She's Got Dibs

by AJ Nuest

  He grasped her hand and submerged her finger into thick frosting. And when he sucked the digit into his mouth, glittering light ignited and shimmered throughout her body. The pressure of his pursed lips drifted to the tip of her finger. The pad of his thumb swept her lips.

  A heady fever rose in her veins. She lay rapt on the bed, languishing in euphoria while Dibs kindled and stoked her arousal with the entire piece of cake. First a strawberry would touch her lips, then the tip of the fork, and she would open her mouth to receive whatever he offered her.

  The mounting anticipation became her only focus, until her negligee billowed past her knees and his coated finger descended the inside of her thigh. Exhilaration surged, flooding her mind with a bright veil of light. She floated, poised on the brink of coming undone, waiting for his touch, his kiss. Desire pooled and she quivered when he dragged his tongue along her skin, blew a hot breath over the moist trail. The ball of his thumb tapped and circled, unfurling the flower of her inner folds as he nuzzled the tight nest of curls between her legs.

  The glide of his tongue left her body and she hitched a breath, held it lodged in her throat.

  “It’s all gone,” he whispered.

  She opened her eyes and at once, she knew. He’d just given her the single most erotic experience of her life.

  “I’m completely falling in like with you.”

  She smiled at his tender reassurance. “You know, you give the greatest pillow talk.”

  His eyebrow twitched. “I’m serious.”

  Her pulse quickened, and she pushed up on her elbow. “Is that right?”

  He nodded.

  “How extremely fortunate for me.” She traced a fingertip along the tier of his defined abs. “Then do you think I could bother you for one more ki—?”

  He came forward in a rush; she had never needed to ask.

  Tessa held his kiss, her palm on his cheek while his full, moist lips tended hers. Dibs wound a hand under her arm, between her shoulder blades, and lifted. Her breasts met the firm wall of his chest. His thumb ensnared the strap of her negligee and he lowered it from her shoulder. Heat rushed her thighs when he dipped his head and captured her nipple, laving it with his tongue, grazing his teeth over the sensitive peak.

  She slipped the knot at his waist, flitted her fingers down his planed stomach, and flipped the robe aside. He pressed a small silver packet into the palm of her hand. His breathing grew labored and he closed his eyes, his head rolling back on his shoulders while she stroked down, fully seating the condom. She collapsed on the pillow as he swung over her. Each kiss was a gift, her lips, neck and shoulders. Pleasure throbbed and she writhed when he engulfed her breast in his mouth. The head of his rigid member swept her stomach, probed her inner thigh. She fisted the sheets, her back bowing when he teased her entrance, massaging her hidden bundle of nerves. He stroked and fondled, the pressure increasing until her need for him was so complete, her entire body quaked.

  He had taken her back to that place, where nothing would stop unless her passion was sated, unless he fulfilled her needs.

  She pulled him down to her, kissing him with everything she had left, wanting the moment to last longer than she could ever endure. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, bucked in frustration when he entered her slowly, so achingly slow. The muscles in his arms tensed. He angled her hips off the bed, and she whimpered her disapproval when he withdrew. He locked her tight in his arms and delved deep, rolling and grinding his pelvis against her. They arced into each other, moving and swaying as one. Desire darkened his eyes. His pace increased. The room spun, and when he caressed the oversensitive bud between her legs and pulsed within, a shudder of such tremendous release overtook her, the world exploded into a million tiny shards of light.

  ****

  Dibs’s breath filled her ear. Tessa blinked and lifted her head from his chest. He was asleep on his back, the crumpled sheet draped loosely around his waist.

  She’d more than just overstayed her welcome—she’d surpassed the hello, the goodbye, and all the parts between. She crept back from him and tiptoed into the bathroom, but left the door ajar, afraid to risk the noise.

  She rushed into her clothes, gathering her shoes and shopping bag on her return to the bedroom. Glancing at Dibs’s sleeping figure, she padded to the chair in the corner and carefully lifted his pants. The change in his pocket jingled. She froze and held her breath. A muffled snore spilled from his lips. She reached into his pocket and retrieved her key cards, then ever so gently lowered his pants back onto the chair.

