Waking Up With You (18 page)

I suddenly remember that I don’t have my cell phone with me, and I say so to Jake.

“Don’t worry about it,” he calmly says.

“Shouldn’t I be taking a few photos for the blog?” I question him.

“No, this is a social affair. You don’t need to talk about it. Plus, I’m pretty sure people will be tweeting about it all night anyway.”

We cruise in silence, though, from time to time, his right hand nonchalantly touches mine, or softly caresses my left leg. I’m not sure why he’s doing it, but I don’t comment or react. To be honest, I’m flattered that he’s happy I made an effort.

We arrive at the hotel and there’s a long line of cars. He gives his keys to the valet and he takes my hand to escort me. As we enter the venue, I feel a tight knot in my insides and I grip his arm firmly. He touches my hand and whispers, “I’m right beside you.” We are the cynosure of all eyes, and I cringe at the unwanted attention. He kisses me on the lips for a brief moment, and the unexpectedness of the action temporarily makes me forget the presence of two hundred strangers. I know I’m imagining a collective gasp, but many guests are now actually staring at me openly, no longer trying to hide their curiosity.

My fingers are digging into his arm and he bends down to say softly, “Relax or I may have to do more than kiss you.”

I smile wanly and whisper back, “I dare you.” My sense of humor is back, and I throw down the gauntlet his way because I know I cannot lose. As his hand grazes my exposed waist, I fear I may have bitten off more than I can chew. Fortunately, some of his staff come to greet him, and I slink away to the side of the room, unobserved.

I now have the opportunity to examine the ballroom. The room is bathed in small lights, with exquisite ornaments of green and gold. There are huge spiral cone trees everywhere, with smaller bronze pinecone trees. The tables are draped with white cloth, and the classic white dinner plates are on top of several gold chargers. A miniature Christmas tree sits on top of each plate. Pillar candles in elegant glass displays, all surrounded by gold accents, are interspersed with tiny spire trees along the center of each table.

On the side of the room is a long buffet table laden with over a dozen different kinds of hors d'oeuvres. Guests help themselves to the dips, vegetable trays, spreads, canapés, and edible odds and ends. An open bar is situated to the right, and it looks like many are helping themselves to the drinks before dinner starts.

People are congregating in small to medium groups. There’s always a raconteur who entertains with his amusing anecdotes. Some friends content themselves with the usual trite openers. Women are eyeing one another’s gowns, some jealously clinging to their husbands, fearing the competition. I’m in social media mode, observing quietly on the sidelines.

I scan the room for any sign of Christina. I see one or two good-looking blondes but, to my relief, she isn’t here. Paige was right, as always. I feel oddly disappointed because, if I am ever to cross paths with that woman, tonight would have been good. I’m feeling confident after the way Jake has been acting tonight.
Emma, who are you kidding?
That woman will win every single time, hands down.

“I should be angry with you, you know,” a familiar voice tells me. I turn around to see Matt looking like a model in his penguin suit. I give him a warm hug and he looks slightly uncomfortable.

“It’s good to see you,” I say with a smile. I am happy to see Matt, so his words are lost on me as I excitedly greet him.

“I can say likewise, although I just might find myself getting bruised up,” he looks meaningfully in Jake’s direction.

I give him an apologetic look. “You know?” I ask, knowing what the answer will be.

“Emma, I think it’s safe to say the whole world knows now,” he says ruefully.

“It’s complicated.” I don’t know what else to say.

“I’m sure it is,” he says with a slight smile. Neither of us notice Jake approaching us with a frown.

“Matthew,” Jake says formally.

“Jake,” Matt replies. After a brief look in my direction, he says, “I should go meet up with the admin staff.”

Jake nods and I feel the palpable tension. “Stay a while longer,” I say to Matt, feeling sorry that the poor man has done nothing to deserve my husband’s animosity. Jake gives me a warning look, but I ignore him.

Matt evidently doesn’t want to cause any trouble at the happy gathering, so he gives me a peck on the cheek and says, “Nice seeing you again,” and leaves to join his friends.

“You’re such a bully,” I say to Jake, exasperated at his behavior.

“I can only take so much, Em. It would be wise not to provoke me further,” he says through gritted teeth.

I say nothing, and he takes my hand. “Come, dinner is about to start. Let’s go to our table.” I let him direct me to the table near the podium, though I continue to maintain my silence.

