Second (12 page)

Chapter Twenty One

I wake up with the mother of all headaches, and a dry mouth. I look next to me on my bed, where Tara is passed out, snoring, and wish I could sleep in like her. Grabbing my phone, which died during the night, I put it on charge and head to the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth. When I’m done, I turn my phone on, wondering if Dean tried to call. When I see the seven missed calls, I cringe. He was probably worried, or thinking that I went back on my word and decided to ignore him.

Fuck.

I press on his name and bring the phone to my ear. I don’t even know what time it is there, but I know it’s night-time. If he’s asleep at least he’ll see the missed call.

He answers on the third ring.

“Sabina?” he says sleepily.

“Hey,” I say, speaking quickly. “Sorry I didn’t pick up any of your calls last night.”

He’s quiet for a second. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just went out with Tara and my phone died,” I say, lying back on the bed. “How was your flight?”

I hear him exhale, as if in relief. “It wasn’t too bad. I miss you though. I want you in my bed for once.”

I smile. “Hopefully soon.”

“What trouble did you and Tara get up to?”

“We went out dancing,” I say, yawning. “And drinking. She’s here with me, fast asleep.”

“You got drunk?” he asks, sounding a little concerned.

“Yeah,” I say, rubbing my head. “Just needed to let loose a bit.”

“Sabina—”

“I’m fine, Dean. You don’t have to worry about me.”

He goes quiet for a few seconds. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

I swallow. “I know, Dean.”

“So I’m going to worry. And you’re going to have to handle it.”

I sigh, but with a smile playing on my lips. “I can handle anything you throw my way.” I pause. “With conditions, of course.”

Dean chuckles. “Lots of fine print, I bet.”

“Now that you mention it,” I say, grinning. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. When you didn’t pick up I thought that maybe you’d changed your mind.”

“Never,” I say.

I hear the smile in his tone when he says, “Good. I’m going to try to get some sleep but I will call you in the morning.”

“Okay, goodnight.”

“’Night, babe.”

We hang up and then I head into the kitchen to make Tara and me the greasiest breakfast ever.

*****

The next day is my first day back at work, and how bad is it that I already want to ask for time off again? Sure, Leah is my friend, but first and foremost she’s my manager. I wait until the end of the day before I ask her. She says she’ll let me know, but she doesn’t look too impressed with me, and fairly so. I leave work and drive straight home. I decide on a hot bath with a green glitter bath bomb, and all I do is think about Ben. What else did he hide from me? How many other affairs? Why did he do this to me? Why propose at all? I don’t understand him. I clearly didn’t make him happy enough. We weren’t a match. We weren’t meant to be together. I just wish I could have one final conversation with him to try and get some closure, but obviously I’m going to have to forgive him and move on without any of that. Things happen for a reason. I don’t know why this happened, but now I need to let it go. I need to let Ben go, and the thought of us having a perfect first love. We didn’t. It wasn’t a perfectly imperfect love either. It was a fake love. But it’s time to look forward and not backward.

My future is Dean; at least I think he is. And if he’s not, that’s okay too. I’ll be fine either way. I’m strong. I do hope things work with him though, because I know I’ll never meet someone else like him. I love the way he sees me. I love how he makes me feel. I love everything about him. And I think I deserve to be happy now. I close my eyes, and play my “sleepy song” playlist, which is filled with ballads and love songs.

I really hope I get this time off. I don’t think I’ll fully understand and know Dean until I see his world. I need to see if I can fit in there, because what I’m picturing is so different to what it’s like when he visits me.

I wonder what he’s doing right now.

*****

When Kate shows up at my door, I wish it was anyone else, even the grim reaper.

“Sabina,” she says, nose in the air. “We need to talk.”

I open my door for her to enter. “Can I get you a coffee or something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine,” she says, sitting down on the couch and looking around. “I can’t believe you sold the lovely house Ben worked so hard to give you and moved into this. It looks like a bachelor pad. Is that the type of lifestyle you’re living these days?”

Well, her son was living it while we were married, so why the hell not?

I clear my throat and sit down with her. “What do you want to discuss?”

“Luke, of course,” she says, smiling. “He looks just like Ben did as a child. I heard that you met him?”

I blink slowly. I don’t know what she wants from me, but I’m not going to react. She doesn’t deserve my emotions right now.

“Yes, he’s a cute kid,” I agree. “And yes, he looks a lot like Ben.”

She studies me, as if wondering why I’m not yelling or screaming or something. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay with it. You knew your marriage was having issues, and poor Ben had to go look elsewhere for love.”

I grit my teeth, but stay silent. I actually can’t believe the nerve of this woman. She can go harass Sam’s life now. “Well if that’s all,” I say, trying to force a smile and failing. “I’m about to head to the gym.”

Kill them with kindness.

Some people are just so stupid that you can’t argue with them.