  Near the front door, she gathered her purse and briefcase from the floor, grasped the doorknob, and…

  Past the open bedroom door, the steady rhythm of Dibs’s breathing drew through his sculpted chest, his face relaxed and at peace. Perhaps just this once…

  She snuck her hand into her briefcase, approached the nightstand, and balanced a business card against the lamp.

  The corners stood out in sharp relief against the green glow of the digital clock. She snatched up the card, flicking the edge with her fingernail, replaced it and held up her palm for it to stay before heading for the door.

  Without missing a step, she spun around, stalked to the nightstand, picked up the business card, and crammed it in her pocket. Sorry, Dibs…

  She leaned against the door as it swung closed, hoping to silence the bolt clicking into the latch, and then rushed for the elevator, fighting to slow her steps and pounding heart while she paced.

  The first easy breath came in the cab, on the way to the airport.

  Chapter Four

  “I cannot believe you are such a bitch.”

  Tessa pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we not do this?”

  The whole exhausting ordeal of returning to Chicago—the first available flight re-routing her through Atlanta, not to mention negotiating the over-crowded subway—had taken most of the day. Maybe she’d made the wrong decision, coming in to touch base with Tiffany instead of heading straight home. Either way, it didn’t matter. Being at the office was basically the same as being at her condo, except now she was forced to deal with her best friend’s prudent wisdom.

  “You just left.”

  Tessa filled her lungs to explain, stopped, and stared Tiffany dead in the eye. “Yes.”

  “I cannot believe you are such a bitch.” The gold charm bracelet on her wrist jingled and winked in the light as she tossed a manila file folder onto Tessa’s desk. “Here.”

  “What’s this?”

  “Everything I found out. You asked me to do a search, remember?”

  Oh, yeah. That. Chalk one up to a temporary moment of misguided curiosity. Tessa set the folder aside, faced her computer and pulled up the calendar for the Sandburg wedding to check what she had missed from the day before.

  “Okay, what kind of pills are you popping, and how do I get my hands on some?”

  She slanted a sarcastic glower toward the perplexed crease in Tiffany’s brow. “Not funny.”

  “How can you not be interested in that gorgeous example of the male physique? I thought you said the sex was fantastic.”

  “Look.” She swiveled her chair to her desk. Time for a refresher course in Dating Delusions 101. “Who they are or what they look like doesn’t matter. Relationships always end the same. Brad Pitt could be begging me to marry him, but in the end we would still end up hating each other and going our separate ways. That’s just the way it is.”

  Disbelief twisted Tiffany’s lips. “Not all relationships are like that, Tessa.”

  Oh, really? She opened her side desk drawer, yanked the folders out one at a time, and slapped them onto her desk. “Divorced, divorced, separated, divorced, I heard this one’s having an affair, divorced.”

  Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Not the folders again…” she mumbled.

  “Do you realize over two million dollars passed through this office last year?” Tessa aimed a finger at her desk. “And of that two million, I would say appr
oximately ten dollars and fifty cents was spent wisely.”

  Tiffany crossed her arms, sighing.

  “Now, far be it for me to tell these people how to spend their money.” Tessa straightened the folders into a neat pile, tapping the bottom edge against her blotter. “After all, we would be out of business without them. And if they want monogrammed toilet paper, then, by all means, we’ll get them monogrammed toilet paper. But forgive me if after everything is said and done, and paid for, it still doesn’t matter. Marriage is a farce, and true love does not exist.”

  “You’re never going to get over him, are you?”

  “Please.” Try though she might, Tessa couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice.

  “You are never, ever going to be normal again.”

  “Normal’s overrated.” She shoved the folders back into her desk and slammed the drawer.

  One of Tiffany’s eyebrows lifted, her foot bouncing a saucy jig over her crossed legs. “It’s been three years. Just how long are you planning on letting this destructive behavior of yours continue?”

