Текст книги "Katherine in Gold"

Автор книги: J. B. Hartnett

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

“I’ve been through this with Nico and Zack. Teensy is due late January, I think.”

“Zack as a father,” I mused.

“He will raise the bar on father-of-the-year criteria,” he said confidently, and somehow, I did not doubt that. “Do you want kids?” he asked.

I thought this was an odd question for one man to ask another, but seeing as how it was Frodo, I didn’t hesitate in my response. “I could go either way.”

“You’re lying,” he stated.

Yes. I was lying.

He turned his body to me and took a drink from his soda. “Your business will fail if you do not sort out the lies between you and dear Katherine. Not because it won’t be a success, for I believe that it will. But the feelings you both deny for each other will be trampled by the secrets you keep.”

And then he was gone.

Like an apparition.

I moved amongst strangers whom I hoped would become more over time. I was now closer to Katherine and watched as her smile faltered. She caught herself, and once again, her face lit in happiness for her friend. I’d overheard her cry out that someone had ruined her, and I could only presume that someone was a man. But now, I realized she’d not only been broken, she’d been robbed of believing these life events everyone around her celebrated—falling in love, marriage, children—were ever going to be hers.

That solidified my determination to find a way in. Even if “us” was never a possibility, she needed to know she deserved what every single man, woman, and child did.

Love.

Katherine

Tomorrow morning, bright and early, Bear Claw would open to the public. That meant I needed to take full advantage of not only my last free afternoon for a while, but the rest of the summer sunshine on my naked body.

I was a single woman with a mostly private deck, two gay neighbors, and very little shame. At two in the afternoon, I heard clomping up my stairs and the greeting of, “You better be naked when I get up there. I brought tacos and Starbucks!”

I couldn’t help but giggle when Tori appeared behind me. I already laid out with a wrap beneath me, just in case someone I didn’t want to see me naked happened to walk up my stairs.

She plunked down on the chaise lounge across from me—it was actually hers from when we lived together—and handed me a venti iced-coffee. “I was really hoping to see a good beaver shot.”

“I’m drinking product from the competition.” I smiled.

“You said you’re not gonna sell iced coffee drinks. Besides, it’s all about convenience, and they’re closer to Taco Loco. But, after tomorrow, I swear my undying loyalty to Bear Claw.” She grinned.

Her drink was forgotten, and somehow, in twenty seconds, half a taco had been consumed.

“How’re you feeling?” I asked.

She replied with a mouth full of food. “Starving. Like, I’ve been on some weird fasting diet for two weeks and my reward meal was anything carby. When I’m done with this, I’ll probably eat the bag it came in.”

“Your body’s preparing itself for the big game.” I smiled and decided to stick with the drink for now, in case she was still hungry after her second taco and needed mine.

She took a break after two, removed my favorite gold-rimmed sunglasses from my face, and demanded, “Now, tell me what the hell is going on in your life, Katherine.”

This was not the Tori I knew and loved. This was a new Tori, driven by hormones and la-la love for her man. I was hoping it would’ve faded a bit by now, not that I wasn’t happy for her, but this was true love I was up against.

And true love was kind of exhausting when you’re not a part of it.

“Something happened while I was gone, and Dee and Ruby said it was better if I heard it from you.”

Oh yeah.

That.

I pulled the fat, green straw from my face. “I walked in on Holst changing out of his wetsuit.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “What’s it like?”

She got right to the point when it came to cock-talk.

“Yeah, well, remember how I said that Goya was better than Dildo-Devon?”

“Yes,” she replied, drawing out the word.

“I can’t tell you about performance, but the equipment is substantial. Oh! By the way, apparently, Frodo is hung.”

“Dee said they aren’t ‘together’ anymore.”

“That’s sad. They’re good together. I hope she gets her head straight before she loses him. I like Frodo. He’s like some guru. Seriously. That guy needs to start an ashram or something and guide people to enlightenment.” I laughed and Tori joined me.

“So is that it? You saw him naked?”

