At Last (18 page)

She could also remember how possessive she felt over him. That Francesca Costa hanging all over her Kevin!

And now, sitting in a cab, about to head to the restaurant, but stuck at the curb because of gridlocked traffic, she knew what she would have to do.

She’d sleep with him, just once more--it couldn’t be as amazing as she remembered it. It was probably the island paradise making it so...
incredible
was the only word she could think of. It had been the most amazing sex she’d ever had, had ever dreamed of having.

But here, in the real world of Chicago, it would be mundane sex. She’d be over him like that.

Just as the traffic started to part she saw another taxi pull up to the curb and Kevin emerged, looking solid and sexy and divine with his shirt collar unbuttoned. That’s all he’d done to change his appearance since that morning, but it made all the difference.

“I see who I’m meeting,” Susan told the cabby. “Honk for him.”

“No problem.” The cabby honked the horn, and Kevin turned just as he was about to mount the front steps to Susan’s building.

When he saw her, all done up in Liz’s eye popping dress, her legs hanging out the taxi door, the heels making them look long and sexy, his jaw dropped, and his gaze turned noticeably hotter. He licked his lips.

Sleeping with him was not going to be a problem. He was hers for the taking.

Susan slid back into the cab and halfway across the seat, so when Kevin got in she was sitting right next to him. He smelled wonderful, and being so close to him made her skin turn not only to prickly goose-bumps, but hot as hell. If she could’ve, she’d have torn off her dress, it was so hot.

But she decided she’d rather have Kevin do that for her, sometime between dessert and falling into her bed.

Kevin got an odd look on his face. And very subtly he inched away from her and leaned hard against the door of the cab.

That was strange. Susan leaned into him, her hands clutching his arm as she rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much.” She sighed. “I thought we were meeting at the restaurant, but this is so much better.”

For a moment there was only silence. Kevin wasn’t moving, wasn’t speaking. She was pretty sure he wasn’t even breathing. He took a breath closer to a gasp and said, “I’ve missed you too, Suze.” He seemed on the verge of saying something else, but instead let out a near inaudible groan. He told the taxi driver the address Susan had already given him, then turned back to Susan. “We’ve got reservations for Min’s in ten minutes.”

Min’s was Susan’s favorite fancy restaurant. One could order anything from escargot to rack of lamb, fresh seafood that was as exotic as it was delicious, and every conceivable kind of steak. Not to mention Susan’s favorite dish: consolazione, which was Italian for
comfort
. Angel hair pasta tossed with a marinara so rich it made all other pasta sauces taste like tomato juice, topped off with primavera vegetables, grilled chicken that had been marinated in butter and chardonnay, and then covered with mozzarella and baked to a perfect, melted gold.

They also had the best bread in Chicago.

And Kevin remembered her talking about it...

Suddenly the fire that broiled her flesh start licking inside her, making her quiver as she melted against his shoulder. She was going to give Kevin the greatest night of his life. A man who remembered things like that…that was a man worth giving the most lavish of gifts to. And she couldn’t stop thinking how much she wanted to give him herself as a gift.

But just for tonight! Just one last time, that’s all she’d need...just once more in his arms, to get over him...to have him naked against her, to have him hard inside her...

To get over him...

Just thinking those thoughts made her breath come hard and her heart thump in her chest. But every time she thought,
to get over him
, her heart skipped a beat.

She was overly excited. What she needed was a drink, a good meal, and to talk with him like they used to. That, or a cold shower. Or Kevin in a nice long, hot shower with her...

Susan sighed. Not a tired sigh. Not a sigh of contentment. No, the sigh that escaped her lips was feral and lascivious, and downright obscene.

Kevin chuckled.

She straightened, not liking the way he’d laughed at her. She pulled herself from Kevin’s shoulder and settled back into her own rather spacious side of the cab--okay, she scooted over maybe a half an inch, but she wasn’t sitting in his lap.

A thought sparked in her mind, something that had been nagging at her since the moment she’d laid eyes on him earlier that day, and it was that something that brought her out of her little erotic reverie. “Why the hell
are
you working for Francesca Costa?”

Kevin got this uncomfortable look on his face, the kind he used to get when his mother visited in college and asked if he’d meet any nice young ladies. That alone made Susan’s mind kick into hyper-drive. What the hell was he doing with her?

He was about to say something, but Susan cut him off, purging the rampant thoughts that had burst like fireworks in her mind. “And why the hell didn’t you tell me you were coming to town…or have you been in town? And why haven’t you called me? And why…” There were just too many things she wanted answers to. But one bloomed bright and hot in her mind. “And why the hell are you trying to poach my opera house from me?”

Susan had expected him to throw up his arms and surrender. She expected him to tell her there was nothing happening between him and Cougar Costa. And she certainly expected him to tell her he’d back out of the running for the opera house. But he didn’t do any of that.

What he did do was laugh at her, which infuriated her to no end. But he did have these sexy little crinkles around his eyes when he laughed, and that was playing havoc with her concentration.

“First off,” he said once he’d stopped laughing, “the opera house job is up for bid. It’s not anyone’s opera house yet, so don’t even try staking some sort of claim.” His gaze bore deep into hers, capturing her very soul for an instant in its heated embrace. “And as for me working for Francesca Costa…that’s none of your business.”

Susan gasped, opening her mouth to yell at him. None of her business. How could him sleeping with that woman not be her business? Another thought sparked to life in her mind, this time like a giant, fiery disco-ball
. I’m not going to seduce him for just a night. I’m going to steal him back from that lecherous, Gucci wearing alley cat.
Susan smiled coolly as she settled back into the seat of the taxi cab.
You’re mine, buddy. Just you wait, you won’t know what hit you.

