Chronicles of a Lincoln Park Fashionista (20 page)

“Yeah?” he murmurs, bending down and lowering his forehead to mine as his hands wind around my waist.

Oh, I really love the way Deke is a nuzzling, hands-on kind of guy.

“Avery?”

Shit. I really have to quit fantasizing about him or I’ll never have time to live the fantasy.

I put my hands on his leather jacket and gaze up at him. “Do you have protection back in your room?” I ask quietly.

Deke grins. “I knew being prepared for everything would eventually pay off.”

I laugh and he does too. I’m about to hail a cab when Deke stops me.

“No, let’s take a cable car,” he says.

“Cable car?” I ask, furrowing my brow. “That will take longer.”

Deke strokes his hands through my hair and gazes into my eyes.

“We have all night together,” he says.

“I know,” I say. But shit, who can blame me? Deke is
gorgeous
. I want as much time in that fabulous hotel bed as possible with him tonight. “I’m just impatient to be with you.”

“Trust me, you’re no more impatient than I am. But let me show you how much fun a cable car can be,” he says mysteriously.

I manage to nod, though my body is practically on fire now.

We head to the cable car stop and get tickets. When the next one arrives, we hop on. But instead of hanging off the sides, we sit down inside.

As soon as the car starts moving, Deke leans closer to me.

“I don’t care that there are people around,” he murmurs sexily against my ear. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Then he moves his head and presses his lips against mine, sending a shiver of delight down my spine.

Then, the next thing I know, I feel his hands undoing the buttons on my pea coat.

Oh. So this is what he had in mind. A bit of sexy PDA on a cable car. I respond by kissing him again.

Now he’s sliding his hands underneath my coat, along my ribcage, and a jolt of electric thrill shoots through me. The cable car is moving up, up, up and so is my pulse.

“Deacon,” I whisper as we continue to make out.

Now his hands are working the buttons on my little black cardigan. He undoes the bottom two and his fingertips glide across my stomach, across the silver silk camisole I have on.

“Nice,” he whispers against my ear so only I can hear him. “I love silk.”

Ding
! I make a mental Post-It note to go to Victoria’s Secret ASAP and purchase their entire collection of silk panties and bras.

His fingers go no further, just stroking my silk camisole across my stomach, knowing just how much to push the envelope in public to make things sexy, but not tacky.

And as the cable car chugs through the city, we begin a little verbal foreplay.

“What else do you love?” I whisper against his ear.

“The way your lips taste,” he whispers back, “like white chocolate and honey.”

I’m so writing a thank you letter to Lush cosmetics for their lip balm.

“I had a fantasy about you,” I whisper to him. “Do you care to hear it?”

Then I kiss him on the mouth, making him wait before he can answer.

Deke’s hands shift to my ribcage, pulling me closer to him, and he softly moans against my lips again.

“Tell me,” he whispers before we kiss again.

Oh my God. This is already hot and delicious and I can’t even begin to
imagine
what sex is going to be like.

I move back from him so I can see his eyes. “I had to have a pleasant thought before flying. To calm my nerves. And my thought was that you would take this Burberry scarf in your hands, pull me close to you, and kiss me like you are kissing me now.”

Deke grins sexily at me. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” I say, bringing his face toward mine. Then we kiss again.

But this time, I slide my hands underneath his jacket, stroking his sweater, feeling how hard and powerful his body feels. And suddenly, it doesn’t feel so frigid in San Francisco tonight. In fact, I swear, I’m sweating.

The cable car arrives at our stop, and we get off and head over to the Fairmont. We’re barely able to keep our hands off each other as we move through the hotel lobby. There are people waiting for the elevator, so we simply hold hands. But as he holds my hand in his and I feel his masculine skin against mine, I know I’m seconds away from having those hands all over me.

Heat stirs in me once again. Holy shit. I’ve never been this turned on in my life. I honestly don’t know if I can make it to the fifth floor without imploding.

Finally we reach my floor. We hurry toward my room, and as soon as we step inside, coats are flying off. Sweaters are off. Deke is kissing me, frantically, desperately, and we’re working our way back to the bed. He’s now stripped down to jeans and I’m in my camisole and jeans.

But then he abruptly stops kissing me.

“What’s wrong?” I gasp, breathless.