I let out a big sigh.

“There’s more? Oh my God, what?” Her excited eyes lit up as she sucked back the rest of her drink. I knew, any minute, she was going to announce her need to pee.

“So, Ruby and I were at Beachy Bride and there was a dress in the window… Remember how I told you I had this really expensive doll as a kid?”

“The one in the case with all the clothes?”

“The very one. This dress was almost identical to its wedding gown. So, call it temporary insanity, but I had to try it on.”

“Oh, babe,” she said with a solemn whisper. “I missed it.”

Damn it. Now she probably needed to pee and cry.

“An hour later, Holst comes in, kisses me, like, kisses me, Tor. This wasn’t a kiss; this was the kiss.”

A wide grin spread across her face, and I knew what she was thinking. Her, Ruby, and Dee…they were all the same.

“I’m not getting married.”

“Yeah, you are, Kath.” She chuckled.

“Fuck you.” I pushed my sunglasses back over my eyes, but she knew I was fighting a smile.

“So Holst? He’s hot.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, but changed my tone to serious, took off my sunglasses again, and made sure she heard every word I said. “It was fun playing dress up, and that kiss was amazing, Tor, but I’m never going to get married. Not ever.”

She abruptly stood and went into the apartment, likely to relieve her bladder, but also to get away from me before she said something she’d regret. When she returned, she hit the chimes on the deck, her chimes, and said, “A friend of mine told me to take it all in. So, think about that, and I’ll see you at the grand opening tomorrow.”

“You’re going already?”

She motioned toward the bag. “You can have the last taco.” She stood there, not moving, and finally said, “Kath, I love you. You’re my best friend in the whole world. You’ve held my hand through guy drama and my hair through drunk drama. All that, and you still won’t tell me why. Maybe it’s because of my hormones, but I’m not gonna start using that as an excuse now. All I know is, it hurts me that you don’t trust me enough to tell me what happened that made you not want this.”

“Want what? To have a baby?” I tried to play this off as a light-hearted attempt at a joke, but failed miserably.

“No, Kath. To let yourself fall in love.” She turned and moved slowly to the top of my steps. I needed her to stop, because I couldn’t follow her anywhere in my thin wrap. Fortunately, she stopped when I stood behind her.

“I don’t talk about it because, babe? It hurts. And I’m not talking my ex-fiancé broke off our engagement the night before the wedding because he’s gay.” That’s what happened to Tori, but if it hadn’t, she and Cam wouldn’t be she and Cam. “That sucked. I know it did. But this is so different, and I need you to please, please understand it isn’t because I don’t love you. It isn’t because I don’t trust you. It’s because it fucking hurts, Tori. Get it?”

But I didn’t give her the chance to talk that she’d given me. I walked back into my apartment and shut the door. I needed to take a shower and go to the grocery store. I needed to fold laundry. I needed to watch T.V. And, after all that, I needed to fall asleep on the couch before my alarm sounded at six the next morning.

And hopefully…not feel.

***

Holst couldn’t stop smiling, and, I had to admit, I was pretty damn happy, too. I completely forgot about my conversation with Tori the day before. When she came in to buy herself and Ruby ceremonious first cups of coffee from Bear Claw, she did it with a smile, like nothing had happened at all. In fact, we were too busy for me to think about much of anything. I checked my phone when I took a bathroom break and found another message and a new email from my mother, but I didn’t bother to read them or return her call. Nothing and no one was about to ruin this day for me.

Holst had just turned the sign on the door to “closed” and leaned against it, facing me with a smile on his face.

“We had a successful first day,” he stated.

“Yeah.” I smiled back. “We kicked ass.”

“We should celebrate,” he suggested. “Would you like to join me for dinner, Katherine?”

I’d just finished mopping. Holst did all the paperwork and bank deposit. We both stocked and cleaned. The only thing that went wrong, we underestimated the amount of baked goods we’d need, but that could’ve been an opening day fluke.

And even though I was tired in a way that felt fantastic, the next words just poured out of my mouth naturally. “I’ll cook for you. Come about seven.”