Everyone is now seated, and the waiters start to serve the salad and the soup. A dizzying array of dishes follow. I try to converse with the elderly gentleman on my left, but he’s more inclined to silence. He’s a member of the board for the museum in Orange County. Jake is seated next to his alluring, young wife, and I feel discomfited by the inordinate amount of attention that Jake is giving her. He has her laughing and tossing her hair a lot.
Bastard.

Everyone else at the table is a client of the firm. Thankfully, Dan, Jake’s assistant, is also with us. At first I just listen in on the discussions, but when Dan asks my opinion about one of the projects, I probably sound like a fawning groupie, so a lot of good-natured ribbing follows. The conversation smoothly flows after that, and Dan gives me a wink of approval when no one else is looking.

As dessert is being served, a member of the staff goes to the podium to introduce Jake, and everyone rises to their feet. Some humorous heckling is thrown his way and he responds good-naturedly. “Don’t worry. I’m going to make this short and sweet,” he says with a smile, to which Dan responds with a loud “yeah, right,” making everyone laugh boisterously.

“Merry Christmas, everyone. This year was a banner one for us. I know a lot of you have clocked in way more hours than the previous years. I thank you for the massive effort. I would also like to thank our clients, whose requests have inspired us to push the envelope in terms of architectural boundaries. Lastly, let me introduce you to my beautiful wife, Emma,” he motions for me to stand, and I do so, shocked that he’s acknowledging our marriage so publicly.

“I know how phones have been heating up with all the sly selfies and ‘do-you-know-hers’ being texted around. It was our intention to keep everything private, being that we are both intensely private people. Some of you know that after Elise left, she became responsible for our social media presence. I guess she’s so good at her job that she successfully kept both of us out of the picture and let the firm’s achievements take center stage,” he says while everyone breaks into smiles and laughter again.

“Anyway, let me raise my glass in a toast to Emma, who has been patient with our late nights at work. And, of course, to all the wives and husbands out there who have tolerated our grueling schedules. Enjoy the rest of the evening, everyone!” he finishes.

On the side of the dance floor, the band comes in and sets up. The lights dim and couples stand up on the side of the room, in anticipation of the music.

He puts his arm around me while he drinks his bubbly, and I whisper into his ear “Why?” He quirks a brow at me and mouths, “Because you’re mine.”

I don’t know how to respond to this. Why is he being so possessive? I’m distinctly annoyed with his hypocrisy. If he wants to let everyone know I’m his wife, he should first be my husband, in every sense of the word. So, I say something to get under his skin. “And are you mine?”

His throat moves convulsively, and he says, “Yes,” in a smoky, hypnotic voice. Thoughts race through my head. What about Christina? Did they break up for good or are they just lying low? Is he perhaps just being possessive of me, and wants no one else to be with me? Am I the forbidden fruit he wants to taste before he goes back to his girlfriend?
What is really going on?

My mind is in turmoil, but as the band starts to play, Jake takes my hand and I follow him like I’m in a trance. It’s a slow melody, and Jake guides me to the dance floor. He puts both hands on my lower back and then moves me so close to his body that I can feel his taut muscles. I get a whiff of his male scent, and I draw myself even closer by putting my arms around his neck. My breasts swell as they press against his hard chest. His hands begin to exert a sensuous pressure, molding my rounded curves. Minutes pass, and I am hot, my breathing so shallow. “Jake…” I don’t know why I say his name. I want to say something, but I don’t know what.

Just then, the music turns louder and the band does a cover of one of my favorite rock songs. Jake and I are rooted in place. Slowly, I start dancing to the rhythm, raising my arms in abandon. He stares at me, as if mesmerized, his eyes on my hips swaying to the beat and my breasts bobbing loosely beneath the thin fabric. He joins me, barely moving. Sweat glides down my skin and he is so close that I can feel his warm breath on my face.
Every breath you take
. I turn around so he sees only my back. The heat inside me becomes unbearable.
Every move you make
. As I carry on dancing, my hair becomes undone and I lift it from my neck with my left hand as my right arm continues to wave around.
I’ll be watching you
.

He touches me from behind and softly says, “Let’s get out of here.” At first I don’t understand, and when I finally do, I follow him out through the exit door. I’m unaware of what’s going on. I’m mostly feeling out of it. Anticipation rages through me and I feel drugged, like I’m not in control of my mind or body.

