The Romance Novel Book Club (14 page)

 
Chapter Twenty-Seven

The ticket to the convention had been my bedmate for the night. A reminder that it represented my missed opportunity to get to know Matt just a little bit better. My somber mood, void of the childish pouting I usually employed, prepared me for the worst. I couldn’t expect Matt to let every little crazy chick thing I did slide away into the forgetful pool. I was an ass, and I’d own up to it.

My life of debauchery flashed before my eyes as I applied the slightest bit of eyeliner. The make-up would be my barrier against crying. What self-respecting girl wanted to be the sad clown running down the street with cheeks caked with smeared liner?

In front of the mirror, I thought of all the men I’d jumped on in the turnstile of life. Each didn’t measure up to my ideal picture of the man package I wanted to strut beside. The hunky Adonis arm candy that made all women wish they were me. The cruel reality was I wasn’t perfect. To build my male expectations so high up I’d bleed through the nose if I climbed the summit. Way stupid.

My outfit for the evening consisted of the white shirt free of the wine stain. A skirt barely reaching my knees topped it off along with stiletto heels. I wanted to look right into Matt’s eyes when I apologized. I wanted to gaze and get lost one more time into the soul of the man who took the time to know me. To love me for who I was through all my crazy spells.

I grabbed a tissue as the first black streak made its way down my cheek. I needed so desperately for someone to tell me, to hold me tight, and say I didn’t screw the best thing that ever came into my life up.

I blew out a long steady breath and straightened my back. My feet began the walk to either salvation or desolation. The knock at the door signaled Julie’s arrival, and I only paused to collect my keys.

I swung the door wide. “Let’s do this.”

She smiled at me. “You got this, girlfriend. I’m just going to play your trusty wingman. Maybe someday I’ll do it in a taffeta dress.”

I scrunched up my nose and hooked my arm in hers. “No way am I letting my Maid of Honor wear that. I figure polyester and suede in lime green would be so much better.” Julie’s firm hold on my arm was the only thing keeping me vertical. The air outside was cool and a breeze ruffled our hair, but that wasn’t the reason I trembled.

The giant ugly monster known as commitment tried to reason with my brain’s weak side. It screamed for me to bolt back inside and order a knitting book. The dozen cats could wait until morning.

My heels clacked on the pavement. Julie’s car loomed in the parking lot, and I didn’t take another breath until I sat inside the cab. I gave the chains holding me back a shake and a virtual finger to every insecurity that tried at every turn to keep me from lasting happiness. No more one-night stands for that high sex injected into me.

Casa Favolosa’s sign never looked so inviting as Julie parked the car on the street. I jumped out and dug a few quarters out of my purse. Each shiny coin I jammed in was a small prayer that Matt would be inside.

As I reached for the door, Julie jerked me back.

“We’re dining in the courtyard tonight. No more smoky atmosphere. You need to breathe tonight.”

She led me down the small alley. A stupid grin spread across my lips. I had run down the narrow walkway to get to the back the night my car didn’t start. My feet stuttered past the entrance where Matt waited for me. My gaze stayed on the door as we continued on, hoping it would crack open and I’d witness those gorgeous eyes peering at me.

In the back, a few people already sat enjoying the fare Casa Favolosa was famous for. Julie gestured to a table for two, and I wiggled in my seat. My mind went from breadsticks to potential schlong sighting in zero to six seconds. My heart pounded in my chest as a shadowy figure exited the restaurant with a basket in his hand.

I begged whatever being would listen that it be Matt. I almost tore the napkin in my lap in two waiting for him to emerge from the shadows. As I got a good glimpse of the mystery man’s face, my lip quivered. It wasn’t Matt. I’d lost him. No way would he allow someone else to wait on us.

“Good evening, ladies.” The man smiled. “What can I get you to drink?”

“I’m good,” I muttered, sipping on the water already on the table.

“No, she’s not.” Julie glared at me. “We’ll take a nice bottle of the house Merlot and two plates of the pasta primavera.”

“Excellent choice.” Our waiter scribbled in his book.

I sank to further depths as Mr. Not Matt lit the candles on the table. “I’m not hungry, Julie.”

“Please, Patricia, for once in your life love who you are.” Julie leaned back in her chair.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I had plenty of confidence. My job allowed me to work when I wanted to, and I could sleep into noon if I wanted to. Getting laid was as easy as strutting out to a night club or reaching for my magic drawer. What the hell was she talking about?

She rubbed her temples. “I’m tired, Patricia. I’m tired of seeing you hurt and not even realizing how much you hold it inside. The collapse of my marriage hurt, but you know what? I’m so over it. Leaving wasn’t me failing. It was me getting self-respect and not being some doormat to a man who didn’t love me for who I was. That’s who Mr. Perfect is, Patricia. The man who accepts you as you are. An ice cream guzzling, wine drunkard—”

“Hey, I can stop drinking after three glasses!” I protested.

“—who breaks wind whenever she feels like it.”

Heat warmed my cheeks. “Hush, Julie. You’re embarrassing me.” I hid my face as a few guests glanced our way.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the bathroom by myself.” Julie stood and crunched her face.

