Chance - Deborah Bladon Page 0,31

ignored the phone the first time it rang. After I came, he'd kissed me tenderly while I fumbled with the belt of his pants. I'd wanted to slide down the bed and take him in my mouth. I wanted to give him pleasure in the way I've always imagined I would. In my wildest and most arousing dreams, Caleb is standing against a wall, while I'm on my knees, and his hands are on my head. His cock is sliding in and out of my mouth and his breath is labored and heavy as he comes hard and gives me a taste of everything that he is.

I'd nodded in patient agreement when he told me that he had to take the call and I'd finally rolled off the bed and slid into the bathroom when he stood up, turned his back to me and walked to the window to talk about an order of shirts that hadn't been shipped.

The bite of rejection is there, albeit not as harsh as it might be if I hadn't stopped before leaving the room to look back to see him staring at me. His hand had leapt to his chest and he'd closed his eyes. It was a gesture that was born on the playground when he was in the sixth grade and I was in the first. I was scared and unsure during those first days of school and he had told me that he'd always be there and I would know that if I looked for him and saw him holding his heart.

I turn off the water when I feel it shift from hot to warm. It may be the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday but showers in this building are best served short. I've brought up the issue of the lack of hot water to the super only to be told that there's nothing he can do about it and water conservation is a good cause to support.

I towel off quickly before tugging a comb through my damp hair. I pull on Graham's blue patterned robe because mine is still buried in one of the boxes I brought with me when I moved out of the apartment I shared with Tom. I've always claimed laziness as a reason for not unpacking everything. My brother would argue that point in favor of my holding out hope that Tom and I will eventually reconcile. Unless I'm willing to throw my entire life away for a quick high, I will never be with Tom again.

A quiet knock on the door shakes me from my thoughts. I glide my hand over the steam covered mirror to look at my reflection before I turn to the left to yank open the door.

"I'm sorry about the call." He's dressed now. His shirt and tie are both back in place, his suit jacket hanging over his arm. "I need to go into the office."

I should point out that it's Saturday and that we were in the middle of something, but he knows those things. They're obvious and undeniable. I doubt that he knows that his running off is making me feel used.

I nod. "Is it a big problem?"

"It could wait until Monday," he begins before he furrows his brow. "I mean, I like to take care of problems immediately so there's no break in production."

I pull the robe closed tightly over my chest. "I understand."

"I'm not running away from what happened… I mean, I like what happened in your room, Rowan." He closes his eyes briefly. "We were both really emotional this morning. I was scared about Asher."

"Me too," I say through a sigh. "I'm relieved it wasn't him."

"I'll hire someone to find him." He shuffles his feet against the weathered cork floor. "I'll do that today."

I'm grateful that he's taking that step. I should express that but I don't want to cloud the moment with words of gratitude that may be construed as being about what happened earlier. I'm not going to thank him for getting me off when he's intent on racing out the door to save a shipment of shirts.

"I'll call you soon." He leans forward and brushes his lips over my cheek before he turns on his heel and walks out of my apartment.

Chapter 21

"Maybe his dick is hideous."

Again, the food in my mouth almost flies out mid laugh. I have to stop chewing in order to avoid swallowing because I know I'll choke. I turn to the left to see a