Shifting Gears (4 page)

Plus, she adored Desiree Holt.

At least she’d have something to read during the long, lonely nights ahead. Funny, she hadn’t recognized the suffocating silence in the room, and her life, until Mark had filled it with his laughter and desire. Even for a moment. Like a flash of lightning, his companionship had illuminated all the flaws in her current existence then disappeared, leaving her in the dark once more.

Crap.

* * * * *

Sloan tapped her nails on the table in an incessant tattoo that did nothing to soothe her nerves. A waiter approached but she didn’t have the energy to butcher what little Cantonese she’d been able to absorb. Instead, she pointed to the wine list at the bottom of the laminated menu then held up two fingers. It would take more than one glass of white zin to settle her nerves.

Luckily “Thank you” was pretty universal.

She’d already drained both and most of a third on an empty stomach when a pair of platform heels she’d kill for entered her field of vision as she studied the ground. The intricate pattern on the carpet started to make her dizzy.

When two more pairs of shoes joined the sexy stilettos—these much bigger and sneaker-ish—Sloan jerked her gaze upward.

“Oh no.” She shied away from the accusatory glare she expected from Mark, focusing on Lynn instead. “You brought the Cougar bait?”

“They insisted, sorry.” Lynn didn’t wait to be invited, she leaned in and hugged Sloan. “About everything. I really screwed this all up.”

“S’okay.” Oops, maybe she should have sipped the drinks instead of chugging them. “You meaned—meant well.”

“Let me make it right. Please talk to Mark. Hear him out. Sebastian and I will hang out at the bar for a while and, if you’re up to it, the four of us can have dinner together in a little bit. Sound good?”

When Sloan nodded, the world spun. She grabbed the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grip and closed her eyes. Ah, it was better if she didn’t have to try to resist the temptation of looking toward Mark. He’d make any woman dizzy.

“If you don’t mind, would you put in an order now? Looks like Sloan could use some food.” The anger she expected to ruin his baritone was nowhere to be found. Unlike last night, his Mediterranean accent made all his words sound as rich as dark coffee.

“We’ll do that.”

Sloan peeked through slit eyelids in time to catch a glimpse of Sebastian putting his arm around Lynn as he turned her toward the bar.

“Back in a few minutes. With some appetizers.”

She scooted over when Mark joined her on the bench seat of the booth—on her side of the table. She kept moving until her arm encountered the wall, but Mark pursued her until their thighs pressed together from hips to knees. He was so warm he melted her insides.

Or maybe the wine did that.

“Are you okay?” His question struck her as absurd and she giggled.

Then suddenly she couldn’t stop. One laugh became a riot of chuckles. She had no hope of restraining her nerves or the ridiculousness of the situation. After a minute, she wiped tears from her cheeks then clenched her aching side, doubled over as far as she could go behind the table.

When she paused to draw a breath, she realized he laughed right along with her. They did seem to share the same twisted sense of humor. “Sorry, Cougar. Dumb question.”

Sloan flinched at the title but couldn’t help turning toward the man who’d destroyed her inhibitions with one tiny phone call and a sprinkle of dirty revelations. When she did, she gasped.

“What happened to your face?” She traced the inflamed area slicing through his eyebrow and the bruise on his jaw with featherlight touches.

“Bastian objected to the way I chastised his woman last night.” Mark grinned, the motion almost reopening a little cut on the corner of his mouth. “He shoved me and warned me to stand down, but I was all too willing to go a round or two. It’s been a while since we resorted to a good fistfight.”

Sometimes she forgot how young they were. Still, his silly smirk infected her.

“Did you work it out with Lynn, or did you and Sebastian hammer each other until you ran out of steam?” She hated to bring it up and squash the easy banter between them but she had to know.

“Things are good now. With Lynn and Bastian.” He scrubbed his knuckles over his eye then winced when he irritated the puffy area. “It was a miscommunication. She tried to tell me. But I only heard what I wanted to. Look, Sloan, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was an asshole last night. I’ve hooked up with women plenty of times. You’re an adult—a gorgeous, mature woman. You can fuck who you like, when you like without looking for more. It was screwed up of me to imply otherwise. I just… I’d hoped…”

“And now you’ve made me hope too.” She couldn’t believe she’d whispered her confession aloud. “Asshole.”

