Solid Stone Series - Book cover

Solid Stone Series

E.G. Patrick

Chapter 2

I haven’t bumped into Adam Stone since he drove me to the deli, but that didn’t stop me from imagining his face, his voice, and wondering what he was doing.

I smiled when I thought of the closing next week. He would be at that meeting for sure.

I sighed. I knew I should stop feeling this way. It was a pipe dream.

My three-month review with Paul had gone very well. He said he was impressed at how well I fit in and liked the quality of the questions I asked about specific contracts.

He even joked that I might have saved the firm the equivalent of my salary already.

Now I was at my dad’s, and we were in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. “I miss your mother’s apple cake,” he said.

“I keep having apple crumble, and it’s not even close. She made the best apple cake ever.”

“She did everything by hand. None of that store-bought stuff.”

“I know. Sometimes I’d watch and wish now I’d spent more time with her in the kitchen.”

“She knew you had to study. That was important to her and me.”

“I’m just glad she saw me graduate.”

“We were so proud of you. She knew something was wrong even then but didn’t want to ruin your day or mine.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know either. They were running tests, and she didn’t tell me until after. I wasn’t going to argue, not with all that going on.”

“Oh, Dad, I wish she had. She must’ve been frightened.”

“She didn’t want us tiptoeing around her. You know she wouldn’t like that.”

“It’s been almost a year,” I said quietly. “Back then, we had Mom. I got a history degree and was wondering what to do next. How are you doing? You saw her every day.”

“I keep busy.” He handed me what was now my favorite mug—it has Best Mom written across the front. “I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me.

“I have my gardening and friends at the community center. I’m still swimming three times a week.”

Mom was my voice of reason, the one who’d hug me when I needed it or a little push when I needed that too. I never imagined my life without her.

When the doctors told her she had brain cancer, Dad and I were there. She said, “What will they do without me?” I left the room and bawled in the hospital stairwell.

I would never forget those words or how her eyes had pleaded for more time.

A few months later, before she got worse, Mom handed me a letter. I could still see her sparkling blue eyes staring at me. “I wrote this just for you, sweetheart. Read it when you think the time’s right.”

I stayed strong, holding my tears. I haven’t opened the letter yet.

I’ve overheard Dad talking to her in the kitchen when he thought I was upstairs, and her picture got moved around a lot too.

“You never know where life’s going to take you, so live it to the fullest.” That was what Mom used to say.

Dad’s voice brought me back. “So, you’re enjoying the job?”

“Paul’s an awesome boss and giving me more contract work now. It’s great.”

“You’re a smart one, Vee.”

“So you keep telling me. That’s what dads are supposed to do.” We both laughed.

After watching Family Feud, I washed up the cups and got my coat. Dad was snoring in his brown recliner. I tapped his shoulder, and he blinked a few times. “Sorry, sweetheart, I must’ve dozed off.”

“It’s nice seeing you so relaxed. I’m heading home now.”

He got up. “Let me get the car keys.”

“No, I’ll take the train. It gives me time to think.”

“Let me drive you to the station at least.”

I smiled to myself. We had the same conversation every time I left.

“Sure,” I replied, putting on my coat.

***

My apartment was quiet as I reread my transcribed notes. Now that I had a full-time job, I had a stake in the ground.

I thought back to the time Ann and I would talk about her dates over a glass of wine in this very room. There was even a professor who’d asked her out. I suppose I lived vicariously through her.

My mind wandered. It had started with a book. When we were fourteen, my friend Kim would take her mother’s steamy romance novels and we’d read them secretly in her bedroom.

That was where I first learned about sex outside of what we learned in eighth grade health classes, which were scientific and ordinary.

These books were enticing, passionate, and risky. We learned things we didn’t even know people could do. When I was fifteen, I found him, Darius, in one of these books.

He was strong, handsome, with dark hair and blue eyes. The bare-chested picture of him on the front cover made me feel things I’d never felt before. I used to bookmark the sex scenes and read them over and over again.

The screen on my laptop went into sleep mode. I tapped the return key and emailed the transcription to Paul. I was going to take Ann’s advice and start getting out more.

I said out loud, “Today and every day, I am confident, I am successful, and I am sexy.”

Just after ten, I yawned, and after brushing my teeth, jumped into bed. In the dark, with my eyes shut, my hand moved down, and my thoughts began to wander.

***

My name is Gia, and Prince Darius can be very creative in his desires for me. Today I’m in his bath chamber, lying still as a servant finishes getting me ready.

She steps back, bowing her head before leaving. It’s not long before I hear footsteps and look to my right. His blue eyes look greedily at me as his tall, muscular body steps into the bath.

“Gia, you are a vision of loveliness. I am so hungry for you.” I smile. “What do we have here?”

My naked body has been set with the delights he enjoys. Grapes cascaded over my breasts, and an assortment of berries and figs rested on my midriff, with a small pool of honey in my navel.

He reaches for one of the berries, circling it in the honey very slowly. I remain still, even though I am starting to feel aroused. He pops it into his mouth before reaching for some grapes.

His hand lingers over my breast before he plucks a grape to eat. He scans my body, smiling as he does. His finger circles a nipple as he chews.

It tingles and fills me with hunger now, but not for food. It takes all my control not to move or moan.

His fingertips walk along my thigh until they reach a fig. Gingerly, he swirls it around in the honey. My body heats up.

Taking a berry, he trails it across my lips. I open my mouth to take it, and he pulls it away, teasing me a few times before pushing it through my lips. It bursts inside of my mouth.

He takes another fig and slides it between my thighs. I clench each time it glides over my clitoris. As he puts the fig to his lips, he whispers in my ear, “This is the best thing I have tasted all day.”

Sudden heat flares within me, and I almost move again.

With one hand, he sweeps the remaining food from my body and turns me around so that my legs are dangling in the bath. He pulls me up into a seated position, lifting my head to kiss me—long and hard.

His hand roams over my breasts and then down between my thighs. He smiles as his finger lingers in my essence. Then, suddenly, he pushes me back so that I’m lying down again and spreads my legs.

“Look at me, my beautiful Gia.” I lift my head slightly so I can look into his eyes. He’s ravenous. “I am most hungry for this.”

In a matter of seconds, he buries his head between my thighs. The first lick tantalizes my clitoris to stand to attention. Next, he masterfully flicks his tongue around and around so many times I can’t count.

My hips rise and fall as he pushes his face into me, enhancing my pleasure. I can feel rising swells each time he rolls his tongue. He slides it down and then up again and then into me.

Watching his head move up and down is highly arousing. He must sense my angst and croons, “Let go, beautiful.”

A few well-placed licks and my body writhes under the pressure of his head as my moan echoes through the bath chamber. I lie still in the aftermath, catching a glimpse of his glistening face covered in the essence of Gia.

***

I was going to sleep very well tonight.

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