Page 34 of Dirty Money
A laugh erupted from her. “No! No, of course not. I mean a relationship. God, you’re funny, West.”
“West?” he asked as he pulled back onto the road.
“Yeah, you call me a name no one else does. I want to have a name I can call you. And you’ve called me peach twice.”
“You recall how many times I’ve done that?” he asked as he smiled with the thought.
“I pretty much recall every word you’ve said to me,” she said then put her hand over her mouth. “Damn! It seems champagne is a lot like truth serum.”
“With you, it seems to be. I’ll remember that for the future when I need to get something out of you,” he said with a chuckle.
“The future,” she muttered to herself. “I’ve never had a future with anyone. It’s weird. But a good weird. West, are you sure about this? I mean, I’m a poor, little, art student with an obvious penchant to be introverted and kind of closed off most of the time. And you, well, you’re cool, sexy, smart, funny, and most likely great at having sex. I’m not saying I’m bad at it but I can just tell that you’re great at it. I’m sure to disappoint you.”
“You won’t. And I don’t want you to sell yourself short about anything. You see yourself one way and I see you in this light. When I look at you, I see a gorgeous, yet she’s unaware of the fact, young woman with a talent that’s sure to see her make her dreams come true. If she can let the self-doubt go and see herself for who she truly is.”
“What am I, truly, West?” Her steely eyes bore into him as she thought he might have the answer she’d been looking for.
He took her hand as another red light had him stopping. His eyes held hers as he said, “You are a rare person, my little peach. You have the light of the world inside of you, fighting to get out and show you what it can do. Trust in yourself. There’s more to you than you can even comprehend. I see it. I see it right there, shining in your eyes. And I want to see it out in the open one day very soon. I want to see that light fill you and take you over. It will take you to heights you never knew of before. And I want to be there for every step of your amazing journey, Aulora.”
She breathed in and held the breath as she looked into his golden eyes. “Are you some kind of an angel, sent to help me, Weston Calloway?”
“I think that about you, Aulora.”
The way their eyes held told them both something magic could happen if they’d only allow it to.
Wearing one of Weston’s T-shirts, Aulora sat on the floor of the guestroom in the Upstate New York mansion Weston called his home. A piece of apple pie lay in a white Styrofoam box in front of her and she poised her plastic fork over it to take the first bite of it.
Dinner had been a cheeseburger and fries that she’d scarfed down while sipping on a chocolate shake as they watched some movie on the large flat screen in the giant bedroom.
She’d paid little attention to it as she and Weston joked and chatted lightly as they ate the food he’d bought just before they got to his place. Aullie tried not to get her panties in a wad over the many cars there were when they pulled into the garage. Mercedes, Porches, BMW’s were parked right alongside the beat up, orange bug he’d first picked her up in.
She’d told herself it wasn’t his fault he was born into wealth and his father actually loved him.Unlike hers.It wasn’t his fault that the entry floor was made out of marble and the giant staircase was made out of shiny mahogany wood. So similar to where she’d grown up.
A pain ran through her heart when she went into the bathroom attached to the guest room he’d put her in when he gave her the T-shirt and told her to change while he went to change too and that he’d join her in the guest room shortly. The Italian tile that was used in the bathroom was the same tile that was used in her parents’ bathroom back in the mansion they’d lived in before her father sent them to live in a small apartment in Queens.
She choked back the lump that had risen in her throat and looked at her reflection.
“It’s not West’s fault the same tile has been used in the bathroom of the guest room he decided to put you in, Aullie. Get over yourself. Yes, you had money once. More money than you knew what to do with. But that’s gone now and Weston Calloway is not to blame for that. Charles Wohrl is.”
She’d washed the heavy makeup off her face and brushed her hair out then went back into the bedroom that was larger than her entire studio apartment. There she found Weston, wearing a T-shirt that matched the one he’d given her to wear and a thin set of pajama pants.
His feet were bare and even they were perfect. She’d pranced up to where he’d made a carpet picnic and sat, Indian style, next to him. He’d turned on the television and put on some movie, she paid no attention to.
“I think you’ll like the burger. They use real, one hundred percent pure beef.” He placed the burger on top of the brown paper bag it had come in and emptied the container of fries on the opposite side. “Ketchup?”
She nodded and before she knew it, they’d eaten everything up, except the one slice of pie he’d bought for them to share. Even though it was a million-dollar mansion they were in, it felt like an intimate place where money didn’t matter.
Their plastic forks collided when they both went for the pie at the same time. They laughed and had a small fork fight before he let her win. She stabbed the first bite then held it to his lips. “You get this bite.”
His golden eyes sparkled as he opened his mouth and took the bite she’d offered him. Then he stabbed the next bite and fed it to her. Bite by bite, they fed one another until there was no more pie and no longer was he worried that alcohol was ruling over Aulora’s brain. Pushing her shoulders, gently, he eased her to lie back on the soft carpet.
Brushing her raven hair back, he gazed at her as she did him. “You’re beautiful.” He kissed her shoulder after he pushed the T-shirt away from it.
“As are you,” she whispered as she ran her hands over his shoulders and then down his arms.
His lips were warm upon her skin, her body was filling with desire, the playfulness was long gone and a heat was beginning to creep into places it hadn’t been before.
As he kissed trails over her skin, up her shoulder to her neck, his hands moved over her body, caressing her with a softness she’d never known. He was great at that. Better than anyone else had ever been. She knew he’d be great at sex. And she was less worried about how she’d be at it with him.
