All ONES: The Complete Collection Page 16

  I take a sip of my coffee and grin over the rim. Without even speaking, my mom's features soften. She leans back in her chair as her eyes, the same color as mine, sparkle and little lines form in the corners.

  "Duncan. Tell me that this is something...not your normal..."

  I put my cup down. "My normal? Mom, you're mean."

  "When do I get to meet her?"

  Other than formal occasions when it is appropriate to have a beautiful woman on my arm, I rarely if ever introduce dates to my family. But after this past weekend, I imagine taking Kimbra to my parents' home and sitting with her and Trevor out to dinner. I shake my head. "I don't know. Maybe instead, I need intervention."

  "Intervention? Tell me, what do you need to be saved from?"

  "I can't even describe it. I wouldn't call this instant anything. It's been like a slow burn. You know, like that elusive honor. The prize you see on the top shelf of a kids' pizza place, like Chuck E. Cheese? The one you want, the one you work and work to achieve, saving your tickets until it can be yours.

  "You could just go buy a similar one, but it wouldn't be the same. That's what Kimbra has been. She's been that prize, for three years, the unobtainable trophy." I shrug, being totally honest. "You as well as everyone else know I've bought substitutes. Not in the conventional sense."

  I look Mom in the eye. "You don't have to add prostitutes to your list of my transgressions. I mean, bought women with gifts and dinners and shit. But none of them compare.

  "The thing is," I go on, "I expected that once I achieved the coveted trophy, I'd be satisfied. I figured once I got a taste, it would ease my want. I mean, the hunt is the best part."

  "And?"

  "And I'm not satisfied. The desire hasn't eased; it's intensified. It's like I can't get enough. I want that prize in my penthouse, on my arm, and tucked beside me at night."

  Mom's eyes open wide. "As in your bed?"

  My mother knows the truth. I have sex with women, a lot of women, but I don't sleep with them. I haven't. It's my hard limit. I rarely invite anyone to my penthouse, but if I do, I provide a ride home before the night is done. Hotels are easy. I can leave. The same with women's places.

  Duncan Willis doesn't sleep with women.

  I shrug. "We stayed at her parents'. Her family is hilarious. You and Dad would love them. Her dad and brother are farmers, which I learned is much more complicated than I ever imagined. Her mom and grandma had me laughing all weekend."

  "And?"

  "We stayed in her room, together. Her mom's idea. And it was nice."

  Mom shakes her head and scrunches her nose. "Now if you were one of my students, I'd ask you to describe nice, because I imagine you could come up with a better description."

  The waiter arrives with our order. As he places the plates before us, I remember falling asleep with Kimbra's body against mine, the scent of her hair, and taste of her lips. I recall waking to the sound of her breathing. Once the waiter is gone, I look back at Mom. She isn't looking at her meal, but at me.

  "And," I admit, "it was everything. Everything I've never wanted."

  Mom clenches her hands at her chest. "Duncan Willis, I'd given up hope that I'd ever hear those words out of your mouth."

  "That makes two of us."

  "Don't screw this up."

  I laugh. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

  "No, dear. I have the utmost confidence in you. When it comes to women, you're the best at attaining that prize. Now, convince her that she's more than that."

  I lower the fork I've just lifted. "She is, Mom. She really is."

  "Then use that ability you have to get what you want in a new way."

  "A new way?"

  "Use it to keep what you want." Her expression becomes serious. "As long as that's what she wants too. Is it?"

  "I hope so."

  It's after seven by the time I walk my mom to her car.

  I can't get her words out of my head. Use it to keep what you want. As the weekend's memories replay in my mind, I recall the bouquet I'd arranged to have in the plane. We'd left it on the plane.

  Did that mean that she didn't want it? Was earning the flowers all she wanted or was it just to fool her family?

  As the questions swirl and I make my way to my car, I notice the street vender, closing up shop. Rushing across the street, I hurry his direction.

  "How much for your flowers?"

