Private Pleasures

by Jami Alden

  The husky sound of her laughter when she laughed at something he said. The way it had felt to sleep—actually sleep with her—that first time in Tahoe. Waking up and feeling her warmth curled up against his back, her breath deep and heavy with sleep.

  That was when he'd known that despite all of his internal assurances that the intensity of his feelings would quickly fade, he was so far past the point of no return with Wendy it was ridiculous.

  And while he'd never in his life considered himself a coward, never hesitated to go after anything he wanted, he hadn't done a damn thing to fight for her.

  Had been so caught up in his own pride and—though it killed him to admit it—hurt when she'd casually brushed him off, he didn't bother to tell her that she was different from any other woman he'd ever been with.

  That she made him feel things he'd never felt before, that she made him want to make her happy. That she wanted to make him try at love, for once as hard as he tried at everything else. What if he'd said all that, instead of agreeing with her that he'd forget her in no time?

  But it was too late. He'd left, determined to make good on his commitment to this new venture, as she was committed to reaching her goal of being the youngest partner in her firm's history.

  At least, he'd thought it was too late.

  "You know, you're taking this really well."

  Drew couldn't keep the grin off his face as he drained the last of his scotch.

  "Seriously, I think you're the first person I've ever seen who seems happy about getting fired."

  It had happened earlier that afternoon, after Drew had presented his plan for turning the company around. One that required, in his opinion, not just some minor housekeeping but essentially a full restart when it came to the executive team, the product strategy, and the core engineers.

  To say it had gone over like a lead blanket was an understatement.

  And when Drew had laid out the ultimatum—if they didn't let him do what they'd brought him in to do, he was out of there—the board had voted to show him the door.

  Now he could leave, his conscience clear, knowing he'd made good on his promise—if they didn't want to listen, that was their own damn fault. In any case, as soon as he signed the necessary HR paperwork, there was nothing tying him to the East Coast. "You know that saying about doors closing and windows opening? Getting shit canned by the board blew open a window for me big enough to drive a truck through."

  He might have been a coward, but he wasn't an idiot. This whole catastrophe with Silverlight was like a neon fucking sign from the universe telling him which way to go. And this time he wasn't about to ignore it.

  "Well, there are a lot of other opportunities. I'm looking at a company in London—"

  In the past Drew would have been all ears, eager to hear about a new opportunity that would take him across the Atlantic. A new city, undiscovered territory. Always moving forward, no looking back. But not anymore. He held up his hand to cut Unger off and threw enough cash on the bar to cover their drinks. "I'm good. I already know my next move."

  "Oh yeah? What are you going to do?"

  "I'm going to tend to some very important business I've been neglecting back in San Francisco."

  ###

  By the time Wendy pulled into her garage she felt like she'd been working for thirty hours straight. She checked her clock, surprised to see it was only a relatively civilized seven-thirty. Still, as she climbed out of her car she felt about a hundred years old, stiff and creaky.

  She'd never been one to mope, but damn, the past month had taken a lot out of her. Though she was loath to admit it, since Drew left, she felt like all of the color had been leached out of her life. Nothing made her smile, and her favorite foods turned to sawdust in her mouth long before she swallowed them.

  The only small silver lining was that thanks to her wine and depression diet, the 5 or so pounds she'd put on since starting at Chapman Cooper had disappeared along with five or so more. As she felt the waistband of her pants slide along her hips she realized if she kept this up she'd be shopping for a new wardrobe by the time New Year's came around.

  She knew she had it bad when the prospect of raiding the racks at Nordstrom couldn't conjure up the faintest flutter of eagerness.

  She locked up the car, grabbed her computer case and closed the garage door. She flipped the switch that would turn on the light to illuminate the walkway, uttering a low curse when she saw that the light was still burned out despite several calls to the landlord in the last week.

  If she or her neighbor tripped in the dark, she wouldn't hesitate to sue his ass.

  As she trudged up the stairs she tried to think of anything remotely appetizing she might enjoy for dinner. But lately it took everything thing she had just to keep up at work, so much so even the prospect of dinner was exhausting.

  She was pretty sure she'd seen a can of chicken noodle soup somewhere in her pantry. And no matter how she didn't want to go there she couldn't keep her brain from flashing to her weekend with Drew in Tahoe and the amazing meals he'd created using a few ingredients from the refrigerator and a recipe in his head.

  It was ridiculous how the smallest thing could remind her of him. Most of the time she was able to shove the thoughts away with nothing more than a sharp pinch to her chest. But right now, exhausted and pushed to the end of endurance, the memory of Drew moving around his kitchen in Tahoe—and what happened in the hot tub after—was enough to make her gulp back a sob as she approached her front door.

  As she rounded the corner of the landing, something moved in the shadows. Wendy gave a startled shriek as panic sent melancholy into full retreat. Tipping back on her heels, she got the awful, stomach dipping feeling that she was about to fall back on the concrete steps.

  A huge hand reached out and grabbed her by the wrist and her fear of falling was quickly replaced by a dozen horrible images of what this shadowy, lurking stranger might have in store for her.

