I was. That’s completely the truth. I was being selfish by not telling her everything from the start, and with every day that passed it became harder to tell her, and harder not to.

She deserved better.

“Figure it out. Focus on what matters.” Daniel rapped his knuckles on the desktop, then left the room.

He meant focus on the law firm.

But I was realizing more and more that work wasn’t what mattered most to me.

Aurora mattered most.

And that was terrifying.

I slipped out of work on time again.

Not staying late was another change inspired by Aurora.

Tonight, I’d make her something special for dinner.

Tonight, I’d tell her everything.

I was nervous, not only because her hating me was a strong possibility, but because of her reaction in bed last night.

I was in a place of pure adoration for her.

She was in a place of…I didn’t know what, for me.

The more I thought about it, the less nervous and more terrified I felt.

As I entered the penthouse, a greasy, salty scent filled my nose.

Melted cheese.

I set down my bag by the door and headed straight for the kitchen.

Aurora sat on the edge of the table wearing another pair of short shorts. I loved how I could see the entirety of her thighs in them.

She was also wearing a tank top with no bra. I loved the soft curve of her neck, the delicate shape of her collar bones, and the points of her perfect little breasts.

A devious grin spread across her face as soon as she spotted me. “I made dinner.”

She hopped off the table with a slice of pizza in her hand. There was already a large bite missing.

“You bought dinner,” I corrected. “And you started without me.”

This was another one of her games, like the glitter, like stripping in the hall and waiting for me to follow.

“Yeah.” She raised a shoulder in a half shrug and batted her eyelashes. “But that’s because it smelled so good I couldn’t help myself.”

That’s how I felt about her.

She smelled good. She felt good. She tasted even better.

Everything about her made me forget the world.

When Aurora was near, there was only her.

Happy to play any game she set, I crossed the kitchen to reach her.

I leaned in close, filling my lungs with her.

Then I watched her expression as I snatched a bite of the pizza in her hand.

She gasped. She took a step back and bumped into the table.

The affronted look on her face was even more delicious than the bite in my mouth.

I chewed, swallowed, and grinned at her. “You’re right, it’s irresistible.”

“Get your own slice.”

“I like yours.” I went in for another bite.

She pulled it away. “Uh-uh, nope. This one’s mine.”

She took another bite. Red sauce dripped down her chin. She hopped up on one of the stools.

I grabbed the counter by her sides. I leaned in until there were only inches between her mouth and mine. Her breath caught. Her big blue eyes flared as they moved to stare at my mouth.

I stayed there a moment longer than necessary. Then I leaned in and slowly licked the sauce from her face.

“Ohmywowza,” she whispered.

The slice slipped from her hand and landed on my shoe.

I didn’t care. I loved the effect I had on her.

Her breathing came quicker as I pulled back. She flicked her gaze from my mouth up to my eyes.

The look in her eyes was pure desire. She was practically panting.

I was so hard it hurt.

The situation was getting out of control fast.

I didn’t want to stop.

I wanted more of her.

All of her.

But I owed her the truth first, and if I put it off a second longer, I’d lose my nerve.

“I have to tell you something.” My voice came out rough, strained.

I squeezed the counter for strength. I held on to keep from touching her.

She shook her head. “No you don’t.”

I did. It was the right thing to do. “That night, in Christmas Village, I’m?—”

She slapped her hand over my mouth.

I blinked, surprised.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know. Don’t taint our perfect night.”

The way she said it, I didn’t know if she meant our perfect night then, or what could be a perfect night now.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I need this and I refuse to let anything ruin it. If you rob banks in your free time, or you’re plotting world domination, I don’t want to hear it. Not tonight.”

I didn’t rob banks.

What I did felt worse.

“I need you,” she said with the most earnest look in her eyes.

I need you. The words repeated in my head, squeezed my heart.

She used her free hand to rip open my pants. She slipped her hand in and wrapped her fingers around my cock.

Every thought in my head disappeared.

“I’m refusing to say no anymore.” She squeezed me gently. “I’m taking what I want. Understand? I need this.”

I nodded.

