Authors: Jean Haus

The Reality of You (29 page)

It had taken twelve
years and one man for me to see the light. Yeah, sometimes I was slow.

My hands glided into
Reese’s hair as he kissed me fully, the rhythm of his tongue obliterating all
contemplations of the past. When he paused for a breath, I asked, “Can we just
go to your place?”

He grinned. “We should
be there in a few more minutes.”

“Oh, you sly…” My
eyes narrowed. “Ego much?”

“Unfortunately, yes.
Usually my
boxers
are egotistical,
but this time, it was hope.”

Okay, I could live
with that. I grinned back at him. “I’d like to see those.”

He lifted an
eyebrow.

“Your egotistical
panties.”

“Boxers,” he
growled.

“Whatever,” I said,
pulling him by the hair toward me. “I love both you and your ego.”

“Even when it’s
demanding?” he asked against my lips.

I smiled against
his
lips. “Especially when it’s demanding.”

Chapter 33

Reese

A few
months later…

Ten minutes to noon, I shrugged on my suit coat,
grabbed my briefcase, and headed out of the office for a meeting.

“Mr. Tennison rescheduled for today at one thirty,” Laura, my
receptionist, reminded me as I passed the front desk.

I nodded. “I should be back before one. Just meeting with the Cooper
account for an update at lunch.”

After stuffing myself inside the packed elevator, I took the escalator
down to the main floor and, as usual, glanced at the empty bench amid the lobby
foliage. Naomi’s sitting there, quiet and pensive and shy, would be etched in
my mind forever. Usually the empty bench just brought on a feeling of
nostalgia, but today, it brought on a touch of frustration.

Soccer had started. Naomi was in the midst of tryouts. She was busy.
More busy than I was. Between our two conflicting schedules, I hadn’t seen her
since Saturday and wouldn’t see her until Friday. When the season officially
started, I would see her even less.

She was living her dream. I wanted her to live her dream. I was
ecstatic for her. I could deal with it. I might be hard all the time like a
fucking teenager, but I
would
deal with it.

Frank, the daytime security guard, nodded in greeting as I passed the
main reception desk.

Outside, the humidity of the coming storm hit me like the exhaust of an
airplane in my face, but Paul waited up the block in the limo. Already
sweating, I pushed through the congested sidewalk traffic. Damn, it was hot. I
opened the door and all thoughts of humidity left me. Really, all thoughts but
a hot, scorching lust left me.

Naomi sat in the back seat, wearing…high-waisted shorts and a
red-dotted halter top along with a red flower headband thing in her hair and
red high heels. ‘50s fucking pinup girl in my car. ‘50s fucking pinup
Naomi
in my car.

I almost dropped my briefcase but instead plucked my phone from my
pocket while Naomi lowered her chin and stared up at me through her lashes.

Laura answered with a chipper, “Good afternoon, J & M Advertising.”

“Cancel my lunch appointment and my one thirty.” There was a shocked
silence. I never canceled anything. “I should be in by…” I looked at the woman
sitting in the back of my limo brushing a naughty hand over the swell of her
breasts while those lovely brown eyes of hers gleamed. My cock swelled to
granite.

Naomi titled her head in contemplation then held up three fingers.

“Three,” I said in a steely tone.

“Um…okay,” Laura said slowly. “Are you—”

I slid my screen closed and slipped into the back of the limo. The
heavy humidity lingered in the cool exterior for a moment as Paul pulled into
traffic.

“Coming thunderstorms cancel practice?” I asked while loosening my tie.

“You’re supposed to say, ‘Lunch just became very interesting.’
” Her red lips
formed a pout as she lifted a red high heel and braced it against the door,
essentially spreading those sleek, muscled legs.

My hands paused on my tie as I took in the sight of her again. The
brown curls on the lush swell of her breasts. The smooth and tan line of her
stomach. Those luscious legs spread wide, inviting me between them.

Her lips held their pout as I simply looked.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Apparently, we were living out one of her previous fantasies from when
she’d watched me from her bench, but the outfit, the days since I’d last had
her, the surprise of her in my limo, those fucking legs, and just
her
put me in overdrive.

“Fuck lunch,” I said, letting go of my tie and yanking her over my lap.
Before she even settled, I slipped a hand under her shorts to cup a naked butt
cheek.

