8. Hutton

hutton

. . .

Felicity shut the door behind her family and turned to face me. “So was it terrible?”

“No. It wasn’t terrible. Actually, your family talks so much that I didn’t really feel pressured to be on once we got through dinner.”

She laughed. “We do talk a lot. And adding Dex’s girls to the mix was another layer of chaos.”

“It was fine. I’m fucking exhausted, but it was fine.”

“Why don’t you go to bed?” she suggested. “I can finish cleaning up.”

“I’m not physically exhausted,” I clarified, sticking my hands in my jeans pockets. “It’s just a lot of work for me to be around a group of people, even people I like. Takes a lot of energy beneath the surface to appear cool and collected on the outside when your insides feel like a bunch of live wires.”

She nodded. “I bet. Thank you for doing that for me.”

“You’re welcome. And you don’t have to clean up. The housekeeper will be here in the morning, and she can take care of it.”

“I’m just going to finish loading the dishwasher and take care of the pans,” she said, heading for the kitchen. “I’ve worked in too many restaurants to leave a mess.”

“Can I help?”

“No. But you can keep me company and you can say it’s okay to shoot some photos for my blog in here tomorrow. The light and surfaces are going to look amazing!”

I laughed. “Of course it’s okay. This is your kitchen now too.”

Her smile warmed my insides. “Thank you.”

I sat down at the island. “So tell me more about your business plans. What’s the ultimate goal?”

As she loaded the rest of the dishes into the dishwasher and washed the pans by hand, she spoke about her passion for creating colorful, delicious, nourishing recipes with seasonal ingredients—local as much as possible. “I love the combination of art and science that cooking takes, and I love the stories behind the places where ingredients come from—especially fruits and vegetables,” she said, laughing. “I know it’s not super sexy, but I think growing up running around Cloverleigh Farms really showed me the love and pride and passion families have for growing good things. And there are all kinds of small farms like that, passing down family traditions and recipes and methods. I’m fascinated by the human side of it. That’s what I missed in the test kitchen. The stories.”

I loved hearing her talk about her ideas and her passion as she moved around the kitchen, but it would have been easier to stay focused if she wasn’t wearing a pair of black shorts that showed off a lot of leg. On top she wore a white tank top and a light blue button-down, which was now tied around her waist. Her breasts looked so round and luscious in the tight little top, I was practically drooling on the marble counter. Since the moment she’d suggested we practice kissing, I’d been anticipating what might happen tonight. Was she really going to share my bed, or had putting her clothes in my dresser just been part of setting the stage?

I concentrated on what she was saying, afraid I’d zoned out for too long.

“I guess my ultimate goal would be to write cookbooks,” she said. “But I need to build a platform first in order for publishing houses to consider me. Unless you’re already a celebrity, it’s not easy to get a cookbook deal. You need something to make you stand out, a unique perspective, a fresh aesthetic.”

“I know some people in publishing. I could put you in touch with them.”

She smiled at me. “Thanks, but I want to do it on my own. I had this all planned out when I moved back. Frannie sat down with me, and we sort of mapped out the steps I should take. First, get my blog up and running. Next, start my catering business. Then, once I had traction and a bigger following—and some income—I could write the proposal for the book.”

“That makes sense.”

“I’m still finding my voice, you know?” She pushed her glasses up her nose before sticking her hands in the back pockets of her shorts. “I’m still building confidence in myself and figuring out what I want to say and why people should listen.”

“I have faith in you,” I told her. “You’re smart and creative and intuitive. You’ll find the angle.”

“Thanks.” Her voice grew softer. “I remember when I wanted to drop out of Brown and go to culinary school. Everyone told me I was crazy except you.”

“I wanted you to do what makes you happy.”

“I know. I appreciated that. Most people just brought up the money—didn’t I realize I’d never make a doctor’s salary working in a restaurant?” She mimicked the voices of those who’d doubted her judgment.

“Money isn’t everything.”

“I agree.” She dropped her eyes to the counter. “Um, that thing you said. About New York?”

“Sorry about that.” I frowned. “As soon as it was out of my mouth, I realized I probably should have asked you first.”

“Hutton.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Stop apologizing to me. You never have to worry that I’ll take things like that the wrong way.”

“Does that mean you want to go?”

A smile lit up her face as she rose up on her toes. “Of course I do!” Then she dropped back onto her heels, her expression worried. “But not to buy a ring, right? Just for fun.”

“Don’t you think we should get you a ring? Everyone keeps asking.”