“Oh, okay,” she says, not looking satisfied with our exchange, which satisfies me. “Maybe you can come for dinner the next time Sam and Luke are over.”

I can’t make this shit up.

“Maybe,” I say, standing up and hoping that she takes the hint.

“It’s a shame that Dean left,” she sniffs, also standing. “He’s such a good boy. Sent money for Luke; since his father isn’t here to provide, he’s stepping in.”

“He is a good man,” I agree. I don’t bother to tell her that I’m going to give Luke Ben’s insurance money. I’ll tell Dean that, and get him to handle it. Kate would probably take it for her damn self.

“Anyway, nice talking to you,” I lie.

“Don’t be a stranger, you are still family, Sabina. Maybe if you grow your hair longer again you can find a nice boyfriend. Men like long hair. Remember that.”

I wave bye and all but close the door on her.

Men like long hair?

I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

Worst mother-in-law who isn’t even my mother-in-law anymore ever.

*****

When Leah tells me I can have another week off, but it won’t be paid leave, I decide to take it anyway. Maybe I should go and surprise Dean? I begin to formulate a plan and look up ticket prices. When I find a good deal, I book it. Looks like I’m going to LA. In four days. Shit. I take my suitcase out from under my bed and open it up, then I start to pull out my clothes, choosing whatever I think I’ll need. I pack all the necessities, plus a few sexier outfits. Boots, sneakers, heels, and flats get thrown in there, and then I wonder if that’s too many shoes for just a week. I want to cover all bases though. I look in the mirror and smile, excitement filling me at the thought of seeing Dean again so soon. I send him a message asking for his address because I want to send him something, hoping that he doesn’t suspect anything, then continue getting ready for this spontaneous trip.

For once it’s me going to surprise him.

And I hope he loves it.

Chapter Twenty Two

When the cab stops at Dean’s house. I have to do a double take. It’s huge. I mean I knew it would be, but it’s a fucking mansion. I’ve never even been inside a house like this before.

“Ummm,” I mumble, paying the driver, who gets out and helps me take my suitcase. “Thank you,” I tell him, giving him a tip. He drives away and I drag my suitcase up to the front door. Luckily the giant gates out the front were open, although if I were him I wouldn’t leave them like that. What if some of his fans decide to pay him a visit? I knock on his front door, but there’s no answer. I call his phone, and lucky for me he picks up straight away.

“Babe?”

“Hey,” I say, smiling. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m at the studio. Why? Is everything okay?”

Do I just tell him that I’m here? So much for a surprise.

“Yeah,” I say, dragging out the word.

“What is it?” he says, sounding concerned. I hear him tell someone, “Give me a minute.”

“Dean—”

“You sound weird, what’s going on? I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“Ummm.” I take a deep breath and decide to just tell him. “I’m in front of your house. Surprise.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Babe, if this is a joke, it’s not cute.”

“I’m here, Dean. Your house is cream and black, and there are two cars out the front.”

“Fuck,” I hear him whisper. “Babe, holy shit! I would have come and picked you up from the airport.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “I’m on my way home now. Don’t move, Sabina.”

I look around. I’m not moving anywhere. I sit down on my suitcase after I lean it against the wall, and listen on the phone as I hear Dean getting into his car. He puts me on speakerphone.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re here. Today is the best day ever.”

“I wanted to surprise you but that was a fail.”

“Are you kidding me? I am surprised!” he says, sounding excited.

“Can you even just leave the studio like that?”

“Well, this is an emergency, so they will be fine with it.”

In twenty minutes, I see a car pull up.

It’s him.

I push off the wall and walk towards him, laughing as he gets out of the car and literally runs to me. He picks me up in the air, then lets my body rub against his as he lowers me until our lips are on each other’s. He carries me in his arms and I wrap my legs around him as he walks to the door and unlocks it with his key.

“My suitcase,” I remind him when he’s about to pass the threshold.

He puts me down, grabs my suitcase, puts it inside, and then closes the front door. I look around his house, and it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s all open, with glass doors.

“No time for that, babe, I’ll give you a tour later,” he says, picking me up again and walking up the stairs with me.

“Why do you leave your gate open? Isn’t that unsafe?”

“I usually don’t,” he explains. “But I’m glad I did or you’d have been waiting at the gate instead of the door.”

He opens the door to his room, and I eye the huge-ass bed in the middle. “Have many orgies?” I blurt out, then cringe, making him laugh.

“Not recently. Why, did you want to have one?”

I scowl.

He lays me back and says, “I’ve never even fucked anyone on this bed, Sabina. And I’ve never had an orgy, but thanks for thinking that about me.”

“The bed can fit like eight people at least.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like big things,” he fires back, making my jaw drop.

“Good one,” I admit.

Must give credit when it’s due.

He starts laughing, and continues to do so while he undresses me.

“I want to have a shower,” I tell him. “I’ve been travelling for almost a whole day. I don’t smell good.”