Holst moved to the counter and turned the open cash register to face the front window—so robbers would assume breaking in was a waste of time—and just stared at me. This went on for so long, I finally asked with a light chuckle, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re being nice to me,” he observed, the smile he’d had most of the day never leaving his face.

“What is it they say about being a bitch is a waste of energy?”

His smiled widened. “I’ve never heard that expression, and please accept this as the compliment I intend it to be…nice is a good look for you.”

“Why, thank you, Holst.” I grabbed my purse from under the counter and checked my pocket to make sure I had my phone and keys. “Right. I’m out. I’ll see you later?”

“May I bring something? A contribution to the meal?”

“How about you bring dessert,” I said.

“I’m already bringing myself. I would think that should be more than even you can handle, Katherine.”

He laughed when he delivered this line, and it was meant to be a joke, but for some reason, it made me feel like a great big whore. And not in the funny way I said the word to my girlfriends. It hit me deep, the same way Mark made his departing comments to me that night at the exhibit. I turned, trying to hide any emotion my face might betray, and went to leave.

“Right. So I’ll see you at seven.”

Seeing my reaction wasn’t the one he expected, Holst immediately met me at the front door. I had my back to him, finding the store key buried in my pocket so I could lock the door behind me.

“Katherine,” he said, right against the exposed skin of my neck. “I know how you heard that, but it’s not how I meant it. I should’ve thought before I spoke. In no way did I mean to imply….”

“It’s okay,” I said to the glass only an inch from my face. “Really. I’m just—”

But he didn’t let me finish. He pressed his body closer to my own, pushing me against the door with his weight, his power. “Turn around, Katherine.”

“No,” I whispered.

“Turn around.”

“No,” I said again.

“I’m requesting, but if you don’t, I will eventually make you turn around.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” God, I sounded like a brat.

“I respect you, so don’t mistake my words as me trying to control you. But it’s taking all my willpower not to taste you again. I’ve worked beside you all day, each of us falling into a natural rhythm, always anticipating what the other needs. You feel it; I know you do, so I’m asking that you please turn around.”

Then, quietly, I admitted with a shake of my head, “I’m not ready for this.”

“You are. You’re just scared, and I want to know why.”

I didn’t answer.

“Turn around,” he asked again, his breath against my skin like fire. Anyone who walked past the shop would see me pressed against the door. They would also see the long fingers of Holst splayed across my belly, moving lower…and lower, to the point I had no choice but to turn in his arms, and when I did, he moved us in front of the window where the shades were pulled.

“Please don’t do this.”

I didn’t give him my eyes or dare lift my head to look at him. He’d kiss me again, and God, I wanted that kiss, but fuck, I couldn’t, I didn’t…I didn’t know what I wanted.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and there was something about the way he asked. Something that made me want to comply. And the last time I’d felt that way…

“You’ll break me,” I admitted.

“I’ll fix you,” he immediately returned.

“It’s risky…the shop…I can’t fail.”

“You won’t. We won’t,” he assured, and I knew, he meant more than the business.

I needed space. I needed not to be so close to him. “I changed my mind. Seven-thirty is better. Shebang Meringue sells this dessert, lemon and pistachio, it’s my favorite.”

“Katherine,” he asked, his finger and thumb so gentle on my chin, coaxing me to look at him.

That’s when my frustration grew, and, even pressed against his body, I let my hands fly as I finally looked at him. “This isn’t me. I’m not like this. I’m only like this with you, and it’s freaking me out, so I need a couple hours to regroup and—”

But I couldn’t finish because he was kissing me. That beautiful mouth of his was on mine, his tongue slipped inside with ease and welcome familiarity—and possibly a moan on my part—that kiss was probing, discovering, and so fucking hot, I felt everything in my body pulse at the same time. I was wet, I was aching, and I wanted him. God, I wanted him, and feeling that beauty of a cock pressed right against my pelvis, I wanted nothing more than to pull down my shorts and let him fuck me in the middle of the shop.

