Sexcapades

by Christine d'Abo

  “It’s fine. You can always buy me a motorized cart to get around. A Porsche. You can afford a few, right?”

  Petra was in a haze as she righted her bra and found her clothing. The sex between them had always been good, but this had jumped beyond that and into the land of holy-shit-what-the-hell-was-that? “Darcy?”

  He’d disposed of the condom and was quickly doing up his shirt. “Yeah?”

  Whoa. That wasn’t the sound of a man who’d just had awesome sex. “What’s wrong?”

  He spun around. For a moment she thought he was going to snap, but the words didn’t seem to come. Then as quickly as his anger appeared, it faded. “Nothing.” He shook his head. “A Porsche?”

  Oh no. “Darcy, I was kidding.”

  “Of course.” He stared intently at his cuffs as he adjusted them. “But you could really use that grand prize, right?”

  “Mac and cheese might be a staple of my diet, but there are a lot of people worse off.”

  Darcy nodded.

  Petra couldn’t quite figure out how things had changed so quickly. “Are we okay?” Because if they weren’t, she had no idea what to do about it. She wasn’t entirely certain she knew what had happened.

  He waited until she was done pulling on her own shirt before he came over to her. Using both hands, he fixed her hair, tucking several strands behind her ears.

  “Yeah, we’re good.” He wouldn’t make eye contact with her.

  That wasn’t right. “But?”

  “But, I’m worried that things aren’t happening between us for the right reasons.”

  “What do you mean?” Were they breaking up? Could they break up if they weren’t actually dating?

  “It means I think we need to slow things down a bit. I need—” He gave his head a shake. “Honestly, I don’t know what the hell I need anymore.”

  “Oh.” The euphoria from the sex blew away, leaving numbness in its wake. “I don’t think I understand—”

  “I don’t think you should stay at home, though. Have Alice put you up so you’re not alone.”

  “Sure.”

  Darcy tapped his hand along the side of his thigh. “Why don’t you leave first? I’ll stay here so people don’t see us walking out of the building together. No sense in giving that damned reporter any more ammunition than what he has already.”

  Her voice refused to work any longer, so she nodded and made her way across the room. A part of her was waiting for him to say something to stop her. They’d just had awesome, down-and-dirty possessive sex and yet here she was leaving. That was wrong on more levels than she could say.

  But Darcy didn’t call out to her when she put her hand on the doorknob. He didn’t clear his throat when she pulled the door open and stepped into the hall. He certainly didn’t come after her as she made her way toward the front door.

  No. No frigging way was she was going to leave things like this. Going back to face him, Petra crossed her arms and glared at him.

  “I’m not going to pretend I understand what’s going on here. Five minutes ago I would have sworn things were better than ever between us. That was some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had. Yes, even hotter than the kinky stuff. You like to think you’re above other guys, that you’re more aware of what women want. But you know what? You’re an idiot when it comes to analyzing yourself.

  “I was kidding. No other man I know, and trust me when I say I know a lot of jerks, would have reacted that way to such a stupid comment. You’ve got these gold digger issues because of something some bitch did to you. I’m sorry for that. I, of all people, get that. I started Sexcapades because my ex called me an ice princess whose pussy wouldn’t melt an icicle. But do you know what, I eventually got over it. Slowly, painfully, but I got there.”

  Darcy hadn’t moved during her tirade, but he’d grown pale. Good. It served him right for being such a dick.

  Petra let her hands fall to her sides, knowing there was little chance Darcy would say anything in response. He’d need time. The question was whether or not she was willing to give it to him.

  “You’re a good man, but you really are an ignorant Neanderthal. I wondered when we first met why you were single. You’re good looking, successful and a great guy. But I think I understand now. For whatever reason, you’re scared to put yourself out there. You’re scared to take a chance and commit yourself to a relationship. It’s really sad.”

  “Don’t go there.” His eyes narrowed and his hands had balled into fists. “Every day I have to sit in a chair and listen to women and children talk about the shit they go through on a daily basis. Abuse and neglect that has killed their spirits. I sometimes talk to the men, and they don’t see what they’ve done wrong. Every single day I’m reminded of how shitty relationships can become. They didn’t start out that way, but that’s their conclusion. So if I have issues with commitment, then I have a damn good reason.”