The smile on his face was worth the potential hazards. “Really?”

Sloan nodded then reached up to kiss his injured lip. “And I’m still sorry things happened this way. Not exactly a perfect beginning for us.”

“Can we start over?” He plucked her hand from her lap and traced the ridge of her knuckles with his thumb. “Lynn is planning one of her day trips tomorrow. Since we always try to take Sunday off, Sebastian and I intend to go with her. To Cheung Chau island. Off the coast, near Hong Kong. It’s supposed to be beautiful. Top-notch seafood too.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Uh, yeah. A double date. Is that too weird, considering…?”

“Not at all.” Sloan couldn’t believe he still had any interest untainted.

“Psst.” Lynn hesitated at the edge of the booth. “Is it okay if we have a seat?”

“Sure.” Mark nodded at Sebastian. The other man set a platter of fried rice on the table before the couple slid onto the opposite bench. “I was trying to persuade Sloan to go to Cheung Chau with us tomorrow. Why don’t you give it a try?”

“Great beaches, a world-renowned fish market, souvenir shopping and a pirate’s cave! What’s not to love? You don’t want to miss it.” Lynn wiggled her eyebrows in an attempt to lure Sloan that set off another round of laughter.

“I’d really like to go with you.” She trained her stare on the equally dinged face of the race car driver across from her. “But Sebastian better watch his step. If he lays a hand on my guy again, I’ll have something to say about it.”

Only after the words had flown from her lips did she think of Mark’s confession the night before. Then she wished she could retrieve the jest but it was too late.

The four of them exchanged a slew of awkward glances then burst out laughing. “Let’s strike that one from the record, huh?”

“Sounds great.” Sloan reached up to kiss Mark’s cheek. “Thank you. For being so understanding about…everything.”

“And on that note, this is for you.” Lynn handed a book, wrapped in pink ribbon, across the table.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know, but I wanted to.” The other woman snuggled into Sebastian’s chest then sighed. “It’s the least I could do.”

“I appreciate it.” Before Sloan could elaborate, servers delivered family style platters of steaming noodles and fresh stir-fried vegetables to their table. “This looks delicious.”

“Dig in.” Sebastian handed her a plate with a wink before reaching across to spoon some of the food onto his own china.

The next several hours passed in a flurry of laughter, great food, smooth wine and a failed experiment in using chopsticks. Mark fed her from his instead. Captivating conversation, interspersed with several rounds of story-telling, gave her more and more insight into her new friends.

During one particularly colorful retelling about Sebastian getting caught with his pants down—literally—which made Sloan hope no one else spoke English, the driver winged a piece of carrot across the table at Mark. The guys escalated the battle until Lynn stepped in and got caught in the crossfire.

She picked a pea from her hair while wrinkling her nose, but Sebastian took the opportunity to mock their alpha display from the night before. “Careful there,
Marco
, or you’ll be going down again.”

“If I remember correctly, you were the one who went down first, Bastian.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,
amico
?”

Lynn and Sloan’s wide-eyed stares met across the table in a flash. Thank God she wasn’t the only one who’d caught the undercurrent. She wondered if the men knew both she and Lynn frequently read books involving male-on-male interaction. Some of the bisexual ménage stories were her all-time favorites. After browsing Lynn’s to-be-read list on the blog, Sloan knew the other woman enjoyed the genre as much as she did.

“I might like it.” Mark chuckled, breaking the tension. “But not as much as you, fuckwad.”

With that, the duo flitted off to another topic. Another crazy story. Another adventure.

Each thing she learned about the trio improved her opinion of them and highlighted the unique bond they shared. By the time Lynn kicked back in the seat, reclining against her fiancé’s broad chest, her eyelids drooping, Sloan could commiserate.

The emotional roller coaster she’d ridden all day had sapped her energy.

Mark turned to her and caught her stifling a yawn behind her cupped palm. He smiled then looped his arm over her shoulders as though it were nothing—a gesture he’d made a million times before.

