Wanted: A Bad Boy Romance (21 page)

The nerve of him!

I don’t remember walking home, but suddenly I’m standing in front of my
door forcing my key into the lock as if it’s the door’s fault I can’t get into
my apartment fast enough. I knew better than to go over there. I knew better
than to open up that can of worms.

Couldn’t resist, could we? God, I’m
pathetic.

The second the lock clicks, I press my weight against the door and fling
it open, kicking off my shoes and tossing my bag into the seat of a chair. Only
it lands with a soft thud, and a man’s slight groan.

“Ugh.”

My heart races, and I flip the switch to light up my living room. “Oh,
God. James. You scared the shit out of me.”

He stands, clutching the bag I’ve just thrown at him. “Expecting someone
else?”

“No, no,” I bat away his words with my hand, as if they’re floating in
the air.

“You okay, babe?” James places my purse on the chair and struts over to
me. He’s wearing the gray suit I love with the lavender tie I picked out for
him last Easter. His cologne permeates the space between us as he draws nearer.
My gaze lifts until it finds his, and I’m able to seek refuge in his ocean
blue.

“I’m fine. Just had a rough day is all.”

James towers over me, tall and lanky. For a second I appreciate how safe
and benign he is. Everything about James is calm and safe. Nothing rattles him,
and for that I’m grateful. “Well then, let me make it better for you.”

He pulls me into him, lowering his lips to mine and depositing a kiss
that grounds me. There are no electrical currents coursing my veins. There are
no butterflies. His love, his kiss, everything about us is just simple and
uncomplicated.

I haven’t felt fireworks since high school, when I was head over heels
for Sutton Pierce. I’m not sure anything could ever make me feel half the
things I felt that summer with him. But for the last ten years, I’ve done
nothing but tell myself that an eighteen year old doesn’t know what love is.

James is love.

I think.

“What’d you have for dinner tonight?” He pulls his shoulders back,
running his palms up and down the length of my arms. A slow smile claims his
face, starting with his eyes, and he stares at me like I’m the best thing he’s
seen all week, which would make sense since it’s been a week since I’ve seen
him.

“What are you doing back? I thought you were staying in New York this
weekend?”

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “I wanted to surprise you. Thought we could
mix things up a bit? Break the routine?”

“You meet your quota for last month?”

He nods. “I did. You know what that means.”

“I do.”
He
’s
two big bonuses
away from buying my engagement ring
.

“I spoke with the district manager yesterday. He thinks there’ll be a
spot opening up in the next couple months. Won’t be long and I can take you
back to New York.
With me.
Where you belong.”

I belong with James. His sweet, boring, uncomplicated, and kind nature
is one in a million. My heart fluttered at the thought of moving to New York to
start our life together. We were going to live it up for the remainder of our
thirties and then settle in the burbs and start a family. That was the plan. No
more rat
race
after that. James knows how important it
is to me to have a traditional family, to live a simple life.

“I can’t wait,” I muse before slipping out of his grasp. I head back to
the bedroom and slip into matching cotton pajamas before removing my makeup and
taking out my contacts. I am 100% myself around James, and he loves me anyway.

By the time I emerge, he’s pillaging my cupboards and the microwave is
humming.

“Oh, I got some of those crackers you like,” I call out as I fall across
the sofa. I flip the station to ESPN and nuzzle up against a pillow while I
watch James make his dinner. “The Italian ones with the sea salt and olive
oil.”

He glances up from across the island and flashes a smile. “Thanks,
babe.”

“Your beer is in the fridge too. The Boulevard Pale Ale.” I pull a
knitted blanket from the back of the sofa and curl up. It’s funny, outside it’s
a hundred degrees but inside the air is so ice cold I need a blanket just to
stay comfortable half the time. There can never be a happy medium. Not in
Miami.

“You’re so good to me.” James returns with a plate and a brown bottle of
beer and sits next to me, his eyes glued to the T.V. screen. I should be
admiring the way his jaw flexes and tenses while he eats. I should warm over when
I catch him glance at me between commercial breaks. I should want to curl up
next to him and rest my head in his lap.

Instead, I can’t stop thinking about Sutton.

He looks good after all these years, even better than before if I’m
being honest. His eyes are older, wiser. Even the way he talks is slower, more
grown up. He’s so fucking smart. And he delivers babies for a living. But he’s
still an asshole who had a part in ruining my family, and for that, I can’t
allow myself to care about him ever again.

“What’re you thinking about, babe?” James finishes his last bite of his
food and pushes his plate back. His hand falls into my lap, and his fingers
interlace into mine.

“Nothing.” I force a smile and pray he’s not a mind reader. I feel dirty
laying here with my boyfriend thinking about Sutton. Something about it feels
wrong, though I’m not in a place where I feel like digging deep enough to find
out why. I’m afraid of what I might find if I dig too deep. “Just tired.
Thinking about tomorrow. I have to meet with my boss in the morning to go over
some new campaign for
Arovag
.”

“Oh, yeah. So that drug’s finally going live, eh?” He gives me a
cockeyed look, and I know exactly what’s on his mind. “Have any samples?”

“James!” I splay my fingers across his chest and push him away.
Arovag
is a new FDA approved drug proven to enhance the
libidos of women. “
I
don’t need it.”

He reaches over and pulls me into his lap. He has ‘ill intentioned’
written all over his face, and his hands are running the length of my thighs,
claiming them
inch by inch
.

“I know you don’t need it, babe. Just thought, you know, maybe you can
take some
Arovag
, and I can take some Levitra, and we
can have some explosive, dynamite sex tonight.”

“You don’t need Levitra,” I laugh.