“Okay, but not a Tiffany ring. Something fake and cheap.” She placed her palms on the marble island and gave me a serious look. “I mean it, Hutton. No expensive ring.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s unnecessary. Let’s just buy a decoy, okay? An imitation diamond for our imitation engagement. That’s all we need.” She shook her head. “Don’t waste your money.”

I didn’t see it as a waste of money if it would make her happy, but I knew I wasn’t going to win that argument—not tonight anyway. “Okay.”

She looked relieved. “Thank you.”

“Does the trip work with your schedule?”

“Well, I’m on the schedule at Etoile Tuesday through Thursday, but not in the kitchen. I have to man the booth at the Cherry Festival. And I’d say I could get someone to cover for me, but there’s something kind of crazy going down Tuesday night that I can’t miss.”

“What is it?”

A mischievous smile appeared on her face. “It’s a proposal. Etoile’s head chef, Gianni, is going to propose to his girlfriend, Ellie Fournier. She’s the daughter of the Abelard owners. But you can’t tell anyone.”

I laughed. “Who would I tell?”

“Anyway, I can’t miss it. I think I’m the only other person that knows what’s going to happen and when, and I promised Gianni I’d be there to make sure Ellie is where she’s supposed to be at the right time.” She thought for a second. “But I might be able to get someone to cover for me Wednesday and Thursday.”

“Okay. You let me know.”

“I’ll ask Gianni tomorrow, but it will be kind of short notice to plan a trip, won’t it?”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll get us there and back whenever we want.”

“Do you own a private jet or something?”

“No private jet. But it’s easy enough to hire one.”

She laughed. “Spoken like a true billionaire.”

Our eyes met, and the silence grew a little tense. She looked so damn good, and I wanted her so badly. “Ready for bed?”

“Yes.”

I stood up. “Go ahead. I’m just going to make sure all the lights are off downstairs and the doors are locked before turning the alarm on.”

“Need help?”

“No. I’m good.” My heart was hammering as I went down the steps, because I had no idea which room she would choose. I figured by going downstairs, I was giving her a chance to decide what she wanted without pressure from me.

I knew what I wanted.

When I came back upstairs, all the lights were off. I locked the front door and headed for the back hall. Then my heart sank—the door to the guest room where she’d slept last night was closed, and the light was on.

Fuck.

Disappointed, I got ready for bed, noticing that she’d taken her cosmetics bags out of my bathroom as well. So maybe I’d been wrong about her feelings. Maybe putting her clothes in my room had only been for show. Maybe she really just needed help getting that dress unzipped. Maybe the whole kiss practice idea was more about believability than desire.

With my door closed and the lights off, I tossed the covers back and got into bed. I lay there for a few minutes, wondering if asking her to move in had been a huge mistake—was I going to survive a month with her under my roof? Under my nose? Under my skin?

I thought about her in bed just across the hall. The way she smelled. The curve of her shoulders. The pink in her cheeks when she was nervous. Those huge brown eyes, and the way they might look up at me if she was on her knees. The plush rosy lips parting, the tip of my cock easing into her sweet round mouth.

My hand slipped into my pants. Grimacing, I tightened my fist around my erection and wondered if this was my punishment for inviting her to live here, or maybe for this whole batshit scheme—doomed to jerk off every night while I thought about fucking her or going down on her or shoving my dick in her mouth. I stifled a groan, knowing it would serve me right.

That’s when I heard the soft knocking at the door.

I yanked my hand from my pants and lifted myself up on one elbow, my heart a jackhammer in my chest. I stared at the door in the shadowy dark, wondering if I’d imagined it, if shame had me hearing things.

But a moment later, the door opened soundlessly and Felicity slipped inside like a ghost before closing it again. I blinked, vaguely making out the white T-shirt she wore—was it mine?—the dark hair swinging around her shoulders.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hey.”

“I was wondering if you wanted to practice now.”

My cock, already standing at full attention, twitched with excitement. “Yeah. I do.”

“Should I get in your bed?”

“Definitely.”

She walked tentatively to the empty side and stood there for a moment, like she wasn’t sure I meant this bed right here .

But I wanted her too much and I’d been waiting far too long to let my nerves keep this from happening. Now that I was sure she wanted this too, I reached out and grabbed her by the forearm. “Come here.”

She laughed as I pulled her into bed with me and easily slipped her body beneath mine, stretching out on top of her, pinning her wrists above her shoulders. The laughter faded as she felt my erection thick and hard between us. “Oh,” she whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She spread her legs and slid her heels up my calves. “It’s more than okay.”