He talks to the clerk at the front desk, but I don’t even hear what he’s saying. He pulls me towards the elevator. He presses a number, pulls me close to his body, cups my chin, and kisses me so deeply. The door opens and he lifts his head abruptly. Apparently, it’s our floor, and he practically drags me through the corridor. He slips the key card into the slot and we go in.

Once inside, as if in some hypnotic state, I take one step toward him. His eyes are upon me and I meet them, willing him to touch me. He still doesn’t move, as if he wants to prolong the experience for as long as possible. So I boldly take his hand and slip it into my low neckline. I hear his swift intake of breath and I close my eyes as he fondles one breast, moving his palm in slow circles. I see him watching me in my aroused state. He pushes down my dress so that I’m naked from the waist up. I feel my body start to shiver from the cold air. He puts his arms around me and his heat suffuses me, but it does nothing to dispel my growing sense of panic. I can feel my pulse throbbing and my nerves kicking in.

“Jake, I’ve never…” He’s still for a very long time, and I look down in embarrassment.
Dammit, Emma. Why did you have to open your mouth?

Slowly, I raise my head and see the perplexed expression on his face.

“Are you saying you’ve never had sex with anyone before?” he asks in a raspy voice. I nod miserably, unable to trust myself to say something that’s not stupid. “All this time, I thought…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks.

I shake my head. I whisper what’s inside my heart. “There is nothing I want more than to be with you.”

Jake grips me hard and pulls me closer. Our lips meet in a tender kiss that quickly turns hard and passionate. His tongue explores my mouth, enticing me to reciprocate. His body crushes mine and I feel his firm muscles. He leaves my lips and bends to suck at one nipple while his hand lightly strokes the other. I moan and his teeth close round the stiffened tip. I drown in this delicious assault. I clasp each side of his head and he looks up with dazed eyes.

His hands search for the opening on my dress, but I stop him. “Let me,” I say. He quickly casts off his jacket and then languidly props himself with his hands on the edge of the bed to watch. My eyes are fixed on his, and I slowly unzip my dress and step out of it. I have nothing on but a light grey silk thong. He audibly groans at the sight of my nakedness. He tells me, “Come closer.”

I nervously approach him, my breasts dangling before his face. He kisses me through the tiny lace fabric, grazing the edge of my thong with his finger. His hand palms me down there and my moistness surprises him. “You are so ready for me,” he mutters, his breathing ragged. He slides his finger inside of me and moves it in and out in an erotic rhythm, again and again. I cry out with an aching need.

“Jake, please,” I beg him. He pulls me into the bed with him. I’m lost in his intoxicating male scent. I take off his shirt impatiently. As he hovers over me, I touch his bare chest and feel his heart pounding. I move my hand to his toned abs and then hesitatingly start to unbuckle his belt. When his pants are open, his hand guides one of mine inside his boxers. I feel the dips and ridges of his hard contours. I feel shy touching him this way, but he urges me as he murmurs, “Don’t stop.“ His hands are all over me and his mouth is everywhere – my lips, my neck, my breasts. My body is crying out for a release of some kind.

He whispers, “I need to be inside you now.” I lie completely still, my body rigid with a combination of excitement and fear. He softly commands, “Spread your legs,” and I do as he says. He thrusts inside me, and I hold on to his muscular arms. He moves slowly, almost tentatively, until my body adjusts to his intrusion. In time, I start to work with him, and the sensations overwhelm me. I squeeze my eyes shut at the unbearable pleasure. “You’re amazingly tight,” he whispers, his voice brimming with lust. Our lips lock as the pace quickens and he pounds on and on in a sensuous rhythm. The most delicious feeling is spreading over me, and I prepare for some kind of completion.

“Open your eyes and let me hear you scream,” he says. My eyes open wide. My legs shake and my stomach tightens. I sink my teeth into his bottom lip and then I scream as I go into spasms. He thrashes on and then explodes inside me so hard and long. He moans my name as he collapses on top of me. I hug him and press kisses onto his neck while he breathes in the scent of my hair. “Lavender,” he whispers, and lies down beside me. He clutches my hand tightly and we lay that way for some time until he drifts off to sleep. I put my hand on his chest and stare at him steadily.
I am yours.