Imperfect Love: Hostile Fakeover (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 4

  “Calm down. Let’s call an exterminator to come out and see how bad it is. Maybe the problem is contained to this area.” He pulls out his phone, calling a friend of a friend because that is how Ford Phillips rolls.

  “Okay, they can come out tomorrow. It could be as easy as treating this area or as big as tenting the building. Either way, we are going to stay at a hotel tonight.”

  “I can’t. I don’t have the money, and what about my paintings?” I start to pace the floor. “My gallery. I can’t make the money for the bank if I can’t showcase my collection. Ford…what am I going to do?”

  First a bird and now these pesky little insects that are attacking from the inside out. You never know they are there until it’s too late. Termites, I’m now convinced, are the devil. THE DEVIL!

  “Stay with me.” He’s rubbing my back, calming me.

  I’m not sure if he knows it or not, but all the little things he does, they help, and hell if it doesn’t turn me on more. There is nothing sexier than a guy who knows what a woman needs before she even has to say it.

  “Please?” he begs.

  “Ford, I have no choice. This is the only home I have.” The realization is setting in. “Without this building, I have nothing. Do you understand that?” My breathing picks up as I start to panic again.

  “Shhhh. I do, B. Come to the hotel. Let me take care of you.”

  “I don’t know.” Looking up into his baby blues, I wonder how we got here and why this man is willing to do whatever it takes to make me happy.

  He wants the building.

  “Please.”

  I push down the knowing voices and give in to my heart’s desires. “Okay.”

  Chapter Eight

  Ford

  The building is really starting to shape up, which is hard to believe since we are almost four days behind schedule. The termite issue threw a huge wrench into the mix. Luckily, that area has been contained.

  The only problem is, I need the termites to be a huge problem if I’m going to pull this project off without Bianca finding out. She has enough things to deal with as it is. She doesn’t need to worry herself about this. I have it all under control.

  Digging my phone out of my back pocket, I swipe it to life, “Hey, Derek, I need you to buy us some more time. Yeah. I understand, but can you go ahead and tent the whole building? I know...I’ll pay for the tarping. That’s fine. Yes. I get it. Just bill me, and I’ll take care of it. I know. That works. So, tell me. If we were actually doing this, how long is the process? That’s it? Yeah. I guess it will work. I was hoping to buy more time, but six days will have to do. Thanks, man.”

  Heading to the hotel, I try to find an easy way to break the news to Bianca, that won’t break her spirit...she is already at the end of her rope and I don’t want to unravel her completely.

  My phone buzzes, and I see it’s Celeste. I wish I didn’t have to work with her, but if I’m going to make this club thing work, Bianca can’t know anything about it.

  “Talk.” I answer the phone. Celeste is good at what she does, but she also tries to land every client in more ways than one. I can’t go there. Well, not again.

  “I know you are working on borrowed time, so I stayed up all night working on this.”

  “Thanks, Celeste. I owe you.” I instantly regret the words.

  “Yes, you do. Lunch later in the week?”

  Shit!

  “Celeste, let’s keep things professional.”

  “I’ve been told I’m extremely professional.” She laughs, but we both know she was being serious.

  “I don’t think that is a good idea. Wrong clientele here.”

  “Fine. Lunch on you.”

  “That I can do.” I’m already planning a way out, one that she can’t complain about.

  Everything is finally starting to come together after years of planning. The building is taking shape, the club is just a few weeks from being completed. Now, I just need to find Bianca the perfect place to showcase her art. How hard can that be?

  She’s amazing.

  **********

  Bianca

  Staying in a hotel isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It’s a luxury I didn’t know I was missing. Especially the huge tub. I’ve never seen one this big. I bet you could fit a family of four into this thing. I mean, I wouldn’t want to do that, but if Ford were to walk in right now…I wouldn’t complain if he wanted to join me.

  Filling the tub, I add some of the bubbles I picked up from the small shop downtown. I’m not too big on scents, but this is something so light and sensual that even my nose can handle it without getting a headache.

