Facade (14 page)

“Can we eat yet?” Skylar chimes in from the background.

“Yes, babe.  Come on, let’s get some food to calm cranky pants down.”  Mira rolls her eyes and walks into the kitchen.

“I heard that, Sweets,
” he growls. 

“Oh, shush.  You love me.”  If this is how these two
fight, sign me up.

“More than words.”
  Mira runs into the living room and pounces on an unsuspecting Skylar. 
And … fight’s over.

More than words
is right.  Kylee Anderson is it for me.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Kylee

“I’m an author,” I whisper, lying on Jacoby’s chest after a few rounds of “I’ve missed you and don’t ever leave me again,” sex.  It’s been a magical day.

“You most certainly are.”  Jacoby hugs me tighter to his body, placing a lingering kiss on the top of my head. 

Taking my fingers and running them
through the fine hair on his torso, down to the trail that leads to the happiest place on earth, I start to drift off to sleep.  When I’m in that place, right between conscious and unconscious, Jacoby pulls me out with just four words.

“Move in with me.”  It’s not a
question—more of a statement—and I’m gasping for air. 
He can’t be serious.  We just got back together.

“You’re kidding, right?” 

“Not even a little.  That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about, after I told you about Shelby, of course.  We’ve been doing this dance for too long.  I only want you, you only want me—this is the logical progression.  And the thought of having you whenever I want you just does something to me.”  Leave it to Jacoby to try to lighten the mood.

Why wouldn’t I want to live
with him?  When we’re together, we’re never apart; we basically live together anyway.  Fuck if it doesn’t scare the shit out of me.  Obviously, he’s not going to give up this great big house for my small apartment.  What happens when we don’t work out?  I’ll be homeless and heartbroken.

“Is this something I have to decide right now?”  I’m so relieved that I’m lying on his chest and he can’t see how big my eyes are or the fact that I’m struggling to catch my breath.

“No, of course not, but I do want you to give it some thought.  Maybe we can do a trial run or something.”

“A trial run sounds good.  I can do that.”  My heart slows and I force myself to relax. 

Sleep doesn’t come quickly, but when it does, Jacoby consumes my dreams.

“Welcome home,” Jacoby says, moving the last of my boxes into his house.

We both go into the kitchen where his housekeeper has prepared a meal fit for a king; filet mignon, roasted red potatoes and steamed vegetables.  She also didn’t forget to bring the most expensive bottle of champagne out, cork popped and chilling in a bucket of ice.  If I didn’t know any better, I would think I was at a five star restaurant where the meal will cost more than a car payment.

“This is wonderful.  Thank you.”  I place a kiss on Jacoby’s jaw line and a
groan rises from the deepest part of him.

“If you keep doing that to me, we won’t be eating dinner. 
Well, I’ll be eating, but it won’t be steak.”  A rush of desire takes over my body, making me lean into him while taunting more threats out of him.

When Jacoby wraps an arm around my waist, his hand lingering a little too far to the south, grazing the top of my ass, I whimper.  Pushing into him, seeking more of his touch, I brush his erection.  Jacoby’s embrace tightens.

Jacoby lifts me effortlessly, sitting me down on the cool wood of the table.  His mouth comes down on mine hard, bruising my lips, and the slight taste of copper resides on my tongue from where his tooth came into contact with my lip.  I should probably slow down, knowing that he’s drawn blood, but it only fuels the passion exploding around us.

Frantically, I’m ripping at his white button
-up dress shirt.  Getting frustrated with opening one at a time, I grip the top and tear apart the seam, sending buttons flying in every direction.  I faintly hear the little plastic pieces clinging off the china that’s set out for our celebration dinner.

“Christ, Kylee.  You’re going to be the death of me,” Jacoby says, bringing his tongue to my neck, licking the thin column from my throat to the lobe of my ear. 

“No better way to go,” I melt at his words, trying to reciprocate this intense feeling I have, but am quickly denied when I’m pushed back to lie on the table. 

In one fluid motion, Jacoby rips my yoga pants and thong from my body.  Without hesitation, he plunges two fingers into my core and
sucks my clit between his teeth, flicking the bundle of nerves with his tongue. 

