I've been meaning to tell you…
He pulls at my sash, untying the robe that keeps my nakedness confined against the thin, silky material of scarlet.
I've got this feelin' that won't subside.
His fingers trail down my chest, tantalizingly slow as he reaches the space between my breast, and I feel my breath hitch in my throat.
I look at you and I fantasize…
They continue their decent, lower, and lower, until he's reached the warmth growing between my legs. I try to let out a growl, but it comes out as a muffled noise instead.
You're mine tonight.
I tip my shoulders back, the robe sliding down my arms in ease, presenting myself to him. Allowing him to look, to touch, to do whatever he wants with me.
Now I've got you in my sights…
He wraps his arms possessively around my waist, pulling me into him.
…with these…
He burrows his head into my neck, kissing it, nipping me, and I let out another odd sound. His hands trace the curves of my body, those long, invoking fingers of his leaving a trail of goosebumps in its path.
Hungry eyes.
He backs away, and I pout. I'm quick to stop, though, because he stretches out a captivating smile. I drink it in, his lips inviting, his cheekbones slightly rising, his firm jaw softened at the gesture. I'm about to reach out and stroke his face, when he lifts up his forearm to his face…
… and bites into a Snickers bar.
One look at you and I can't disguise
"You're not you, when you're… hungry," he says with a heavy Italian accent. I raise my eyebrow at him as he continues to eat the candy bar, licking his lips, slowly and commercially biting into it with strings of caramel stretched between him and the processed candy bar. When the hell did he start speaking in an Italian accent? Shields isnt' Italian. I'm pretty sure that Shields is of Dutch ancestry, actually.
I've got hungry eyes-
My eyes flutter open slowly and I groan. Slapping the clock radio, I instantly turn off the tune that changed my extremely sexy dream into a stupid rendition of a commercial.
Not that I should be dreaming about my boss. I know I shouldn't be. But damn, ever since that meeting, I can't help but think about him. And not sexually… usually. I mean, he is insanely handsome. Well groomed, built, tall… but regardless, it all started with that stupid comment Lita made. Knock him dead. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Impress him, I guess? That's how I took it. So, before the meeting, I dug out some old mascara found at the bottom of my purse, slipped a small amount on my lashes, applied some cherry Chapstick for a sheer, faint rosy lip color, and walked into the meeting, laptop in hand.
I was the first in the room, which I expected. Darien brought the clients in, which was also expected. He talked, they talked… all… expected. I took notes, diligently, quietly.
But, then I caught it.
There was a… look.
He was talking, his fingers wrapped around the silver ballpoint pen, his chin resting on the top of his hand. I was clicking away on my laptop, listening intently, until I caught it. His gaze on me. Those blue eyes catching mine, holding mine, as he continued to talk. It lasted maybe five, ten seconds tops, until he dropped the connection, turning his attention back to David LiPomco, CEO of the LiPomco Group. At first, I thought I was imagining things. Maybe he made eye contact because the point he was making was extremely important and needed to notate. Therefore, rather than overthink things, I chalked it up to that, and continued with my notetaking.
However, when whey concluded their two-hour session shortly thereafter, Darien escorting the clients down to the lobby, I saw the look again.
It was a quick head-to-toe scan, one that could easily be missed if you weren't actively watching. Hell, the only reason I caught it was because I was bidding my own goodbyes to the client. He clearly, and totally, checked me out.
Me. He checked ME out. Oh, my heart leapt at that! I haven't been checked out in ages! Then again, I never really dress to get checked out, but man, what a confidence boost! I felt like I was injected with some sort of serum that just made me… happy. So freaking happy.
Ever since that little moment, I've tried making more of an effort with my appearance. Not that I was doing it for him. After all, I am married. But that look, his small gesture, it reminded me of how good I used to feel when I would take the time to focus on my appearance. Back in my teens and early twenties, I used to spend hours getting ready. I would curl my hair, I would put on makeup, I would wear cute outfits that were trending at that time. However, as the years have gone on, I traded in cute for convenience, and ultimately stopped trying.