  “I’m not going back out there, Tiffany. I told you. I simply refuse to put myself in that situation again.”

  Tiffany’s blonde bob swayed when she shook her head, lips compressed in a firm hard line…but the dark-blue misery in her eyes told a different story.

  And, unfortunately, those unspoken words were enough.

  A string in Tessa’s heart softly snapped. Out of all the friends she and Michael had shared, out of the many acquaintances during their six years together, Tiffany was the one true friend who stood by her after he disappeared. For God’s sake, she’d hosted the bridal shower, attended every single fitting. The thought of causing a rift between them on top of the pain Michael had already inflicted… Tessa lowered her eyes and braced her forehead against her clasped hands. She didn’t want to hurt her best friend. Michael’s leave-taking had already caused enough heartache to last a lifetime.

  “You think you know someone,” she said. “You think what you have with him is real and true, and then with nothing more than a wisp of breeze on your face, you’re proven wrong. It’s like everyone was in on some big secret and they forgot to include me.”

  Tiffany tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a troubled sigh slipping past her lips. “I just think you’re playing with fire, Tessa. I worry about the choices you make.”

  She gritted her teeth, speaking past the stiffness in her jaw. “Yes, there’s a very good chance Michael royally screwed me up. And yes, it’s highly likely I may never recover. But the choices I make work for me. Don’t you see? I don’t have to worry about hurting anyone’s feelings. I don’t have to deal with any messy breakups, and I certainly don’t have to suffer that great worldwide fallacy called love.”

  “It’s not a fallacy,” Tiffany whispered. “I’m in love.”

  “I know.” Tessa reached her clasped hands across the desk in a show of support. “And I’m really happy for you. Really, I am. Maybe what I should say is love is a fallacy for me. There, does that make you happy?”

  “No, that does not make me happy,” Tiffany snapped.

  Tessa fell back in her chair. Love her business partner though she did, this reoccurring conversation would no doubt follow the same path as all those before—straight into an inescapable gridlock. “Can’t we please just drop it? I had a great time, he was really fantastic, I’m very happy with how everything turned out, and I’m home now and ready to get back to work, okay?”

  She swung to her computer and filled her lungs, shaking her head as she exhaled.

  “What category was he?”

  Tessa snapped her chin over. “What?”

  “What category?”

  She frowned. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because when you normally return from these rendezvous, or whatever the hell you want to call them, the very first thing you always tell me is their category.” Tiffany flicked her fingers in the air. “You dismiss them with a wave of your hand, grandly announcing what was wrong with them. You didn’t do that this time.”

  Well, that didn’t sound right at all. “I do?”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Huh.” She returned to her computer.

  “Tessa.”

  She refocused on Tiffany.

  “What category?”

  She dropped her gaze to her desk, pursed her lips. Shit. “I’m not sure.”

  Tiffany sprang forward in her chair. “What do you mean ‘I’m not sure’?”

  It was definitely strange. No matter how much she replayed their night together, Dibs just didn’t seem to fit any of the molds. “I thought about it on the plane, and I couldn’t figure it out.”

  “You thought about it on the plane?” Blue eyes resembling dinner plates, Tiffany slowly edged back in the chair. She grinned.

  Oh great. That was a sure sign of trouble ahead. “Get that goofy smile off your face.”

  She nodded, pointing across the desk. “Not to mention the internet search.”

  Gah! Talk about a stupid mistake. Now this would never end! Tessa dropped her forehead into her palm. “Can you please leave me alone so I can get back to work?”

  “I’m just saying, it normally takes you maybe three seconds to figure out what category a guy is in, but this guy—no category.” Tapping out a beat on the arms of the chair, Tiffany glanced casually around the office.

  “That’s so not true.” Tessa crossed her arms.

  “What’s Kevin?” Tiffany pinned her with a calculated stare.

  Her boyfriend of two years? Pffft. Easy. “He’s a two.”

