The Winemaker's Dinner: Dessert (The Winemaker's Feast) (24 page)

He marveled at how familiar she seemed—her body, her movements. She hadn’t changed since the night they’d parted ways so bitterly. His recollection of that night—elevator doors closing in front of a face he’d so adored and stripping him of his very identity—had for years played on a loop in his mind during tough times. But now that same face looked at him seductively as she moved closer and closer to him with a swagger that drove him insane. She could still seduce him with a bat of her eyelashes or a flick of her pinky finger.

When she settled in front of him, though he was still frozen near the front door, she slipped her hands over his chest, across his shoulders, and around his neck leaving him paralyzed with the realization that this was real, and it was relevant. As each note lifted and each beat drifted, Irena’s hips began to sway, tantalizing and tempting him to make his past his present and take her in a way only he knew how.

Back and forth their bodies rocked as they stared into each other’s eyes.
What is this?
They floated across the floor, lost in a romance that had been packed away and put on ice for years.
Is this right?
He asked himself, his conscience, his heart, and his soul, but none of them had an answer. Apparently even the freak had gone deaf, dumb, and blind.

As the verse in the song approached that defined their once-passionate love, Irena’s eyes searched his, asking for acceptance, a welcome back into a life she had forfeited. Crumbling under the idea of a destiny that had gone unfulfilled, he closed his eyes and gave in to her gentle pull. He dropped his chin and tentatively kissed her. But careful and cautious quickly turned to greedy as she parted his lips to indulge in a bit of forbidden fruit. In that moment he needed to taste her mouth and verify it was as sweet as he remembered. Yes, her taste was still a mystical addiction.

Yet
what if
still stood before him—even as her arms wrapped around his neck and her lips pressed against his. The questions ate away at him in a torrent of
is this right?
and
what the fuck?

Though his heart remained concerned with protecting himself—again—his hand floated down across the small of her back and came to rest on the curve of her ass. His fingers dug in, forcing her pelvis into his growing excitement. She exhaled against him and grabbed the back of his hair, ripping his head back in a lustful fury.

He forced his head forward again, against the painful pulling, to look her in the eyes, in the soul, and establish that he was the dominant one, not her. She’d played her games long enough. He felt her acquiesce, and he relished the feeling of control. He did not like when it was absent.

“God, I’ve missed this,” she gasped as her hands released his hair and cupped his jaw.

His heart rate quickened, and his mind relinquished the last barrier that stood between them and a night of carnal remembrance. Placing one foot behind the other, he began to back into the bedroom and toward a decision he felt he was ready for.

Their lips left little space between them as their passion mounted. The bedroom was dark and cold, but the heat between the once-again lovers generated a fire. Standing before the bed, he grasped her face and in the hallway light was captivated one last time by the shimmer in her clear, aquamarine eyes. Crushing his lips to hers, he teased her with his tongue, savoring everything familiar and sweet about this woman he’d once known better than he’d known himself.

Irena returned his passion, grasping his shoulders and forcing him down onto the bed. She stepped back for a moment to free her body from her blue dress, and he marveled at the way her nipples stood taut in the dim, shadowy light.

Wearing only a thong, she crawled on top of him, covering him with her body and blanketing him with her presence. His dick pleaded for redemption, but his heart reminded him of his father’s words.
What’s the one thing you can’t find in anyone else?

Irena raised her arms and loosened the pins that secured her hair, letting it all fall around her face in a glorious tangle of sexuality and vigor. She leaned forward, resting her hands on his chest and pressing him further into the abyss.

Ivan just lay there, looking up at the girl who’d introduced him to love, as well as the definition of heartbreak. She was draped over him in nothing but a thong. The girl he’d come within a hair’s breadth of asking to be his one and only.
Just six months ago Jaden was The One…You were sure of it.

Every sensation within him said yes except for one.

Chapter 31

“Chasing Cars”

H
E
S
TARED
A
T
T
HE
C
EILING
F
OR
A
NOTHER
M
OMENT
before he knew he’d fucked up.

Everything was there: her looks, taste, feel, and even the idea of her, but he was missing what he needed to be complete: the scent of passion, of long nights lost in a lover’s gaze only to be followed by a morning of losing his breath, of drowning in the sensation and smell of his true love’s neck as he held her tight and knew who he was.

Irena had everything going for her, except that. That perfume of brilliance and sustainability was what he needed, and it wasn’t here. The only person who did have it, he’d tossed aside on a blind tear, a self-pitying scorched-earth policy that let him hide behind betrayal, but, as the ultimate punch to the gut, may have cost him eternal happiness. He needed that scent, that embrace, and he couldn’t live or love without it. And he was going to reclaim it.
Now.

He sat up, forcing Irena up along with him, though she remained wrapped around him. Pulling her lips from his neck, he looked into her eyes, finally confident that the decision he was about to make was the right one.

“Irena, you will always be a part of me, but this isn’t working.”

“Really?” She pressed herself against his firm cock. “I think it’s working just fine.”

“It’s not you, Irena. Please understand that.”

“It’s her…” Her voice was soft, but not at all surprised.

He looked at her for the first time in his entire life as a friend and nodded.

“Then run to her. She’s a lucky girl.”

Ivan blinked back at her, shocked by her selfless response. She released him and slipped off his lap.

“Don’t get lost in the details, Ivan. You always get lost in planning your life, instead of living your life.”

“What did you say?”

