One More Kiss (A Too Many Men Romantic Comedy / Chick Lit Novel)

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One More Kiss (A Too Many Men Romantic Comedy / Chick Lit Novel) Page 13

by Stephanie Rowe


  He set me down on my feet next to the bed, but he didn't move his hands from my butt. Oh, wait, that's because he was playing with my thong.

  "Hey." I broke the kiss.

  "What?" His hands paused in their commendable effort. "You think we should stop?"

  And force me to live the rest of my life in sexual frustration that would never be relieved because I'd never find a man who made me this hot? Not on your life. "I want to see you."

  He lifted a brow. Well, I think he did. It was really dark in my room with the shades down, blocking out all the city lights.

  I pulled away from him and yanked open the shades, bringing a faint light into the room. Enough that I could see him. Noah. In my bedroom.

  Hey, if I was going to have fantasy sex with Noah, I was going to do it right. My way. After all, Dirk had unleashed my passionate sexual side, right? So, it was time to find out how far it went.

  I walked back over to Noah and tugged off his tie, slapping his hands when he went for me. "I've been fantasizing about your body for the last twenty years. Don't rush me."

  He grinned and let his hands drop to his sides. "You better hurry up."

  Ah, the man could barely wait to get his hands on me. Must be those breasts. Yes, he'd be getting to see my nipples tonight. If only Blaine could see what he was missing...Hey. Don't think about Blaine.

  Blaine. Blaine. Blaine. Suddenly his pretentious face was everywhere in my brain, that snarky look of disdain on his face. Shannon, I didn't realize you were a slut. Two guys in the same week?

  Shut up!

  I quickly unbuttoned Noah's shirt and pulled it off his shoulders. While he was shrugging it over his wrists, I flattened my hand across his chest and stared. Well-muscled, not an ounce of fat, and the perfect amount of hair.

  "So?" His eyes were dark, and he was watching me.

  "Jury is still out." Look at me, with my witty lawyer joke. Obviously, being on the verge of a major sexual encounter with a really hot lawyer seriously reduced my antipathy toward attorneys. "I need more evidence." I set my hands on his belt. "May I?"

  He nodded once.

  Good enough for me! I unfastened his belt and his fly, and then let his pants drop to the floor. Black silk boxers. As if that should be a surprise. If I checked the label, I had no doubt it wouldn’t be Fruit of the Loom. "I think your boxers cost more than my car."

  A wicked gleam came into his eyes. "If they offend you, perhaps we should get rid of them. So you don't get offended."

  Oh, me likey that idea! I hooked my thumbs over the waistband. "They offend me greatly. It's either them or me, bucko. Make your choice."

  He tilted his head. "I'm not sure. They were very expensive. I'll have to weigh my options."

  I felt my insides begin to simmer and bubble at the heated look in his eye. "How can I help you decide?"

  "Being a lawyer, I like to gather all my facts before committing."

  Oh...committing. An unconscious use of the word? He was falling for me bad. "Gather away."

  His eyes darkened, and he reached for me. My breasts perked up. Come and get us. But his hands went to my shoulders. He turned me away from him, so my back was toward him. His lips and tongue went to work on the nape of my neck while his hands tackled the back of my dress.

  I felt a light tug, and then my zipper was down, and my dress was around my ankles.

  He slipped his hands under my arms and cupped my breasts, even as he continued to nibble on my shoulder. Suddenly, I was very fond of the fact my dress had a built-in bra. No extra layers needed.

  "Mmm..." His fingers played with my nipples, which were more than happy to sit up and pay attention. "So, I'm thinking it might be a good trade."

  Trade? What was he talking about?

  "My boxers for your panties."

  Ah. Seemed like a fair deal. "I don't think my thong will fit you."

  He rested his chin on my shoulder and let gravity pull his hands downward to the apparel item in question. "I don't want to wear it." And then he made it very clear what he wanted my panties for. "I just want it out of the way."

  Yeah, I was getting that picture. Sort of. My brain was getting really foggy and I wasn't sure I still had full cognitive function. I did manage to pull myself together enough to turn around and rid him of his very confining boxers while he was returning the favor for me.