Deke doesn’t say a word. He walks over to where my clothes have been dropped and picks up my Burberry scarf. He comes over to me, gently drapes it around my neck, and just like I described in my fantasy, slowly uses it to pull me into his body.

“Fantasy number one,” he whispers, closing his mouth over mine.

Oh God. Suddenly the difference between sex and making love has crystallized in my mind. For the first time in my life, I’m about to make love with a man. One who cares about my needs and wants and desires.

I’m really about to implode now.

We fall back onto the bed, and I’m gasping for air. This is too much. Too hot. Too steamy. Too delicious for—

“What other fantasies do you have?” Deke whispers against my mouth.

“Foreplay,” I whisper back without thinking.

Suddenly Deke sits up, laughing loudly. “What? Did you just say foreplay is a
fantasy
?”

I see no sense in lying. Besides, Deke is proving very good at fulfilling my sexual fantasies anyway, so I’m throwing my cards down on the table.

“I’ve never experienced good foreplay,” I say honestly. “I’d like to see what that’s like.”

He lowers himself on top of me. “Well,” he whispers, running his fingertips down my cheek, down my throat, to my collarbones, and slowly skimming my left breast and making me gasp aloud before stopping, “luckily for you, I
love
foreplay.”

And then he lowers his mouth to the base of my throat and kisses me sensually, his tongue lightly flickering across my skin.

As we begin to make love, I’m suddenly absolutely, 100 percent certain of one thing.

The best fireworks aren’t over the bay.

And Deke has kept his word, because I’m certain he’s about to show me the time of my life tonight.

Chapter 21

Everything in my world has changed
.

I’m curled up in bed with Deke, my head resting against his broad, muscular chest. The morning sun is filtering through the crack in the curtains, giving me just enough light to see how tanned Deke’s skin looks against the stark white hotel linens.

Oh, I’m so in love with you Deke
, I think, watching his chest rise and fall in rhythm.

And how could I not love him? Well, I was in love with Deke before I slept with him, but last night only made my love deeper. Of course, I haven’t told him this yet—I’m not really
supposed
to tell him first or after only one night together, but that’s how I feel.

I’m totally, helplessly,
madly
in love with this man.

Warmth radiates down my spine as I remember everything that happened between us last night. How I experienced full-blown, romantic, passionate sex for the first time.

And afterward, he didn’t reach for the remote control or turn over so he could fall asleep. He actually wanted to talk. So Deke held me to his chest while we talked and laughed about everything and anything, with Deke showering me with gentle kisses and soft caresses the entire time.

Until we decided it would really be wasting the hotel bed if we didn’t go another round, that is.

I sigh happily as my heat flutters inside my chest. I wish he would wake up. I really would like to kiss him now.

I prop myself up on my elbow, staring at Deke, willing him to open his eyes so I can kiss every inch of his gorgeous face.

But he continues sleeping, oblivious to my need to kiss him again.

Hmmm. Would it be so wrong to wake him up?

I clear my throat.

But Deke keeps sleeping.

Damn it. I try again, clearing it louder this time. Deke slowly opens his eyes, adjusting to the light filling the room, and rolls toward me so we’re facing each other.

“Sorry,” I whisper, smiling at him. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

His eyes crinkle up in the corners as he smiles at me, and my pulse soars in response.

“If you’re bored you can turn on the TV. You don’t have to resort to watching me sleep for entertainment,” he teases.

I laugh and lean over him, kissing his delicious golden skin and thinking I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my entire life.

“Let’s take a later flight back to Chicago,” I say, pressing my lips against his forehead. “And stay in bed until check out time.”

“Nice idea, but we’re confirmed on the noon flight, so we can’t.”

Suddenly my stomach clenches. With all the excitement of being with Deke the past few days, I had kind of been able to forget about the fact that I was going to have to get on an airplane again.

Fear begins to take hold of me. I try to think of a way to stall, as the idea of going through the ordeal of flying again is upsetting me.

“Uh,” I say, swallowing, “maybe we can go back on Sunday instead. We should make a whole romantic weekend out of this, don’t you think?”

“Avery,” he says gently, running his hand along the side of my face, “you don’t have to be afraid. You know you can do this. You’ve flown this week. You can fly back to Chicago. You can.”

