Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

I had a thought. “Turn your fan on. The clothes you got me are going to smell like burned oil.” The boxes were fifteen feet away but I could already see the smoke was rising and circling around his ceiling.

“Shit.” That lit a fire under his butt. He turned the fan on and quickly walked over to his living room windows. “These only open about six inches for safety reasons but it should help.”

I looked around for a blanket. I felt like I needed to save the clothes. Cover them from stinky smoke. I didn’t see anything I could use to save the Chanel. “If I had a window, which I don’t, there would be no safety restrictions. My roommates’ windows lift like four feet and Javier’s has a fire escape he uses

to climb out onto and smoke weed.”

“Javier? Your roommate is a guy?” Grant was waving his arms like somehow he could draw the smoke to the windows.

“Yes.” I took the wok by the handle and dumped the still smoking vegetables into the stainless steel can in the corner of the kitchen. It had a foot pedal and the lid slammed shut tightly, sealing it off. “I think we’re clear.” The smoke seemed to be dissipating.

“Does your roommate have a girlfriend? Boyfriend?” he asked, clearly fishing for information.

“No.” I wasn’t going to give him any further information than that. Javier and I were strictly platonic friends and if he specifically wanted to know that, he could just ask. Though it did give me a warm sensation in inappropriate places that he looked put out by potential competition. “I guess we need to order food. Have I mentioned I’m starving?”

“This is the third time so I guess I need to take you seriously. What kind of food do you want?”

“Somewhere we can get guacamole. I’m even more passionate about guac than I am peppers.” I dropped the wok in Grant’s sink and tried to figure out how to turn the faucet on. I didn’t see any handles or knobs. “Um, how does this work?”

“Wave your hands under it or tap the side.”

I did and water hit the wok. It made me feel like I was in a public restroom but I suppose it was more sanitary than faucets. “Order food and I’ll start packing while we’re waiting.”

“That’s a good plan.” Grant was on his phone, scrolling.

I washed my hands so they would be clean for the very expensive clothes and went into the living room. I set a suitcase on its side and opened it. Not surprisingly, it was the highest quality suitcase I’d ever seen. I opened several boxes inside bags and various garments were wrapped in tissue. Some were items I didn’t even recognize, like a pair of jeans and a chunky sweater. I found delicate earrings and statement necklaces. One necklace was so elaborate and gorgeous, an emerald and gold piece of artwork that I had to try it on. I clasped it around my neck and found a mirror above a console table by the entryway.

The purity of its beauty was being lost in the dingy gray of my sweatshirt. So I took it off and checked it out again. “This necklace is so beautiful, Grant. Did you pick it out?” I turned a little, admiring the shimmer.

“What necklace?” Grant said, coming up behind me and running his hands down my arms. “All I see is an almost naked you.”

And he said he wasn’t romantic.

I lifted my gaze from the stunning necklace to watch Grant as he eased his large hands over my sides, and onto my breasts. He wasn’t looking at me in the mirror. He was staring down at my shoulders before he dropped his head and kissed my bare skin. It gave me goose bumps. It felt like more than he intended. It felt real. It felt seductive. It felt beyond sex.

It both made me shiver in delight and want to run. I couldn’t do this. I could not be the idiot who fell for the man who insisted he didn’t do relationships. I couldn’t have predicted how the last guy I’d dated had turned out (hello, can’t hold his liquor), but Grant was predictable. Javier had said as much. He ran through women at a high percentage rate.

The necklace sparkled and reflected back at me as Grant teased at my nipples and I looked exactly like what I was—a woman falling for a man who was all wrong for her.

I should run like a serial killer with a raised ax was chasing me.

I didn’t, obviously.

Nope. Not even so much as a step away from him. I just closed my eyes and let myself get swept away in the moment.

That’s how I needed to treat being with Grant. I had to just enjoy each moment in and of itself and not worry about what it was, or really, what it wasn’t.

He was coaxing me to a slow easy orgasm, his hand inside my panties, when a loud squawk made me jump. “What the hell?”

Grant stepped back and gave a casual shrug, like he hadn’t just abandoned me three seconds from satisfaction. “I think that’s the front door buzzer for our dinner. You’re starving, remember?”

“That was ridiculously efficient,” I complained.

“I’ll leave a bad review.” Grant opened his door just a sliver so he could squeeze through without anyone seeing me. “Be right back.”

With a sigh I dragged my sweatshirt back on over my head and removed the necklace. I knew myself well enough to know I just might drop guacamole on my chest at some point. It probably wasn’t easy to get mashed avocado out of intricate jewelry.

When Grant came back into the apartment, I took the bag from him. “I need to eat my feelings.”