  And then we were on my bed. Both of us naked. And I started to giggle right when Noah scooted downward and parted my legs.

  He stopped and looked up at me. "That's a first."

  "What?" I giggled again.

  "I was expecting you to maybe moan a little. Not laugh." He frowned. "I think I'm offended."

  I squeezed my eyes shut and ordered myself to stop laughing. All that did was make me snort when the laugh finally burst out. I opened my eyes and looked at Noah, who was actually looking offended. "I'm sorry, Noah. It's just, well, it's you. And me. And we're naked." I mean, I'd known him my whole life. He was like my brother. And now we were naked together?

  His eyes darkened, and he scooted up. "Yes, you're right. We're naked. And you're gorgeous with an incredible body. And I want to make love to you until you can't think anymore."

  The giggles disappeared immediately. "Oh. When you put it that way..."

  This time when he began his ministrations, I wasn't laughing. When I moaned, I felt Noah grin. Yeah, yeah. Gotta love the male ego. If I had any control of my body right now, I would completely not moan or make one noise or fumble for my nightstand drawer and pull out a condom for him.

  I'm not a slut. It was my stash from Max.

  Being the accommodating guy he was, he accepted my offering and made short work of it. One-handed, by the way, with the other one taking up where his mouth had left off. The man was all talent, and I decided I would forever be his love slave.

  Or sex slave, rather. We so weren't at the love stage yet. Yet, being the operative word. I had no doubt we were meant to be together. How could we not? Friends and lovers. The perfect combination.

  He slipped his knee between my thighs and I moved to welcome him. When I felt him slip inside, I was absolutely certain I would die. Explode. Shoot to the heavens and never return. This was what sex was all about.

  He groaned and closed his eyes, and I wrapped my feet around his waist and let him take me along. It started in my toes. A tingling that moved up my feet, grabbed my legs, then shot upward, taking over my whole body until I was unable to move or think or feel anything except the most incredible electricity igniting every single thing in my body.

  I was so writing into Cosmo about this orgasm.

  Chapter Twenty

  I woke up in the middle of the night to find Noah sprawled across me, still naked, still gorgeous, and still there. He hadn't bailed and left me with a note on the pillow. Remember how he uttered that magical word "committing" during our lovemaking? He was whipped.

  And I had to go to the bathroom.

  I climbed over him, paused a moment to kiss him thoroughly just because I could, then I grabbed the doorknob. For a night that had begun as the worst night of my life, it had certainly ended as the best one. Ever.

  See? That was why I'd broken up with Max. Because I'd believed in my soul that he wasn't the right one for me. How about that? Less than three weeks later, I'd proven it.

  My heart all warm and snuggly, I flung open my door and found Blaine standing in the hallway in his underwear. Tighty whiteys that left nothing to the imagination. Interesting body. Good, but nothing like Noah's. "What are you doing?"

  He looked horrified. "Going to the kitchen."

  Now, if that wasn't the most inane answer. How about, having sex with your roommate, hope you don't mind?

  "Shannon?" I noted the shocked look on his face, then remembered I had been naked when I'd gotten up, and I hadn't remedied that situation. Full frontal for Blaine.

  I slammed the door shut and cursed. Monday was really going to be awkward now. Emma was damned lucky I
'd ended up with Noah tonight, or I'd be unbelievably pissed at her. As it was, she was going to have to do some serious groveling to get me to forgive her. And regardless of that, I still had to work with Blaine, and he had now seen me entirely naked. No more, oops he saw my nipple. We're talking full monty now.

  "Shannon?" Noah was propped up on his elbows, his eyes squinty with sleep. "Anything wrong?"

  "I was just going to the bathroom."

  He frowned. "I need some water."

  I started to offer to get him some, and then I thought of Blaine in the kitchen. "Go ahead and help yourself. There's bottled water in the fridge. I'll meet you back here."

  He grunted, rolled out of bed, and grabbed his boxers. Smart guy. He remembered I had a roommate.

  I let him leave first, then I snuck out to the bathroom, clad in an oversize tee shirt. I heard the rumble of male voices from the kitchen, and I smiled. Yes, indeed. This was turning out to be quite a good night.