  Letting my robe drop to the ground, I step in, one foot at a time, testing the water. “Ahhhh.” Sitting down, I close my eyes and take myself back to a time when I wasn’t stressed and Grans was still alive.

  “Well, this is a site I wasn’t expecting, but it’s a welcomed one.” I open one eye to see Ford standing in the middle of the bathroom.

  “I think I’m in love with this tub,” I confess.

  “I can see that.” His brows furrow at the bubbles covering my naked frame. “Looks like you have room to spread out in there,” he adds.

  “I bet you can fit two in here.”

  “Do you think we should check out that theory?” He takes off one shoe at a time as he pulls his shirt over his head.

  Keeping eye contact, he unfastens his pants and drops them to the floor, leaving him in just his black boxer briefs.

  Not being able to help myself, I watch the show. This is a channel I’m not about to change.

  “Eyes up here, B,” he orders as he slowly removes the only piece of fabric separating him from the tub.

  I do as he says, but the moment he springs free, I can’t help but take a peek.

  Oh! My! Lord!

  I’ve felt his skin on mine more times than I can count since meeting him, but to have him on full display for me is an image that I’m imprinting on my brain.

  “B?” He taps my shoulder.

  Mouth open, my eyes meet his.

  “Good. Now, scoot up.” He chuckles.

  I scoot forward and he climbs in behind me, pulling my back to his chest. “Can you hand me that.” He points to the bath gel while wetting the washcloth he grabbed before getting in.

  “Sure.” I lean up, quickly grabbing the gel and falling back, splashing water over the sides. “Sorry.”

  Not sorry.

  Falling back caused me to slip and slide against his body, and instead of sitting in front of him, I’m now on top.

  Someone is happy to see me.

  I inwardly smile.

  Taking the washcloth from my hands, he pours a little soap and lathers it up. “Lean up.”

  Ford slowly massages my back as he washes me clean. Slow and soft is driving me crazy, but as soon as I relax into his touch, he moves to the front.

  Just where I want him.

  Tapping my leg, he points to the side of the tub. Understanding what he wants, I prop my leg up. But just to make sure we are on the same page, I lift the other, getting it out of the way.

  Leaning back, I tilt my head up and give him a wicked smile, daring him to give me what we both want.

  “Is my girl dirty?” he teases.

  Nodding is my only answer.

  His hand slowly works my body from top to bottom, kneading and massaging every muscle. Not exactly what I wanted, but what I needed.

  Loving the feeling of being taken care of, I almost fall asleep, but as I do, I’m suddenly awakened by a slow ache that is building between my legs from the slow, lazy circles Ford is making. Cleaning, caring, loving on me in a way I don’t want to end.

  “Ford…” I beg.

  “Let me make you feel good.” His voice is soft and raw, whispering.

  “It’s…it’s just…oh, God.”

  The pressure is growing inside, the feeling more than I can handle. Throwing my head back, reaching around for his neck, I pull it
down, claiming his mouth, desperately attacking it. Gently biting down on his bottom lip causes him to move more urgently, his hand moving faster and faster. I invade his mouth with my tongue. Tangling it with his, I move it in time with his hand.

  Losing control, I move my hips, trying to find the pressure I need.

  “Ford, please.”

  I reach down and remove the cloth and replace it with his hands, begging him to do the things it can’t. One touch turns me on and sends me over, falling apart at his fingertips.

  After the events of the past weeks, combined with what just transpired, I’m spent. I have nothing else to give.

  As if sensing my exhaustion, Ford stands, grabbing an oversized, fluffy towel from the rack and gently lifts me out of the tub.

  “Let’s get you to bed,” he whispers in my ear as he carries me to the bedroom, laying me tenderly on the bed. He dries every inch of my body. “Get some rest.”

  “But I don’t wanna sleep,” I pout.

