Kristen Ashley - Mystery Man

Boo! I needed to get home and hit it.

I melted into him and my hands slid up his chest to his neck.

“One of my deadlines is today. I’m close to finished but I still need to get some work done.” His arm squeezed me and I continued and I did it in a quiet, slightly scared, slightly hopeful voice but my decision was made and my decision was about him so I figured he should know it even though it scared the freaking shit out of me. “I want to be here when you get back, baby, but I always make my deadlines. It’s a promise I give my clients and –”

“Babe,” he cut me off, “it’s cool.”

“I do want to be here,” I restated to make sure he got it but I did it on a whisper.

His hand at my jaw tilted my head back further as his dipped closer to mine. “I’m gettin’ that, Sweet Pea,” he whispered back, “and I like it.”

He got it. And he liked it.

I licked my lips and nodded.

He touched his lips to mine then lifted his head an inch and said, “I gotta go with the boys. I’ll call Fang, you take your time, get dressed, shower, get some food, whatever you wanna do. He’ll be here in thirty minutes, take you home. I’ll leave a key for you, take it. The security code is three, three, six, four. When you’re done, come back.”

“Okay,” I agreed readily.

His arm around me pulled me closer and his hand at my jaw slid back into my hair as I watched his eyes grow hot.

“We’re passed due, babe. Definitely. Even more since I had to watch you last night in that dress and those shoes and then you passed out practically naked in my bed before we got to play. Plan for an energetic evening.”

Wow.

“Okay,” I breathed it this time and again I did it readily.

He smiled a smile that, with his eyes hot on me and his body close, I saw was hungry.

Yum.

My fingers glided over his hair and put on pressure as I lifted up on my toes and my eyes dropped to his lips.

Therefore I watched them form the words in a mutter, “Totally missed out.”

Then he kissed me, hot, hard, with tongues and his hand at my ass pulled my hips into his as I held on and my legs and insides turned liquid.

He broke the kiss on what sounded like a frustrated growl and I liked that so much, it made me press closer and when I did, his mouth touched mine then came back then again and then his teeth nipped my lower lip.

Um… nice.

“Hawk,” I whispered, still holding on.

“Baby, let go, you don’t, I lose a client and no more fancy shoes.”

I considered this, weighing shoes against sex with Hawk in his cavernous lair.

Then I kept holding on.

He smiled, his arm giving me a squeeze, his mouth touching mine again then he let me go and stepped back. I moved to lean against the bar in an effort to hold myself up and he lifted a hand and ran the side of his index finger along the skin under my chin.

Um… nice!

“Later,” he promised.

“’Kay,” I replied.

His hand moved to my neck and gave it a squeeze then he moved away, dug in a drawer, pulled out a key which he dropped to the counter and then he strode to the stairs. I watched until he made it to the top and then I grabbed my coffee, sipped at it and watched some more as he opened and shut drawers on his dresser and the wardrobe and got dressed.

I heard the vehicles outside as he was sitting on the bed putting on his boots and me and my coffee mug wandered to the stairs as he came down them. He hooked me with an arm at my shoulders, guided me to the door under the bed platform, through it to another cavernous space that held his Camaro, a black SUV, a motorcycle under a cover and still there was enough space to park my car, my Dad’s car and a motor home.

He grabbed a box which hung from a cable and had two, big, round red buttons on it. He pressed one, the colossal door slid up, cold from the outside assaulted me but I only minutely felt it as he walked me to the end of the building, turned me to him, I succeeded in evasive maneuvering with my coffee mug right before he laid another hot, wet one on me.

He lifted his head and muttered, “Energetic.”

“Gotcha,” I replied, he grinned then I watched him prowl to one of three SUVs, seeing one of his commandos had jumped from the driver’s seat and was rounding the vehicle to get in on the other side as Hawk took the wheel.

I stood there in the cold, in his shirt, carrying a shiny, midnight blue coffee mug, completely unembarrassed because I was completely happy in my real life daydream and I waved the commandos off as they drove away.

None of them waved back though I got a couple grins and one amused head shake.

Then I grabbed the box, hit the button, the big door groaned down and I re-entered Hawk’s lair.