  I smiled at Otto, watching his mouth rattle on and the sweat trickle down his face. I could see him spewing at me, but it was all drifting happily past me. My "great-sex-with-Noah" force field was still protecting me. Nothing, not even Otto, could get through my bubble of happiness. I wondered what Noah would do for my birthday? My twenty-fifth birthday with the man of my dreams on my arm. I might not have my career figured out, but things were definitely heading in the right direction.

  Otto's mouth stopped moving.

  So I nodded. Wonder what Noah was doing now? Was he thinking about me? He'd stayed for pancakes on Sunday morning. Since Blaine had stayed too, it had made for a rather interesting Sunday morning.

  As I said, if I hadn't hooked up with Noah, Emma would have been dead meat. As it was, I had still felt viciously embarrassed when I saw Blaine Monday morning at work. I mean, he'd seen me totally naked! So, she was still in trouble for that. I didn't need my office hell following me home.

  I realized Otto was starting at me expectantly. Shit. "I'm sorry. Can you repeat your question?"

  His beady little eyes narrowed. "Ms. McCormick, I asked you for your list of activities this week. I assume you brought it?"

  Double shit. Noah's protective bubble began to melt. Where was my brain? A mind rocking orgasm wasn't going to impress Otto. Only preparation and genuflection would impress him. And I'd done neither. "I'm sorry. I thought we were going to talk about them. I didn't realize you needed the actual list." Did that sound lame or what? I hadn't let myself get caught unprepared by Otto since my first month at the firm. A little sex and my brain shuts down?

  Otto's forehead started twitching, and he leaned forward. I wondered whether he was like a cobra, and I considered lifting my arm to cover my face in case he started spitting venom at me. "Ms. McCormick, you do realize you're on probation, don't you?"

  It was all I could do to keep my mouth from dropping open and tears from flaring in the corners of my eyes. "Probation?" Nice, squeaky voice.

  "You can't afford to come to meetings unprepared."

  Really? I hadn't figured that one for myself.

  "I want that list on my desk in twenty minutes. And I want an updated list every day by the time I get to work in the morning."

  Oh, sure, I have plenty of time to start tracking my activities minute by minute. That's such an efficient use of my time. But I nodded—no point in trying to fake a smile. He didn't care, and I hated him so much that a smile would have morphed into some screaming epithet monologue. So I clamped my lips together and stuck with one simple nod.

  "Fine. You're excused."

  You are a bastard in the truest sense of the word. I stood up and walked out. The instant I got into the hallway, tears sprung free. And I mean, they sprung. There was no holding them back.

  And my office was on the other side of the floor. I looked down the hall, and even through my blurred vision, I could see people milling around. No escape. I couldn't even make it to the ladies' room without being caught.

  Then I saw Jessamee walking down the hall toward me. Crap.

  I then did what any sensible woman would do. I bolted for the emergency stairwell. The door slammed shut behind me, but I ran down a flight in case someone like Hildy was hot on my tail.

  But no caring soul yelled my name, which made me feel even worse. Shouldn’t someone have noticed that I needed help? That my rushing off to be alone was a sign of my desperate need for comfort?

  Apparently not.

  So I sat there and let myself cry. I mean, really cry. I cried for myself, for all the miserable things that I let bother me, and for the fact I was immature enough to let them bother me. And then I cried because Blaine hated me. And because he'd seen me naked. And I cried because I had to pay five hundred dollars for my sister's engagement present. And I cried because I was so unbearably tired of fighting my parents' expectations. And I cried because Emma had betrayed me by sleeping with Blaine.

  It took me almost forty-five minutes to run out of things to cry about.

  And then I gave it another five minutes of crying to cover new things that I didn't know about yet.

  Then I had a mother of a headache, and my silk blouse was all wet from my tears. I had no doubt my eyes were puffy, and I'd wiped all my makeup off.

  Then I realized I'd missed Otto's twenty-minute deadline for my list to show up on his desk, so then I had to go cry again for that.

  Eventually, there were simply no more tears.

  I'd never actually had a tear drought before. That was probably good. Running into tear droughts frequently was an indication that things really sucked.