  "Which ones?"

  I scan his selection. "All of them."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kimbra

  Ding!

  I sigh as I turn toward Shana. With her half-filled glass of wine sitting on the end table, she's asleep at the other end of the couch. Apparently, wine, pizza, and hanging out at airports waiting for her flight has taken its toll.

  The doorbell rings again but she doesn't budge.

  I shake my head and walk toward the door, wondering who would be coming to our place at almost nine at night. From habit, I peek out the small domed peephole. All I can see are flowers.

  Cautiously, I lock the chain and open the door only as wide as it allows. "Hello?"

  A single rose comes forward. "Another flower for our bouquet."

  The deep voice reverberates through me as I look down at the familiar, worn brown loafers and blue jeans.

  “Duncan?” I say, closing the door, unlocking the chain, and opening the door again. “Shhh." I motion toward Shana and lead him toward our kitchen. Once there, I whisper, "Why are you here?”

  His sexy, casual smirk melts my heart as much as my panties.

  "We left our flowers on the plane,” he says, peering around the large bouquet in his hands. “And after four days of earning flowers, including our first flight...and your induction…the walk in the woods...Grandma Helen...I didn't want you to forget."

  I lean close and kiss his cheek. "I don't think forgetting is possible. Walking, on the other hand..."

  "Oh, beautiful, I'd like to help you be too sore to walk."

  I lift myself up on my tiptoes to a high cupboard above the refrigerator and find a vase. After another look at how many flowers Duncan is holding, I bring down two. As I fill them with water, and Duncan hands me the flowers, I think how nice it is to have him with me, doing something casual like arranging flowers.

  Once they're set, one vase on the table and the other on the counter, he reaches for my hand. "I have a confession."

  "You do?"

  "This is new to me."

  I shake my head. "I doubt that being in a woman's apartment is new to you."

  He tilts his head toward the living room where Shana is sleeping. "Can we talk, somewhere else?"

  "Talk? What about that promise of soreness?"

  His grin brightens. "Oh, that too, but first talk."

  I nod and take his large hand in mine as I lead him to my room. Across the hall Shana's door is open and the room is empty except for a few suitcases. Duncan raises a brow.

  "Yeah, Saks has already shipped her stuff. She was supposed to be in London, but there's a storm. So, until her flight, the couch is her bed."

  "You could let her sleep in your room."

  I nodded. "I'd planned on that, but three-ways aren't my thing."

  "I don't plan to share you with anyone, not even your roommate." He looks around my room. "Ah, you can come home with me tonight. Let her have your bedroom." He runs a knuckle tenderly over my cheek. "I'm going to miss having you beside me as I sleep. And I have this great big bed."

  "With a pink canopy. You told me about it."

  "Well...before we talk about that, consider my offer. I know we have work tomorrow. Bring clothes and give Shana the bed." His hand lowers to my breasts. "And besides, it's time to free your beautiful tits. I've officially volunteered as tribute to make that my job."

  "Mr. Willis, your compassion knows no bounds. My roommate and my breasts. You're too kind."

  "I wasn't thinking in that order."

  “How was your date?” />
  “It was nice. Maybe next Monday you can join us? But first, I thought maybe I could bring you the flowers and…” He wraps his arm around my waist. “…fuck, Kimbra. If you must hear me say it, I wanted a reason to come back to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, the weekend, and the future.”

  Future?

  “Duncan…”

  He pulls me toward my bed and I land beside him. His cologne fills my senses with the spice and clean scent I grew accustomed to sleeping beside. I shake my head. "Maybe this isn't a good idea."

  “What isn't? My being here, holding your hand, talking to you…or more?”

  “I’m just not sure how tomorrow is supposed to work.” I shrug. “I didn’t know how the weekend would work and it was better than I ever imagined."

  Duncan nods. “It was…better than I could have imagined and let me say, my imagination was working overtime." He runs a finger along my jawline. "But the reality fucking blew it out of the water."

