"So you're saying the house was our best bet and we lost it?"
"All I'm saying is that the house isn't in play anymore." He accelerated as the light turned green, but he looked over at me briefly. "I'll find something, Lena. I promise." He squeezed my hand. "I've got a few more ideas," he said, not elaborating. I didn't push, either. I trusted him to do his job. I was instantly reminded that this was a job to him. I wasn't sure how I felt about that anymore. I'd hired him as a private investigator to help me make a clean exit from my marriage, but in the last few days everything had changed. Now, at least for me, it felt as if he was helping me escape my marriage for different reasons. Perhaps, I hoped, because he wanted to be with me, free from Derrek and his twisted ways. But, to be honest, I wasn't sure what Preston wanted after all this was over.
"Where are we going?" I asked, suddenly aware we were not heading to my house.
"My place."
"Preston," I began.
"This isn't up for negotiation, Lena. You're coming with me back to my house. We're going to have dinner and you're going to tell me what happened this morning."
"I need to go back to my house tonight."
"No. You don't."
I didn't bother arguing with him. I knew he'd never give in. Instead, I turned my head and looked out the window, watching the city pass us by as we headed into the hills to the west. As his Lotus wound through the tree-lined roads that led to his house, I started to feel tired, the events of the day obviously taking a toll on me. I yawned as we pulled into his garage and stifled another one as he led me into the house by the hand.
He walked me into the bedroom, the sheet and comforter still a mess from our weekend together, and walked me to the bed. He gently urged me to sit down and then knelt down and moved closer to me until he was just a breath away.
"I missed you today," he whispered, his eyes moving back and forth from my eyes to my lips.
"Preston," I started, wanting to tell him I missed him, too, wanting to talk about what was going on between us, but I was stopped when his lips closed the distance and pressed up against mine. It was the softest, sweetest, slowest kiss I'd ever had, and it both excited me, my pulse thumping harder and harder, and also made me sleepier. They were a strange kind of drug, his kisses.
"Lie down, sweetheart. Take a nap. I'll get dinner situated."
A smile twitched on my lips. "You don't cook."
He matched my smile and his hands slid up my thighs in a sweet caress. "I said I'd situate it, not make it. Do you prefer Chinese or Indian food?"
I leaned forward to kiss him and his hand moved to the back of my neck, taking the kiss deeper than I intended, but I wasn't about to argue with him.
"Chinese sounds good," I said against his mouth when the kiss finally ended. He smiled and kissed me quickly one more time before he stood up and walked out the door, flipping off the lights as he left.
I looked around the room and felt surprisingly comfortable. I stood and peeled off my work clothes, settling in the bed in just my panties and bra, loving the feel of his soft sheets against my skin. It didn't take long for me to drift away, surrounded by the scent of Preston as I pulled his pillow into my chest.
When I woke, it was to a gentle hand brushing against my cheek. My eyes fluttered open and I saw Preston's face leaning over me and his body next to mine. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand pushing my crazy hair from my face. I stretched, much like a cat waking up from a long nap, and the way my muscles had been tightly coiled all day with stress, the stretching felt magnificent.
As I stretched out in Preston's bed, I noticed his eyes wandering down the part of my body not covered by the sheet. He was getting a pretty decent view of me in barely any clothing and I loved the way his eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. His finger came up and gently pushed the sheet further down, revealing that all I had on under the sheet were panties.
"Is dinner ready?" I asked with mock innocence. He narrowed his eyes at me and they blazed with lust. I thought it would be fun to tease him, but all I managed to do was turn myself on as well. As his eyes moved from mine, they ran down my body, leaving a hot trail as if he were actually touching me. I couldn't help but squirm under his gaze, feeling the heat from him move over me.
"Do you always wear underwear this sexy to work?" His eyes were still lingering on my body as he asked his question, and I felt goose bumps rise on my skin.
"I always wear nice things under my clothes." My voice was shaking slightly. I swallowed and tried to sound less like a scared little girl. "It makes me feel sexy if I've got something nice on under my clothes; like I'm keeping a secret no one knows about."
"Well," he said, his eyes moving back up to mine. "I know your secret now and I agree. It is very sexy." With no more words between us, he stood up and walked into his closet. Surprised by his hasty exit, I pulled the sheet up over my breasts, trying to cover the sight I thought he had just been enjoying. When he came out, he had something in his hands. He came back to the bed and held it out to me. I recognized the fabric and gave him a questioning look. He shrugged. "I stopped by your house earlier while you were still at work and picked up some of your things. I didn't want you to be uncomfortable while you were here and even though I'd love to stare at your body dressed up in satin and lace all fucking day long, it's not conducive to a productive lifestyle."
I grinned at him as I put the familiar nightgown over my head and threaded my arms through the short sleeves. There was a time, even just days ago, when him being in my house without me would have sent off all kinds of alarms in my mind. But now, to the contrary, I felt his urge to break into my house to get me the things that would make me comfortable sweet. He held his hands out for me, pulling me up to him, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"Damn," he said as he pressed his lips to the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. My hands instantly found their way into his hair.
"What?" I whispered.
"I thought if I brought you the most modest piece of sleepwear I could find, it would make me want you less." I giggled and then gasped as his tongue flicked out to lick my skin. "Turns out," he said as he nipped at my neck, "it doesn't matter what you've got covering you, because I can still see every single inch of you in my mind. The nightgown is just teasing me, asking to be taken off."
"Preston," I rasped, his hands moving from my waist to my ass, pulling me against him, pressing his erection into me.
"You hungry, baby?" he said, as if he weren't currently pawing at me.
"Yes," I groaned. I was hungry for him. For us. For all of it. He gently bit my neck, trailed his teeth up to my jaw, and then traced the edge all the way to my chin, where he ended with a tiny kiss.
"Let's go eat dinner then." His hand found mine and before I could protest he was pulling me from the room and down the hall toward the kitchen. I followed without objection, but I wore a frown until I saw the smorgasbord of Chinese food waiting on the dining room table. "I didn't know what you liked, so I might have gone overboard and ordered a little bit of everything."
"You didn't have to do all of this. I would have been happy with some rice and crab puffs."
"I'd do anything to make you happy," he said, all playfulness gone from his voice. I turned and saw the lust gone from his eyes. The only expression he wore was one of earnest. I smiled at him, loving the way he chose to care for me.
"I'm beginning to realize that." I pressed my hand to his cheek, gently rubbing my thumb against his skin. I leaned forward and kissed him chastely. "Thank you for dinner," I said, my forehead pressed against his.
"You're welcome. Come on. Sit. Let's eat."
As we ate the Chinese food, which we'd never be able to finish because it could have fed an entire Chinese village, I realized there were fundamental things I didn't know about Preston. When we first met, he asked me quite a few questions about myself and I never really reciprocated because asking questions wasn't part of my job. But now, as I sat across from him at his dinner table in my nightgown, it became apparent there were things about him I wanted to know. Things a woman should know about the man she's sleeping with.
"Preston?"
"Yes, baby?" he said as he dropped a dumpling in his mouth from his chopsticks.
"Will you tell me about your family?"
He swallowed and took a sip of his water, but then he gave me a questioning look. "What exactly do you want to know?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. General stuff. How many siblings you have, whether you got along with them, if you see them often, if you're close with your mom and dad. Stuff like that." I took a breath, not realizing I would be nervous asking him about himself. "I just feel like you know a lot more about me than I know about you. I want to know you."