“This. 
Is.  Amazing,” I pant, my fingers instinctively finding their way to his hair, latching on and holding him in place.

I shamelessly grind my pussy
into his face, seeking the pleasure that’s not too far away.  When I feel my legs begin to quake, I know I’m close.  Pushing his head against me even harder, my motions becoming more concentrated and I fall apart at the seams. 

“Wow.”  That’s all my exhausted body will allow me to say between shallow breaths.

“Welcome home.”

I wake up, feeling too hot from Jacoby lying on top of me and a dull ache between my thighs that only he can satisfy.

Yep, I’m moving in with him.  I know it’s just a dream, but deep down, I know it will be our reality. 

It’s been a short three weeks since I made the decision to move in with Jacoby.  He’s loved me and given me the benefit of the doubt time and time again.  He’s been patient, when anyone else would have
run away from my crazy.  Most importantly, he wants me because I’m me; no fluff, just me.  How could I not love a man like that and want to move forward with my life? 

Jacoby and I decide to sublease my apartment to an intern from his company.  It’s a month to month lease, so if anything goes wrong with Jacoby and me, I have a place to come home to.  I’m a little sad to not have my office, but Jacoby’s promised to give me an even better space.  I don’t know how that’s going to be possible, but we’ll see how it goes.

With Mira getting everything ready for her engagement non-party tonight, I’ve had to deal with most of this on my own.  It’s kind of difficult, but I know it’s because we’re all going in different directions; Mira and Skylar planning their wedding, Danny and his busy work schedule and me moving in with Jacoby.  It’s like all is right in the world, but I miss my friends. 

To top off the stress of Mira’s shindig, Shelby is coming to spend a week with Jacoby
and it’s as good a time as any to meet her.  From what I gather, he gets every other holiday and the extended breaks at school.  I know he wishes he lived closer, but with Dawn, his ex, having her career in Chicago and Jacoby’s here, it’s too hard.  I see the sadness in his eyes when he talks about her, but since Dawn let him know about Shelby’s upcoming break, there’s a bit more happiness behind those honey orbs.

“Is that the last of it?” Jacoby asks, carrying the last box out of the apartment.  I look around, making sure I’m not forgetting anything.

“Yep.  Everything that’s left stays.”  I walk to the door, turn the lock and stare back inside the place that’s been home to me for the last four years.  Remembering all the good times, and not so good times, my eyes mist, but I know my life can only get better from here.

Jacoby carries
everything inside, not letting me help with anything other than the one box with my office stuff inside.  Once he has the last load in the house, he takes me by surprise when he picks me up to carry me to a door that’s behind the stairs.

“What’s this?”
I question as Jacoby fiddles with a few keys before picking the one that’s going to open the door.

“You need a space to be creative and here it is.”  Jacoby opens the door to another office space, and true to his word, it’s better than my last.

The tones of this room are warm and comforting, while the furniture has a modern feel.  My old bookcase is here, lined perfectly with all my stuff.  The vast difference is a picture frame that sits behind the desk; it’s a photograph of the cover of my book with an article from the New York Times that lists my book as a best seller.

“Jacoby,” I whisper, shocked that he could make something so beautiful and that I’m apparently a best seller; New York Times, no less.

“I knew you could do it.  With your first book, too.  I’m so fucking proud of you, Red.”  I jump into Jacoby’s arms and plant small but significant kisses all over his face.

I
should’ve known better than put my hands on him in an office.  It seems that wherever computers or books are, we can’t help ourselves.  One thing leads to another and I’m naked from the waist down, as is Jacoby, and I’m in for the ride of my life.

“Hold on to the edge and don’t let go.  Watching you bend and pack all day – shit Kylee,” he grunts, thrusting into me from behind. 

I do as he asks, anchoring myself to the desk, and take everything he gives to me.  The sound of our lovemaking drives me higher until I feel the crescendo making its appearance. 

“Harder,” I pant, begging for the orgasm that’s on the brink.

“Hold on, Red.”  Jacoby nearly pulls entirely out of me before slamming home.  He repeats this process a few times before I’m screaming in pleasure … pain … no, pleasure, ‘sweet mother of all things holy’ pleasure.