He smiles and my laughter dies. Ever since starting the long distance
thing with him, our love life has died a slow painful death. The traveling
takes a toll on his energy, and by the time we see each other, we spend most of
the weekend
vegging
out and relaxing.

But come to think of it, I’m not sure that we’ve ever had
clothes-tearing, mind-blowing, up-all-night sex in the all the years we’ve been
together.

James’ face grows serious and his hands creep up under my shirt until he
finds my breasts. He slips them under the lace cups and fondles them, toying
the nipples as his lips lean in to burn into the flesh under my collarbone.

I’m not in the mood, and shit, maybe I do need
Arovag
,
but my mind isn’t there. “James…”

“I miss you,
Lauryn
, I miss the way you taste,
the way you feel,” he breathes his words like a man starved for sex. I mentally
calculate how long it’s been since the last time we made love: three weeks,
maybe longer? My hands wrap around the back of his neck as I force myself to
get into it. I love James. I should want to have sex with him.

He unhooks my bra and pulls my cotton pajama top over my head. I arch my
back until my hips are aligned to his, and the bulge of his cock presses
through the thick fabric of his dress pants.

I’m feeling nothing down there. Not an inking of warmth or a sliver of
desire, but these things
take
time. It’s a slow burn
with James. It’s never been instant. There’s a reason we have a stash of KY
Jelly socked away in the nightstand.

My eyes close, and my mouth finds his. I detect a hint of mint that
barely covers his stale coffee breath. I try to ignore it. No one has perfect
breath
all of the time. When you’ve been together as long as
we have, you tend to overlook certain things. We’ve just gotten comfortable,
that’s all.

“God,
Lauryn
, I miss this,” he groans as his
hands work his belt. He frees his hardness and palms my hips, lifting me up
enough to prepare for his impalement.

Impalement. That’s what it always feels like. Like my body is resisting
his attempt to insert himself into me. It feels sterile sometimes. Like we’re
just going through the motion. I open my eyes and peek at his face. I want to
know if he’s really enjoying this. His face is pinched. His eyes are closed.
He’s anticipating the way my body will feel the second we come together.

I pull in a deep breath and assure myself it’s going to feel amazing.
Sex with him has lately been about as exciting as a Sunday morning in church,
but we can change that. We need to try new things. We need to ignite the fire.
I’m going to take an
Arovag
next time we have sex and
see if it makes a difference.

James’ hand grips the base of his cock and he rubs the head of it
against my sex, back and forth, soft and gentle, just he way he always does.
Our sex life is a dull routine – a combination of strategically memorized
movements.

Buzz. Buzz.

My phone.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

James groans. His head falls back against the sofa. “Who the hell’s
calling you now?”

“Good question.” I’m dying to know. No one ever calls me this time of
night unless it’s my boss, and that’s never a good thing. I brace my hands
against his shoulders, using them as leverage to get up, but his hands grip
into my hips.

“No, no, let’s just keep going,” he begs. It’s a bit of a turn off when
a grown man begs from a place of horny desperation and not passionate longing.

“I’m sorry. I have to get this.” There’s a soft lump in my throat. Guilt
perhaps. I’m marginally relieved for the interruption. I scamper across the
room and dig my phone from my bag. I’ve already missed the call.

MISSED CALL –
8:08 PM – SUTTON PIERCE.

Shit.

A tingle in my belly zips through the rest of me - a tingle placed there
by Sutton and not James. That scares me, but I refuse to give it too much
thought. Thinking too hard about things that don’t make any sense can lead my
mind into dangerous places.

“Who was it, babe?” James’ words are innocuous, but his tone is annoyed.

“One of the doctors in my territory.” I press the top of my phone until
the screen goes black.

“Why would they be calling you at night?” James is still sitting in the
middle of the sofa with his rock hard cock in his hands.

“Um, I don’t know?” My mind races in an attempt to come up with
something. James isn’t a jealous man, but I’m not sure he’d appreciate knowing
I had dinner with an ex-boyfriend he never knew about. I’d mentioned Sutton
over the years to James, only ever in passing and never by name, and only ever
with a mouthful of contempt and disdain directed at
Sut
and my father.

Ding-ding.

I glance down to find a text filling my screen.

SORRY FOR UPSETTING YOU TONIGHT. MY
OFFER STILL STANDS. I CAN SHOW YOU THE WORLD…

I laugh, clapping my hand across my mouth. I used to make Sutton watch
Aladdin with me over and over when we were kids, and I’d make sing
A Whole New World
with me as we danced
jumped from chair to chair and sofa to sofa in his mother’s family room.

YOU’RE A DORK
. I type back, forgetting for a
moment that I’m still mad at him. There’s a huge smile claiming my
face, that
I didn’t even try to fight. I wipe it away before
James can see.

“Babe, what are you doing over there? Come on. You’re leaving me hanging
here.” Now he’s whining, and it doesn’t help my situation any. I’m dryer than
the Sahara down below, and it’s going to hurt. James has never been much of a
foreplay guy, though I’d kill to feel his mouth on my sex just once. It’s been
years since anyone went down on me.

“Sorry,” I say as I realize I’m waiting for Sutton to type back.

I do not like him, and yet I’m
waiting for him to text me back. What is wrong with me
?!

I shove my phone back in my purse and walk back to James. My phone dings
again. I want to read the text more than I’ve wanted to read any text before in
my life.

James grabs my hands and pulls me back to his lap.

I can’t do this. I can’t straddle my boyfriend’s raging boner and obsess
over Sutton’s text message. It’s wrong. It’s weird. It’s confusing. I’m not in
this moment whatsoever. My body is straddling James, but my mind is somewhere
else completely.