I was on the bed platform making Hawk’s bed when it happened.

The phone rang and, obviously, I ignored it.

Then the answering machine on one of the heavy, dark wood nightstands clicked on. An electronic voice asked the caller to leave a message then the caller left a message.

The minute I heard her voice, I froze mid-pillow-fluffing.

“Hawk?” Hesitant. Probing but unsure. “Honey, I hope everything’s okay. You didn’t show last night. I’m Thursday.” Pause. “I hope you don’t mind me calling.” Still hesitant. “But I’m worried. Um…” Pause. “Call me, okay?” Another pause then hurriedly, “Just so I know you’re all right.” Pause again then, “Um… okay, um… bye.”

There was a buzz because she’d hung up and then silence.

I stood there, pillow in hand, staring at the answering machine, something unpleasant sifting through my stomach.

She was Thursday?

Thursday?

What the hell did that mean?

She was Thursday. Yesterday was Thursday. She was expecting a visit from Hawk.

She was Thursday.

That something in my stomach slid up my gullet, filled my mouth and it tasted of acid.

Fang idled at the curb while I did my walk of shame up to my house. It really wasn’t a walk of shame but no one seeing me in the daylight hours in a little black dress and fabulous shoes would know that.

Fang, I found to my fortune, was not a master communicator. This was good and bad because this meant I could slide into my head and stay there the whole way from Hawk’s lair. This was good because I needed to be in my head to sort my shit out and this was bad because I didn’t want to be in my head and because I couldn’t figure out how to sort my shit.

I opened the door and saw Meredith, Camille, Tracy and Mrs. Mayhew all sitting on my furniture and drinking coffee at the left side of my living room. The furniture had been uncovered, the floors had been swept, the mist of dust on all surfaces had disappeared. The renovation equipment had vanished. The right side of the living room was just as tidy but it was empty. A peek through the glass doors to my once empty den showing it was now storage for tools, tubes, cans and equipment. The walls still needed to be re-skimmed, the floors refinished, the fireplace mantels stripped and redone and the light fixtures replaced but at least it looked like a living room

Jeez. It was ten o’clock. Meredith had been busy.

I stared at them and I loved them. I loved them all. And I loved that Meredith made my living room look like a living room.

But I wanted cookie dough. Aloneness and cookie dough.

No, I needed aloneness and cookie dough.

Like, a lot.

“Hey,” I called.

“Have a good night?” Meredith beamed.

“Um…” I mumbled.

“That’s a pretty dress,” Mrs. Mayhew complimented.

“Thanks, Mrs. M,” I replied walking in thinking she was being so Mrs. M, saying I was wearing a pretty dress when I’d walked into my house in the clothes I’d worn the night before which everyone knew screamed slut!

“Heard you got a hot one on your hook,” she remarked, smiling at me huge.

Well, I thought so but I was worried I was on his hook.

“Um…” I mumbled again.

“You okay?” Cam asked, looking at me closely.

“Um…” I mumbled yet again.

All female eyes focused intently on me as it appeared I was incapable of speech.

Then Cam moved.

“Right,” she said smartly, jumping up from the couch. “Shower, yoga pants, let’s go!” she ordered and clapped her hands, coming to me, bustling me to the stairs and up them, right to my bathroom.

I turned at the bathroom door and looked at her. Cam was my height, all legs and booty, minor cleavage that wasn’t much to write home about but it didn’t matter because she was flat out, heart stopping gorgeous. Big almond eyes, full lips, fabulous cheekbones, elegant jaw, perfectly arched brows. She was the exotic, African American yin to Tracy’s girl next door yang. This used to give me a complex, seeing as my two best friends were akin to catwalk models let loose on society but I learned to control my feelings of inferiority through copious imbibing of cosmos and shopping for fantastic clothes I could don that would build my confidence whenever I went out with them.

“Cam,” I said.

“You’re freaked,” she replied reading me, as usual, like a book.

Not, of course, that I was being mysterious.

“Something happened,” I told her. “Well, a lot of somethings happened but –”

“Shower, babe, I’ll make a fresh pot and meet you in your office with Tracy. You got fifteen minutes.” Then she turned and walked to the stairs.