Pink Ice (22 page)

             
“I could fuck this closet. I don’t like it, I love it, and would name my first child after it if you buy it.”

             
He took my hand and walked me to see the main bathroom. A fantastic display of white marble. I had never seen such a splendid shower in my life, and the tub seemed to be perfect for two people.

             
The realtor, a nice lady with short, blonde hair and a perfect business suit came to us. “I need to make a phone call, but please feel free to explore.” With his polite face on, Berkeley walked her to the bathroom door and closed it. Walking back, he just stared at the white marble sink. In a masculine obsessive way he started measuring it, sizing it up to see if the height was good enough for him.
No one gives a damn about a sink’s height!

             
I put myself between him and the sink to stop the deep scrutiny that I had already experienced in the other four apartments. “Come on Berkeley! It is just a bathroom, the place is per…” Without a word he pushed me by the hips against the sink, the strength was enough to make me feel the marble against my back. He got closer to me, dangerously closer. With one more push I was sitting over the sink. And his fingers started to roam over my knee, then my thigh. “Dylan, stop she’ll come back.”

             
Effectively, he shut my mouth with a marvelous, crazy kiss. He was pushing, biting, even pulling my hair, distracting me from the fact that his hand was going straight to my crotch. I didn’t want to, really didn’t, but my arms went to his neck in a reflex movement. His hand on my lower body stopped caressing and in one swift move opened my pants and pushed them down. “You’ll only wear skirts from now on.” He mumbled against my skin in his despair.
You wish Blue Eyes!

             
He opened his own zipper, freed himself and in one thrust entered me. The precision of his moves was so damn thrilling, they made me go crazy. His mouth never left mine, and the hand on my head pushed my face to his as if he had to suck the life out of me.
Princess, what will the realtor think?
“Quick B…harder…please B.” His fingers left my hips and went to the place where we were joined and started rubbing me.

             
I came hard, fast, and needed to bite his shoulder to control the shout that was collapsed in my throat. As soon as I was coming down, Blue Eyes’ body stiffened and followed me with a powerful explosion inside me that weakened my insides. In a crazy fast speed, gaining his composure back, Berkeley arranged himself, and helped me to get as presentable as possible.
Your fuck hair is exquisite darling. Pair of perves!

             
I hopped down from the sink and Dylan kissed me softly. “Fuck, Berkeley. Now you have to buy this place.”

             
“And why’s that Katherine?” His stupid smirk was even more enchanting after hot, forbidden sex.

             
“Because we just christened the bathroom!”

             
He took my hand and started walking towards the door. “Don’t be naïve Katherine, if I had to buy every place I had fucked in, I would own half of the country.”

             
I slapped the back of his head for his stupid comment that only brought my insecurities back, and started looking for the realtor. “Keep talking like that, and I swear I’ll make a priest baptize you to erase your sins, Berkeley.”

             
“Do you like it?” The voice of the agent called our attention. “It is the perfect place for a young couple to start their family.”

             
Shit!
I could only hear them with the sound of my heart, this family thing was moving strange things in my body. “The lady has the future in her hands. She’s the one who will decide. So what it is it Katherine, do you want it?”

             
This was not for me, this was HIS apartment. I couldn’t understand why it was my decision, but if he thought for a second that it would intimidate me, he didn’t know me. “This is the most beautiful apartment we’ve seen today, Berkeley. You would be a fool, if you lose it.”
The 55 million dollar price, will be fantastic for your ego, Blue Eyes!

             
“Well, then it is settled, please take care of this with my assistant.”

             
The realtor’s face lit up as if she had just won the lottery, and probably she had. A commission on that apartment would solve anyone’s problems. In fact, that apartment solved one of my problems, Dylan would be in New York, with me, permanently.

             
We kept our composure until we got to the SUV. “You have a damn fine apartment, Berkeley, I love it.” I kissed him and turned to Joe. “Big Guy, give me
your iPhone.”

             
The three men in the car looked at me as if I had gone nuts. But Big Guy didn’t have a way out, he unlocked it and gave it to me. “Choose a number Max.” He mumbled a 25, keeping his threatening posture and driving the car. “Oh holy shit Joe, please tell me you are kidding me.”

             
From the car’s sound, Kenny Roger’s voice started. Dolly Parton joined him soon, ‘Islands in the Stream’ in all of its glory. Even Max mocked poor Joe for his music taste. “We ride together, uh huh. Makin’ love to each other uh huh.” I was singing at the top of my lungs.

             
“Katherine, how do you know these lyrics?” Dylan tried to seem serious, but the corners of his lips were pulled up.

             
Instead of answering I kept singing, playfully I turned to him and looked him straight in the eye. “And the message is clear, this could be the year for the real thing.” I hadn’t even finished the sentence when he was taking my face purposefully and kissing the hell out of me. Really kissing me.

             
The car didn’t stop until he had stopped kissing me. The song already forgotten, what started as a game to celebrate my good mood because of Dylan’s new residence, finished as a make out session in the back of a car. We got to my apartment between kisses. “Don’t even think this will make me forget, Mr. Berkeley.” I punctuated his name. “You are not allowed to ask favors from me anymore.”

             
With his arms around my waist, his face was too close to my face. “Good thing I just need one more favor.” I truly thought I knew which favor it was, and I had the exact same thing in mind. I went for his lips. “Not that quickly, the favor, I need you to come with me to a dinner next week.” I raised my eyebrow and reduced the distance between our mouths. “You’ll need a new gown, it will be at the Met.”