“But—” I stammer, wanting to protest. But Deke cuts me off by sweetly pressing his lips against mine.

“You know you can do this. And I’ll be there with you the entire time, just like before.”

Although I’m still afraid, my fear loosens with his words. I know he’s right. I
know
I can do this. And Deke’s belief in me makes me that much stronger inside.

But still, there are a few things he can do to make me a little more comfortable with flying.

“Will you kiss me during take-off?” I ask quietly.

“It’s locked down, Fashionista,” Deke says, grinning at me. He rolls over on to his back, taking me with him.

“And you’ll kiss me on landing?” I ask, biting my lip.

“Yes,” he says, sliding his hands underneath my hair and bringing my head toward his. He begins to kiss me, and fear begins to pale in comparison to the wonderful feelings burning through my body.

I sit up on him, and his hands shift to my hips. I see nothing but desire burning in his Caribbean Sea-colored eyes.

And I realize I’m not about to waste much more time obsessing about flying when I could be making love to Deke instead.

“Okay,” I say, staring down at him. “So you’ll kiss me on take-off and landing. But will you give me Benadryl in between so I can sleep?”

“Whatever you want,” Deke whispers, staring at me. “I’d do anything for you.
Anything
.”

And just like that, my fear has officially moved to the backseat as love for Deke takes over as my primary concern.

God, I do love him. And now seems like a really good time to show him, too.

“Well,” I say, grinning at him as I reach for a condom off the nightstand, “then we’d better get busy if we are going to be at the airport on time.”

By the time we get back to Chicago, its past six o’clock. A summer storm has moved across the lake and into the city, and Deke’s windshield wipers beat relentlessly back and forth so he can try and see out of the windshield.

But despite the gloomy weather, I couldn’t be happier.

I turn to Deke, who has his eyes cast straight ahead in concentration.

“This has been the best week of my life,” I declare joyfully. “Look at everything that has happened. I flew on an airplane not once, but twice. I got my spa basket idea off the ground and people take me seriously at Premier Airlines. And best of all, I found out you like me as much as I like you.”

My heart flutters wildly as Deke smiles in response to my last sentence.

“Well, since you like me, do you want to have dinner tomorrow night? Maybe we could get some sushi and take it back to my place in Wrigleyville. And we could watch a movie or something.”

My spine tingles in delight. I can’t wait to see what Deke’s place is like. What kind of furniture he has, if he has pictures of his friends and family—

“Avery?”

I blink. We’ve come to a stop at a red light, and he’s waiting for my answer.

“Sorry. I was just wondering what kind of furniture you had in your apartment. But yes, sushi at your place tomorrow night sounds fabulous.”

Deke grins broadly at me. “Your brain never stops asking questions, does it?”

I giggle. “Nope.”

We finally make it back to my block, but there’s no parking space to be had in the middle of this downpour. Apparently no one wants to go out in the horrible weather.

“Shit,” he says, stopping in front of my place.

“You can just let me out here,” I say, turning to him. “You don’t need to bring my luggage upstairs for me.”

“Avery—” Deke begins to protest.

“Just put on your hazards for a second,” I say. “Honestly, I can get everything upstairs just fine.”

“I’m at least taking your bag to the front door,” Deke insists. “You just run to the building, and I’ll bring your bag to you.”

Then he jumps out of the Grand Cherokee and goes to the back.

I get out of my seat and grab my purse and coat, sprinting toward the building as the heavy rain soaks my skin. Another crack of thunder roars overhead, making me jump as I reach the front steps and take shelter underneath the entryway.

I turn to see Deke slamming the hatch shut. He carries my bag as he runs up the sidewalk, his white dress shirt clinging to him by the time he reaches me on the steps.

“Really, it will only take me a second to take this upstairs for you,” Deke says, raking a hand through his wet hair.

Mmmm. I’m lost for a moment as I take in how hot Deke is with his wet hair and rain-soaked clothes. I can smell rain and his cologne and the combination on his skin is quite intoxicating.

I quickly clear my throat, as I can’t let my newfound sexual desires take over every thought I have.

“Deacon, please. You don’t want to leave your car in the street with bad visibility. I’m fine, I promise.” Then I lean up on my tiptoes and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. “See you tomorrow?”