  “And Mr. Sandburg?”

  Wealthy business owner. Another easy call. “A four.”

  Tiffany arched a challenging brow. “And the UPS delivery guy?”

  “A one, struggling inside a two,” Tessa said, aggravation knotting the muscles in her shoulders. “Is there a point to this exercise?”

  “Yes, there’s a point!” Tiffany tossed her hands in the air. “This is the first guy in over three years you haven’t been able to fit into one of your stupid little categories!”

  Tessa raked a hand through her hair. “It doesn’t matter. I’m still not interested.”

  Closing her eyes, Tiffany muttered incoherently.

  Why, oh why, did the woman refuse to see reason? “I’m happy with the way things are right now, Tiff. I don’t want anything to change. My life is wonderfully mess free and it suits me perfectly.”

  “Oh, okay.” She rolled her eyes, pushed up from the chair and headed for the doorway. “By the way—” She stopped in the threshold and aimed a sharp finger at the folder on Tessa’s desk. “Your Mister No-Category man is worth over four hundred million.”

  Tessa’s jaw dropped.

  “Oh, and Tess?” She peeked around the wall. “Make sure you give my name to your pharmacist.”

  Tessa squinted in annoyance as her friend smirked and disappeared.

  A few hours later and a glance at her desk clock, and Tessa lifted brows in surprise. How in the world did it get to be eight o’clock? She stretched her arms over her head before covering an expansive yawn and shutting down her computer.

  As she bent to retrieve her bags from the floor, a waft of Dibs’s cologne bathed her senses. His face flashed in her mind. She grabbed the edge of her desk, a blast of heat suffusing her cheeks as the kiss they had shared in the elevator became spotlighted center stage. The urgency of his lips, the deep moan of arousal from his chest, the passion darkening his eyes…She blinked, pressed a trembling hand to her forehead, and left the office for home.

  The moment she entered her condo, relief flooded in. Her spine collided with the door as dropped her bags at her feet. At last she was home, the one place she didn’t have to put up a pretense with anyone. No smiling when she wanted to cry, no pretending to like someone when on the inside she could barely stand to be near them.

  She tossed her keys onto the antique bureau, pausing a moment to enjoy th
e spectacular nighttime view of Lake Michigan through the eastern wall-to-wall windows of her condo. Inside the kitchen, she brewed some tea, and then sipped the cup down the hallway, past her office and a small half bath. She toed off her heels in the bedroom and continued into the master bath, lowered to the edge of the tub, and drew a hot bath. When she stood to remove her clothes, she caught her reflection in the vanity mirror.

  The time had come.

  Never had she imagined her life this way, roaming the empty halls of her heart. She and Michael had made plans, talked of a home and children. Three, he had said, two boys and a girl. Only so he could use up the best parts of her and then deny she ever existed. He promised to love her forever, damn it. Her life wasn’t supposed to be this way.

  A small tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. She briskly wiped it away, turning her back on the image in the glass. What a fool she’d been, believing in something best left to fairy tales and romance novels. Love was a lie, spoon-fed to little girls. Happily ever after didn’t exist. Not in her world. Not anymore.

  She eased into the bathtub and closed her eyes, her fingertips trailing over her shoulder. Dibs had touched that same spot. Standing before her in the hotel room, he’d whispered she was beautiful, made her feel special, but in truth, there was no such thing as special.

  A dark stain crept across the canvas of her imagination, blotting out the image. She dipped a washcloth into the steaming water and placed it over the shallows of her eyes. A heavy pressure gathered in her chest. But she was home, no one could see. When bloated tears escaped, she let them come. Maybe just this once they would help. She would finally be able to reconcile her anger and fear of abandonment against the safety of being alone.

  ****

  A flash of white snagged her attention and Tessa swiveled away from the RSVP list for the Sandburg wedding. Tiffany’s face remained hidden behind the huge bouquet of Asiatic lilies until she set the vase on Tessa’s desk.

  “You got flowers,” she said dryly.