  I fight the need to incline to his touch. "I can't help but wonder if it would be easier if we stick with our original plan. Now that the weekend is over, we go back to the way it was."

  He moves so close that if I inhale, my breasts will press against his hard chest. I look up to the sea of emerald green.

  "The way it was?" He asks as the tips of his fingers brush my arms, so soft I wonder if we touched at all. "Before I could touch you..." His face tips to the side, his warm cinnamon breath blows across my cheek, and then his firm lips skirt across mine. "Before I could kiss you?"

  My insides tighten as my eyes flutter. "D-Duncan..."

  "Before we used first names, Miss Jones." He leans back. "Tell me. Is that what you want?"

  "Yes...no," I admit, closing the distance once again until my breasts push against his chest.

  This time his hand wraps in my hair as the kiss deepens, his tongue adding flavor and our bodies melding together. "I don't either," Duncan admits.

  "Fuck," I sigh.

  He stands, pulling my hand until I’m upright and begins to tug me toward the hallway.

  "Wait! What are you doing?"

  His grin grows. "We need to get to my place. After all, you just said you want to fuck?"

  "No." I slap his shoulder. "That wasn't a verb or a request. It was...it was just...fuck. My mind is telling me to stop this now."

  "Because stopping it would be easiest?"

  "Yes."

  "Miss Jones, I recall someone telling me that easiest isn't always best. I took that advice when I accepted the opportunity you presented to me to attend Scarlett's wedding." He caresses my cheek. "Getting to here...to now...to there being any kind of us. None of that was easy. But, oh, beautiful, it has been worth it."

  "I don't want to get hurt," I admit, afraid I'm sounding like the needy kind of woman he distances himself from.

  He takes both my hands in his, lifts them to his full lips and kisses my knuckles. "Kimbra, the last thing I want to do is to hurt you. I don't want to be hurt either. That's why I was honest about what I can and can't do. I can make limited promises and do my best not to let you down.

  "On Thursday, I said that I couldn't guarantee the future, but I could be the best damn boyfriend you ever had for the weekend. Tell me, did I come close?"

  "Yes."

  "Close?" he asks. "Or are you saying yes to coming?"

  I shake my head. "The thing is you're right. I think it was being home. Scarlett's wedding. Kevin and Susan's announcement."

  "What announcement?"

  My cheeks rise as my eyes radiate my genuine excitement. "They're pregnant."

  "That's fantastic. Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Kevin told me at the wedding. He said not to tell. Besides, I didn't figure you'd care. The weekend..."

  "Stop," Duncan says. "I told you that I care about you. Your family, no matter how crazy or fun they are, are part of you. I care.

  "I tell you what," he adds. "Let's make a new deal?"

  "What kind of deal?" I ask apprehensively.

  "No more qualifiers. Not a weekend or a week. Not a month or even a year. Miss Jones, I promise to be the best boyfriend you've ever had until I'm not anymore."

  How can I turn down such an honest offer?

  "Oh," he adds. "And I promise to make you come more than any other boyfriend."

  "You've already achieved that status." I say sheepishly.

  He lifts my chin. “Damn, I love to watch you blush." Before I can reply, he adds, "Would you like to know something you've achieved on my end?"

  I'm not sure I can handle the answer.

  "If you want to tell me."

  "Despite the rumors you've heard, I don't sleep with women."

  I'm taken aback. "What? Men?"

  Duncan's laugh fills my apartment, forgetful of Shana down the hall. "No. I'm being literal. I have sex, protected. I hook up. I don't sleep. Rarely has anyone come to my place. Even if she does, I have her driven home, drive her home, or call her a cab. If we end up at her place or a hotel, I leave. There have been one or two drunken nights that I can't totally account for, but sleeping...four nights in a row." He shakes his head. "Never."

  "Really?" I ask amazed. "But you knew when I said we would be away that it would mean sleeping."

  "And I seized the opportunity."