He slowed the kiss, teasing and touching my lips with his tongue. He took my hand, which was still holding the key, and pried it from my fingers, letting it drop to the floor. Then my empty hand was placed over the length of him, straining against his jeans.

His gruff voice asked, “I would hazard a guess that you are as wet as I am hard. Am I wrong, Katherine?”

My heart was pounding in my chest as I let out a long, shuddering breath. “No…you are not wrong.”

“Then tonight, I’ll tell you my story, and when you’re ready, you’ll tell me yours…then, I think it’s about time we fuck. Don’t you?”

I nodded, because I was insane.

He bent down and picked up the key from the floor, reached to his right and turned the lock. There was no thought behind my next actions; I just gripped my hand over his cock, and squeezed without a word.

He smiled down at me. “I guess that answers my question then.”

Holst

Katherine left, and I locked the door behind her. I knew what the implications were of us exploring our attraction to each other, and I also did not care. If things went bad, I would offer to buy her out, remain a silent partner, or leave. But I knew that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted a partner, or the faux-independent Katherine would not have gone into business with me, a man she’d made such an effort to push away.

And all her actions did was intrigue me to know more.

It was obvious she was holding on to something from her past. All I had to do was prove I would not fuck her over.

And I intended to make that perfectly clear.

When I was younger, I envisioned being the man of the house. Going to work, coming home to my beautiful wife and children, a meal on the table, and, in turn, giving her everything her heart desired. In the last few months, not once did those thoughts ever occur with Katherine in mind. Before her, my nature with a woman was to be somewhat dominant, so Katherine presented a challenge, or did, until I had her pressed against my cock, barely able to speak, let alone breathe. With her, I felt equal; I felt balanced.

But I would never stop calling her Katherine.

In the three hours since we’d parted, I went to my apartment, showered, shaved, and threw a change of clothes into a duffle bag. I went to the bakery for the dessert she mentioned, and, finally, to the grocery store, where I bought champagne to celebrate the opening of our place. Last, but not least, I also purchased a box of condoms, because, even if it didn’t happen tonight, it was going to happen.

With over an hour left to kill, I decided to surprise her. I enjoyed Katherine irritated, and had the distinct feeling it would serve as a sort of foreplay going forward. I was grinning when I knocked at quarter to seven, forty-five minutes early.

She opened the door to my smile. I gazed upon her scowl.

“I haven’t…I’m not…you’re early!”

“I’m pretty good around a kitchen,” I replied and pushed my way through the door.

She stood there, her long hair pulled back in a loose braid, a vintage tank top with barely legible letters that said Jethro Tull worn over jean shorts, and nothing but long, brown legs, bare feet, and bright pink toenails.

“Nice color,” I complimented.

“Uh, do you want something to drink?”

“Is something in the oven?” I asked as we stood there in her entry, the living room to the right, her kitchen and dining table to the left, and us in between.

“I made you a roast chicken. I only put it in about half an hour ago. Everything else is done, but—”

“Lock the door,” I commanded, interrupting her.

“Excuse me?”

“Lock the door, Katherine.”

“Listen, you can’t just come in here, boss me around in my apartment, tell me…”

I locked the door, went into her kitchen and set the dessert on her table, threw my duffle on her couch and stood before her.

“What’s with the bag?”

“You know exactly why I brought a bag.”

“I think we need to talk about some shit. This,” she jabbed a finger at me, then at herself, “is not happening.”

As soon as she moved her hand away, I caught her finger and held her wrist tightly in my hand.

“Let me go,” she protested, but her heart wasn’t in it.

“Fuck, no.”

“I’ll scream.”

“I’m happy to role-play,” I returned and shrugged.

“I’m not fucking kidding. Let my hand go.”

I yanked her toward me, her tits giving a bounce when she hit my chest. “Touch my cock, Katherine.”

“Excuse me?”

“Like you did today. Feel my cock and tell me you don’t want me inside you.”

