“So, what do you think?” she asked.
I added the prices of the couch, ottoman and love seat. “About what?”
“Furniture shopping. Did you think six months ago that you’d be doing this?”
“No. I was pretty sure I’d be single forever.”
“When the right person comes along, though.” She stood. “There’s not much you can do to argue with it.”
I shook my head. “You’re not the right person.”
“I’m not?”
“No,” I said. “You’re the only person.”
Chloe’s irregular steps in her oversized heels did little to disguise her approach. “So, have you two lovebirds made a decision?”
I looked at Terra. “Do you want it?”
She nodded eagerly. “I really like it.”
“We’ll take the ottoman, love seat and couch. In this color.”
“Really?” they asked in unison.
“Really,” I said. “But there’s a catch.”
“What’s the catch?” Chloe asked.
“I want it delivered by the weekend.”
“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” she said. “We have trucks that deliver seven days a week.”
I grinned and nodded. “We’re going to look around a little more.”
“Take your time. And just let me know if you have any questions.”
As she turned away, I glanced at Terra. She was smiling from ear to ear.
“What are you so happy about?” I asked.
“You’re actually going to buy it?”
“You said you liked it.”
“I love it.”
“I want my house to be a place where you want to be. A place where you’re comfortable.”
“I am comfortable there.”
“You said it looked clinical.”
“Everything’s white. It does look clinical. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there.”
“I just. I want you to be happy. Happy with everything. I’m tired of us going back and forth and spending time at both places and eventually spending nights apart. I just. I want my place to be comfortable for you.”
“Are you thinking. Do you mean you think we should...are you...” she stammered.
“I’m thinking you need to start thinking about whether or not you want to live with me.”
There, I said it.
“Oh, wow. Yes, I uhhm. I’d love to start thinking about that.”
“Well, get busy thinking about it,” I said with a laugh. “And let me know what you come up with.”
“I’m done,” she said.
“Done what?”
“Thinking.”
“And?”
She walked toward me with her arms outstretched. “Let’s do it.”
“Go pick out some bedroom furniture,” I said.
“Are you serious?”
I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight to my chest. “Anything you want.”
“Really?”
“Really.” I buried my face in her hair and inhaled a deep breath.
Lilacs, jasmine and sunshine.
The aroma reminded me of our little escapade in the Saks dressing room. “You better get busy looking,” I said. “Or I’m going to end up bending you over this couch.”
She pulled away and glanced over each shoulder. “You can’t do that in here.”
“Probably not a good idea, but I just got a whiff of your hair and it reminded me of Saks.”
“Every time I hear that word it makes me wet.”
“What word?”
“Saks,” she said.
I chuckled. “Saks, Saks, Saks, Saks.”
“You’re going to get it when we get back to your place.” She held my hand in hers and started walking toward the bedroom furniture. “Why’d you want the furniture delivered by this weekend?”
“Thought it’d look nice when Cap and Michelle came over.”
She stopped and turned to face me. “He said yes?”
“He did.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. This is so exciting. Can we buy some candles?”
I stared back at her. “Candles?”
“You don’t have any candles. Like none. In the whole house.”
My stare continued. “I didn’t know I needed any.”
“Well, you do. You need a few Jo Malone Wild Fig and Cassis candles. If you’re going to have a girl in your house full-time, actually there’s a lot of things we’re going to need to get.”
I wanted a life with her, and I was willing to do almost anything to get it. But candles?
“Alright,” I said. “We’ll get the Jo Malone candles. But it’s going to cost you.”
“What?” she asked.
“You’ll see,” I said with a grin.
Chapter Thirty-One
Terra
I was excited for our little get-together. Cap was dressed in dark wash jeans, a black button-down shirt, and dress boots. He looked more than different, he looked good. Michael was dressed similarly, and I had on my little black dress.
All we were missing was Michelle.
Cap was pacing the floor of the kitchen. “I’m as nervous as a whore in church.”
“Don’t be,” Michael said. “It’s just a girl. We’re just going to hang out and have a few drinks.”
“Maybe we’ll watch a movie on Netflix or something. Just relax,” I said.
Cap stopped pacing and glared at me. “Netflix and chill for me means another episode of New Girl and an ice-cold beer. I ain’t used to this shit.”
I grinned. “Just be yourself. And you look nice.”
“When’s she gonna get here?” he asked.
“I said seven, and it’s past seven, so any minute.”
“And this chick’s cool, right? I mean I can just act like me?”
“She’s really cool. You’ll see. After we get a few drinks in her, she’ll loosen up.”
“So we gotta get her drunk to enjoy her company?”
I laughed. “No. But she’ll open up after she has a few drinks.”
Michael walked through the living room and nervously adjusted everything from the pictures on the wall to the plants I had purchased and carefully placed throughout the room.
The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” I said.