My body ignited as I crushed my mouth to hers like I’d dreamed of doing so many times. I wasn’t sure if practice kissing was something you were supposed to ease into, perhaps with a few romantic lines first, but I couldn’t hold back. I kissed her deeply and hungrily, teasing her lips open and stroking her tongue with mine. Between us, my cock grew harder and my hips moved instinctively, slowly rubbing my solid length along the sweet spot between her legs.

I moved my mouth down her neck as she tilted her head to one side and made soft, sweet little sounds of assent. I inhaled the scent of her skin, caressed it with my tongue, rubbed my lips against the hollow of her throat. Letting go of her wrists, I braced myself on one arm and slipped a hand beneath the cotton shirt, pausing with my palm on her waist to wonder exactly how much activity was allowable at this first practice session.

“Maybe we should discuss a few things,” I said, sliding my hand up her ribcage.

“Like what?”

“Like what other things we should practice. For example.” Shifting my weight to my side, I eased my hand over her breast, brushing one hard nipple with my thumb. “I could practice touching you like this.”

She gasped, then sighed softly as I nuzzled her lips while teasing the stiff peak until she arched and moaned beneath my hand. I switched my attention to the second one, desperately hoping she’d let my tongue do what my fingers were doing.

She slipped a hand down between us, sliding her palm over my erection through my thin summer pajama pants. “And I could practice touching you like this.”

A groan emerged from deep in my throat. I kissed her again, more savagely this time, pinching her nipple with my fingertips, twisting and tugging gently. My dick ached beneath her hand, and I yearned to feel her fist wrapped around it.

I grabbed the bottom of her shirt. “I could practice undressing you.”

“I definitely think you should,” she panted.

I whipped the shirt over her head and tossed it. I hadn’t pulled the drapes all the way, and just enough moonlight seeped into the room to render her skin luminous against my dark gray sheets. I could see the gentle curves of her breasts and hips and thighs—secret, unfamiliar parts of her I’d only imagined.

Immediately I bent my head to her chest and slipped a hand between her legs, sucking one perfect little bud into my mouth as I rubbed my fingers over her panties. She cradled my head in her hands, her breath coming fast. I took her nipple between my teeth and flicked it with the tip of my tongue, thrilled when she gasped and cried out.

She reached for the drawstring on my pants. “My turn.” Once she’d untied them, she shoved her hand inside and curled her fingers around my cock.

I shivered with pleasure at her touch, every nerve ending alive and humming, and dangerously hot. She worked her hand up and down my shaft, and my hips flexed impulsively, thrusting into her fist. Kissing her again, I willed myself to hang on to control and not explode all over her hand. To distract myself, I eased my fingers inside the edge of her cotton panties, gratified when she brought up one knee—an invitation.

I groaned at the warm, wet feel of her as I slipped a finger inside her snug velvet softness. This was not a good distraction from my orgasm—all I could think about was my dick pushing its way into this heaven, driving inside her again and again.

How far could this go?

“Hutton,” she whispered against my lips. “You should practice taking off my underwear.”

Popping onto my knees, I hitched my fingers beneath the cotton panties and dragged them down her legs. Then I lowered my head between her knees.

She gasped, hitching herself onto her elbows. “What are you doing?”

“Is this okay?” I kissed the inside of one delicious inner thigh, and then the other.

“I guess.” She laughed nervously.

“You can tell me to stop, and I will.”

But the tension in her limbs eased as I inched closer, pressing gentle kisses on her soft, sensitive skin. When I finally stroked her with my tongue, she moaned.

“Don’t stop,” she whimpered as I circled and swirled her clit with my tongue. “Never stop.”

“You taste even better than I imagined.”

“You’ve imagined this?” Her voice rose with surprise.

“Oh yeah.” I swept my tongue up her center again, pausing at the top to execute a series of spirals and tricks that would make a gold medal gymnast proud. “I’ve played this movie in my mind a thousand times.”

“You—” She struggled for words. “You never said anything.”

I flattened my tongue and performed a few slow, deliberate strokes over her swollen clit. Her body quivered beneath me. “Not the thing you tell someone during calculus review.” I licked her again. “Or in a text.” I sucked her into my mouth, loving the cry of pleasure she gave me. “Or at the hospital emergency room.”

She groaned. “God, don’t remind me about that.”

I laughed because I was so fucking happy. “It all worked out. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

“Me too,” she whispered, her fingers threading into my hair. “I’m exactly where I want to be too.”