  “Turn that frown upside down.” He chuckles, brushing my hair out of my face. He begins to pull the covers up over me.

  “Hold me.”

  Two simple words, but they expose so much.

  With a nod, he dries himself off, climbing in after. He pulls my back to his front, wrapping me in his arms, and our legs intertwine. The gentle caress of his hand on my hair and the rhythm of his heartbeat make my eyes grow heavy and sleep overcomes me.

  Chapter Nine

  Bianca

  Hotel sleep is a lot better than loft sleep. As much as I love my loft and the natural light for painting, a part of me wishes I had room darkening shades so I can make like a bear and hibernate.

  Sitting up in bed, I look at the clock and realize it’s earlier than I thought. “Eight o’clock…sweet.” I’m proud of myself for being a day stalker versus a night walker, and to top it off, I’m not grouchy. Maybe I should couples bathe every night.

  Normally, by the time I wake up, Ford already has called room service and had a pot of coffee and some sort of breakfast delivered, but looking around, I see nothing.

  Where is he?

  Opting for the little coffee pot in the corner, I trip my way through brewing my own special cup that takes about twenty minutes to fix from start to finish.

  Taking a sip, I scrunch up my nose at the bitterness. I think all hotels should have unlimited creamer and sugar. This whole prepackage crap is for the birds. I cringe at the thought of my little bird friend, grabbing my arm to shield it from the phantom bird poo.

  Padding my way to the bathroom, I plot out what I’m going to do today. First on my list: find out where Ford is. Second: find out the status on the building. Every day I’m away from our building, the further out of reach paying off that loan becomes.

  Opening the door, I’m not prepared for what I’m about to see. Ford Phillips, buck naked, doing the willy dance. Did I mention he is naked and that junior is flapping all over the place? Which…for not being hard, there is a lot there to flap.

  Pumping the air, he chants, “Yeah! Yeah!”

  Grunt.

  “You like that?”

  Grunt.

  “You want me to give it to you?”

  Grunt.

  “Oh, yeah! She wants you Phillips!” He makes a model face into the mirror, hollowing out his cheeks.

  Inside, I’m dying. I’m rolling around and pissing my pants this is so freakin’ funny, but on the outside, I’m calm, straight-faced and leaned against the door frame, sippin’ my coffee.

  Holy shit!

  Ford Phillips is making muscles, kissing his biceps. I can’t. It’s coming out. This is the funniest thing I ever have witnessed.

  I clear my throat and set my coffee down on the bathroom counter.

  He stills, looking into the mirror at my reflection. Honestly, I’m not sure how he didn’t notice me before.

  “I-I was…I was….Fuck it.” He turns around, still naked of course, and runs into me like he’s a linebacker tackling his next opponent. He picks me up off the ground like an NFL center and body slams me onto the bed.

  “Just practicing my moves.” He mimics pumping in and out. In and out. Except his movements are doing something. The more he pumps the harder he gets.

  I wonder if I slide my panties a little to the left….

  I shake my head to clear my thoughts, and he collapses on top of me.

  “You weren’t supposed to see that.” He rolls off me, lying flat on his back, and for some reason, I have this strange desire to find out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie-Roll Pop.

  “I just have one question.” I fight to speak through the laughter. “Do you do the tuck as well?”

  “The tuck?” He tilts his head in confusion.

  “You know, like the in the ‘Silence of the Lambs’ where crazy guy who makes clothes out of skin dresses up and tucks his shit, pretends he’s a she?” I hop up in front of him and do my best impersonation.

  “Uh, no!” He sits up and pulls me down on top of him. “Did I scare you away?”

  “Nah!” I tap his nose. “I think you’re a keeper.”

  “Thank God.” Equal parts relief and embarrassment flood his face.

  **********

  After a wild morning of giving it to me, we just lay in bed, chit-chatting about what we have left to do.

  “What’s going on with the termites?” I ask before I have a chance to freak out, again.