I opened the door. Michelle was dressed in jeans, heels and a sheer black button-down with an extremely low neck. Her rather large boobs were bubbling out of the top of her partially exposed bra.
“You look like a hooker,” I whispered.
She grinned and hugged me. “A really sexy hooker. Oh my God. Is that him?” she whispered.
“Black shirt. Yeah.”
“Quit cock blocking me.” She chuckled, pushing me to the side. “Move.”
By the time I closed the front door and walked into the kitchen, she had introduced herself to Michael and Cap, and Cap was pouring her a glass of wine. Michael and Michelle stood on one side of the kitchen island, which was also a bar, and Cap stood on the other. I walked to Cap’s side and picked up my wine.
Michelle reached for her glass. “So, you used to be a marine?”
“I did. Ten years of getting shot at was enough, so I got out.”
“What do you do now?”
“Security advisor. I train people in the use of weapons, and tactics. Boring stuff. You?”
Michelle took a sip of wine and leaned forward, pressing the bottom of her boobs onto the countertop, and forcing the tops out of her bra. “I’m a trust-fund baby, just like Terra.”
I glanced at Michael. I couldn’t tell if he caug
ht it.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I glared at her, trying to get her to see me without Michael doing so. Her eyes were glued to Cap. Eventually, I gave up.
I fucking swear. Michelle, if you fuck this up...
“Trust-fund baby, huh?” Cap nodded toward Michelle and raised his beer bottle. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”
Stand up. Your tits are falling out, and you look like a slut.
I cleared my throat. Twice. Michael exchanged glances between Cap and me. I was sweating bullets, and wondered if Michael could tell. I tossed my head toward the living room. “Should we go sit down?”
“I’m fine right here,” Michelle said. “Unless everyone else wants to.”
“You ever seen New Girl?” Cap asked.
“Oh my God,” Michelle gasped. “Best. Show. Ever.”
“Isn’t that the fuckin’ truth. Just finished season three. Schmidt is the funniest fucker I ever seen.”
Michelle chuckled and finally stood up straight. The neck of her see-through blouse hung well below the top of her bra. I fought against the urge to walk around the bar and adjust it.
“They’re all funny,” she said with a laugh. “That’s the best show. I swear. I love it.”
“What’s your favorite episode?” Cap asked.
In the middle of a drink, Michelle lowered her wineglass. “The one when Winston and Schmidt went to buy crack. What about you?”
“The one where they all talked about losin’ their virginity.”
“I laughed so hard,” Michelle said. “Schmidt is such an idiot.”
Tempted for a moment to go into the living room with Michael and leave them in the kitchen talking about New Girl, I decided to drink my wine and enjoy their conversation instead. The evening was more about them than it was about us, anyway. I just hoped she didn’t make any more mistakes.
We stood at the bar for some time, talking and laughing, and for the first time since Michael and I had been together, I felt completely normal about our relationship. My lack of exposure to any and everyone I knew while in Michael’s presence acted as a constant reminder that my family and friends were unaware of how happy I was, and how much I simply adored Michael.
Sharing time with Cap and Michelle made me feel like my relationship wasn’t such a secret, and I liked how I was beginning to feel. My mind soon faded away from the conversation and to my father.
I tried desperately to convince myself he would find a way to accept Michael. I eventually decided that if Michelle was in a relationship with Cap, and I was in one with Michael, that it would be much easier to tell my father. He and Michelle’s father could discuss their concerns with each other, find a way to accept what we had done, and life would continue without anyone being killed, me included.
I glanced at my watch.
It was almost eight o’clock.
“So how tall are you?” Michelle asked.
“Six-three,” Cap responded.
She straightened her posture and thrust her chest forward. “I’m five-three.”
Cap took a drink of his beer and grinned. “Perfect size.”
Michelle’s eyes went wide. “For what?”
Oh Lord.
“For anything. Pickin’ up. Tossin’ around. You know.”
I glared at Michael and quickly shifted my eyes to Cap. “Tossing around?”
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Durin’ sex.”
Well, that didn’t take long.
“Do you really think you could pick me up? Like up off the floor?” Michelle asked.
Oh Lord. Really?
“Know I could. Hell, I bench-press two-hundred-sixty pounds forty-five times three days a week. I don’t think pickin’ you up will be a problem.”
She pushed her wine to the side and walked around the end of the bar. “Do it.”
Michael glanced at me, shook his head, and shrugged. He didn’t seem to be concerned about the earlier trust-fund comment, and I convinced myself he didn’t catch it. He hadn’t said two words all night, but with Cap and Michelle ogling each other and talking a hundred miles an hour, it was tough to even get a single word in on their conversation.
Cap slipped his hands into Michelle’s armpits, picked her up until her head almost hit the ceiling, and lowered her to the floor.
Holy crap.