His body goes rigid against mine, pouring into me, and marking me for his own.  For being our first ten minutes of living together, this isn’t a bad way to start off.

“Welcome home,” Jacoby says, just like in my dream and I’m ready for round two.

“Let’s go take a shower.”  I walk out the door, winking as I leave him to clean up his mess, and carefully walk up the stairs.  I don’t know about you, but having come drip down my leg isn’t as hot as some might think.

Round two … and three take place in the shower, and I don’t think I can have sex for at least a few days.  My body is sore in places I didn’t know existed and I’m starved. 

“Babe, I need food,” I whine from the bed, where I sat down twenty minutes ago and am failing miserably
at getting up.

“Are you hungry?” Jacoby eyes me with lust in his eyes. 
Oh no, no, no.  Not again. I’m exhausted, I think my vagina is broken and if my stomach growls one more time, it might just eat itself.

“Food, Jacoby.  I need
food
,” I demand.  Whiny time is over; I get a little cranky when I’m starving.

“Okay, okay,” Jacoby gets out of bed, taking my not so subtle hint, and goes downstairs.

I muster up enough energy to follow him down and slump in one of the barstools at the breakfast bar in the kitchen.  Jacoby’s rummaging through the fridge when I see strawberries and chocolate syrup.

“That,” I point to the fruit, “I’d like those
, please.”  Jacoby’s eyebrows rise and his lips turn up in a deviant grin.  “No, don’t even think about it.  I’m out of commission for at
least
twenty-four hours.  I want the strawberries and chocolate, nothing else, sir.”

“Well, we’ll save that idea for another day,” Jacoby laughs, handing me my snack. 

He then proceeds to pull out enough food to feed a family of six and starts throwing things in a frying pan.  Okay, I know that my vagina is broken in ways unknown to scientists, but watching my extremely sexy boyfriend, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, cook—well it’s doing something to me.

Licking my lips in appreciation, Jacoby turns around and catches me red
-handed, staring at him like he’s a Thanksgiving turkey and I’m a ravenous Pilgrim.

“Like what you see, Red?” 
Hell to the fuck yes, I do.  Actually, I love it.

“Oh, stop it.  Hurry up, we have to get dressed. 
We only have a few hours left.  If I’m late, Mira will kill me.”  I brush off my arousal and finish my plate. 

Jacoby puts his meal on a plate, sits next to me at the breakfast bar, and puts his hand on my bare thigh.  I
almost jump out of my skin.  How is it possible to be fully sated until he touches me?  I’ll never understand.

I rush upstairs to find the dress I’m
going to wear, avoiding any more contact with Jacoby.  He’s left laughing in the kitchen while I’m trying to calm down enough to make sure my underwear aren’t going on backward. 
Real fucking funny, mister.

I’m finishing the last of my makeup, already wearing my blood red maxi dress, when Jacoby comes upstairs to change.  While staring in the mirror, trying to put on mascara, I see Jacoby in his walk
-in closet picking out his wardrobe.  As he shrugs into a button-down black shirt, the muscles in his back ripple and flex.  I almost miss my eyelashes and put the mascara wand straight through my eyeball. 
Maybe living with Adonis wasn’t such a smart idea.  I’m never going to wear makeup again.

It’s a
short drive to the restaurant Mira’s chosen for her engagement non-party, since everyone except her and Skylar live in Ann Arbor, or just outside.  Walking through the doors, the first person I spot is Mira’s mom.  It feels like ages since I’ve been back to see her and the sudden pang of guilt hits me hard in the pit of my stomach.  I know we’re all moving on in our lives, but I should make time for her; she was always there for me growing up.

“Hey
, Mom,” I greet Mira’s mom.

“Sweetheart, aren’t you just gorgeous.”  She kisses my cheek and pulls me in for a hug.  “Mira told me you wrote a book and it’s doing fantastic.  I’m so proud of you.”  Tears spring to my eyes.  My own parents have been too consumed with their fucked up marriage to even consider calling and telling
me congratulations or anything.  It might help if I told them I wrote a book and didn’t publish it under a pen name, but still, they don’t even call to say hello.  I’m not extending an olive branch.