In no time they were at Min’s, and Kevin helped her out of the taxi. She liked the feel of his warm, strong hand in hers. Yet he had taken that hand back far too quickly. She wanted to hold onto that hand at least for another couple of hours. But he did take her arm--a rather gallant, gentlemanly thing to do. Yet Susan didn’t want him to be a gentleman. She wanted him to be a beast. The insatiable beast she’d known on the island, the beast with hot hands and hunger in his eyes.

What she got was her chair pulled out for her, and he sat on the other side of the table. She had thought he would move his place setting closer to her, on her side of the now seemingly enormous table at which they’d been seated. He’d always moved his place setting to be nearer to her, even before Cancun. Why wasn’t he doing it now?

He smiled at her, but it was the tensest smile she’d ever seen. He picked up his menu and nervously started flipping through it. “What’s good here?”

“Everything.” Susan just stared at him, trying to get a read on him. “I’m partial to Warm Comfort.”

Kevin’s eyes went from reading the menu to bulging out at Susan.

“It’s a pasta dish on the menu. It’s in Italian.”

“Oh,” Kevin said, his face turning a lovely shade of pink as he brought his attention back to the menu, nervously tapping his fingers against the leather binder.

Susan couldn’t hold herself back another moment, she had to get him in the mood, had to let him know what she really wanted. Not food, but him!

She slipped her shoe off and started to snake it under the table in his direction. It seemed to be an awful long distance; she thought for a moment that her leg would not be long enough, but then she felt the loose fabric of his slacks.

“Susan…”

When Susan looked up into Kevin’s eyes they were so serious she felt her heart stop, and her foot snuck back over to her own side of the table and back into her shoe.

They sat there for an odd, silent beat, and Kevin said, “I’m glad we can be just friends again.”

Friends? Just
friends again? Sure, right after this one last time
...

“I mean, I was so afraid we’d be all different. And I want what we had back.”

Sure, she’d missed that too. But just consider the pros of having one more night to say goodbye...for closure on that part--that wild, crazy, hot, wonderful part.

“Because I’ve moved on.”

Say what?

“So you don’t have to worry about me. No more walking on eggshells around me, wondering if I’m still carrying some kind of torch for you. Not anymore. I’m over it.”

Susan had a hard time making out what Kevin was saying for a moment, as if he was either speaking in a foreign language or her hearing was abruptly failing her. What Susan made out sounded to her like “I’ve moved on. I’m over you.”

It stung. No, it more than stung, it hurt. Those words stuck in her gut like a knife. Somewhere inside she was sure vital parts of her were cracking, shattering into sharp, brittle bits.

He’s over me
.

Susan’s mouth was so dry she couldn’t form even the smallest of words, and her throat was so tight that she was sure she’d lost her voice. As she reached for her water glass, she silently prayed that the waiter was secretly a homicidal lunatic and had laced her water with fast acting poison.

Let it be swift
.
She brought the water to her lips, chugged the entire glass straight down and sat there, staring at the emptiness that was left, waiting for the effects of the poison to take hold.

Nothing happened.

Kevin was silent on the other side of the table, and Susan could tell he was staring at her, waiting, probably, for her to say something. Had he still been talking about the wonders of friendship? Or had he moved on to other, more jovial subjects, like where she wanted to be buried? Whether she’d like to be cremated? What kind of stinking flowers would she prefer to have at her freaking wake?

She swallowed hard and slowly tore her gaze from her empty glass to look at Kevin.

His expression was one of concern. Worried, that was the word for it. He’d discerned Susan’s looming psychotic break and was now pondering if he should take her to the psych ward himself, or call for the goons in the white jackets.

The goons would have heavy, maybe even lethally strong drugs with them.
Call the goons.
She was going to need the heavy drugs.

Kevin reached across the table and patted Susan’s hand. “So we’re good?” he said, looking deeply into her eyes.

Still no words could find their way into Susan’s mouth. All she could manage was a crisp nod of her head and the stiffest smile she’d ever faked.

He squeezed her hand, his warm flesh on hers, and smiled brilliantly as he took his hand away and leaned back in his chair. “Thank God. That’s a weight off.” He looked so relieved.

How could he look so relieved? How could not being with her make him so...happy? Susan had the urge to kick him, hard, in the balls. How happy would he look after she did that?

Just then the waiter sauntered up to the table and started expounding on the intricate delicacies of that night’s specials. His whole spiel sounded like utter gibberish to Susan.

“Cosmo,” she interrupted the waiter. “Straight up. And keep them coming.”

LATER, SUSAN COULDN’T RECALL
one word Kevin had said, except, “I’m over you...I’ve moved on.” She couldn’t remember what she’d said. All she could remember was sitting there thinking, over and over again, that this wasn’t happening.

He wanted her, he’d always wanted her. How could he just decide he didn’t want her anymore? And that whole “still friends” thing, what was up with that? Was he trying to pretend nothing had ever happened?

That was supposed to be
her
line! Susan was supposed to be the one to get over Kevin. She was supposed to sleep with him one last time and magically get over him. To get over him, not the other way around!

Now, sitting in the taxi, sliding through the practically abandoned night streets of Chicago, Susan kept thinking about the other part of what Kevin had said. Not the “I’m over you” part, but the “I’ve moved on” part.

Moved on to what? Moved on to whom?

And then it hit her. Moved on to Francesca Costa!

“That bitch,” Susan said through gritted teeth.