Lip Service [Private Relations 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 16

  It was six by the time they wrapped up, and Chloe was definitely never ever shopping with Sara again. She’d ended up hauling some of Sara’s bags back to the car along with her own. Her back hurt, and the arches of her feet throbbed. She’d even worn comfortable, ugly shoes.

  Shoving the bags into her trunk and also backseat, they drove back to her apartment, Sara snickering every so often when Chloe would mumble some variation of “Never again.”

  When they got back to Chloe’s, Sara transferred her bags into her car and gave Chloe a quick hug.

  Chloe stood in the parking lot a minute before calling Deacon.

  When he picked up, she immediately said, “What the hell, Deacon! How could you not warn me about this? I literally think my feet are gonna fucking fall off!”

  Deacon laughed hysterically into the phone for a minute or so and said, “She’s insane, right? I thought maybe you had a latent shopping gene that hadn’t activated yet. Guess not, huh kiddo?”

  “You suck, Deacon.”

  Laughing, he asked, “How much did she buy?”

  “I had to help her carry the bags back to the car. She ran out of hands,” Chloe said.

  “Shit. We’re gonna have to get a house at this rate. That woman shops like no one I’ve ever seen,” he said.

  “What about her old place?”

  “Just a rental. She put some stuff in storage and the rest of it she sold. There’s no way we can continue living in my place though, if she keeps having weekends off. I have no closet space anymore,” he sighed.

  Hearing her phone beep, she said, “Gotta go. Freaking jerk. Another call.”

  Hearing him laugh again, she clicked over.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey babe. Still coming over?” Chris asked.

  Pulling the two remaining bags out of the trunk, she said, “I can barely walk. It was awful.”

  Chris said, “Deacon said it would be bad. You want me to come to you?”

  Knowing she was whiny now, she asked, “Would you mind?”

  “Nah. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

  Going upstairs to her apartment, she dropped her bags on the bed, then hopped in the shower. Changing into flannel pajama pants and a tank top, she lay on the couch and watched television while she waited for Chris to get there.

  Blinking as she heard a key in the front door, Chloe sat up as Chris came through the front door, a couple bags in hand.

  He looked at her and set the bags down saying, “Figured I’d save you the trouble of getting up. Deacon said she walked for miles the last time they went to the outlet stores.”

  Shuddering, Chloe said, “It was horrible. I feel like my feet are actually bruised on the bottom. She’s insane. Never again.”

  Sniffing the air now, Chloe said, “What’s in the bags?”

  “Wine,” he said, pulling a bottle of Pinot Grigio out of one bag. “And dinner from that one Italian place we went to.”

  “You’re amazing,” Chloe said.

  Moving the bag of food to the counter and placing the wine in her refrigerator, he said, “First things first though.”

  He lifted her feet up off the end of the couch and sat down, then massaged her arches. Digging his thumb in, he said, “Too hard?”

  Shaking her head, she said, “No. That’s perfect. Thank you.”

  He continued to rub her foot for a few more minutes before switching over to the other. She sighed and said, “If you ever decide the whole PR thing isn’t for you, I would totally hire you to be my personal masseuse.”

  Smiling, he said, “It’s always good to have a backup plan. I’ll keep that under advisement if PR doesn’t pan out.”

  He proceeded to spend the remainder of the evening snuggled up with her on the couch, plying her with wine and excellent Italian food, and periodically rubbing the arches of her feet. They turned on a movie, but neither of them paid much attention to it. Chloe felt herself drifting in and out of sleep.

  Sometime in the night, Chloe woke up. They were now in her bed. Chris was tucked up against her side, asleep. She stared at him for a moment, feeling that all too familiar flutter in her heart region. He must have picked her up and moved her to the bedroom. She had absolutely no recollection of getting up and going to bed.

  Sighing now, she realized she’d been able to be willfully ignorant up until this point, but she couldn’t avoid it any longer. She was utterly, hopelessly in love with him.

  Chapter 22

  When Chris woke up, Chloe was pressed against his side, sleeping peacefully. He smiled, thinking about how she’d been trying to stay awake on the couch next to him last night. When he came over with dinner last night, she’d clearly already been asleep. He’d rubbed her feet, gotten her to eat, then carried her to bed when she passed out.

  Not quite tired himself, he’d stayed up to watch a little bit more television. Mostly, he’d been lost in his own thoughts. During the fishing trip with Deacon, he’d spent most of the morning thinking about Chloe.

  The weekend before they’d gone out on the boat and had sex in several places. Every time he’d tried to focus on what Deacon was talking about, he’d get an image of Chloe in his mind as she bent over the driver’s seat or riding him on the bow of the boat. They had crossed that item of his bucket list off with indelible permanent marker.

  Deacon had finally just asked him, “So, things are pretty serious with you and my sister?”

  Chris hadn’t really considered it much. He’d been avoiding the subject in his mind specifically because he didn’t want to consider it. When posed with the direct question, he said, “Kind of, yeah.”

  He should have known that Deacon wouldn’t let it die there. He’d spent the remaining part of the morning trying to clarify what “Kind of, yeah” had meant.

