My Last Resolution

“I wasn’t talking about you.”


“Someone else made you cum within the last hour?”

I take my phone from him and start to walk away, but he pulls me into his arms.

“Did you think of something we could do tonight?”

“We’re not playing Never-Have-I Ever...”

He grins. “I wouldn’t want to play if I were you either. What do you normally do when you’re stuck at home?”

“Write or catch up on work, but snowstorms don’t really come down south that often.”

“Okay.” He lets me go. “Wait here.” He walks away and I take a seat on the couch.

I honestly want to suggest a repeat of what he did to me, but I don’t want to come off as needy. I guess I’ll just replay the feel of his lips over and over again for the rest of my stay here.

If he’s that good with his mouth, I wonder how amazing it would be if we—

“You’re mumbling to yourself...” Blake hands me my laptop. “Do you prefer hot chocolate or coffee?”

“Hot chocolate.”

He disappears again.

Minutes later, he walks into the room carrying two bright red mugs. After setting them on the table, he pulls a stack of files from the coffee table’s drawer.

“Do write with the TV on or off?” He sits next to me.

“On.”

He clicks the remote, and then he pulls me close. “Are you comfortable sitting like this?”

I nod. I am absolutely speechless.

I was expecting him to return with more drinks and another game of sexual innuendos, not work. This doesn’t make any sense.

“Something wrong?” He puts on a pair of reading glasses.

“No, I just thought...”

“That I would f**k you?”

“Do you always have to be so blunt? Didn’t they teach you anything about social graces while you were in school?”

“Is that what you thought, Paris?” he whispers. “Tell me.”

“Yes...”

He smiles, but then he changes the subject. “What type of stuff do you write?”

“Reflective pieces on new laws, culture reviews, things like that.” I pause. “I want to be an investigative reporter. I know I’m getting a late start on that career path, but...I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Your over the top suspicions make perfect sense now.”

“Whatever.” I laugh. “You know, I was too scared to tell Adrian my real dream after we settled in together because I didn’t think he would be supportive of me having a career like that...Now that I look back, I see how crazy it is that I—” I feel his lips on mine and completely forget the rest of that sentence.

When he finally stops kissing me, he whispers against my mouth, “We’re not going to talk about your ex-boyfriend for the rest of this trip.” He stares into my eyes. “That was number two on your list, correct?”

“Yes...”

“I’m going to help you try and fulfill that one too.” He kisses my lips again. “Try to get some work done.”

“Wait. Can I ask you something else?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“What are your expectations as far as us?”

“What makes you think I expect anything from you?”

“Well, aside from the fact that you’ve assaulted my lips, fifteen minutes ago you were putting your head in my...”

“Do you know what that part of your body is called?”

“I know exactly what it’s called.” I still can’t believe he affects me like this. “Anyway, I enjoyed it a lot and—”

“Paris...” He cups my face in his hands. “I told you that I wouldn’t do anything that you didn’t want to do. I meant that. If sex never happens while you’re here that’s fine. If it does,” he says, smiling, “more than fine. But I’m not going to pressure you into it. If you ever want to do that, just tell me. If not, we can just get to know each other better until it’s time for you to go home.”

“Seriously?”

He kisses my forehead. “Seriously.”

Chapter 8

The snowstorm was at its worst last night. The city’s power lines froze over and the amount of snow that fell totaled nine inches.

The skies were pitch black—only lightening to a dusty grey by the afternoon, and unwavering winds whipped against billboards and toppled several trees.

I’m not sure how I ended up in bed with Blake in the middle of the night, but when he’d heard me coming into his room he immediately sat up. I’d expected him to say, “About time you admitted you wanted to f**k me,” but he didn’t.

Instead, he’d pulled back the covers and asked if I wanted to join him. Then, after practically beckoning me to step over to him, he wrapped his arms around me and held me close as the wind continued to shake his windows.

“Over one hundred thousand D.C. residents are currently without power this morning,” the newscaster says, making me roll over. “Emergency crews are trying their best to restore electricity as fast as they can, but if you know someone who is unable to call and report an outage, please call the number on the screen.”

“Hi.” Blake’s green eyes meet mine.