“So what about the tossing around stuff?” Michelle chuckled. “Tell me about that.”
I shot her my best laser-sharp glare. “Michelle!”
She glanced over her shoulder, returning her own shitty stare. “What?”
Cap glanced at me and shrugged. “Ain’t much sense in beatin’ around the bush.” His eyes shifted to Michelle. “I been known to like it a little on the rough side.”
Michael coughed out a laugh. I glanced at Michael and shook my head.
“Sounds to me like we have two things in common,” Michelle said.
Cap folded his arms in front of his chest. “Oh we do?”
Michelle nodded. “Watching New Girl and rough sex.”
“You like it rough do ya?”
“The rougher the better,” Michelle said.
Oh. My. God.
It was not at all how I expected my perfectly planned Friday night to go. With the new furniture, decorations, pictures and random foliage I had arranged throughout the house, I had visions of a nice quiet night of eating, drinking and talking. In less than an hour, the one-sided conversation hadn’t included Michael and me, and the subject was now rough sex.
I walked around the bar and to Michael’s side. “What the fuck?” I whispered.
“Looks like a match made in heaven,” he responded.
I nodded toward them. Standing at the end of the bar giggling and staring at Cap, Michelle looked like an awestruck teenager. “Look at them,” I said with disgust.
Michael seemed genuinely okay with how they were acting. He chuckled. “They’re fine.”
“It’s embarrassing. Her boobs are falling out.”
“Cap seems to like it.”
Cap may have, but I didn’t. “I can’t believe she wore that top. She looks like a hooker. I wanted her to talk to you. I thought we’d like eat, and have a few drinks, and sit around on the new furniture and talk.”
“Looks like she had something else in mind. He’s not putting up much of an argument, though.”
“I’m sorry.” I kissed him lightly on the lips. “I love you.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. They’re having fun. We’ll eat and talk later.”
“Well, Brother Tripp. Sounds like we’re going to head over to my place,” Cap said.
What?
I shot Michelle another glare. “What?”
Michelle grinned. “We’re going to go watch New Girl and hang out.”
I waved toward the newly decorated living room. “You can watch New Girl here. And we can all hang out.”
“We’ll all hang out some other time,” she said.
A matter of minutes later, and they were gone. I sat on the new couch staring at the blank screen of the new sixty-inch LED television Michael purchased. “Now what?” I huffed.
Michael shrugged. “We could try that New Girl show.”
“I’m fine with that.”
By Monday morning, we had watched the entire first season of the show, only getting off of our new couch when completely necessary. Over the course of the weekend, I appreciated how Michael had changed since we met without becoming someone else.
We laughed until we cried while we watched the show, eating the finger foods and snacks I bought for the party. We drank wine, ate peanut butter out of a jar, and he held me in his arms until we fell asleep. At one point we decided to shower, and although w
e did it together, we were both far too excited to return to the show to initiate sex.
Having sex with Michael was magical, but I loved that we didn’t have to have sex to enjoy each other’s company. Our relationship was blossoming into so much more than sex, and on that weekend, I realized how easy it was to get lost in who Michael really was.
A former marine badass turned gun runner who wouldn’t hesitate to fight for the person or situation he felt was deserving.
And official couch potato.
He was mine, and I couldn’t wait until I could tell the world.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Michael
Terra stood in the kitchen facing the living room. With my chest against her back, I pressed my hands against her waist and rested my chin on her left shoulder. “I love you,” I whispered. “Are you about ready to go ride this thing?”
She tilted her head to the side, resting her cheek against mine. “I love you, too. I’ve been ready, but I think it’s just a lie. We’re never really going to leave.”
I released her hip with my right hand and traced the tip of my index finger along the zippered seam in the back of her dress. It seemed I’d just zipped it up.
The warm breath of her sigh prompted me to continue.
I pulled the tab of the zipper down slowly. Her dress parted in the center, exposing her back as the two pieces of material fell to each side. I released her hip with my left hand and unclasped her bra with the tips of my thumbs. Eagerly, I reached inside the front of her dress and squeezed her breasts until she began to moan against my cheek.
I pressed my mouth to her neck, kissing her softly while continuing to knead her soft flesh. With each squeeze of my hands, her breath escaped her lungs in a sudden burst as if forced by my touch.
My cock began to fight for freedom.
While kissing along the side of her neck as if it were the only portion of her body deserving of the sensual touch of my lips, I pulled my hands from beneath her bra and reached inside her panties.
I pressed my right palm flat against her stomach, and slowly slid it past the waist of her panties, stopping as the tip of my middle finger slid into her wetness.
“Oh God,” she cooed.
Touching her had become easy, and I found it to be very rewarding. The softness of her skin, the smooth contour of her body, and the effect my touch seemed to have on her prompted me to continue—often well beyond what I had planned.