“You smell good to me,” he says, eying my now nakedness with heat in his eyes.

“Shower,” I demand.

“Okay,” he agrees, taking my hand and leading me to his bathroom.

“Wow” is all I can say when I see it. A huge shower, spa bath, and mirrors everywhere. “This is stunning.”

“Yes, I agree,” he says, but when I look at him I find his eyes on me.

“Dean,” I say, smiling.

As if unable to help himself, he tastes my lips, pulls away, and turns the shower on. I go in first, groaning at the feel of the hot water on my skin. His shower has the perfect pressure too. I’m about to tell him so when he jumps into the shower with me, his front pressed against my back. His hands cup my breasts, feeling them in his hands while his lips start to kiss down my neck.

“Dean—”

“I want you so badly right now, Sabina. Seeing you here.... You have no idea what it means to me.”

I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck, and he lifts me up and pushes my back against the cold tiles. Mouths connected, his hand slides between us and he starts to play with me, making sure I’m nice and wet for him. I can feel his hard cock pressed against my skin, more than ready to slide inside of me. When Dean feels how wet I am, he takes his cock and slowly starts to push inside.

“Yes,” I whisper against his lips.

It hasn’t even been that long since the last time we were together, maybe a week, but it feels like forever. My body misses him. He pumps in and out of me while kissing my lips, neck, and jawline. I score my nails down his back as I feel my orgasm approaching, biting down gently on his bottom lip.

“I’m going to come,” I say, closing my eyes.

“Open your eyes, Sabina,” he whispers, so I open them and look at him, my head resting back against the tiles, water dripping down every inch of me. He runs his thumb along the column of my throat, pressing gently as I begin to come, my thighs quaking as I’m lost in the moment of pleasure. When the last wave has passed, Dean slides out of me, spins me around so my cheek is pressed against the wall, and slides back into me from behind. I stick my ass out for him, giving him better access, moaning as he fucks me slow and deep, taking his time now. When he comes he says my name and buries his face in my neck, kissing me there sweetly.

He eventually pulls out of me, and he washes my body and my hair with his boy shampoo, the process sensual and one I’ve never experienced before. I’d never think to ask a guy to wash my hair, but it seems I really like it.

“That feels so good,” I tell him on a sigh.

I can hear him smile as he says, “I can tell.”

We get out of the shower. Dean brings my suitcase up while I dry myself and my hair, and I unlock it and pull out my nightclothes before getting into his giant bed.

He smirks when he sees me. “You look so small on my bed.”

“That’s because it’s fucking massive,” I say, burying my face in the pillow. “I could sleep for a year.”

“Jet lag, babe,” he says. “You must be exhausted. Can I get you something to eat or drink? Fuck, I should have fed you before I fucked you, but I just had to have you. I missed you so much, and seeing you show up here…. You have no idea, Sabina.”

He sounds a little worried.

“I wanted you too, Dean. And yes, I’d love some water. I’m not hungry now, but I know I will be when I wake up from this coma of a nap I’m about to fall into.”

“Okay, I’ll get you some water. And whatever you want to eat, I’ll get it for you. My chef is here for dinner. I usually fend for myself for breakfast and lunch, but if you’re here I might tell him to stay all day.”

“I can cook us food, Dean,” I say, yawning. “And so can you. We don’t need a 24/7 chef.”

“You’re on holiday,” he says. “I don’t want you to have to lift a finger.”

“You cook and do everything when you visit me,” I point out. “No double standards. Besides, I like doing it, and what else am I going to do? It’s not like I’m working or anything, so don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m going to be taking you here, there, and everywhere,” he says, frowning. I glance up at him and just take him in, standing here in nothing but a white towel, wrapped low on his hips. His hair is damp and messy, a few water droplets still on his chest and abs. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d lick them then trace his six-pack. But I am, so I’m just going to admire the view. His sleeve tattoo gives him an edge I like, and I really can’t describe a better body, even in my dreams. He’s something else.

And he’s all mine.

“We won’t have time to worry about doing all that shit,” he continues.

I yawn. “Babe, come cuddle. We can argue about this later, okay? After I’ve slept and I’m feeling fierier.”

He laughs at that and joins me in bed, throwing his towel on the floor. “I finally have you in my bed. You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this.”

I smile and rest my head on his chest.

It’s nice to be away from everything.

It’s just us here, in this big house.

No Kate dropping by. Nothing to really worry about, except apparently whether or not to have a chef on hand all day. Dean has made such an amazing life for himself, and now he wants to share it with me, which I appreciate. I just hope I don’t feel weird, like the thought of having someone cook all my meals makes me feel. I’m used to doing things for myself. I’m an independent woman. I don’t want him to take that away from me, but I know he wants to spoil me, and that’s a very nice thing. Where do I draw the line?

I don’t know.

“’Night, Dean,” I whisper.

“’Night, babe.”

I fall into a deep sleep within seconds.