Physical connection came so naturally around him. She and her ex had been coworkers long before they’d become lovers. Her respect for his aptitude on the job had led to her accepting a business lunch invitation though she’d refused to see him socially. Once she’d left her company, lured away by the racing league, she agreed to take their relationship further.

They’d become acquaintances during that time and she hadn’t wanted to lose their connection. She should have quickly realized the error of that logic. If he would have drifted away as a friend, clearly nothing more glued them together. Though they’d always had plenty to talk about when it came to PR, intimacy had never come easy.

Lovemaking had been quick and awkward, pleasant at best.

Looking back, she realized the dickhead had coveted her success and started lashing out with affairs around the time she really began to climb the corporate ladder. He’d used her guilt over her long hours and time away to justify his behavior. The first time she found out he’d cheated, she made an effort to repair their relationship. The next time, she left—only realizing the magnitude of his philandering when he threw it in her face during the divorce proceedings.

“What’s that sigh for?” Mark whispered into her hair.

The nuzzle of his stubbled jaw condensed her nipples and made her eager to cuddle closer.

“Thinking about how effortless this is.” Sloan admitted the truth to them both. She’d never felt this pure, elemental attraction to another man, certainly not her ex. She went with it, tipping her cheek onto Mark’s shoulder and breathing deep. The scent of his skin mixed with his aftershave went to her head quicker than the alcohol she’d consumed earlier.

Mark squeezed her thigh beneath the table and she knew he understood.

A couple minutes later, the waitstaff began stacking chairs—upside down—on the tables around them. When had the restaurant cleared out?

“Looks like we’re getting the ol’ heave-ho.” Sebastian smiled at her and Mark. “Lynn and I are going to walk down to the river. You’re welcome to join us but I realize neither of you got much sleep last night. Are you heading back to the apartment complex?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m beat. And I assume we’re leaving early in the morning.” Did going home imply Mark would stay with her or in his apartment instead? Out of her league when it came to dating, especially around these two pros, she stumbled over the next move. “Where should I meet you all?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.” Mark slipped from beneath her and rose to his feet, extending his hand to help her up.

That sounded promising.

Now she had to decide if she was ready to expose herself again. After an entire evening of enduring the waves of lust rolling off Mark, battering her senses, she thought she might welcome the relief.

Chapter Four

Sloan exited the taxi in front of Mark, treating him to a view worth every penny of the cab fare. Her classy pencil skirt hugged the gentle curve of her hips and snugged to her perfect ass as though the fabric had been custom cut for it. Hell, maybe it had been.

He dug in his pocket for his wallet, catching the driver stealing a peek in the rearview mirror. Well, it wasn’t as if he could blame the guy. Still, his hackles rose and he stifled the urge to growl at the lucky bastard.

Enjoy the tip, buddy.

He exited the cab and reclaimed Sloan’s hand, but neither one of them spoke as they headed for the elaborate entrance to their complex. The easy camaraderie they’d shared throughout the evening started to fracture as they both stood, quiet and keeping their distance, in the shiny brass elevator. He studied their reflection, loving the way they looked.

Together.

“Sloan…” he said at the same instant she whispered his name.

“You go.” She waved her hand, which clutched her purse in a death grip, at him.

“Right.” A cheery bell dinged their arrival. Mark placed his palm on the small of her back to steer her from the elevator. “Here’s the thing. I planned to drop you off at your door. Beg for one hell of a goodnight kiss. Maybe even fill my palms with your perfect ass and grind my rock-hard cock against your softness while we were at it. But now, I don’t want to let go.”

He turned her toward him then cupped her cheeks in his palm. “I don’t want tonight to end.”

Mark explored her parted lips, sipping from them but not ravaging before he resumed their march toward home. He left it to her to make the next move, to tell him if she craved him too.

Not one single word split the deafening silence as they approached Sloan’s apartment. Twenty feet had never seemed so far. The anticipation almost killed him but he wouldn’t push. If the same urgency driving him didn’t consume her, he wouldn’t pressure her, because everything he’d said last night still held true.