She let go of my mouth. She stroked up and down my length as much as she could with my pants still on. I closed my eyes, reveling in the feel of her.

“Here’s the game,” she whispered. “Whoever comes first loses.”

I chuckled, but I was conflicted.

One more night. I could give her what she wanted, then we’d talk in the morning.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Aurora?” I asked, praying she’d say yes.

“Yes. Now prepare to lose.” She dropped down from the stool. She got to her knees and tore my pants the rest of the way off.

My cock sprung free.

Her eyes went wide like she was surprised by the size of it.

She stroked me again.

I leaned against the counter, my head spinning with how good her hand felt, but the way she was kneeling made me wonder what she wanted to do next.

She inched closer, then finally teased my tip with a brush of her lips.

A touch of her tongue, a taste.

“Mmm,” she said.

My dick twitched in anticipation.

Then she took me into her mouth.

The urge to press hard into her throat was strong. Her lips felt so good around me. Her tongue danced.

I wanted to grab onto her hair, but I let her lead.

This was her game. This was her request.

She moved back and forth, taking half of me. More and I’d be down her throat.

I wanted this to go on forever.

She felt so good I didn’t know if I could last.

She pulled back, releasing me, and stared up at my face. A dangerous glint lit her eyes. “I’m going to win.”

She could have, had she continued what she was doing.

But this was a dare, and I was definitely game.

I reached down and scooped her off the floor. I leaned her over the stool, face down, ass up. I stepped out of my shoes and pants, and spread her legs.

Her body thrummed with excitement. She was panting already and I hadn’t even touched her yet.

“Take off my shorts,” she said.

“No.”

I knelt down before her and pulled the fabric of her tiny shorts to the side, exposing her pussy.

She wasn’t wearing panties.

Of course she wasn’t, because she was perfect. It was probably part of her seduction game. But I didn’t care about the game.

I licked between her folds, tasting her, devouring her.

She moaned.

It went straight through me to my throbbing cock, straight through me to my clenched heart.

I licked across her clit, back and forth, with just gentle enough pressure to make her squirm and buck. I squeezed her thigh, running my free hand up and down.

The sounds she made fueled me.

“Foster,” she cried out. “I….”

She gasped and clutched the stool hard. I worked her faster, harder, with only my tongue until she shattered for me.

Her body trembled and shuddered.

I licked her until she settled against the stool.

“Looks like I win,” I said.

Still gasping for breath, she said, “Feels like I win.”

She turned over, sitting at the edge of the stool, legs wide for me. I rose to my feet and stepped between her thighs.

Her shorts were still askew.

I brushed over her tender flesh with my fingertips.

She moaned. Her eyes fluttered shut. Then she grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

“New rules,” she said.

“Is that so?”

She nodded, her cheeks pink like she was embarrassed.

There was nothing for her to worry about. She was perfect.

“Team sport,” she said. “We go for the most orgasms possible in a single night.”

This thing between us wasn’t feeling like a game at all anymore, not even to her.

It felt real.

She wrapped her arms around my neck. I leaned in, letting her pull me close.

She kissed me with no sweetness or reverence. She kissed me like she was lost in a fervor and couldn’t help herself.

I kissed her back, losing everything outside of the moment, outside of her body and her teases, and the way she made me feel like nothing else mattered.

“Aur—” I started.

“No more words,” she said. “Please.”

It was the ‘please’ that did me in.

It was the soft tone and the desperation behind it.

I could give her what she wanted. I’d give her everything.

She slipped a condom from her shorts pocket and rolled it down over my length.

I pulled her shorts down her hips, wiggled them out from under her on the stool, then pressed slowly inside of her.

She gasped, she moaned. She threw her head back.

And I gave her everything, one stroke at a time.

It wasn’t just like that I felt for this woman.

It was deeper.

Something I’d never felt for anyone before.

I loved her.

She bucked against me, taking every thrust, every inch. She cried out my name and yes, yes, more please, yes.

I realized as I watched her come, as I let myself release and come inside of her, that all she had to say was please, and I’d give her the world.