Private Pleasures (11 page)

There was something in his voice, a note of possession she wanted to ignore but that thrilled her nonetheless. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, shifted a little against him and felt her sexual languor begin to dissipate at the feel of him still so hard and deep inside of her.

Her pussy gave him a little squeeze, eliciting a grunt of pleasure as he threw his head back, his jaw clenched tight. She started to move, a subtle little rocking, but he held her hips fast. "No, not yet. I want to enjoy you for a little bit longer."

Her stomach did a little flip at his choice of words. "enjoy you." not "enjoy this" or even "fucking her" but "you." When was the last time, she wondered fleetingly, any of her lovers had truly enjoyed her.

She shoved the thought away as silly and gave herself a mental kick. Surely there was a joke about how only a lawyer could be so analytical even during sex.

Then the thought was gone and she wasn't capable of thinking about anything but his big, hard hands cupping her breasts, bringing her nipples to his mouth to lick and suck. He sucked her hard, closed his teeth over her until pleasure danced on the razor's edge of pain.

Her body came back to searing life as her pussy clenched tight with every firm draw of his lips, milking, squeezing, urging him to move and stop the torture.

Finally he did, his hips rocking underneath her, driving his cock in short, deep thrusts, barely moving. She ground against him, pressing her clit against the ridge of his pubic bone as her hips circled, on him in a delicious counter rhythm.

Everything came into sharp focus. The hot sun, the salty breeze, the sounds of the waves lapping on the beach mingling with their harsh breath and low moans of pleasure. She watched a bead of sweat roll from Drew's hairline down his cheek. She was so close she could see every pore in his skin, each whisker that darkened the line of his jaw. She looked down and watched the hard, hair-roughened muscles of his chest graze the red tips of her breasts. The pale skin of her stomach brushed his ridged abs.

And lower, where their sexes pressed as though fused together.

He gave another thrust, she gave another squeeze, and then he bucked hard, his muscles pulling tight as his cock twitched and pulsed inside of her.

Watching his face, his body's reaction, feeling every throb as he came buried deep inside her body, set off another wave of pleasure inside of her.

It was like nothing she'd ever felt before, as though his pleasure not only sparked hers but became hers, making her cry out as she trembled and shuddered around him in a release that was even more powerful than the first.

Drew gathered her against him and settled his back against the back of the lounger as they both struggled to catch their breath.

His big hand splayed across her back and she tucked her head under his chin.

"That was...." he started.

"Yeah," she breathed in response.

"I don't remember the last time I came that hard," he said, as much to himself as to her.

"Me too," Wendy replied, taking stock of her still shaking limbs, her skin that was still ultra sensitive under his hand. Her eyes drifted shut as she thought back to those last, amazing moments, when he'd been so deep inside her, the way their pleasure seemed to meld and merge, making everything more intense, more amazing. "I've never felt so...."

Connected.

She snapped her lips closed before the word escaped. No, no, there was no connection here, or feelings to explore or any of those other horrible cliches that made up ninety percent of the dialogue on dumb shoes like
The Bachelor
. So even though Drew had been sweet to her—oh, God, who would have thought the words "sweet" and "Drew" would occur in the same phrase in her head—taking her snorkeling, and even though he'd completely rocked her sexual world with not one but two amazing orgasms, there was no room for any connection here.

It wasn't even like they were friends. Come to think of it, she wasn't even sure if she liked him. She frowned at the thought, wondering what that might say about her.

Then again, she wasn't even sure he liked her that much. Who cared?

Not her, she told herself, though the pit that settled in her stomach at the thought said otherwise.

"Hmmm, you're starting to get a little pink," Drew murmured against the top of her head as he pressed his fingers lightly against the skin of her shoulder. "We should—"

Wendy pushed herself up from his chest, cutting him off. "I need to get going anyway. They'll be back soon—"

"They'll be gone for at least two more hours," he said.