She steadied herself with her hands on my shoulders. “Your hunger for
nourishment has vanished?” she asked a little breathlessly as my fingers
gripped her skin.

“Fuck lunch,” I repeated while my other hand followed the swell of her
breasts, copying her earlier movement. The sensation of her skin under both of
my palms was
my
fantasy. I’d been recalling the feel of her just before
leaving my office.

Raindrops began tinging on the roof.

“Well then, I hope I’m lunch,” she said from those red-painted lips
that hovered above me.

I trailed my fingers down her half shirt, across her belly, lightly
over the center of her, and pushed my hand up her shorts. She was as wet as I
had hoped.

“And dessert.”

She gasped as I stroked her wetness. “So I’m a fetching surprise?”

“Very surprising, very fetching.” I stroked some more. “But time for me
to surprise,” I said roughly, lowering the hand on her ass until I slipped a
finger in her wetness from behind.

A flash of lightning lit up her stunned expression.

“Ooooh,” she gasped as her eyes went wide and glazed from the movement
of both my hands. She gripped my shoulders, rocked to the tempo I set, moaned
sexily from those red lips, and then came all over my hands within minutes.

Best fucking lunch ever.

As her eyes began to deglaze, I tore the shorts from her with one hand
as I yanked open my pants with the other. Then, grasping her hips, I nearly
slammed her onto me as I covered her mouth with mine.

She let out another gasp into me and gripped my shoulders even harder
than before.

It was fast and wild, both of us obviously having missed the other. Me,
straining up into her, my hips coming far off the seat, my face buried into the
swell of her breasts. Her, pounding down on me, her hands ripping at my hair.
The car moving through lunch traffic. Pedestrians running to escape the storm,
oblivious to the wild sex storm going on in the car.

But it wasn’t just about intense sex. The connection between us had
started with lust but had grown. She’d become my footpath, my sanctuary, and my
future. Being with her physically intensified these truths and took the act to
another level. I’d never grow tired of this. Never grow tired of her. The day
she’d found me while sitting on that bench had become my future.

After, she lay across me, fingers stroking my neck.

“So it’s still all about my
body?” I asked.

“Your body,” she said, pushing up. “Your lips.” She kissed me lightly
then pulled back. “Your eyes
—
you have the sexist eyes.” My brows rose.
She smirked and lay back down against my chest. “Even that business brain of
yours.” Her hand came up to the middle of my chest. “But mostly just you. I
love you even more than your body, and trust me
—
that is a lot.”

I grinned against her temple. With all the money and resources behind
my name, I had believed that I’d never find someone I’d connect with and who
wanted just
me
much less someone I could fall in love with. When I’d
watched her looking wistful and dreamy eyed, sitting on that bench, I’d begun
to imagine the possibilities, some included her here with me in the back of the
limo, while some of them aspired to something deeper, but never like this. I
hadn’t imagined that being with someone, loving someone so intensely, could
enrich my life, my future, and even me.
She
made me want to play the piano again. She made me believe in the loving
memories of my parents. She made me realize that love was real.
She
made
me rich.

My arms tightened around her. “You know, if we’re going to play out
your fantasies, you might want to give me a script ahead of time.”

A soft laugh escaped her as she shook her head. “Naw, no script. The
reality of you is so much better than anything I’ve ever imagined.”

My lips brushed the top of her head. “The reality of
us
is
better than we either imagined.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First, I’d like to thank my awesome beta readers, Lisa,
Melissa, and Lara. Your input was invaluable. I’d also like to thank Mickey Reed
for her wonderful edits. Also, thank you to all the wonderful bloggers for all
the hard work you do. And as always thanks to every reader who gave my work a
chance. You rock!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jean Haus is the author
of the Luminescent Juliet series, which revolves around a sexy, talented indie
band from a small college town. She also writes romance for adults and young
adults. She lives with her husband and son in Michigan, where she spends almost
as much time teaching, cooking, and golfing as she does thinking about the
romance in her books.

Visit Jean online at

Facebook

Webpage

Other Novels by Jean Haus

New Adult Contemporary from
Skyscape

In the
Band

Ink My
Heart

With
the Band

Young Adult Paranormal/Fantasy

Under a
Blood Moon

After
Midnight

Snow,
Blood, and Envy