  “And you think you’re going to end up the same way?” Knowing the truth made it worse. If this was simply him worried about her taking his money, Petra could have dealt with that. But this... God, there was nothing she could do about something like this.

  Giving her head a shake, Petra opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The soft click of the latch fastening behind her could have been a gunshot the way it made her flinch.

  Fuck.

  She needed Alice. And wine. And maybe even a good cry. As she made her way down the street, she pulled her cell from her pocket and turned it on.

  One message.

  Petra stopped, her finger hesitating above the answer key. If this was from her stalker, she’d save it and make a note in the journal she’d started. When it was Alice’s voice that came through the speaker, Petra let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  “Hey hon. I’m sorry I haven’t answered your calls. I’m...going to be out of town for a bit. And out of cell range. Something, ah, came up and I have to handle it. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ll tell you about it when I get back. Bye!”

  Well shit.

  Alice was gone and Darcy had pushed her away. It wasn’t like she had family in Toronto who she could crash with.

  That left home.

  God, she hoped there was wine in the cupboard.

  Petra flagged a cab and prayed she’d make it to her condo before the tears came.

  Chapter Fourteen

  PC? Where the hell are you?

  —D. Williams, Mantastic — advice for REAL men

  It had been a long time since Darcy had gotten drunk. First, it took a lot of alcohol for him to reach the desired state of inebriation. That much booze wasn’t healthy. Second, he hated losing control. But given his current state of self-pity, he was willing to give it a go.

  Currently, his head was pleasantly fuzzy from the copious amount of scotch he’d consumed on an empty stomach. It was something he’d certainly pay for later, but for the time being he welcomed the numbness.

  He’d fucked Petra damn near raw in a stranger’s office. Seeing Evan’s and that reporter’s hands on her had woken a part of him he hadn’t realized existed. The urge to lock her up, strip her naked, and keep her like that for the rest of her life while he gave her more pleasure than she’d be able to handle had been overwhelming. That wasn’t him. Sure, he’d always wanted to protect women. His father had taught him that they were meant to be cherished and loved. He’d spent his adult life striving to live up to that expectation.

  He wasn’t ready to even think about her comments about his fear of commitment.

  “Dude.”

  Darcy rolled his head to look over at his brother. “Yo.”

  “You’re hosed.”

  “Bordering on shitfaced.”

  It only took the encouragement of holding out the bottle for Danny to join him on the floor. “Dare I ask?” Danny took a swig before handing it back. “At least that’s not the good stuff. It would be a waste.”

  “I had mind-blowing sex.” Strange,
that didn’t sound as bad as it felt.

  “Okay... I’m waiting to hear the next part.”

  “There isn’t a next part.”

  “The last time I checked, mind-blowing sex wasn’t a reason to get drunk. Not alone, at least.”

  Darcy pulled his knees up and pressed his forehead to them. “I think I might have screwed up.”

  “I find it hard to believe that Mr. Perfect could do that, let alone admit to it.”

  “I’m not perfect.”

  “What happened?” Danny gave Darcy’s shoulder a squeeze before stealing the bottle back. “Is this about PC?”

  “I did say I had mind-blowing sex.” He hadn’t been able to look at her as she’d left the office. Confusion had been all over her face, a face that should only ever wear an expression of sated joy. “She’s being harassed and possibly stalked.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “We think someone got her number from the awards competition. People have accused us of rigging the competition, so I’ve decided to take your advice to stay away from her until it’s over.” Darcy looked over at his brother when a smart-assed response didn’t immediately come. “What?”

  “You seriously put the site before her? I thought you liked her?”

  “I do! Christ, what kind of asshole do you think I am?”

  “A big one, apparently. No competition is worth putting your woman at risk.”

  “But you said you needed this for the job. Your portfolio?”

  Danny rolled his eyes before taking another drink. “Dude, I’ll find another way. There are other jobs out there.”

  “Not your dream one.”

  “And how much of an asshole would I be to put my career in front of someone else’s safety?”

  “There’s a grand prize of twenty-five thousand.”

