Mr. 365 (28 page)

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Authors: Ruth Clampett

BOOK: Mr. 365
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“So you’re not
with her
?” I swallow and try my best not come off like a whack job.

“No. Actually, I was hoping I was
with you
.”

“Yeah?” I ask, hope firing up with a roar.

“Yes. I was just waiting for my moment.” He slowly walks toward me.

“You were?” I feel weak as he steps up close. “Oh God. I almost lost it out there.” I gesture toward the backyard. “I was having crazy, insane thoughts because I thought I’d lost you already. I can’t bear the idea of it.”

“You don’t have to.” He gazes at my lips like he’s planning an epic kiss.

“So you don’t want the pretty, bright-eyed Austrian that wears dresses made of curtains.”

His eyes are bright as he shakes his head. “You crazy girl. I spent my time away getting my head straight and planning how to get things back on track with us. Can’t you see I’m still crazy about you?”

“Thank goodness!” I grab his shoulders and propel myself into our embrace.

He groans, half pleasure, half pain, and tightens his arms around me. The kiss and ones that follow are so intensely passionate that I forget where we are.

“Sorry, sorry, we just need to get our jackets,” a high voice behind us says.

Embarrassed, we break apart and wait as the girl grabs two jackets and hands one to a guy before turning to leave.

“Get a room!” The guy teases as they laugh and rush into the hallway.

Will insists I leave my car and ride with him. Besides the fact that I’ve had too much to drink, he explains that the idea of being separated again, even for the fifteen-minute drive, is unbearable.

The entire drive to his house I’m touching him and he moans with appreciation. I run my hand up his arm and over his shoulder as he silently maneuvers the truck through the near deserted streets. A few moments later, I move my hand down his chest, to his thighs and, finally, between his legs. With his free hand he reaches over, slowly working his fingers up my thigh, but when he swerves the truck, he gasps and peels my hand off his erection.

“Close call,” he says under his heavy breath, his eyes wide. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so pent up. It’s no secret I feel the same.

The fourth time my hand recklessly wanders, I grip him so firmly he gasps even louder. He swerves again but this time over to the side of the road and stops.

What’s with me tonight? I’m a wild woman.

He watches my hand moving slowly over him and then takes in the hungry expression on my face as I lick my lips and lean into him.

“Oh, baby,” he says, moaning. “I’m going to have to make you sit on your hands or we’ll never get home. I’m three strokes away from taking you right here.”

I peer out the window nervously then back at him. “I could be game.” My desire outweighs my logic.

He peels my hand off him again, and curls it up in his hand. He looks at me as if I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted.

“We haven’t been naked together since the night of the fire. I want to make love to you in my bed tonight, not in my truck. Do you have any idea how much I thought about making love to you since I’ve been gone.”

“No,” I whisper, suddenly feeling like the most desirable woman on Earth.
Who needs push up bras and strappy high heels to feel sexy when this man does it all with a single look?

I scoot to the far end of the seat, and gaze out the window with a grin. “I’ll be good, I promise. At least until we get to your place.”

“We’ll be home in five,” he says, and I wonder if he says it more for him than me. He clears his throat, adjusts himself, and hits the gas.

Once we’re home, he stops to quickly check on Romeo. After that, everything’s a blur until we’re both naked and stretched across his sheets. Our need for each other is acutely visceral, we can’t stop touching and stroking each other while we kiss and kiss and kiss. We roll over and under each other from one end of the bed to the other in a sensual dance.

There are so many things I want to say, but I show him instead by arching under his touch and calling out his name as if he’s answered all the questions in my heart. With my crazy comments at the party, he can tell that I thought I’d lost him. It seems to make him even more determined to show me what I am to him.

“I’ve always wanted you to be mine,” he says in a low voice as he spreads my legs open wide.

I nod, biting my lip, my whole body humming in anticipation.

When he finally takes me, his passion consumes me, making it feel like we’ll fall through the sheets to the center of the Earth. He thrusts into me slowly, watching me with laser focus as he cradles my face in his hands. My climax splits me open, spilling my joy all around us as he gathers up all he can.

Afterward we lie in each other’s arms, stunned.

“I’ve never…” I can’t find the words.

“My neither.” He runs his hand through my hair and presses soft kisses across my forehead.

I sigh with a smile, content.

“Stay with me,” he says softly. I’m hoping he means not just tonight but all the days that follow this one.

“I’d like that.” I cup his chin and gaze intently into his eyes. “There’s something I need to ask you.”

“Okay.” He turns so he’s completely facing me.

It’s good but still I’m worried. “I hope it doesn’t freak you out.”

“Maybe you should just tell me.”

“Oh God,” I say nervously.

“Why don’t I go first? There’s something I want to tell you,” he says.

“Go ahead.”

“I had a lot of time to think about everything while I was in Solano Beach. I thought about how I was still letting my past drag me down, and how I would feel if you weren’t in my life. It made me realize how much you mean to me.”

“And?” I ask, hopeful.

He kisses me gently and then looks into my eyes. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m even more in love with you.”

I smile, a thousand-watt grin. “You are? Really? After everything… are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I was assuming you could tell a few minutes ago, when…”

“I was hoping,” I say with a sweet smile, my intense gaze softening. “I know I’m far from perfect.”

