Chapter 87: Get Yourself a Man Who Is Skilled in the Bedroom and the Kitchen

“God, I hope the parking lot is still as empty as it was when we got in here,” Octavia said.

She closed her eyes and lay back, a sigh escaping her as she felt Raemon’s mouth at her bare breasts.

After having his penis inside of her, thrusting in and out with all the force his incredible body could muster, she had been well and thoroughly fucked.

As he brought his mouth up from her chest and lay beside her, holding her body to his own, Octavia could tell Raemon was content as well.

“I don’t suppose this van is soundproof, is it?”

Raemon chuckled. “Why?”

“I can’t be quite sure…everything was just so intense. But I think I may have…screamed, just a little.”

“A little?”

“Okay…a lot. It was your fault.”

“I know. I’ve spent a long time wanting to have you again like this.”

Octavia’s eyes didn’t leave his face as he brought a hand to her cheek, then let it slide down to her neck and then her breast.

“Seriously?” she asked.

“Octavia, I said it before, and it’s still true. You’re the only one in the world for me.”

“But…what happened when you left? I mean, what did you do?”

“I went to see my mother. To explain things.” As old as the memory was, it still brought a mirthless chuckle to his lips. “She wasn’t too happy about it.”

“I know,” Octavia said. “Right after you left, I got a call from her demanding to know where you were and what I’d done with her son.”

Raemon looked troubled. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

Octavia shrugged. “She was worried about you. And I guess she kind of blames me for…well, everything.”

The scowl still had not left Raemon’s face. “She came to see you, didn’t she? Before that.”

Octavia was quiet for seconds. “…Yes. How did you find out?”

“I spoke with her on the phone some time before…before I came to see you that last time. I told her about us…or what I wanted for us. What I meant to ask you.”

“So that’s why she suddenly showed up.”

“Yes,” Raemon said grimly. “After all of it…when I told her I was selling Icarus and leaving…she told me about your conversation. She claimed you accepted a bribe to end things with me.

“According to her, that was reason enough for me to forget you and not give up everything I’d worked for just because you refused me.”

Octavia frowned. “How much did she say I’d taken?”

“Does it matter? I knew it was a lie.”

“Tell me.”

“Fifty million dollars, I think.”

She grinned. “Nice.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s so good about that?”

“Because,” Octavia said loftily, “if I’m going to be framed as a gold-digging scumbag, at least it should be a scumbag who gets her money’s worth.”

Raemon smirked at this. “Still…I must apologize for what she did. She had no right to.”

Octavia frowned as she recalled Marjorie’s visit.

“I don’t get what she wanted from me. I ended it with you, and then she calls demanding to know where you were and what I’d done. I believe she ordered me to take you back, immediately.”

She sighed. “I just couldn’t win. You freaked everyone out with your disappearing act. You really shouldn’t have given everything up just because of me.”

“I appreciate your understanding, Tavi. But unfortunately, I didn’t give up everything for you.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Shame. It made me feel special to think someone gave up their billion-dollar wealth because I didn’t accept a proposal. And now you say I had nothing to do with it. What will become of my self-esteem?”

“Don’t worry. You did have something to do with it.” Raemon stared deep into her eyes.

“If it wasn’t for you…nothing would have changed. I’d still be the same man. But—I gave up everything for myself. To give myself a chance.”

“I guess that’s somewhat reassuring,” Octavia said. “So what did you do after that? After seeing your mother?”

“I went to see your mother actually.”

“Huh? How the hell did you even find her? And why?”

“Which question would you like me to answer first?”

“The why. Forget the how—that’s not important.”

“As I suspected, your mother is a very wise woman. She had the answer to my question.”

“What question?”

“I can’t say.”

“Why not?”

“Just trust me when I say I can’t say it.” At Octavia’s scowl, he added, “You will know the answer to it in time.”

“Fine. But I must say I’m really getting tired of all the secrets. Can you at least tell me what you were doing while you traveled?”

Octavia listened as Raemon explained what he had been doing in the past months. The tech-mogul billionaire the world had known had vanished.