“Don’t plan to love, Ivan. Go do it. Live! Doesn’t matter if it’s what you expected or the way you had it all worked out.” She suddenly seemed like a gloriously wise, beautiful—albeit nearly naked—oracle. “You plan too much. You’re so careful.”

Ivan held her face and studied her one last time. He was thankful she’d been the one to shape his heart and was now the one to reveal the missing piece that would make him whole again. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “I don’t know how to tell you how thankful I am for you. Thank you so much, Irena.”

He shot out of the bed, grabbed his clothes, and then remembered to ask, “Will you be okay getting home?”

“Of course,” she assured him, making a “run along” motion with her hands.

So he did. He ran toward the girl who had that one thing no one else had. Out the door he went—his dick still rock hard from a night of close encounters—down the stairs, and out the lobby doors.

Moments later he crested the adjacent lobby entrance, but didn’t waste time signing documents or checking in. However, when he bolted past the half-asleep security guard, he forfeited the luxury of an elevator and instead ran up the twelve floors, but he hardly noticed. His heart was driving a body that was fueled by a dream. Adrenaline was just a word. Passion was his fuel.

Bursting through the stairwell door, he finally came face to face with 1218. The last time he’d stood here he’d been a coward, too proud to understand his role in the devastation—too busy working his plan and following his rules to see how wrong he’d been. This time he was here to throw himself at the feet of the woman who held his heart and his happiness, who soothed his soul and made his spirit dance. He would beg for forgiveness.

Inhaling deeply then blowing it all out in one cleansing breath, he swallowed his pride and hesitation and knocked with everything he had.

Boom. Boom. Boom.
The two o’clock in the morning barrage most likely woke half of the residents on the floor, but he didn’t care. He had one thing on his mind. To make them right. He listened until he could hear her shuffling to the door.

“Ivan, what do you need?”

Fear jolted him as he realized she wouldn’t even open the door, but he would plead his case. He pressed his hands flat against the metal and leaned his cheek against the cold barrier that kept him from her. “Jaden, I need to talk you.”

“It’s late. Can we talk some other time? I’m changed and ready for bed.”

Dropping his head, he willed himself not to panic, not to lose it. He closed his eyes, pressed his forehead against the door, and offered a deal. “If I can guess what you’re wearing will you open the door?”

She sighed, but after a moment she agreed.

“Hair in a ponytail, no makeup, mismatched socks, some sort of ridiculous T-shirt with an anime cat or some god-awful pattern on it, and a pair of black yoga pants you only threw on to cover up the thong you were sleeping in.”

Another extended pause finally ended with the sound of a bolt unlocking and the doorknob turning. He had guessed correctly. The door creaked open and a goddess with a messy ponytail appeared. She was perfection. Sure enough she wore one blue and one yellow sock, black pants, and a bad green T-shirt that hung two sizes too big on her small frame. He also noticed that her eyes were puffy and her skin blotchy and red. Either she’d gone two rounds with Evander Holyfield, or she’d been crying.

Clearly trying to hide her appearance, she reached up and pulled out her hair tie, freeing all that gorgeous dark hair to fall around her face and shoulders. She avoided eye contact, which nearly brought him to his knees. His breath hitched at the thought of being turned away and never again calling her his one and only.

“Baby girl,” he breathed.

She looked up, but what he saw in her face and in her green eyes leveled him. He dropped his head reverently and spoke from his heart.

“I’m so sorry. Sorry for what happened to us. It wasn’t your fault, it was mine.” He watched as she readjusted her feet. “I did this.”

“Ivan, I—”

“We didn’t need a storybook engagement,” he continued. “I just thought we did. We didn’t need an Italian serenade. I just thought we did. I couldn’t have been more wrong. What we needed was just each other, and I couldn’t see that. My being gone, my being busy, all the focus on my business, no matter how well-intended it may have been…I thought I was building a life for us, but that was
me
pulling the trigger on what we could have been. Not you.”

He dared raise his head to look at her for a moment, still scared he might have lost his miracle forever. She remained standing there, so he kept going.

“And I’m sorry for letting you shoulder the weight of a tragedy I created. I’m sorry I shut you out instead of listening. I’m sorry I was so afraid. But I know now that you are the reason God put me on this earth. You’re the drive behind my next breath and the force between each beat of my heart. You make me smile in a way that defies anatomy. The touch of your skin, the taste of you on my lips, the way you look at me and I can see the man I want to be reflected in your eyes—Jesus, Jaden, even your smell overwhelms me. But more important than any of that, you loved me more than I could understand, without reservation and despite the flaws I was too blind to see, and that’s what excites me the most about you. Love without reason is true love, and that’s what we have.”

He met her eyes as he made his final plea. “I’ll go wherever, do whatever, and be whoever you need to remind you how we once were and where we were going. I’m terrified to think of a life where I don’t wake up next to you, more in love in the morning than when we went to sleep the night before. I caused this, and I want to fix it. I need to fix it. I am sorry.”

He watched as life returned to the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. It was her again, not just a woman standing before him. She seemed confused and looking for the right words, but finally she just smiled, and her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry too,” she said.

He nodded and cursed quietly as his own vision blurred. He felt a single tear slip down his cheek. Then the magnetic force of the passion in the moment drew him into her arms and their bodies crushed together, their hearts beating frantically against each other’s chests. That
one thing
engulfed him as he buried his face in her neck and breathed her in as if it were the first time.