Well, I am done with that lazy phase of mine. So, the last few mornings, I've been making an effort to pair my outfits, style my hair, and apply the slightest hint of makeup. My new best friend? Concealer. Just dabbing on a little bit under my eyes makes me feel five years younger. And I know it's mental, but once I see those dark circles disappear when blended into the makeup, I instantly feel better.
Who would have thought that Darien Shields would inspire me to want to feel this good about myself again?
Rolling out of bed, I shuck my pajamas off and slip on my workout clothing, day 50 of the 80 Day Obsession program beckoning me to the downstairs TV. While I'd rather lay in my bed and analyze why I had a sexy dream about my boss, I decide to get my sweat on. Cardio Flow calls to me, a miserable, repetitive, obnoxious workout that I've grown to hate the more I work myself into the program. Mina told me I'd love it as I got further into the weeks of this Beachbody exercise routine. It was her favorite because it was quick, involved no weights, and with it being on a Saturday, she could do it whenever, not just around the new baby's workout. If I didn't have to play taxi-cab driver every Saturday beginning at 8:30, I probably would feel the same way. But, alas, life is life, and so I still get this workout in, only at 6:30 instead of 5. And I hate every single minute of it.
Speaking of Mina, I have a hair appointment with her this afternoon, and while I typically go in for a quick trimming, I rather want to shake things up again. Nothing drastic, just a subtle refresh. Maybe an extra inch off or something. That would change up the look a bit.
I turn my attention back to Autumn Calabrese, cursing her along the way as I do inchworms. God, I hate these. My knees can never seem to stay in position when I need to do this one move. Begrudgingly, I push through, much to my annoyance, when I eventually see Alex watching me in the hallway, laughing as I do the terrible Grizzly Bear ab walk.
"Joining me?" I ask him breathless as he laughs at my movements.
"Nope!" he cackles. "Your butt is in the air!" He giggles and runs off, and I shake my head at his amusement. I wrap up the workout, definitely dampened with sweat, when Seiya shuffles down the stairs, his black hair sticking out every which way, similar to Alex's.
"Kind of loud, don't you think?" he grumbles as he watches me towel off. I shrug and turn away, not really caring about his opinions. At least I exercise.
"It's after 7. Who cares?" I say to no one in particular as I turn off the television. Making my way into the kitchen, I watch as Seiya mindlessly pours a bowl of cereal and take a seat next to Alex, who is happily indulging in a package of store-bought mini muffins. I smile at the picturesque scene of father and son both quietly eating when I suddenly remember that Alex has a soccer game this afternoon.
"Hey, just a reminder, I have a hair appointment today," I relay to Seiya. He seems unbothered by it.
"Okay."
"I'll need you to drop him off at his soccer game while I'm there. His game is at 2:15, so he needs to be there—"
"—an hour before. Yeah, I know."
I nod. "Okay, good." For some reason I was expecting some sort of push-back for him dropping him off at his game, so I'm pleasantly satisfied when Seiya continues to eat and not say anything further. I grin; perhaps today will be a good day.
#
"The usual?" Mina asks as she starts running her fingers through my hair. The 'usual' is typically a half-inch trim, wash, and dry. No frills, no fuss. It's predictable and boring, maintainable and easy.
So I'm slightly surprised when I actually say what I was thinking earlier. "No. Actually, I was thinking of shaking it up a bit."
Mina smiles. "One inch?" she winks, knowing me all too well. We've been friends, and neighbors, for the last eight years since her family moved in. Our boys are the best of friends, which is extremely convenient for both of us when it comes to meets and games. Happily, our kids budding friendship evolved into our own friendship, finding a common love of coffee, shopping, and overall similar personalities.
"Actually, I was thinking of doing something different."
She stops running her fingers through my hair. "No way."
"Am I that predictable?" I ask with a frown.
"Sere, you've been getting the same cut since 2010."
"I know," I sigh. "I just, I don't know. What do you think?"
"Me?"
"Yeah. What do you think?" I practically plead.