  She struggled to jerk her arm free but the man kept pulling until she was on the top of the landing. Wendy took a deep breath, prepared to let out an eardrum busting scream.

  "Jesus, be careful! You're going to break your neck."

  The scream died in her chest at the sound of that voice. She shook her head. It couldn't be. He was in Boston having his awesome new life and she... she had clearly gone so mental she was starting to hallucinate.

  But when he spoke again there, was no mistaking the low, raspy voice. Even if she couldn't clearly make out his features in the dark, her body recognized that voice and immediately flushed with heat. "Drew?"

  "Yeah," he said. "Sorry I scared you. I thought about going to the office but decided it would be a better idea to meet you here. I didn't think about the dark."

  When Wendy was unable to move for all the thoughts and questions crashing around her head, Drew silently felt for her hand and took the keys from it. He opened the door, pulled her inside and flipped on the entryway light.

  And there he was, in her entryway, looking so big and strong and gorgeous despite the lines of fatigue bracketing his mouth. With his dark wool coat covering his broad shoulders he took up all the room in the small space, sucking up all the oxygen as Wendy struggled to draw enough breath to speak.

  "You're really here."

  Drew smiled then, a smile so warm he seemed lit from the inside, his gray eyes gleaming so bright they turned silver as the peered down at her. "I'm really here," he replied, taking her limp hands in his.

  The feel of his bare palms was enough to send a shock of heat up her arms so fierce she feared she might burst into flames. "Why?" she asked before she could stop the word from flying from her lips. It didn't matter why, she scolded herself. All that mattered was that he was here, and if it was only for a quick booty call she'd take it. And if that made her a pathetic loser with no self respect well....

  At least she'd be a very well fucked pathetic loser by the time he left.

  Drew'd hands tightened
around hers and she could see his throat work as he swallowed. Funny, she'd never seen him at a loss for words, but her simple question seemed to have thrown him for a loop. And his smile dimmed a couple degrees, and for the first time in the history of knowing him, she thought Drew actually looked uncertain.

  She gave herself a mental shake and decided it must be a trick of the light.

  "I'm here because," he cleared his throat and started again. "I'm here because... Jesus, I didn't think this would be so hard."

  Wendy's stomach flipped over in dread, and she started to tug her hands from his. "Is it something bad? Oh, God," she said, her stomach threatening to expel the half apple she'd managed to choke down earlier in the day, "you're getting married and didn't want me to find out from someone else."

  Drew's grip tightened on her hands until it was almost painful. "Christ, no, I'm not getting married, at least not to anyone other than you."

  She froze as the words sank in and had nearly convinced herself she'd misheard him when she saw his face flood with color.

  Oh, my God, Drew was blushing.

  "Shit, I'm getting ahead of myself." He pressed his lips together and gave his head a sharp shake as Wendy tried to figure out what exactly he meant by that. A few moments later, as though he'd hit a reset button, he leveled her with an all too familiar stare. Level, resolute, and very, very sure of himself and what he wanted.

  "I'm here because in my entire adult life, I've never backed off from a fight. I've never hesitated to go after exactly what I wanted even if I knew failure wasn't just an option but the likely outcome. And I never, ever, considered myself a coward until I walked away from you without telling you how I really felt."

  The tightness in her chest gave way, replaced by a warm, swelling sensation so strong it felt like her head was going to burst through the confines of her ribcage. "And how do you feel?"

  The sheepish look was back as he pulled her closer and cupped her cheek. "I'm really bad at talking about this kind of stuff. I've never told a woman—hell, I've never felt this about a woman—" his mouth came down on hers, fierce, hot, and hungry, and in that kiss she tasted every word he was trying to say.

  Without another word he slid his hands down to her ass and lifted her off the floor. Wendy obligingly wrapped her legs around his waist and let him carry her up the narrow stairway to her apartment where he made a beeline for her bedroom.

  "I can't stop thinking about you," he murmured as they pulled off each other’s clothes. "You're the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning," he said as he laid her across the bed and trailed kisses across her cheek and down her neck, "you're what I'm thinking about when I go to sleep. It's making me fucking miserable," he leaned down and sucked her nipple into his mouth, hard, as though a small punishment.

  Wendy moaned and arched into his mouth as her sex began to swell and throb under his touch.

  "Not being able to see you, be with you, fuck, even talk to you is driving me out of my mind." His mouth moved to her other breast as his hand skimmed down her stomach and cupped her between her legs.

  He let out a heavy groan when he found her slick folds. "You've missed me too," he said, that familiar smug tone creeping into his voice and making her smile.

  "More than you can imagine," she whispered. Her hands slid over the broad planes of his back, her fingers threaded through his hair, taking him in, soaking up every detail, still not entirely convinced this was happening.

  His fingers pressed deep, circling, exploring, and within seconds Wendy was moaning, so close she knew one more brush of his thumb over her clit, one more hard suck at her nipple, would send her hurtling over the edge.

  She tugged at his wrist, trying to dislodge the hand between her legs. "Please... now... inside me…." was all she could manage. Drew was happy to oblige, his arm flailing out blindly until it came in contact with the bedside table. Seconds later, Wendy was watching him roll a condom down the length of his cock, so hard and thick just the sight of it made her body ache with need.