I worked my lips and tongue a little faster. Slid one finger inside her—then two fingers, using a little come hither motion as I sucked her clit into my mouth and flicked it with quick, fluttering beats.

“Your tongue—oh God—you’re amazing. I can’t—I can’t?—”

A moment later, she dropped her head back and gripped my head with both hands. Her cries grew wanton and desperate. Her fingers tightened in my hair. Her insides tightened around my fingers and within seconds, I felt her climax thundering through her body with rhythmic contractions and sweet little pulses against my tongue. I didn’t stop until she pushed me away.

“It’s too much,” she panted. “You have to stop.”

Grinning, I kissed my way up her body—hip, stomach, ribcage, collarbone, jaw. “I can stop.”

“I don’t mean stop forever, just maybe for a second, so I can breathe.” She looped her arms around my neck. “But practice isn’t over yet.”

“No?”

She shook her head. “I think there are several more things we should work on.”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

“I thought you enjoyed being in control.”

I laughed. “That’s true.”

“I’m not scared,” she whispered. “I trust you. Tell me what you like.”

There were all kinds of things I wanted to tell her, but for tonight, it was enough that she was here, that she wanted me, that she trusted me.

“Don’t move.” I bit her shoulder lightly before getting to my knees and reaching over to my nightstand to grab a condom from the top drawer.

“Wait.” She sat up. “I think I should practice this part.”

Surprised, I handed it to her. My pajama pants were still loosely clinging to my hips, so she took it between her teeth and worked them down to my knees. My cock sprang free, and I held my breath as she tore open the packet, tossed the wrapper aside, and slowly rolled the condom on with two hands. I was so hard it hurt.

Then she looked up at me with those dark eyes I loved to fantasize about. “How did I do?”

“A perfect ten.” Impatient, I pushed her back and stretched out over her again. “But this next part is critical. Timing is everything.”

“Could not agree more,” she said, wrapping her legs around me.

I eased inside her, inch by inch, my heart a wild thing in my chest, my breath trapped in my lungs. Felicity inhaled slowly, her eyes closing. When I was buried deep, I lowered my lips to her ear. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Hutton,” she whispered, her hands sliding down my back to my ass, drawing me in deep. “This can’t be real.”

I began to move, rocking into her with deep, slow strokes, paying attention to the way she arched her back and tilted her hips and used her hands to pull me closer. I wanted to know exactly what made her moan, what made her dig her nails into my back, what made her body tense up with mounting pleasure until she couldn’t contain it anymore—she had to burst wide open. And I wanted to time it all perfectly, so that we could experience that explosion of ecstasy together.

But it was a tall order.

I was so fucking hard for her, and it felt like I’d been that way for hours—no, days. Months. Years. My ego needed her to think I was the best she’d ever had, but my body was like Fuck you, ego, this is our gig.

Luckily for me, Felicity’s body seemed just as impatient as mine. Not only that, but we moved as if we’d been made for each other, like this wasn’t the first time, like we were returning to a place we already knew. There was nothing clumsy or awkward, no fumbling, no apologies, no doubts. Being with her almost felt like a memory of something that hadn’t happened yet—maybe a memory of a dream.

She was familiar to me, and yet she was a revelation.

Eventually, my ego had to step aside and let my body have its way. Closer. Harder. Faster. Higher. The tension built and the heat rose until sweat slicked our skin and the muscles in my body seized. Until her cries rang out and her hands clutched my ass and her hips met mine in thrust after thrust after thrust. Until the pleasure tore us apart at the seams and we came undone all at once, trembling and throbbing, pushing and pulling, desperate to hang on—to each other, to the moment, to the unbearable bliss of release.

When I opened my eyes, she was looking up at me, stunned and shaken. “That was...wow.”

“Yeah. We probably got in a little more practice than we needed.”

“No, I think it was good. Practice makes perfect, right?”

“That was pretty fucking close to perfect.”

Her lips curved into an adorable grin that made my chest ache—but it was a good ache. A protective ache. I didn’t want her to leave my bed. Would she stay the night with me?

“I wasn’t sure if I should come in here.” Her fingers played in my chest hair.

“Seriously?” I shifted onto my side so I wouldn’t smother her, but I took her with me, so we were face to face.

“Yeah. I could not make up my mind about whether you wanted me like this or not.”

“Convinced now?”

She giggled. “Mmhm.”

“Good.” I kissed her forehead.