The loudest fart I had ever heard rumbled out of her ass. I was speechless at her brazen behavior.

“That’s right, people. I’m taking a deuce in a ladies public toilet instead of holding it until my insides burst because men don’t think women should play the butt trumpet in public. I am woman! Hear my ass roar!”

I buried my head in my hands, half between hysterically laughing and the flush of embarrassment. My fingers pinched my nose as the inevitable snort chortle tried to work its way through my nasal passage.

“Ma’am, your Pasta Primavera.”

I couldn’t acknowledge the waiter past a wave for him to set the food down. My sides hurt. I hadn’t laughed this hard in a while. When the hiccups escaped, I gave over to the fit of giggles I had attempted to restrain. My eyes watered, and I noted the blurry images of guests leaving the patio. Inside I hoped we hadn’t ruined their experience with our immaturity. Another part of me thought they all should lighten up.

A bulb went off in my head. Julie had shown me that I’d worried too much about being something I wasn’t for personal validation. I wiped away the tears from my eyes and froze.

Matt sat across from me smiling. I grinned.

“Hi, there.”

“Hi, there,” he repeated.

I giggled again. “Sorry.” I cleared my throat, ready to spew out the speech I’d rehearsed in my head on the way over. My jaw worked, but my thoughts jumbled. I felt like a little girl running around a field trying to catch butterflies.

“You look beautiful, Patricia.” Matt swept his gaze along my body. My skin prickled. He held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

“But there’s no music.” Despite my words, my hand laid in his and I stood.

“Are you sure about that?” His devilish grin ignited the fire within me. Without protest, I molded to his body. As he swayed me close I heard the most beautiful sound in the world. His heart pounded in his chest and mine joined the melody. I nuzzled against his shoulder, tempted to kick off my shoes to be at his breast.

“I thought you gave up on me,” I murmured.

“I couldn’t, not after finding out who you were in my life.” He swiped something along my arm.

I blinked and pulled away to gaze in his eyes. My jaw dropped when I noticed the little black card in his hand. Not just any card. The card I had left behind at Black Room. I almost collapsed to the floor as my brain clicked everything into place.

“Tall One?” Just uttering the name brought my senses alive.

His finger trailed down my cheek. “
York
.”

“But we’re not supposed to, I mean….” My body raged from hormone overdrive to utter shock. At Black Room, a customer played with whoever they wished. Except the times I went there, Tall One was always ready and willing just for me. Part of me should have shoved Matt away for breaking the silent code of the club. The other side slowed my adrenaline down to a halt. Did he want only him to possess me, or did he drink in the connection they had like I had?

“Oh fuck it,” I said before I gripped the back of his head and brought him in for a kiss. His body responded in more ways than one. The bulge in his pants was undeniable. His tongue danced with mine in the sensual dance I’d become accustomed to in our Black Room days. When I had entered that dark room, my mind slipped away to that perfect place where we were a couple with a kinky side.

“I never faked it when I was with you, Patricia,” he managed to say between gasps of breath.

I broke away from him, my clothes one hot mess. “Oh no you don’t. This time you have to wine and dine me first.” I marched back over to the table and sat. My fingers tapped along a breadstick. I picked it up and pushed it between my lips. On the other side of the table, Matt groaned as I slid the stick out of my mouth intact.

“A good waiter is so hard to come by, wouldn’t you say?” My foot slipped out of the stiletto, and I rubbed my toes along his crotch.

“Patricia.”

He chided me with his tone, but I wasn’t buying it.
 
In Black Room, I allowed him to run the show. Now it was my turn to have some fun. I licked the end of the breadstick. “Ready for dessert?” The pressure on my toes from his impressive package heightened.

“Get this to go then?” His voice was near hoarse.

“We can eat it when we come back. I assume you drove?” I stopped the foreplay on his pants and slid my shoe back on.

“Yes, but…”

“Oh we’ll do that another time.” I winked at him and crooked a finger. “Let’s go, Matt.” My fingers snapped, and he jumped. I planned a new beginning in my life with Matt. It would start out in the back of a car without my head hitting the door of my partner ignoring my needs. I knew Matt could soar me to new heights. He always did at Black Room.

As his lights flashed, signaling he’d unlocked the car doors, I opened the back and pointed for him to get inside.

“Patricia.”

“Get your fine ass in there and shimmy out of those pants, mister.” My palm slapped hard on the back of his ass. Matt nearly dove in. I must say his desperation to get his trousers off went into high gear. His excitement shone on the tip of his fat mushroom head. I climbed in and shut the door.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. Without the mask his nerves certainly got the best of him. Barring a cop passing by, I could care less if anyone caught us. My greatest joy would be if
Beverly
happened to stroll along and catch me in the act.

I rummaged in my purse and pulled out a magnum condom. My fingers twirled it before stuffing the little package in Matt’s breast pocket.

“For later.”

His jaw dropped, my name on his lips. He hissed it out as I engulfed the tip of his penis. My hand wrapped around the thick base. I knew my limitations and choking down the whole shaft wasn’t happening. Thankfully my cock experience was vast and wide. My tongue technique praised me with moans from Matt. His hand smoothed over my ass and reached the hemline of my skirt. The fabric rode up to my hips.