  And then, yes, God, he was inside of her, taking her in long, hard thrusts as he whispered over and over how good she felt, how much he'd missed her, needed her.

  "I missed you too," she gasped, clinging to him as her orgasm bore down on her with the force of a tidal wave. "So much, every second—" her voice stuck on a high, harsh cry as pleasure roared through her, all the more fierce because she'd been convinced just hours ago she'd never get to feel this way again.

  Drew's answering groan echoed through the bedroom as he held himself deep inside her, clutching her hips and holding her as though he meant to never let her go. She could feel him, bigger and harder than ever, the split second before he came and squeezed her body around him as he jerked and pulsed inside of her.

  They were silent for several moments, their hearts thudding against each other as they caught their breath. Then Drew propped himself on his elbow until his stare was level with hers. "I know you want me," he said, his grave, "But if you don't feel the same about the rest of it, you need to tell me now. I know you didn't think you had time for something like this when we started this and not much about your life has changed since then. But I'm about to hurl myself off a cliff here and do whatever it takes to make sure you stick around for the long haul."

  It wasn't the most romantic imagery in the world, but it pulled at some place deep inside her, a place in her heart she'd rarely exposed to another person. The dreamy, romantic place that still yearned to find the kind of man who was her equal in every way, in bed and out. The kind of man who would fight for her, fight for them, even if she sometimes lost her way.

  A man exactly like Drew, who had barged into her life and wouldn't take no for an answer, especially when it counted most.

  His face blurred as she brought her hand up to his face, tracing the softness of his lips, the hard line of his jaw, drinking in every detail of the face, she finally admitted to herself, she sincerely hoped she would see every day for the rest of her life. "I never expected to feel this way with you, and I kept trying to tell myself if I let myself fall for you, there was no way you'd ever get serious, so why bother. I thought I could be objective about it and let you go when the time came, but turns out I fell for you." He gave her a little grin and she felt her lips quirk in reply. "I fell for you hard," she admitted. "And now, when I've achieved the one thing that was so much more important than everything else, I'm finding it doesn't matter as much without you around."

  He bent his head and kissed her, licking inside her mouth to twine his tongue with hers. She sucked him in, savoring the taste of him, spicy and musky and salty too from tears. Hers, she thought, until he lifted his head and she saw his eyes were suspiciously shiny.

  "I'm afraid I didn't just fall for you, Wendy," he said, his voice a husky whisper. "I don't have a whole lot—hell, any—experience with this, but I'm pretty damn sure I fell in love with you."

  "Good," she said around a watery smile, "because I love you too."

  He kissed her again, and they were silent for several seconds, savoring the closeness.

  Wendy tried to keep reality out, but later as they feasted on Chinese take out, it niggled its way in.

  "Even if we're both committed, this long distance thing isn't going to be easy, you know," she said around a bite of cold sesame noodles.

  "No kidding," Drew said, and Wendy couldn't help but admire the way the muscles of his shirtless torso rippled as he stretched to reach a carton of fried rice. "Long distance would be impossible between us."

  Wendy's chopsticks froze halfway to her mouth. "I can't move to Boston. Just because making partner didn't make me the happiest woman on the planet doesn't mean I can just up and leave—"

  "I never said anything about you moving to Boston," Drew interrupted her tirade. "I'd never ask you to do that for me."

  Wendy felt like pinching herself, unable to believe there wasn't even the barest hint of resentment in his voice.

  "I'm
moving back here," he said simply.

  "You quit?"

  He quirked a dark, thick eyebrow at her. "I imagine I'd earn infinite blowjobs if I told you I quit my job, risked everything, and came out here to throw myself at your feet and beg for whatever scraps of your affection you were willing to give me."

  Wendy's own eyebrow quirked, and she couldn't stifle a grin. "But you can't?"

  "Afraid not. The board fired me before I could quit."

  "No way! Why?"

  His shoulders rolled in a shrug that was way too nonchalant for an executive of Drew's caliber who had just been ousted. "Company was a mess and they didn't like my ideas of how to fix it, so they showed me the door."

  "You seem rather happy about that."

  "How could I not be when it made me realize that my true calling in life isn't to be the turnaround guy for failing software startups, but something else entirely."

  "Oh yeah? What's that?"

  "I was wondering if one of the partners at Chapman Cooper was in the market for a full time houseboy."

  She was smiling so hard her cheeks started to hurt. "Really, I don't know if Cooper swings that way, but I can see if he's in the market."

  "Smartass," he said and tossed a chopstick at her. "Fine, the newest partner."

  She had no illusions that the corporate recruiters wouldn’t be on him like white on rice, and he'd be back to work in no time.

  But looking at the intensity behind his teasing grin, she knew in her heart that he wouldn't go very far.

  "Houseboy, huh?"

  "My condo's already in escrow. I thought maybe you'd let me work for room and board."

  "I suppose I can find a position for you," she teased.

  He leveled her with a look that threatened to burn the robe she was wearing right off her body. "I'm betting you can find a lot of positions for me." Seconds later, the cartons of Chinese food scattered to the floor as she eagerly demonstrated her favorite.

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