"Yeah, well, I should check my email and see if anyone has responded to my comments," she said, scrambling for a towel, suddenly self conscious as she felt the bright sun on her naked skin, completely exposed to that icy, penetrating gaze.

Drew stood up, completely unfazed by his own nudity as he made a quick detour to dispose of the condom. Wendy had managed to get her bikini more or less back into place.

"Your computer is here, you can check here," he said, an edge to his voice.

Oh, God, he was almost too tempting, all those rippling muscles, tan everywhere except between his waist and his knees, the contrast somehow making him look even more naked. "No," she said, swallowing hard to moisten a mouth gone suddenly dry. "This has been great, but I really need to go now."

He looked like he was going to say something then thought better of it, his jaw clenching hard, the muscles in his arms tightening as he folded them across his chest.

She retrieved her cover up and computer with Drew shadowing her but still saying nothing. On her way out she paused, her hand on the doorknob. "So I'll see you later then?" Inwardly she cringed at her own lameness.

"Sure," he said curtly, his naked body radiating tension.

Wendy allowed herself one last, covetous look. Because if she knew what was good for her, this was the last time she'd be anywhere near a naked Drew Walker.

###

Drew stood in that same spot, staring at the door like an idiot for several moments after she left. Fighting back the voice screaming at him to go after her, make her come back here, make her admit that there was something....

No. He shoved the thought away before it had time to fully form. They'd had had a good time snorkeling and an even better time fucking, and that was it.  Sure, he'd couldn't remember the last time he'd come so hard he'd nearly blacked out. And he didn't think he'd ever done it looking into the woman's eyes, tasting her mouth, breathing her breath.

Feeling so connected it was like he'd not only felt his own orgasm but hers too....

The peal of his cell phone ringing echoed off the villa's high ceiling, mercilessly yanking him out of whatever sex-induced idiocy he was falling victim to. As he walked to the bedroom to retrieve his phone he shook his head. Connected. Right. All of that new agey bullshit one of the senior partners liked to ramble on about must have invaded his subconscious.

Looking at the caller id on the display, he decided to let the call go to voicemail. Call him conservative, but Drew felt that major life decisions were made without your balls swinging in the breeze.

He pulled on boxers and shorts and dialed the caller, the chairman of the board of a fast growing software company based in Boston.

By the time the call was over, Drew had made a decision that ensured whatever connection might exist between himself and Wendy would never make it past the starting gate.

Chapter 8

2 Weeks later

How was it, Wendy mused as she settled back into her office after a marathon day of meetings, that she could spend nearly an entire year looking forward to a vacation and mere days after it was over feel like it had happened a hundred years ago. It had taken less than forty-eight hours for whatever relaxing effects she might have gained from her stay at Holley Cay to disappear into the ether. Immediately she'd gone right back into the grind, working fourteen hour days, going home only to sleep and shower and sometimes not even then. The two merging high tech companies had finally agreed on terms, with concessions made on the opposite side that had won her glowing praise from the clients.

But there was no time to rest on her laurels as the other partners, impressed with her performance, immediately started squabbling over who got to take over her time.

Of course Wendy was hugely flattered.

Not to mention, in an environment where several of her friends and coworkers had been laid off in the past two years, Wendy was all about being in demand. And it of course boded well for her partnership bid at her annual review.

She tried to remind herself of that as she rubbed her eyes and tried to shake off the exhaustion that had dogged her ever since she'd settled back into her regular routine. Though the work was as interesting and stimulating as it had ever been, she didn't remember being this tired before she'd gone to Holley Cay.

At first she'd chalked it up to jet lag. But two weeks in, her jet lag was long gone, and every day at about five o'clock, when the meetings finally ended and she could actually sit in her office and get work done, she felt like she was going to fall sound asleep in her chair.

She took another swallow of the ever present cup of coffee on her desk to stave off the sleepiness for a few more minutes.