             
“You’ll have to give me something in exchange.” He smiled at me and pulled my head to his face kissing me madly. If one thing has to be recognized it is that Berkeley knew how to be fair in his exchanges.

             
Chapter 9

             
“Your boss will kill us Joe!”

             
The SUV stopped in front of the Met stairs. “Don’t worry ma’am, you look beautiful, he will forget the delay.” I was adjusting my dress, getting ready to leave the car.

             
“You are way too big to be a fairy godmother Joe, now let’s see if the prince is waiting for me.” His low laugh was the last kind thing before I had to face Dylan’s anger. I was supposed to arrive an hour earlier, but getting into my dress took longer than planned.

             
I felt like a princess, my purple Zac Posen dress was everything I had ever dreamed of. The off the shoulder deep purple dress, had the construction that only Posen could create, a beautiful corset, and a mermaid skirt to the knees, where the tail widened. I was wearing purple Louboutin shoes, and my Alexander McQueen clutch, the same as our first night together. Since the dress was dramatic enough, I put my hair in a soft bun at the bottom of my head. And my only accessory, besides my pearl earrings, was my pearl pendant, the one I hadn’t taken off since Dylan and I got back together.

             
Pulling my dress up, I ran up the stairs. I caught Joe taking a picture of me, the tail of the purple dress against the white building would look perfect. I was almost too nervous and in need of walking faster to pay too much attention. But taking me by surprise, the stairs and entrance were empty and the door was closed.
Fuck, it is over!
In a desperate moment I looked for some guidance. A gentle, thin, black, old man was at the main entrance. “Excuse me sir, I’m supposed to attend a dinner here.”

             
“Are you Ms. Bianchi?”

             
Fuck!
I was the last person, Dylan was going to kill me. “Yes, please tell me I’m not the only one left.”

             
He scrubbed his white hair and smiled to me. “Don’t worry ma’am. They’re waiting for you.” He opened the big door and let me enter.

             
“Do you know where I am supposed to go?” An empty museum at night had to be the creepiest thing in the world, but the nice man made it a little easier for me. If I had been on time, all this mess would have been avoided.

             
I heard his voice behind me, staying by the door while I started walking. “Follow the candles, they’ll lead you to the salon.”

             
“Thank you.” I smiled, while trying to calm myself. I was freaking out, I was a hundred percent sure that there had to be thousands of ghosts in the museum. But I was a little more afraid of Berkeley’s reaction to my tardiness.

             
Losing sight of the surroundings, and focusing on following the candles, I arrived at the salon. The boring room, the one where Dylan decided to make his Met’s statement by kissing the hell out of me a couple of months ago. When I entered, my heart skipped a beat. In the middle of the room was only one table lighted by more candles. Waiting for me was a perfectly tuxed Dylan Berkeley, looking absolutely breathtaking. His hair completely pulled back, the black and white of his tux only framed by the deep blue of his eyes. 

             
When I finally took a step to cut the distance between us, he extended his arm to take my hand. “Beautiful, doll.”

             
“I thought we were coming to a business dinner.” He put his arm around my waist and kissed my cheek in his signature, too long kiss.

             
“I wanted you for myself.” It was unfair that looking like that he could smell that good. I tried to disguise the fact that I was sniffing his neck. And he put his finger under my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. I was still not comfortable with this physical closeness, but Berkeley was not making it easy for me any longer. “We’ve had a couple of rough months, but tonight you are mine.”

             
“The Met, Berkeley?”

             
“I know some people.” The waiter came to us as soon as we were in our seats. He served champagne in Dylan’s cup, and regular Coke in mine. I couldn’t help it, I laughed at the fact that Berkeley had instructed him to give me that. The food came soon, while we talked about the stupid things we always found so funny.

             
The weight that had been over our shoulders since the night that I lovingly called the “Chicago Whore Debacle”, was finally erased. We were relaxed, enjoying each other’s company in a place where, since the very beginning he had proclaimed as part of our relationship, which was non-existent then.

             
By dessert, my tight corset was already a challenge. But I couldn’t help it, I ate almost 2 pounds of strawberries covered in white and dark chocolate. Suddenly, I noticed Dylan was not eating, just staring at me with a warm smile in his face. “What is so funny, Dylan?”

             
“Why are you eating strawberries with a knife and fork?”

             
I kept cutting my fruit with no shame. “I hate to have dirty fingers.” I put the last piece in my mouth, uncomfortable of how Dylan always stared at me. Just when I thought that since we had finished eating it was time to leave. I heard the first notes, a violin version of ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ was being played by a man standing in the corner of the room.

             
I hadn’t even overcome my surprise when I noticed Dylan standing next to me, offering me his hand. “Would you dance with me?” Once again, just like that night in San Antonio, I couldn’t speak. I just stood up and let him guide me to the center of the room.

             
He took me in his arms and started dancing. Surrounded by a thousand candles, I got lost in the sound and Berkeley’s arms. By then I already knew that my body would never get used to being close to him. My heart was crazy beating, my breath was collapsed in my lungs, but I was no longer stiff against his body. Treacherously, my own body tried to be as close to him as it could. Feeling safe, even with all my stupid body reactions, I closed my eyes and put my head on his shoulder.

             
There was no other place in the world where I would prefer to be, than dancing to that song, played only by one instrument, in the arms of this man. His lips were so close to my ear, that it took me by surprise when I heard him singing in the lowest voice. I was not sure he wanted to, probably the words just came out of his mouth.