Rather than answer me, she shoots me a look of concern. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," I reassure her. "I just, you know, for once want to do something a little different. I'm always doing stuff for the kids, or for Seiya. I'd like to finally let myself have something, even if it's just something different with my hair."
Mina smiles. "About freakin' time! Yes! Okay. I found this warm and cool balayage color and technique I've been dying to try on a natural blonde. Nothing drastic, but it will be an obvious change." She passes me her phone to see her vision, a icons of Pinterest photos of the hairstyle immediately on her screen. As I scroll through, I can't help but feel my heart beat wildly. This is perfect; nothing too crazy, but a look that it is truly a newer style for myself.
"I love it. It's just enough," I say with an approving smile as I hand her back her phone. She squeals as she slips her phone back into her pocket, fussing over my hair once again.
"Seiya is going to go nuts when he sees this!" she exclaims as she begins mixing color. My smile almost drops, but I know better.
"Maybe," I reply instead, despite knowing he won't really care.
If he notices at all.
Three hours later, my hair is softer, blonder, curled, and I feel like a freaking princess. No, I feel more like a shampoo model at the end of the commercial where she whips her head around dramatically and these "real bouncing curls" ripple in slow motion. I feel confident. I want to take pictures and post them online and see if my friends notice.
At least, I felt like that for about 5 minutes.
"Kind of late, isn't it?" a grunt of a husband states as he gets to work on seasoning the chicken he has laid out on the counter.
"I told you, I had a hair appointment," I reminded him as I place my purse on the console table.
"For three hours?" he replies with an eye-roll. "What the hell do you need done that lasts three hours?"
I sigh. "Nothing, Seiya."
"No, seriously, I want to know. Three hours? For what, Mina to cut your bangs? Does it take three hours for her to precisely trim your hair above your eyebrow?"
"Stop it," I say softly, my heart constricting.
"Or does she wash your hair in slow motion like a television commercial?"
"Stop," I insist, my voice hardening with anger. What the hell was the big deal?
"I mean you go in, you get a trim, you get washed up, and you're done. Yes? Or no?" he probes, and I feel tears begin to fall out.
"Because I got my hair colored today, you fucking idiot," I finally spit at him before I turn on my heel and storm down the hallway. God, what a pretentious asshole! I hear him shouting something about cost and waste of money, but I don't care to hear anymore. I fly up the stairs and into my room, well aware that the kid's doors are closed, before burying my head in my pillow.
Why does he always do this to me? Knock me down, make me feel small, worthless, insignificant. Why am I not allowed to have a moment to do something nice for myself? God, I'm so tired of it. Sick and tired of the fighting, the arguing, the snide commentary, the hurtful exchanges. The only time we seem to be cordial to one another is that stupid day we have sex, and even then over the last few months it has been dull and boring.
I'm so fucking sick of this life.
Like I predicted, he never noticed. He only cared about the cost and the time spent away, all negative, rather than tell me that it looks beautiful. Hell, I would have settled for nice. Not a kind word has been spoken from that man in months. What the hell have I done so wrong that he treats me so lousy lately? I am attentive. I take care of the house. I work hard, make good money. I am the mother of his children.
I hear him calling for everyone to come for dinner, and I feel my heart bleed as I know I have to show my face. Slipping on a familiar mask, I wipe my eyes and sit up, ready to play the part of a happy woman when I feel like I'm dying inside.
#
I am still a grumpy mess as I drive Elsie to her dance competition. Who am I kidding; I'm always miserable on dance competition days. 7:00 in the morning on a Sunday I have to be at the damn auditorium for her to meet with her group, and with Seiya and I not on speaking terms at the moment, he was not an instrumental part of helping out at all this morning.
Meaning, no coffee.
So, I lovingly coerced my daughter to leave 10 minutes early with the promise of Starbucks, to which she happily accepted, knowing I'm not the one who usually lets her get frilly drinks before a competition. But, I'm desperate for caffeine. And a shot of whiskey, but for now, the caffeine will do.