  I sat there for a few more minutes, my body completely exhausted, my brain nothing but goo. But the awful knot of tension in my stomach was gone, for the moment. I tested a smile, and my face didn't crack.

  So I could go back in there, manage a brilliant smile to blind everyone long enough for me to get back to my office where my makeup repair kit was. Right. I could handle this.

  I stood up, feeling much stronger than I had since I'd broken up with Max. No wonder nervous breakdowns—or whatever they were called nowadays—were so popular. They were very cleansing. Perhaps I should do it every day. Or maybe every other day. They were also very time consuming.

  I stood up, figured out how to fold my arms across my chest to hide the wet spots, and took out my bun. I fluffed my hair around my face so it sort of fell forward over my tear-stained cheeks. I lifted my chin, practiced another smile, then marched back up the stairs to return to hell.

  And discovered that emergency stairways were locked on this side.

  Argh! I yanked on it, then kicked it, then yanked again. Locked!

  Crap. I was on the thirty-third floor.

  I considered banging on the door until someone opened it, but that wouldn't exactly be conducive to sliding unobtrusively back to my office, would it? It was one thing to breeze by people and have them wonder if your eyes were puffy, but if I emerged from the stairwell with puffy eyes, there wouldn't be a whole lot of guesswork.

  Dammit.

  I stared down the stairwell. Thirty-two flights were an awful lot to walk down in heels and a snug skirt.

  Then I considered the fact that Jessamee's office was directly across from the stairwell, and she'd be the one to open it in response to my frantic banging.

  I decided to bond with the stairs.

  Forty-five minutes later, Isabel gasped when I walked by her cube. "Shannon? What happened to you?"

  I looked down at my torn nylons, courtesy of taking off my heels on floor twenty-one. Sweat was dripping down my temples, and I was covered with a thin coat of dust—apparently, I was the only one who'd ever chosen to traverse that particular path in the last one hundred years. My makeup was long gone. My blazer was tossed over my shoulder. I had no doubt there were sweat stains on my silk blouse, but I hadn't even bothered to stop in the ladies' room to check. Some things were too depressing to face. So I gave Isabel the brilliant Shannon smile. "I had a little mishap with the v
ending machine."

  She stared.

  "I have to write a memo for Otto, and then I need to take a couple hours off. Can you clear my schedule until say, two o'clock?"

  "Otto called. He said you were late with the memo."

  I braced myself and ordered myself to be strong, but I still flinched. Dammit. "I know I'm late. That's why I'm doing it now. Tell him I got hit by a truck but that I am writing it up while I’m in traction because I'm so dedicated."

  I saw Blaine's office door start to open, so I bailed into my office and shut the door.

  I hadn't even opened my desk drawer to retrieve my makeup when my phone rang. I hit speaker phone. "Shannon McCormick."

  "Hi darling."

  "Mom." Tears sprung in my eyes again. "I'm having the worst day."

  She was quiet for a moment, and suddenly I felt stupid. We didn't have that kind of relationship.

  "I'm sorry." She sounded sincere, and the tears came harder. "Is there anything I can do?"

  "Get me a new job."

  Her tone changed immediately. "Well, Shannon, if it's your job that's the problem, then that's your own fault, isn't it? I have no sympathies for you staying in a miserable job because you're too stubborn to listen to us. It's time you grew up and took responsibility for your decisions. Dump the job and go back to school."

  I stared glumly at my desk. "That's your answer for everything, isn't it? Go back to school and get a new career?"

  "It's a good answer when you hate your job."

  I hate it when my mom is right. "So, what do you want?"

  She transitioned smoothly to the new topic. Not that she was the doting type who'd want to spend hours commiserating with her daughter. "I thought it would be nice if you hosted a baby shower for April."

  I could think of no socially acceptable comment.

  "Lindsey has her hands full with her own wedding, and as mother of the bride, I'm very busy as well. Besides, you and April are almost the same age. It will be a good bonding experience."

  "Do you care that they're not getting married?"

  My mom hesitated, and then she said, "April is a wonderful woman, and she'll make a fabulous mother."

 

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