As she pulled up a licensing deal she was working on up on her screen, a little voice in the back of her head whispered that she damn well knew why she was tired.

It was because of the dreams.

Though she'd managed to avoid him from the time she'd fled from his villa, Drew had starred in her dreams nearly every night since. Dreams that left her drenched in sweat, entire body aching with unsatisfied lust. Dreams so vivid she'd wake up, reaching for him, crying out in protest when she found he wasn't there.

During the day she didn't allow herself to think about him. Didn't allow herself to speculate what he was doing in his office less than a mile from hers. How he was spending his evenings or with whom.

Didn't let herself remember how his big hands had felt on her bare skin, how his mouth had felt on the sensitive tips of her breasts and her sex. Or, God help her, how his long, thick cock had felt, sliding deep, deeper than anyone else had ever been, stretching her, filling her. Building her pleasure until she thought she'd die if he stopped and die if he didn't.

All day every day she threw herself into her work and didn't allow her thoughts to stray to Drew.

But at night... as soon as her conscious brain switched off it was like the floodgates opened, and all of the thoughts and fantasies she'd worked so hard to keep at bay came out to play. Actual memories of what they'd done mingled with fantasies of what they hadn't. Wendy had told herself all she needed was that one wild weekend in Holley Cay to satisfy her inexplicable craving for Drew. Yet her subconscious abounded with a thousand other scenarios, throwing her body into an agony of need that inevitably led to her waking up in a fever and having to take the edge off with her own hand.

Wendy had never had a problem with masturbation, but what was happening lately had become depressingly mechanical.

All the more so since Drew was here, in San Francisco, working and living in the same forty-seven as she.

And he hadn't called.

Which was good, she reminded herself. She didn't need him calling, didn't need him interested. And that stabbing feeling in the general region of her chest wasn't hurt, it was run of the mill feminine pique.

Even if she had no interest in rekindling their fling—and she didn’t, or she would have called him—after the mindblowing orgasms they'd given each other, she would have like tot think it was worth it for him to at least try to get her back in bed.

An overture she would, of course, decline.

Why would he bother chasing you down when he probably has every straight woman in the San Francisco Bay area waiting for a taste of what you had?

There was a tight ache at the base of her throat. Must be getting a cold, she thought, from all that dry air on the plane. She got up and went to the break room to make herself a cup of tea.

Tea in hand, she settled back in and worked straight through the next several hours, all thoughts of Drew relegated to the background as she focused on royalty terms for a technology licensing deal she was working on.

By the time she left it was after eight. The cube farm in the middle of her floor was dark, but there was still light shining from one of the conference rooms and several of the other associates’ offices.

She felt a little prick of unease. She didn't like seeing other people working when she wasn't. Maybe she should stay.

She took half a step back to her office before her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn't had anything but coffee and tea since breakfast. You got everything done you needed today,  and besides, you can't do anything on the deal until you get comments back from their side.

It's not all about face time, Alan's frustrated voice rang in her head. It was a scolding he'd given her several times, trying to drive home the point that sitting around the office looking busy was an inefficient use of her time and that when it came to making partner it was going to be based on the quality of her work, not the quantity of time her ass spent in the leather chair behind her desk.

Maybe he had something there, she thought, her mouth pulling down at the too little, too late realization. Here she was, leaving the office before most of the world went to bed, and it was to go to an empty apartment.

Or you could call Drew
, a sly little voice whispered. I don't have his number, she firmly told the voice. Like you couldn't get it. The voice whispered back. Wendy took the elevator down to the parking garage, mentally listing why calling him would be a hugely bad idea. First and foremost, a  guy like Drew was no doubt otherwise occupied. If he picked up at all - chances were she'd end up leaving some pathetic voicemail and spend the rest of the night telling herself she wasn't waiting on pins and needles for him to call her back - there would just be some awful, awkward conversation where it was obvious he was trying to get off the phone without hurting her feelings.