Her eyes glittered with conflict, but desire won in the end. I saw it when she moved her hand of her own free will, and, instead of letting me go, she stroked the length through my jeans.

Her eyes closed, but her hand kept moving when she confessed, “I don’t want to fuck up the business.”

“If this doesn’t work and it becomes awkward, I’ll buy you out, you can buy me out, or I’ll just remain a silent partner and you can hire someone else to run it with you.”

“You seem to have thought of everything.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

I moved my lips against her neck while her hand remained on my shaft.

“You play dirty, Holst,” she whispered.

“I play real. But I’ll show you dirty after we have dinner. Right now, it’s all about you, Katherine.”

“There are about a thousand scenarios going through my head right now,” she murmured.

“Couch, no shorts, no panties, ass to the edge and spread.”

“No. No, no, no. I need to put the brakes on. You tricked me with your big cock, and I’ve seen it.”

“Don’t over think it.” I moved my hand to the top of her shorts and popped the button to push my hand inside, over her panties, and found them soaked. I pushed into the fabric and rubbed my middle finger between her folds and said quietly, “I require an appetizer. On the couch, no shorts, no panties, ass to the edge.”

I took my hand from her, the moan of protest all the coaxing I needed to keep pushing her to her limits. I followed and watched as she let the garments fall, one by one, exposing that beautiful treasure I’d hoped was waiting under her golden gown that day.

First, she moved to the edge and looked everywhere else but me—the coffee table, the television, my jeans—until I kneeled in front of her while I stared at her face and demanded, “Eyes, baby.” Hers flashed, darkened by her arousal, but never leaving mine. “Open for me.”

I placed my hands on each knee and journeyed with them as they spread before me: soft pink folds, neatly groomed light brown hair, and a glistening pussy ready to be devoured. I moved the tip of my tongue into the wet and lapped upward against her hardened clit, then softened the stroke to move gently around it. Her thighs quivered while I worked her, not hard, not soft, until I found the perfect pressure that made her moan, and when it did…

I thrust my hands under her ass and sucked her clit while she squirmed beneath me. Her hands went to my hair, pulling then pushing when I would not stop. She was about to come when I heard her beg, “Please…Holst.” And when she came, shaking and gripping my hair so hard I delighted in that pain, I flicked her clit with my tongue when she cried, “Stop!” And again, and again, until she moaned and pushed her pussy into my face, riding my mouth as she came a second time.

Panting, sated by two orgasms in less than five minutes, I watched her soft expression as I pulled the lips of her pussy between my own, lifted my eyes to her, and slowly took my head from between her legs.

“Now, I think you should eat something, Katherine,” I said with a satisfied smile. I loved to eat pussy, and if I had to choose between giving and receiving, I preferred to give or to fuck. And now that I’d had Katherine’s pussy in my mouth, the way she responded to me, the way she tasted, I was very much looking forward to doing it again.

And often.

“You’re an asshole,” she mumbled. “You manipulated me with your cock and then you made me come. Twice.”

“Yes. I can see how that’s a problem for you.”

She gave me the finger, but her hand flopped down onto the couch.

“I’ll get the food. You recover. And while we eat, I’ll tell you…everything.”

She took her time finding her clothing and joined me in the kitchen. I spoke to her while I took the delectable chicken from the oven, emitting my own groan as my mouth watered at the sight and scent. We moved together, an all too natural dance while she went one way and I went the other. Just like at the shop, we inherently seemed to understand the intention of the other.

When we were seated and she began to slice into a potato, I began my tale.

“My ex and I worked together. She was a vegetarian. I was weary of hearing her complaints that I ate meat…and the thing she hated more than anything…when I ate veal or lamb.”

“That explains the food orgasm you had that night.”

“Because of that, I gave up everything but chicken and fish. She drank, too much, and when she did, she was an ugly drunk. I don’t drink to get drunk…I need to stay…in control. We were living together, hadn’t made love in months because, when I touched her, she wanted that control.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you’re kinda bossy.”