He had walked out into the world with nothing and survived in spite of having next to nothing for all those months.

The man who had previously had plan upon plan, who had budgeted for all financial situations, and predicted every outcome of the economy…

That man had thrown it all away for a life in which whatever opportunity presented itself to him would be the determining factor of whether he ate that day.

He seemed to have done it all, from doing freelance web design for small businesses in Sierra Leone to hauling sacks of rice to granaries in Thailand.

He would arrive in a town in whichever country, look for some kind of work or lodging, and then after a month or so, pack up the one bag holding all his possessions and head to another town.

When he saved up enough for airfare, he’d move on to another country. Luckily, he was a fast learner when it came to languages. He was able to pick up enough to get by in each country he visited.

But with each new place was a new realm of possibilities, a new story to unfold—a new person for him to become.

“I even managed to track down some of my relatives in Mauritania,” Raemon said.

“Wow,” Octavia remarked. “Have you ever met any of them?”

“No. My mother left the country when she was very young. And both my grandparents had passed away before then. The closest relative I could find was a distant uncle.

“The amazing thing was, even though I was basically a stranger to them, they welcomed me into their home like I was one of their own. I stayed with them for a month.”

“And then you went to Morocco, right?”

“Yes. I found work with a local café owner. I spent a while learning the art of coffee brewing and pouring.”

“It’s an art?”

“In Morocco it is.”

Octavia involuntarily yawned. “That sounds amazing. I would love to experience that some time.”

Raemon smiled gently and pulled her body closer to him again.

“You should sleep, Octavia.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Octavia mumbled, nestling herself against his body. “Wake me up before noon, would you? Or maybe I should set an alarm…”

“It’s all right, I have one set.”

“Mm-kay,” Octavia mumbled, “hope you’re able to break through the insomnia.”

“The what?”

But Octavia had already dozed off and didn’t hear Raemon’s last question.

“Well, well, well,” Gracie said slyly, walking into Octavia’s office shortly after she’d arrived.

Octavia groaned and sunk behind the monitor on her desk.

“What?” she muttered.

“Nothing,” Gracie said. “But, say…isn’t that the same outfit you were wearing yesterday?”

“Maybe,” Octavia snarled.

Gracie stood over Octavia’s desk and smiled.

“I’m guessing you and Raemon spent some time…catching up…last night.”

“Yes, Gracie,” Octavia said, “we had sex in his van. And it was great. And then I fell asleep and spent the night in his arms.”

“He drives a van now?”

“And lives in one.”

“He’s homeless?”

“More or less.”

“Wow,” Gracie remarked. “That’s different.”

“I know,” Octavia said. “He’s different. He seemed more…I don’t know…relaxed. Can you believe it? Raemon. Relaxed?”

“He seemed that way at the coffee shop too.” Gracie shrugged. “Not that it’s a bad thing. Are you going to see him again?”

“Yes. I invited him to my place for dinner,” Octavia said. “We already agreed he’s making the dinner, but I can at least contribute the pots and pans and stovetop.”

“The first time any of them will get used since you moved into the place, isn’t it?” Gracie said.

Octavia grinned. “Damn right. I knew having a fully equipped kitchen would come in handy someday. I was just waiting for a man in my life who would know how to use it.”

Gracie nodded in understanding. “Having a man who can cook is the best thing ever.”

“Right?” Octavia exclaimed. “I’m going to insist he stays over for the night. Then I can get dinner and breakfast.”

“Or he could just move in with you,” Gracie suggested. “Then you can get meals around the clock.”

Octavia sighed and placed a hand on her chest. “That’s always been my dream. A partner with a penis who can cook.”

Later that evening, after she’d stuffed her face with the savory stir-fry that Raemon had made for her, she sat back in her chair with a content smile on her face.

“Oh. My. God.” Octavia announced, “You should be a chef.”

Raemon smiled as he placed the last of the dishes away in the dishwasher, shut the door, and pressed the “on” button. He took a seat next to Octavia at the small table opposite the kitchen island.

“I’m serious!” Octavia insisted. “Forget the barista bullshit and open a restaurant.”

