Only One Touch (Only One 4)

“So you guys are going to what, pretend you haven’t done the nasty with each other every single time?” She takes a sip of her coffee. “It’s going to be awkward.”

“It’s only awkward if you make it that way. We are two consenting adults who spent the weekend together. No one needs to know anything more than that.”

“It’s going to get messy,” she says. “Then what?”

I shrug, not ready to face all those questions, because I’m scared of what the answers are going to be. “How is Laurene?”

“She’s good,” she says. “She really needs to speak to you.”

I look over at her with the way her tone was. “Is she okay?” I ask, and she gets off the stool.

“That is for me to know and you to find out,” she says to me. “Off the record.”

I look at her now. “You look happy.”

“What does that mean?” I ask. “I’m always happy.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “You always pretend to be happy. Smile when you need to. Say what needs to be said.” I just look at her. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“It means that if she makes you happy, go for it.” I don’t say anything to her, not sure what to say. “Just be wary.”

“I’ve never not been wary,” I say, getting up and tossing out the rest of the meal. Suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore. “You know me,” I say, turning and leaning against the counter to look at her.

“I do know you,” she says. “I just don’t want you to get hurt in all of this.”

“Look, I don’t know what to say right now,” I say. “Becca came out of the blue. You know this. She was never on my radar.”

“And now she is.” She points at me.

“And now she is,” I admit. “It was one weekend,” I finally say out loud, not adding in that it was one fucking amazing weekend. The best that I’ve ever had. I don’t add any of that because I’m not ready. And when I am ready, I think that I should talk to Becca about it and not Lizzie. “When it becomes more than that.”

She smirks at me. “It’ll be fun to watch.” She turns, walking away. “Call Laurene!” she shouts.

Chapter 17

Becca

“Erika,” I say when I walk out of my office, “can you make sure that all of these are mailed out?” I hand her the box of holiday cards that I just finished signing. “Also,” I start to tell her, but I hear his voice, and my head turns to see Nico walking in with Francis. They are joking about something, and he looks up, seeing me. His smile turns into a smirk. “Well, well, well,” I say, walking to them, “what do we have here?” I look at him, seeing him in a charcoal suit. The black button-down shirt hides the six-pack I know is under there. His belt locking up his best feature. His hair is pushed back, and I try not to think about how I held on to his hair or the way it felt between my legs.

“Hello,” Nico says. I don’t know why, but something gets me not to kiss his lips and wish him hello the way I want to. “Just the woman I wanted to see.” It’s been four days since I’ve seen him or spoken to him. I am not going to lie. I have been checking my phone more often than I should lately.

“Here I am?” I say to him, putting my hands in front of me instead of slipping my finger into his.

“Excuse me, you two,” Francis says. “I have a meeting in five minutes.”

I wait for Francis to step away before I look back at Nico. “Please come this way,” I say, leading him back to my office, smiling at Erika, who looks up at us. “So,” I say, walking to my desk, turning in time to see him close the door behind him.

He walks to me, his eyes going dark as he gets close to me. “Hi,” he says, putting his arm around my waist. “You look good.”

“Had I known you were coming, I would have dre—” I’m stopped when his lips land on mine. My mouth opens for his, and for the first time in four days, I feel okay. Instead of that feeling I was missing something or forgetting something, everything I need is right here. My hands go into the hair I was just thinking about. He kisses me until I’m breathless, and when he lets me go, it takes a minute for me to open my eyes.

“You look good enough to eat,” he says, and I tilt my head to the side.

“Must be the shoes,” I say about my shiny black Louboutin shoes.

“It’s the whole fucking package,” he says, grabbing my ass with one hand and pushing me into him to show me how hard he is.