Page 44 of Hale Yes (Highway to Hale #1)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The state of my asshole
Nicolette
Helix Hale lives in a palace. I’m aware the entire Hale family is loaded. After all, the cosmetics industry is highly lucrative, but holy shitballs. This is like rich rich.
“You can wait in the living room or the solarium,” he tells me as we traverse the beautifully outfitted kitchen, where we entered from the six-car garage.
“No parlor?” I ask because I’m a smartass.
His lips hike up at the corners. “It’s on the other side of the house. I’ll be changed before you can walk there.”
I sigh dramatically. “Perhaps you should provide indoor golf carts so your guests won’t be inconvenienced when they want to have a mint julep and tea cakes in the parlor,” I tell him in my best southern belle voice.
He swats my ass. “It’s this kind of attitude that’s going to get you turned over my knee.” Um, yes please! Helix kisses my forehead and instructs, “Go wait in the living room. It’s the most comfortable.”
We exit the kitchen, pass through a short hallway, where I can see the arched opening to a formal dining room on the left, and enter the marble foyer. “It’s right through there.”
He points and then heads up the curving staircase. I find the living room—honestly, it would be hard to miss because it’s the size of a car dealership—and am pleasantly surprised by how cozy the large space feels.
The base colors are black, white, and gray, though there are pretty splashes of color added in the throw pillows, rugs, soft blankets draped over black leather furniture, and modern artwork.
The floor is shiny gray wood, and the walls are painted a stark white with crown molding.
Arched windows allow morning sunlight into the room, and I don’t see a speck of dust anywhere, though there is one corner with a small cluttering of toys, including a pink tent I assume is Reece’s.
I’ve barely made one round around the space before I become aware I’m not alone.
Turning, I see Helix standing beneath the high arch, casually leaning a shoulder on one of the columns that’s wider than the big man watching me.
He’s wearing navy shorts, boat shoes, and a baby-blue V-neck tee that molds to every one of his muscles.
He’s totally pulling off the preppy-but-athletic vibe.
“Does it meet with your approval?” he asks with a sardonic grin.
“It’s absolutely beautiful.” My eyes go back to the piece I was admiring on the wall. It’s abstract, but the longer I look at it, the more I can make out faces within the mishmash of colors. “I love this one.”
He strides over and stands beside me, his hands in his pockets as he gazes up at it. “The style is called ink wash. It was done by a local artist who reportedly has the same kind of synesthesia as me. I saw it at a gallery, and it felt like it wanted to come home with me.”
“Did you pick out everything in here?” I’m a bit surprised because it looks professionally done.
He chuckles. “I picked out all the black-and-white stuff when I bought this place. I thought it would be functional, you know? Reece was two, and when Phoenix brought her over for the first time, she told me, and I quote, ‘It’s not very pitty, Uncle Helix.’ She just looked so serious and a little sad for me. ”
I can’t help but laugh. “So you hired someone to make it prettier?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Actually, I took Reece with me to an interior design studio where you can choose your own items. Kind of a fancier version of Home Goods.”
My heart is smiling so hard right now. “You let your toddler niece be your interior designer?”
“I mean…” He shrugs. “They have consultants there to guide you, so it’s not like I just let her run around grabbing everything in sight. The guy thought it was adorable and gave her choices, kinda like do you like this painting or this one to go over the fireplace? The kid’s got a pretty good eye.”
“She does.” I look back at the ink wash art. “This is my favorite though. I can feel you in this painting.” When I look back at him, his gaze is intent on my face. Then he pulls me to him by my hips and kisses me hard on the lips.
“You ready to go eat? I promise I’ll bring you back for a full tour some time, but I’m starving right now.”
I pat his chest. “Well, we did work up quite an appetite last night.”
“I’ve never brought a woman to my house.” He drops that little bombshell on me and then hops out of his vehicle, this one a black Range Rover, and comes around to open my door.
“Why?” I ask.
“I don’t date,” he says. “And I won’t bring anyone into my home if I’m not dating them. It’s my personal space.”