“I like brewing coffee,” Raemon said.

“Then you can serve coffee at your restaurant. Also, since it was my idea, I should get a standing reservation.”

“If I ever think of a career change, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Seriously, though…dinner was amazing. But I think I ate way too much. I feel like I’m going to explode.” Octavia placed a hand on her stomach and frowned.

“Dammit. I don’t even think I can get to my bed.”

Raemon solved this problem by picking her out of her seat and carrying her to her room. When he lay her on her bed, he also climbed in beside her, per Octavia’s request.

At some point during the night, when Octavia felt she had digested enough of her sumptuous dinner, she threw the covers off and told Raemon to take off his clothes while she was yanking her own shirt over her head.

As nice as sex in the back of his van had been, her large queen bed allowed for a more satisfactory fucking, given that there were no dimensional constrictions of the space.

Raemon did his part well, and Octavia hit her peak as many times as she could that night. And then she settled into his arms as she had the night before.

“This was better than when we did it in the van,” Octavia said.

Raemon kissed the back of her neck in response.

“We should do this more often,” Octavia continued. “What are you doing tomorrow morning?”

Raemon chuckled against her skin. “I think I’m available.”

“Great,” Octavia said. She paused. “How about tomorrow night?”

“Yes, Octavia. We can do this tomorrow night too. And every night after that if you want.”

A tingling sensation crawled over her skin as she felt his hand stroking in and out of her inner thigh.

“Can you make me dinner too?”

“I can do that.”

“And breakfast…and lunch?”

“Whatever you want.”

Octavia sighed contentedly. “I could get used to this. Damn it all, you should just move in.”

Raemon did not respond to this, and Octavia twisted her body to face him.

“How about it?” she said.

He wound his finger around a lock of her hair.

“Are you sure?”

Octavia nodded, though it was strange to do with her cheek to a pillow.

“You could just park your van in my driveway,” Octavia said. “And I promise you don’t even need to cook all the time. We can take turns or something.

“On my days I’ll just order a pizza, of course. So…what do you think?”

She felt the words weighing on Raemon’s mind before he said them.

“Octavia, everything I said to you before is still true.”

She said nothing to this.

“I love you, Octavia. And I want to be with you.”

She felt his hand move to her temple, then to her cheek.

“Raemon…I want to be with you too, but…”

“Not as much as I want you.”

Her eyes fell to his chest, unable to meet his gaze. “I just don’t know about that.”

She felt his lips press against her forehead.

“That’s fine. Whatever you decide on, I’ll accept it. I just wanted you to know how I felt.”

Octavia looked up to him again. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

“I want this, Octavia.”

“But what if I never feel anything more for you than what I feel now? Should you accept that?” she frowned.

“And even if that did change, are you sure you’d want to take on that kind of commitment with me? I don’t know if I ever want to get married…and I don’t want kids. Is that something you accept too?”

Raemon said nothing but turned to lie flat on his back, directing his listless gaze to the ceiling.

“I know,” he replied when he finally spoke. “And I do accept that. I…I don’t think I want to be a father. It took some deep soul-searching to realize this…but I know it for sure.”

He took one of her hands in his and held it to his chest as he spoke. “My own father wasn’t the best person.

“What he did to my mother and to me…I’ve been fighting with that for years. I’m still fighting with that—who knows how long till I can put those issues behind me? I’m in no position to raise a child.”

Octavia felt his fingers tighten around hers.

“What about marriage?” she asked.

He turned his head to look at her. “As long as I’m with you, Octavia, that’s enough for me.”

She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. But the crease in her forehead didn’t leave.

“I don’t know,” Octavia said, “it just feels weird. Like it was easier when it was only about sex. But knowing what you feel for me, how much you feel for me…I don’t want to own you or anything.”

“You do own me,” Raemon said, raising her fingers to his mouth and kissing them. “We both know that.”

“But what if something changes? What if…what if I can’t…do this…anymore?”

His casual defeated shrug did not match the despair in his eyes as he imagined that dark, empty future.

“Whatever you decide to do, Octavia, I’ll live with it.”