Deke gently runs his fingers through my wet hair. Mmmm. I really love the fact he’s a hands-on, affectionate kind of guy.

“I can’t wait,” Deke murmurs, holding me close.

“Me neither,” I say. “Be careful driving home. Text me when you get there.”

“I will,” Deke says, kissing me one more time. “Bye.”

“Bye,” I say. 

I step inside the building, and Deke runs back to his car. I sigh dreamily as I lug my bag up the steps, thinking of Deke’s lips on mine the entire time.

On the way up to the second floor, I see a soaked James and Tate come out of my apartment.

“Hey, Avery, how was San Francisco?” James asks when he sees me.

“Hi, guys. It was
fantastic
,” I say dreamily.

“Good to hear,” James says. “Hey, we’re moving some furniture up for Sasha, so would you mind leaving the door open?”

“Sure, no problem,” I say, moving past him and Tate.

I find Sasha and Bree and Stupid Sullivan in the apartment, all gathered around the kitchen bar counter with Starbucks cups.

“Hello,” I say happily as I practically float into the apartment. “I’m back from San Francisco. Sorry I’m late, Bree.”

Everyone is staring at me. I had texted Bree and Sasha to let them know I was staying a few extra days but didn’t elaborate anything more than that. And that’s why I had invited Bree to meet me over here tonight—so I could tell her all about Deke in person.

“Great day for a coffee run,” I say, smiling. “But today is just a great day, period,” I declare, my exuberance for life overflowing within me.

“Avery? What’s going on?” Bree asks, studying me carefully. “You seem different. You’re glowing,” she says slowly, as if putting together a puzzle. Then her eyes sparkle at me. “Yes, you’re definitely glowing. Did something else besides the presentation happen in San Francisco?”

“I’m in love,” I say happily.

“With who?” Sasha asks, wrinkling her brow. “Some guy you met in San Francisco?”

“No, with Deacon,” I say excitedly, barely able to contain my joy. “I’m in love with Deacon Ryan.”

“Deacon?” Sasha asks. “Who the hell is Deacon?”

“Sasha! You know, the videographer who shoots in our apartment every week. We’re in
love
.”

“Ewh! You’ve had sex with the creepy camera guy?” Sasha cries, a horrified expression passing over her face.

“He’s not creepy,” I say, anger flickering through me.

“You slept with Deke?” Bree asks, sounding shocked and uncertain of this.

“Damn. Little Avery, if you were that hard up you should have stopped by my place,” Sullivan says, leering at me. “But to have to resort to banging your cameraman? Wow.”

I bite back my temper as Sullivan’s voice trails off in disgust.

“I realize this is a shock,” I say, trying to keep my voice even, “but I’ve spent a lot of time with Deacon shooting this show and I’ve discovered he’s an amazing person. And I love him.”

“You can’t love him. You’re repulsed by him,” Sasha spits. “You said he
smelled
bad.”

“What?” I say. “I never said that!”

“Okay, so you said he didn’t wear cologne. Same difference,” Sasha declares. “You also said he had horrible clothes, was rude, and impossible to talk to. With a big zero in the personality department.”

“That was a long time ago!” I snap angrily. 

“Why would you want to date a guy who does manual labor for a living?” Sullivan asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Let Avery talk,” Bree says firmly, trying to help me. “Because if she loves him, I know she has a thousand good reasons why.”

“Thank you,” I manage to say, my voice shaking in anger. I take a deep breath to try and calm down before speaking, but Sasha starts talking first.

“You don’t love him. You don’t even
like
him. And you even said Deke was not the type of guy you’d ever be attracted to,” Sasha says. “And if you are repulsed by him, his scent, his crappy clothes and his hideous personality, you never in your right mind would have had sex with him.”

Then she puts down her coffee cup and grabs me by the shoulders. “Avery, we all know how you haven’t had sex in years. Nobody has to know about this desperate slip you made while on vacation. It’s one
indiscretion
with hired help, that’s all. We’ll all keep your secret. There’s no need for our sorority sisters to know you went dumpster diving for a sexual partner.”

I’m about to let Sasha have it when there’s a loud, angry rap against the doorframe.

I turn around, and my stomach drops out when I see Deke standing there, holding my Burberry scarf in his hand.