“Not bossy. Perhaps a bit dominant. There’s a difference. And her need for control was not the same as mine.”

“Bummer you’re not a dom. That could be interesting.”

“Let me say now, Katherine, that when it comes to sex, your pleasure is my focus, and, in turn, my reward. My nature is to be dominant, but I require equality. I wish to be no one’s master.”

“Your ‘nature’ makes it sound like, if I do what you want, you’ll make sure I get a happy ending.” She grinned.

“Yes.” I returned her smile. “That’s one way to look at it. Anyway, my ex decided she no longer loved me and used the fact I had to fire her as an excuse to drink more.”

I looked at my plate, trying to decide if now was time to tell her everything, but something stopped me. If the relationship grew as I hoped it would, I’d tell her more when the time came.

“We did not part well. We sold the house and I put some of my share into Bear Claw. During that time, my father, an equally abusive drunk I hadn’t seen or spoken to since I was eight years old, died, and left a half a year’s lease on an apartment here in Laguna. When he passed, I finished the tattoo of an ankh on the back of my calf, Nico having done the first on my left leg, Frodo having done the second on my right. I mentioned my need for a fresh start and what I hoped to do. In the meantime, I gutted my father’s apartment and made it into a place I would be happy to walk into at the end of a long day. And so you know, I haven’t been with a woman since Chelle.”

“Why?” she asked without hesitation. “You’re hot.”

“Because I’m thirty-six, and, despite the rantings of your ex, I do not require thirty-year-old pussy to fill the void. I require strength of character, determination, independence…a woman who knows her own mind, who will allow me to give her the world, a woman with beautiful eyes, long legs, and a pussy that drips when I whisper in her ear.”

“Hurry up and eat,” she commanded and began to shovel food into her mouth.

“Is there a fire?” I asked.

“Yeah, in my pants.”

I chuckled as her phone began to ring on the kitchen counter. “It’s probably Tori checking in. We had a kind of…argument and haven’t really talked about it yet.”

“She was there today; she seemed fine,” I commented.

“She’s waiting for me to make the next move. Hang on…Hello?” she said into the phone. But the smile on her face vanished. “Dad…” She held her finger to her lips, asking that I remain silent as she put the phone on speaker.

“Dad, hang on a minute—”

Katherine smiled.

“He hung up on me.” Her reaction to the phone call, which I’d only heard one side of, seemed amused. “Bet my dad kicks your dad’s ass in the emotionally abusive department.”

“Katherine—”

“We’ll eat, Holst. We’ll have some dessert, and then I think you’d better go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I told her firmly.

“Okay then, here’s what I’ve never told anyone, and then, I really need you to go, and I’ll see you at work in the morning.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“You wanna know my story, Holst? You wanna know why I’m so fucked up?”

“Kather—”

“When I was fourteen, I fell in love with an older man. He took my virginity, and we carried on a relationship for just over five years, until he left me when I was twenty.”

“Katherine, please…I—”

She dropped her fork to the plate and continued. “I had to keep it a secret, but I knew what I was doing. I went into it knowing exactly what dating an older man meant, but I loved him, Holst. I loved him in a way I’ve never loved since, and probably never will again.”

Her head dipped lower, and though her voice didn’t betray the emotion, I watched her tears hit the table and plate in front of her while I remained silent through her colossal admission.

“He was loving where my dad was cruel. He told me I was beautiful, inside and out when neither one of my parents ever had a kind word for me. I told him my dream of having my own café, and he told me never to let that dream die, and never, not once, did he make me feel useless.” She raised her head, eyes glassy with tears. “I asked him if he would come back for me. I gave him…everything,” she said as she shook her head, and, in her utter disbelief, told me what I already knew. “He never came back.”

And that was when Katherine fell apart. I had no idea how long she’d been holding onto that pain and the secrets that kept it buried, but telling me was huge, and the catalyst had been the berating phone call from her dad.

Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but to me, it felt absolutely right when I moved to her, one arm behind her back, the other beneath her knees, and carried her into the bedroom.