“I even came in here while you were downstairs turning off the lights to steal a shirt. That was going to be my excuse if you caught me in your bedroom, and then I was going to attempt to seduce you. But you took so long coming back up that I lost my nerve.”

I laughed, propping my head in my hand. “Sorry. I was trying to give you enough time to make the choice on your own about which bedroom to sleep in. I was hoping you’d choose mine, but I didn’t want to pressure you. But please tell me you’ll attempt to seduce me again.”

She smiled. “Maybe. You’ll have to wait and see.”

“This is definitely a side of you I’ve never seen.”

“There’s a reason for that. We’ve always been such good friends. I mean, we still are.” Her tone grew a little frantic. “Right?”

“Of course we are.” I tucked her hair behind her ear. “In fact, I’m really glad to hear you say that.”

“Why?”

“I can’t promise anything more.”

“Because you suck at relationships?”

“Hey.” I tugged at her hair, and she burst out laughing.

“Sorry—couldn’t resist,” she said. “But don’t worry, I can’t promise anything more either. To be perfectly honest, I suck at relationships too.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Believe it. I mean, I’ve never dated a Zlatka, so no one has ever told me that to my face, but my sister Millie said something today that hit pretty close to home.”

“What did she say?”

Felicity played with my chest hair again. “She said the reason I’ve never had a successful long-term relationship is because I break up with anyone who says ‘I love you.’”

“Is that true?”

“One hundred percent.”

I’d expected her to deny it, so her honesty made me laugh. “And why is that?”

She didn’t answer right away. “I don’t really know. I’ve just always been that way. I suppose I figure things are going to blow up at some point anyway, so I might as well light the match.”

It didn’t take a psychiatrist to know it probably had something to do with her real mom abandoning her when she was so young, especially having overheard the fight with her dad, but if she wasn’t ready to talk about it, I wasn’t going to make her. Nothing worse than someone trying to be your therapist when you just needed a sympathetic ear—something my sister did not seem to understand.

“Well, I think Zlatka is into women too,” I told her, “so if you’d like to date her, I’m sure she’d be glad to tell you exactly why you suck at relationships. Although, she’s not likely to tell you she loves you—at least, she never said that to me—so maybe things would work out with you guys.”

Laughing, she slapped my shoulder. “No, thanks. I don’t need Zlatka in my life pointing out all my flaws.”

“You have no flaws.”

“Ha! I’ve got plenty. But I’m actually sort of glad for one of them tonight.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, if I had better impulse control, I might not have told Mimi we were engaged, and then I would not have just experienced the best two orgasms of my life.”

My chest puffed up with pride.

She snuggled closer to me. “Tell me something about yourself that I don’t know.”

“Like what?”

“Something from before we met.”

I thought for a second. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be a professional baseball player.”

“You did? I didn’t even know you played baseball.”

“I quit right before we moved up here.”

“Why?”

“I had a really bad game. Struck out three times in a row and cost my team the league championship.” It was a memory I hated, so I tried never to go back there.

“Oh.” Felicity rubbed my shoulder. “I’m sorry. That had to feel terrible.”

“It did. I never played again. But it’s not like I was going to play professionally anyway. I was talented, but I wasn’t that good.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me. The childhood baseball dream seems like something a fiancée would know.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“A hundred different things. A scientist. An astronaut. A pastry chef. A school librarian. I thought it would be cool to spend my days around kids and books.”

“You’d be great at that, Miss MacAllister.” Immediately I indulged in a hot fantasy about her. “Would you be a naughty librarian?”

She giggled. “Only for you. Hey, this is what we should do every night.”

I reached down to her ass and squeezed it, pulling her against me. “I could not agree more.”

“I don’t mean that ,” she said, laughing. “I mean—yes, that too—but what I meant was that every night we should tell each other one secret. So that we know each other better than anybody else.”

“You already know me better than anybody else.”

“I do?” she asked, her voice rising.

“Are you surprised?”

“Kind of. I mean, I know we’re close now, and we were close then, but there were a lot of years in between.”

Turned on all over again by her skin on mine, I shifted her beneath me and settled my hips between her legs. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve never been close with anyone the way I am with you.”

She put her arms around my neck. “Are you saying that right now because you want to have more sex?”

“Yes.” I kissed her lips. “But I also mean it. What looks like a six to you might appear as a nine to me. It’s just a different perspective. Both things can be true.”

“You’re such a math nerd,” she teased.

“I also like the numbers six and nine.”

She laughed as I kissed my way down her neck. “I suppose both things can be true.”