I yawn into my fist as we approach the counter, the barista behind the register smiling sympathetic at me. "Venti Americano, splash of heavy cream and one shot of white chocolate mocha," I order, the lifelessness in my voice briefly startling me. God, I sound like a transaction. In an attempt to sound human, I add a "please and thank you." I turn to my daughter. "What do you want, baby?"
"Can I get a strawberries and crème frappuchino? The new one with the chunks of strawberries?" Elsie asks the barista, who smiles back.
"You got it. Anything else?"
"Can you make that two Americanos, exact same way?" a familiar voice behind me booms. I turn around to no other than Darien Shields, unfairly dressed at such an hour in a pair of dark jeans and a charcoal sweater that makes his features more illustrious than I have ever imagined before.
"Sure thing. That will be $14.50. Name for the order?"
"Darien," he says as he passes the card over to the green-aproned gentlemen.
"You didn't have to do that," I start to say, only for Darien to give me one of those earth-shattering smiles I've begun to notice more often.
"It's nothing," he says with a smile as he puts his returned card back in his wallet. "Early morning for a Sunday," he adds as we shift over to the counter. I nod.
"Yes. Today is Elsie's competition across the way at the auditorium," I say as I place my hands on my daughters shoulders, which are currently cloaked in her black and red warm-up's. I watch as Darien looks at my preteen daughter, back at me, and then back to her, the connection of my failed attempt at law school clearly registering. Yup. Dropped out of school because I got pregnant. You finally figured it out. "Elsie, this is my boss, Mr. Shields. Mr. Shields, this is my daughter, Elsie." I formally greet them.
"Darien," he corrects with a smile. "It's nice to meet you. So, a competition? That sounds exciting. How many dances are you competing in?" he asks Elsie smoothly, and I'm glad he didn't try to pry about my personal life in front of my girl. Then again, I never suspected him for being the rude, blunt type. But, on that flipside, I also hardly know him.
"Three," Elsie answers proudly. "Normally I'm supposed to be in two, but I got bumped up to the junior competition level last month so I'm in an extra dance this year."
"Wow, that's impressive," Darien replies with what seems like genuine interest, and Elsie starts gushing about her routine to Darien when the coffees begin to arrive.
"Well I am sure you are going to do a great job," Darien says as he takes his coffee from the counter. I start to giggle as I watch Elsie blush.
"Thank you," she says as she holds on to her sugary apparition of a drink. "And thank you for my frap!"
"You're very welcome. And you're very polite. It's a great trait to take with you as you get older. Keep it up," he says as he winks at her, only for her to blush further and me start to laugh harder.
"Thank you," I finally say with a smile once the laughter subsides.
"You're welcome," he replies with a rich smile that reminds me of hot cocoa on a chilly day, instantly warming my soul from the chill that they were in originally. Before he turns to leave, he adds "did you do something different with your hair?"
My jaw slightly drops as I stammer a response. "Uh, yeah. Yesterday," I manage to get out as I play with a piece of trimmed, still slightly curled, hair.
He nods. "It looks really nice on you." With that, he pushes the glass doors open, leaving Elsie and I in the quiet lobby of the Starbucks, both of us with a goofy smile on our faces.
I'm about to announce our leaving when Elsie suddenly shouts "that's your BOSS? He's hot!" My face is about ten times redder than it already turned when he noticed my hair, so I respond with a loving shove towards the door.
"What do you know about hot guys young lady?! You're too young for that!" I tease as I effectively push her out the door, laughing as she continues to ramble about how 'drop dead gorgeous' he is.
And she's absolutely right.
A/N: Um. Can I say that you guys are amazing? For the last few weeks, I've been really struggling, wondering if what I'm trying to write was any good. To be completely honest, I thought of abandoning this fic. But you guys, you sweet, kind hearted, supportive guys, helped pick me up and encouraged me to keep going. Seriously, thank you!
This is the last chapter that it's a little dull in the beginning. And to make sure I'm good on my promise, I'm throwing out my buzzword of a preview: holiday party.
Did you like this chapter? Was a little stale? What suggestions to you have? Please let me know!