  I run my hand over his chest. "And you're asking me to your place? You do realize that will make night five."

  "Yes, my math skills are rather impressive. I know that four plus-one is five. And if you add another plus-one, it will be six. Would you like me to continue?"

  "You really want to try?" I ask.

  "I want to try until either of us can't."

  His shirt blurs as tears threaten my vision. "I've been promised forever and it was a lie. I guess I like the honesty of for now."

  "If we can go back to my place, I hope you'll let me try for a bonus round on making you come. I feel I have a status to maintain."

  "Oh, Mr. Willis, for each night that ends in literal sleeping, there better be one or two attempts at increasing your record."

  He laughs and reaches for my hand. “Let's pack. When does Shana's plane leave?”

  "Wednesday, weather permitting."

  Duncan sits on the edge of my bed watching my every move as we chat quietly about nothing and everything. I gather clothes and other items, placing them in a pile, ready to pack.

  Duncan lifts something from the bed, rises, and moves my direction, his green eyes zeroing in on only me.

  He’s so damn sexy.

  “Speaking of your assortment,” he says revealing my only sexy nightgown—one I had to dig to the bottom of my drawer to find—his grin quirks. With the material held only by the spaghetti straps, his eyebrows dance. “I like this,” he says. “You forgot to pack this for our trip to Indiana.”

  “I didn’t think it was appropriate with my grandma and parents.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, I like inappropriate.”

  “I have noticed.”

  Nonchalantly, he lifts and drops his shoulders. “It’s okay. Personally, I like what you wore to sleep over the weekend. I was hoping you’d consider wearing, or should I say, not wearing the same thing.”

  Just his suggestion heats my skin, sending a tingle from my toes all the way to my scalp. “So no negligee?” I ask, reaching for it.

  He lifts his arm, pulling the negligee out of my reach. “I didn’t say that. Tonight, I’ll provide the music while you take this off.”

  I brush my lips over his and this time, reach successfully for the nightgown. “Oh, no, Mr. Willis. If you want this nightgown off…” I hold up the skimpy material. “…I’m not the one doing the striptease.” I eye him up and down. “Yes, I think I might like that.”

  “Fuck,” he moans, reaching for my hand and pulling me close. “I’m getting hard just thinking about this.”

  I wiggle away. “Then let me grab a few things for tonight and we can take care of that.”

 
Duncan follows me toward my closet. “Today’s Monday. I think that you should bring a couple days' clothing.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Duncan

  I’m actually nervous as I open the door to my apartment. I’m Duncan Willis. I don’t do nervous. Then again, I don’t do sex without condoms or sleepovers. I gaze over at Kimbra and remember why everything is different.

  It’s her.

  In the course of a week, she’s turned my life upside down.

  I remind myself it hasn’t been a week, but three years.

  Never has Duncan Willis waited that long for his desire. Never have I gone without nor has my want been denied me. It is especially true of business. Once my sights were set, I achieved.

  Women have been different. Kimbra was different.

  Like I'd said, I don’t chase women; they chase me.

  Kimbra Jones was always so close and yet so far. Until now.

  I lean down and kiss her cheek. “Welcome.”

  Opening the door wide, I make a grand gesture for Kimbra to enter. Her eyes open as round as saucers as she takes in the space and I hit switches, bringing the penthouse to life.

  It's then that I remember our bouquet.

  Having her here in my penthouse is another flower.

  Kimbra takes a few steps and begins to turn.

  I watch as she rotates, showing me all her curves from every angle. Even though that isn’t the reason she spins, a smile breaks across my face as I enjoy the view. When she stills, she stares toward the windows and the view beyond, filled with the green illuminated Empire State Building.

  I flick another switch, causing the fireplace to roar to life and music to fill the air.

  “I should probably apologize,” I say.

  “Why would you apologize?” she asks, her voice overflowing with the appreciation that doesn't seem to be able to be contained in her sparkling blue eyes. “This place is amazing.”