  Chris shrugged as he thought back now. He supposed that Deacon probably had the right to ask at least some questions. He’d practically raised her, at least during the years that counted.

  By the time they’d finished clarifying his feelings, he’d been annoyed with Deacon for prying and uncomfortable with the results. There was obviously something between them, but he had no desire to label it. Deacon, however, had no trouble defining anything. He’d said, “You’re stupid in love with her and probably have been for a long time.”

  Feeling distinctly uncomfortable after replaying the conversation over in his mind, he slid out from underneath Chloe and went to take a shower. By the time he was done, he noticed she wasn’t in bed anymore. Moving out to the kitchen after he got dressed, he saw her making breakfast.

  “Pancakes?” he asked, perking up.

  “Yeah. I can’t make pancakes for just myself and I’ve wanted them for days,” she said, greedily eyeing the half-cooked pancakes in the pan.

  Handing him the spatula, she said, “Flip them when you start to see little bubbles on the edges.”

  He held the spatula and blinked at her as she walked out of the kitchen, unsure of what had just happened.

  A few minutes later, she came back in. Reaching up, she gave him a kiss and said, “You were in the bathroom when I got up. Had to brush my teeth.”

  Taking the spatula back from him, she checked the edges of the pancakes he’d flipped, then pulled them from the pan. Passing him the plate, she said, “Here you go. Butter and syrup in the fridge.”

  “I’ll wait for you,” he said.

  Grimacing, she said, “Those will be cold. Eat, please.”

  Not needing any further instruction, he placed a pat of butter on each pancake and layered it with syrup. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he moved to the breakfast bar and took a bite.

  Smirking, he said, “If that whole accounting thing falls through, I’d totally let you make me pancakes every day.”

  Laughing, she said, “Yeah. At least I’d have my above average pancake-making skills to fall back on.”

  He continued eating while she stood at the stove, then moved to clean up while she sat down with her breakf
ast. Twenty minutes later the kitchen was clean and they were both full and happy. Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed his lips against hers.

  Moving her head back, she smiled and said, “Your lips taste like syrup.”

  “So do yours,” he said.

  “I’ve got about forty-five minutes of homework I need to do. Would you mind if I did that now?” she asked.

  “Not really. Will the TV bug you?” he asked.

  “I normally listen to music, so I’ll put on some headphones.”

  Settling down in front of the TV with his coffee, Chris turned on Sunday football. It was only ten thirty, but that was one of the best things about living on the West Coast. Football started really early.

  An hour later, totally absorbed in the game, he gave a surprised jump when he felt hands on his shoulders. He felt her lips brush against his cheek, then move to nip at his ear lobe. He tilted his head, enjoying the nips of her teeth and swirls of her tongue against his skin.

  He few minutes later he managed to say, “I didn’t realize you were done with your work. What did you want to do with the rest of the morning?”

  “We need to leave for Deacon’s soon. I’m going to take a quick shower and get ready,” she said, standing up now.

  Reaching for the remote, he turned the TV off and stood up.

  Shaking his head, he said, “Oh, I think we’ve got time for a little something else first.”

  Looking at the clock, she said, “We need to leave in a little over thirty minutes. I have to shower. That doesn’t leave a lot of time.”

  Grinning, he said, “I’ll only need ten minutes.”

  Raising an eyebrow, she smirked and said, “Gee. Ten whole minutes, huh?”

  He stalked toward her now, crowding against her and pressing her back against the wall.

  “Baby, that sounded like a challenge to me. Would you like to find out how many times I can make you come in ten minutes? I feel like that’s what you’re asking for.”

  He could see the flush creeping up her neck, a telltale sign that she was turned on. She shrugged at him, though, feigning indifference.

  “If you think you can,” she said.

  Ten sweaty minutes later they both had the answer to the question. The answer was four. He’d been able to quickly bring her to orgasm with his hand twice, then another two times when he’d bent her over the bed, fucking her from behind. When she’d climaxed the last time, he’d been so overwhelmed by the pressure of her pussy fluttering and gripping around him and her loud cries that he’d been unable to stop himself from coming.

  Panting, he lay next to her on the bed, and said, “The answer is four. Maybe five had I not come. Couldn’t help it though. The sounds you make when you come. They’re so fucking sexy.”

  “Mmmm,” he heard her say next to him.

  Looking over at her, he grinned and asked, “You okay over there?”

  She said, “I have to shower, but now I really don’t want to move.”

  Standing up on weak legs, he pulled her up off the bed and said, “I need to shower now too. I’m all sweaty now.”

  They were only a few minutes late to Deacon’s since they had to stop at the store to grab beer and snacks. Sara buzzed them in when they arrived.

  When they walked in the door, they were surprised to find Elle and Jim sitting on the love seat talking. Chris gave Chloe a look. She raised her eyebrows in a silent question. This was an interesting development. He made a mental note to ask Jim about it.

  After dropping the beer and snacks off in the kitchen, he moved back to the living room and took the empty seat next to Chloe on the couch. She immediately settled into the crook of his arm and leaned against him. He pressed his lips against her temple and then jumped into the conversation about the Legion’s defense. It was only four minutes into game play and the Titans had already scored. This wasn’t a promising start to the game.

