Hanging On (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2)(13)

He laughed. “Oh all right.”

“Yay!” I practically dove into the bag to get it.

He nodded. “Nice.”

“Nice? Here, look at the pockets.”

“Uh huh.”

“William! Try harder. Use your words.”

He chuckled again and said, “I don’t know. It’s a handbag. It’s fine. It looks like your style. Great. Excellent work!” he enthused.

“Oh whatever,” I said in mock huff and gingerly wrapped it back up. “What’d you get?”

“Huh? Oh, I just had to take care of a few things. Business. Nothing big.”

After we had a beer and some lunch, we went to Channel and William helped me pick out a pair sunglasses that looked good on my face. He got a pair, too.

When we got to the car he handed the gift cards back. “These are yours to do with what you please. I got them for you.”

“No. I mean, I know, thank you. But I didn’t need it all for the bag, and then you bought me the sunglasses, so…change.” I explained briefly why I didn’t get the newest of the bags.

He laughed and shook his head. “Jesus you are honest. Usually women scrape and beguile and get everything they can. I’m not used to getting change back. Or stopping at one item when you were given more to spend.”

I didn’t like the direction this was going.

“I told you—I’m not like that. I am not a two bit gold digger that is just tryi—“

“I’m sorry!” he cut me off, throwing his hands up. “I’m sorry. I was thinking out loud. I know that is not you. That is part of the reason why I like you. Sorry!”

“You better remember it, buddy!”

“You have anything to do today?”

“Nope. Got nothing. Any more errands you need to do?”

“I got everything done that I absolutely needed to. I had planned to go out tonight before…last night. Did you want to go?”

“Yeah, why not. Well, what is the situation with us in public?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, okay, here’s the thing. You have your world that you don’t really want us to be seen together in, and I have mine. How are we going to do this?” I was starting to get depressed about the whole situation again. Why was being with him so easy, but yet irritatingly difficult?

“It isn’t that I don’t want us seen together, it is that I don’t want my mom to find out how together we are until you are properly introduced.”

“I have been introduced.”

“With me, I mean. As my… date. I want her to find out from me that I have someone, not from gossip. She’ll be more open to you that way.”

“Oh. Okay, well people at work can’t know about you. Ever. If I get raises or promotions people will say it was because I am schtooping the boss. That I got promoted lying down.”

He was quiet for a minute. “I see your point. I assume Candace is the exception?”

“Yes. And your friends—you don’t care about them knowing?”

“Why would I?”

“Okay, well let me ask you this, how much can I touch you in front of them?”

“Jessica, you are just getting paranoid now. Ease into it. Feel it out as you go. Don’t get all riled up about nothin’.”

“I don’t even know where you got that English,” I said with a laugh, trying to diffuse my anxiety. I didn’t know how to feel it out. I hadn’t been in a healthy relationship, well, ever. I always picked jerks for some reason. So now, with a normal guy that liked me, I was terrified I’d screw it up somehow. I needed rules, guidelines. Hell, give a gal some brail.

Back at my house, William followed me in and gave me a long, deep, sensual kiss that left me breathless and lightheaded. It also left me hot and bothered, which I was sure was his intention. Instead of satisfying the urge right then, I decided it was time for my thank you.

“Give me a sec?” I asked, wiggling out of his grasp.

He made a disappointed moan, letting me get away with a light slap to my butt.

I nearly sprinted to my room. I ripped open my “not often used” drawer, rifling through a layer of lingerie I’d never used, but really wanted to. Now I got to! So many options!

Well, three.

I chose a red satin number with black lace. It was racy, it was shiny, it showed nipple. Yee-haw.

I sauntered back out in high heels and my new sunglasses. He stood at the bookcase, idly leafing through a volume. I walked in, all hip, currently behind him, wanting that element of surprise.

“Hey,” I said in an everyday tone.

He turned with the book, a question on his lips, then froze. The book wobbled. His mouth dropped. His eyes tried to cover every ounce of me at once, but my ni**les held them hostage.

I continued my saunter, feeling up my thighs, casually lifting the ends of the nighty so I could flash him my lace thong. His eyes zoomed in, desperate to see it again even after I dropped the satin back in place. He still hadn’t moved.

I took the book from his hands and set it aside. A quick flick of the remote brought Marvin Gaye into the room. William didn’t drop his hands. His c**k bulged against his pants.

I ran a finger down his face, course with not shaving that morning. Moving my body to the music, slowly, sensually, I turned, pressing my back into his groin, doing a little wiggle. Then I did the move I had been too chicken to do during the dance-off at Froggy's: I stroked behind me, down his stomach, then over the bulge of his cock.