He presses his fingers over my lips. “Shh,” he says. “I think you’re perfect for me. So, what were you going to ask me?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” I say, grinning.

“Really? Why’s that?”

“Let’s just say I was going to ask if this was more than sex for you? I wanted to know if I could still be your girl. But now it’s resolved.”

“Indeed it is.”

I push him onto his back, crawl on top of him, and raise my arms to the ceiling.

“This ought to be good,” he says, grinning.

“I love you… so much!” I exclaim.

He laughs and pulls me down into his arms before kissing me.

“Glad we got that settled.”

“All this good stuff and I have to leave Monday for my shoot. And I’ll be gone for weeks.” I lament our upcoming separation with a pout.

He looks up at me with depth in his eyes as he slowly traces circles on my back. “I’ll wait for you.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

S
o far, Georgia ends up being a better trip than I feared, and it probably would be great fun if Will were with me. Our hotel is on the edge of Atlanta, so there’s lots to do. Of course with our shoot schedule, even if we have the time, we’re usually too tired at night after our long work days.

Bonnie the Easter lady couldn’t be more welcoming and excited about the show, which is a sharp contrast to Will. Frankly it’s a relief because I don’t have it in me to convince another unwilling subject.

Despite all the amazing food, I can barely eat since I’m in that love state with a silver umbrella floating above me and making everything sparkle. Every hour a Will thought slips into my mind. What would Will think of Bonnie’s Easter Bunny collection? Is Will taking Romeo for a walk right now? Is Will naked in the shower soaping up his sexy body? Those steamier thoughts make my pulse race and my cheeks flush, which leads to Luis asking me if I’m all right.

“I’m great,” I answer every time with a huge grin.

I even buy a snow globe to give Will from a shop next to our hotel. The intricately sculpted memento has a winter theme with a couple that resembles Will and me kissing while the snowflakes fall around us.

“Will,” I say into the phone with a long, sad sigh.

“What baby? What’s wrong?” he asks.

“They’ve just extended our trip.”

He groans. “How much longer will you be gone?” he asks with a tight voice.

“You’re mad,” I say with regret.

“Yeah, I’m mad and I’m disappointed, but not at you. I know this isn’t your fault.”

“Believe me, I’m disappointed too.”

“So what in the hell is so important that you have to stay?”

“Shooting an Easter segment in November wasn’t a great idea. We’re supposed to be shooting an elaborate egg hunt reenactment, and it hasn’t stopped raining for a week. I was so excited when last night’s forecast predicted four days of sunny weather starting tomorrow, but then I got the call.”

“Who called you?”

“Rachel. Among other things, they’ve found a guy about an hour from here who thinks he’s a leprechaun. His entire house is Saint Patrick’s Day themed… green for days. Can you imagine?”

“Is everyone on this series a complete kook besides me?” he asks warily.

“It’s looking that way,” I admit. “It’s starting to have the disturbing edge of that documentary,
Grey Gardens
.”

“So how is that going to make me look?” he asks, reiterating what I’ve been worrying about. “It reminds me of that saying about being judged by the company you keep.”

“I think it’s going to make you look even more cool and amazing than you already are,” I say, worried that I sound completely full of shit.

“Sophia? Be straight with me,” he says with a low voice.

“I don’t disagree, Will, that every reality show has nuts on it, but there are sane people too. That’s what keeps it interesting, you never know what you’re going to get.”

“At least it will all be over soon. My show’s airing in a few weeks.”

“True. I can’t wait until your fan mail starts pouring in.”

“I’m sure I’m being paranoid, and no one I care about will watch it, or if they do, not even make it past the first commercial.”

“Right!” I say, stifling the thought that he totally discounted what I do for a living.

“I mean who has time to watch that kind of crap anyway?”

I grit my teeth before commenting, “You mean the crap that my career is based on?”

“Oh, don’t take it that way. You know what I mean, baby.” He backpedals.

“Not exactly. You want to explain it to me?”

“What is the value in reality TV anyway? I thought everyone considers it garbage.”

“The value?” I say, trying to manage my temper. “What about other popular programming? What’s the value of watching grown men in stretchy pants throw a ball, try to land on top of each other, and then slap each other’s asses?”

“Are you really going to compare the value of our nation’s favorite pastime with reality TV?” he asks, his voice edged with mock horror.

“Football is so stupid.” I’m riled up.

“Stupid?” he asks in a dramatic voice as if he can’t believe I said it.

“Do we have a bad connection? Yes, I said football is stupid. Idiotic, really. I mean what’s the point?”

“Right, right football, a strategic game of elite athletes competing, thus allowing men to vent all their pent-up testosterone is of equal value to a human leprechaun in his very own shamrock fantasy land.”

“Well I think so. You know what it is, Will?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me,” he says sarcastically.

“Entertainment. Escapism… a way for people to forget about their problems for a while and focus on someone else’s problem.”

“So that makes me a problem?” Will asks.

“Why are you being like this?” I ask, exasperated.

“It’s what you just said… someone else’s problem!”

“Mr. Literal strikes again. Can you lighten up just a bit? What the hell?” I want to growl.

“I’ll lighten up as soon as you stop saying stupid things about football.”

There’s a long silent pause. I try to calm down and not throw the phone across the room.

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