I’m equal parts flabbergasted and confused. He doesn’t date. He doesn’t bring women to his home. And yet he brought me today. Was it just for convenience’s sake so he could change clothes for brunch? Or are we dating now? I have no idea what to think or if I even want to date Helix.
You do , my brain and heart say at the same time. My vagina chimes in with a very tired thumbs up of agreement. Poor old girl has been put through the wringer in the past few days.
I need clarity and maybe a second opinion from someone that hasn’t been fucked by Helix Hale because all my body parts are completely enamored. So I excuse myself to the restroom when we get inside the restaurant, which is called The Good Egg.
Punching Lehra’s name on my phone, I wait for her to pick up, but it goes straight to voicemail. Dammit. On a whim, I decide to leave her a message, so I blurt out the whole thing, my words coming rapidly.
“Hey, girl, it’s me, and I’m in the bathroom of a restaurant. I. Need. Advice. ASAP, so I’m leaving you this message. If you get it in the next few minutes, call me back. Otherwise, shoot me a text because I’m going to sit down for brunch.”
I take a deep breath and begin to pace around the lounge area of the bathroom.
“So, long story short, we finally had sex last week. And girl! It was… Jesus, I can’t even tell you how good it was.
He has this enormous dick, and the man knows how to use it.
And his tongue? It should be declared a weapon of mass satisfaction.
To put it bluntly, he ate me out, bent me over, and fucked my damn brains out.
I’m pretty sure he bruised my cervix, but I liked it.
“We decided it was going to be a one-time thing, like a fuck you out of my system and move on type of deal. He said he doesn’t do relationships so that was all he was after, and I agreed, right?”
I flop onto the velvet settee and lean back, one wrist over my eyes.
“Okay, so we went out last night, like we always do on Friday nights. I told you about that, right? Anyhoo, we already discussed it beforehand. We were going to ride together for the environment or something, and then he’d take me straight home.
So we went to an amazing show—tell Artie he would have loved this show, like, for real—and on the way home, his hand brushed against my thigh.
I was wearing those black fishnets I got last time we went shopping, remember?
The super soft ones? Oh, I was also wearing that black blazer dress, and girl!
If I do say so myself, I was looking fierce. ”
Pulling my feet onto the little sofa like I’m at a therapist’s office, I cross them at the ankles and speak even faster.
“But back to the story. A minute later, he ran the backs of his fingers over the fishnets again and asked if they were thigh-highs. I told him there was only one way to find out. Eeee! Can you believe I fucking said that? He got this look in his eye, and the next thing you know, his fingers are in my panties, and he made me come… while he’s driving down the damn road!
“When we get to my house, I’m about to ask him if he wants me to return the favor, but then he pulls me out of the car and picks me up like I don’t weigh a thing.
Is there anything hotter than that? Dear god, you have no idea!
Well, I guess you do because Cruz is a big ole boy, and I know he likes to toss you around. ”
The phone beeps a notification that the voicemail has ended, and I push off the settee, needing to walk off some of this frantic energy. I redial and jump straight back into my tale.
“Sorry, it cut me off. So the man tied me up and completely disrespected every inch of my body. It was full-on bougie sex, girl, nothing vanilla about this guy. He’s completely depraved.
We went at it like rabbits three times, Lehra.
Three! Never in my life have I witnessed such a thing.
That one dude I dated, Carl? You remember that fool?
He needed a two-day turnaround before he could have sex again.
The dipshit tried to tell me that was just how biology works, like I don’t have more than one fucking biochem degree.
“Shit, I’m getting off-topic. Where was I?
Oh yeah, he fucked me so good it makes my asshole clench up just thinking about it.
Etcetera, etcetera. So on to today… he said we should go to brunch and talk about labels.
We stopped by his house so he could change clothes, and when we got to the restaurant, he just casually mentioned he’d never taken a woman to his house before and that it was his private personal space, and he’d only ever take a woman if he was dating her. ”
I stare at a wide circular pattern on the carpet and begin walking its perimeter, wringing my free hand nervously.