  “They have to tent it babe.” He pulls me into his arms, but I instantly push away.

  “It’s not fair.”

  “I know, but just think. You found out now instead of later.” He pulls me back once again. He never lets me get too far.

  “Break it down for me. How many days is this pushing me back?” I can do this. Two days, isn’t so bad, but anything longer and I’m screwed.

  “Five days.”

  “What?” I sit up. “There is no way I can have my showcase if we can’t get the gallery up and going.” The tears begin to flow, a feeling of failure setting in. “It’s over.” Sobs rack my body.

  “B, just trust me. I’m going to have someone pack up all our things and move them to the hotel.”

  “That doesn’t solve the main issue. I can’t sell my paintings if I don’t have a place to display them.”

  “B, I’ll take care of it.” He pulls me back down, comforting me in his arms. “I have friends. I’ll find you a place to have it; I swear. Everything is going to be okay. You just have to trust me.”

  And for once, that’s what I’m going to do. Trust that everything will work out.

  Chapter Ten

  Bianca

  I can’t believe tonight is the night. It’s time for the big showing, and Ford pulled through once again.

  Grans, this is for you.

  “Hey beautiful.” Ford strides toward me with a bouquet of bright wildflowers in one hand.

  “Ford! Do you see this place? It’s everything I wanted mine to be.” I turn around, admiring the warehouse. Somehow, this hunk of metal had a Cinderella moment and was turned into an amazing piece of architecture. Exposed beams, concrete floors stained to resemble marble, and a mix of metals and barn wood give off an eclectic artistic vibe.

  “Well, it should be since it’s exactly your design.” He comes over, wrapping his arms around me and snuggling in close. “It’s a shame we have to turn this back into its original form in forty-eight hours.”

  “We what?”

  “I had men working around the clock to make this happen. I knew how important it was for your work to be showcased in the setting you envisioned…I know this isn’t your gallery, but this is the best we could do in short notice.”

  Tearing up, I turn around as he continues. “B, I know it’s only been a few weeks, but this here.” Pointing between our two hearts. “It’s something good. You know?”

  “Ford, what’s going to happen after all this? When I pay the loan…because I will; my paintings are da shi
t.” I laugh and break free to do a little dance. The energy is starting to build. I just hope it carries over for when potential buyers arrive.

  “Babe, don’t worry about the loan or what’s going to happen. Just know that this here, me and you, isn’t going anywhere.” He grabs me by the hand, twirling me out before bringing me back in for a little dip and claiming my mouth with his.

  I know he says not to worry, but it’s all I can do. The what-ifs are playing in the back of my head.

  **********

  Ford

  As the evening winds down, my hands sweat in nervous anticipation. It’s killing me not telling her, but soon she will know everything. I’m hoping her Grans was right and all this will be worth it, but there is a little part of me that doubts her plan. What if she didn’t know her granddaughter as well as she thought?

  Bianca, as much as she loves little surprises, hates life-changing moments. This will be life-changing once she finds out the truth.

  Feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, I dig it out, hoping it’s Celeste with the news I’ve been waiting for.

  Celeste: Mission completed. Meet me in the back room and I’ll give you the keys.

  Me: The back room of where?

  Celeste: I’m here. At the showing (duh)

  Me: I didn’t think this was your type of thing?

  I instantly regret engaging with her.

  Celeste: You weren’t my type of thing either, but I did you…

  Celeste: Multiple times. Over and over and OVER again!

  Me: Keep it professional.

  Celeste: See you in a few, boss. *winky face*

  Looking around the room for Bianca, I find her in a huddle of people. Everyone wants a piece of her.

  Hands in pockets, I stand admiring her beauty and how far she has come. Feeling my gaze, she turns and smiles while still talking a few remaining guests giving me a little wave.

  Holding up my phone, I use it to point to the back, letting her know I’m stepping out for a minute.

  Heading to the back room, I find Celeste standing there in her too-tight dress and fuck me heels.