  By the end of the game everyone was on the edge of their seats. The Legion ended up winning the game in the last ten seconds with a fifty-five yard field goal. They hadn’t scored a single touchdown but they did score seven field goals including the game winner.

  Chloe stood up and said, “Well thank fuck for the kicking game!”

  There was general agreement followed by snickers.

  Chris shook his head and said, “You’re so classy, babe.”

  She blew him a kiss, which made him grin.

  Football Sunday broke up about six, which was a good thing because he needed to go home and do some laundry. He was leaving for a five-day trip to Boston tomorrow morning. He wouldn’t be back in town until Friday afternoon.

  When they pulled into her parking lot, he mournfully said, “I need to do laundry and pack.”

  Chloe flashed him a pouty face and said, “You should just skip Boston,” as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

  “I wish I could,” he said. “I’m just so sick of the traveling. I really need to talk with Jim and Deak about this. It wasn’t so bad before, but now there’s you.”

  “I’ll be here when you get back,” she said, pressing her lips against his.

  “I know. It just sucks.”

  Nodding, Chloe kissed him again and said, “Okay. Go do laundry. I’ve got more homework and laundry of my own anyway. Let me know when you land?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “See ya later,” she said, as she unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door.

  She gave him one last smile and wave, then headed up the stairs to her apartment. He sighed. He was in too deep. Way too deep.

  Chapter 23

  Chloe walked into the bar across from work, glad that Chris was finally home from Boston. It had been five days and she really missed him. They’d talked for a few minutes here and there, but it wasn’t the same.

  Seeing him at a high-top table, she started to make her way over to him, when she saw a blonde standing there, leaning against the table. She was obviously flirting with him. Chloe stood there for a moment, watching, when she saw the woman slide something across the table.

  Narrowing her eyes, she watched as he nodded and she walked away, hips swaying. To his credit, he just took a sip of his beer.

  Walking up to the table, she slid into the seat that the blonde had just vacated, and said, “Hey.”

  A smile moved across his face and he said, “Hey!”

  Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers and said, “It’s good to be back. I missed you.”

  Arching her eyebrow, she ignored that statement and gestured to the blonde by the bar and asked, “A friend of yours?”

  Wincing, he said, “Not really. Just some woman. She gave me her number. It was kind of awkward.”

  “Probably not as awkward as it was for me watching you take another woman’s number while you were waiting to meet me, I bet,” Chloe said, pointedly.

  Wincing, he said, “It’s not like I’m going to call her. You know I wouldn’t do that. Besides, what was I supposed to say?”

  “You could have just said you had a girlfriend and given it back to her.”

  Blinking, he looked at her and said, “I do?”

  Chloe stared at him for a moment and said, “Don’t you? We’ve been either at your place or mine almost every night for a few months now. You’ve got suits in my closet. Your beer is in my fridge. I’d say that probably makes me your girlfriend.”

  Holding up his hand now, he said, “Maybe, I don’t know. I just don’t feel comfortable defining it, really. I thought things were good. We seemed to have an understanding. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Whether you intended to call the woman or not, I just watched you take a number from some random chick in a bar while you were waiting to meet me. I’ve got to say, that’s sort of an issue for me,” Chloe said.

  Sliding the number, which he’d left on the table toward her, he said, “I just got off a nine-hour flight from Boston to come meet you here. You have to know I’m not looking to pick up so
me random chick in a bar.”

  Closing her eyes a moment, she shook her head and said, “I know. You’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you for coming to meet me.”

  Shaking his head now, he said, “Look, obviously there’s some stuff we need to talk about. Do you want to go back to your place?”

  Nodding, Chloe said, “Sure.”

  When they got up from the table, he took her hand and they walked to the door. Chloe was almost on autopilot now.

  She said, “I’m going to go to the parking garage and grab my car. See you at my place.”

  He tugged on her hand until she stopped, then pulled her into his arms and said, “Really. I had no intention of calling that woman. I wouldn’t do that to you. If I wanted someone else, I’d tell you. I don’t.”

  Nodding, she said, “I know. I just think you could have handled it much better than you did. I also think that we probably have a lot of talking to do.”

  He sighed and said, “You’re probably right. I’ll see you at your place.”

  Leaning his head down, he brushed a kiss against her lips and moved toward his car.

  Walking to her car, Chloe could feel a gnawing ache in her gut already. The conversation that was coming wasn’t going to be pleasant. She could tell by the look on his face.

  She’d done this to herself, though. In her quest to keep things casual and not press him for anything, she’d given him the impression she didn’t expect anything at all. She’d done this all wrong.

  Starting her car, she reasoned that he wasn’t afraid of commitment. He was at her place or she was at his anytime they were both free. Did he want to keep his options open?

  Chloe was already exhausted. Shaking her head, she pulled onto the freeway, which remarkably wasn’t backed up yet, even though it was four.

  The rest of the drive went quickly. She saw Chris’s car in her parking lot already and assumed he had let himself into her apartment. Letting herself in after him, she saw that he had settled on her couch with a bottle of water. Setting her purse and jacket on the chair, she walked over to sit down next to him.