  “Fuck you. I know that. Withdraw Mantastic from the competition, go to your girl, and make sure she’s fine.”

  “Really? The money would be more than enough for you to move wherever you needed to look for work. It would be a huge help.”

  Danny closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cushions. “Darce, I know you think I’m still the kid who decided to take the scenic route through high school and university, but I’m not. Plus, dad would kick your ass for thinking he raised us to put money first. I can figure my own shit out. You make sure you do what you need to do.”

  For the first time in a long while, Darcy really looked at his baby brother. The same carefree spirit was there, but this time he could see it was tempered with a growing sense of wisdom.

  “You’re good people, Danny.”

  “You’re not too bad yourself.” Danny grinned.

  “Petra. Her name is Petra and I think I might have a thing for her.”

  “Like a thing, thing?”

  “Mind. Blowing. Sex.”

  Danny chuckled. “And?”

  “And she makes me laugh.” A lot more than that. Every time he was in her company, the weight that pressed down on him lightened. More than that, for the first time he wanted to have a woman in his life. She could look after him as much as he could care for her.

  “Then that’s reason enough. You don’t laugh as much as you should.” Danny pulled back and looked hard at him. “There’s something else wrong. And don’t try to shit me and tell me there isn’t. I can tell.”

  The weight of his head suddenly became too much for Darcy to handle. Resting his forehead on his knees did little to relieve the pressure building inside him. “Do you think I have commitment issues?”

  “Yes.”

  Darcy peeked up. “What?”

  “Dude, have you seen some of the women you date? They’re totally wrong for you. They push you in ways that everyone and their dog can see annoy the hell out of you. Mom, Dad and I take bets on how long it will be before you dump them. Mom’s currently winning.”

  “The fuck?”

  “Darce, your job’s killing you. I don’t know how you handle a lot of the stuff that you do, and maybe you don’t. But it’s understandable that you don’t want to be with someone if you’re seeing nothing but the worst of people all the time.”

  “I want to be with Petra.” He’d known the truth from the moment she’d walked out the door. For a moment, he almost called out to her, wanting her to run back into his arms and hold him, to tell him that everything would be okay. “She’s the first woman I’ve been with who I could be myself around.”

  “But you fucked it up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you fix it?”

  Could he? If it was any other woman, he would assume he’d be able to sweet-talk his way back into her life. But Petra had her own love-wounds, and he had no doubt it wouldn’t be as easy as he’d want to grovel his way back to her.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Danny stood up, taking the bottle from Darcy as he went. “Well, you won’t know until you try. Call her. I’ll take care of the committee. I’ll offer to drop Mantastic from the competition if it will make a difference.”

  Darcy struggled to his feet, managing to place a sloppy kiss on the top of Danny’s head as he went, while ignoring the gagging sounds his brother made. He’d have to call her cell phone because he didn’t have a clue where Alice lived. He assumed she’d be there by now.

  “What time is it?”

  “Dude, how long have you been drinking? It’s seven.”

  Ouch. “Been at it for a little while now.”

  Fumbling, he dialed her cell phone and waited, not at all surprised when it went to voice mail. She probably had it turned off in case her caller decided to make another attempt. Doing a quick search on his smartphone, he found her landline and called. Still nothing.

  “I wish I knew Alice’s last name,” he said to Danny.

  He called her cell a second time and left a message. “Hey. It’s me. I...ah. I’d like to see you. So I can explain. And apologize. ’Cause I was a jerk. Call me, please.”

  Darcy spent the next hour doing his best to sober up and not worry that Petra hadn’t gotten back to him. He had no doubt she was angry at his irrational, post sex spaz-out. Darcy was more than a little annoyed too. He’d always taken things too seriously. It was one of the reasons why being D. Williams had been so freeing for him. Bantering with Petra forced him to take a step back and have some fun. While life wasn’t full of non-stop laughs, you had to take the joy where it was presented. Petra made him happy.

  Danny left at the end of hour two, telling him that the committee would take their request under advisement before he left. “They don’t want to give in to what they feel are irrational demands. But if it comes down to it, they know where we stand.”

  Darcy tried calling Petra’s cell three more times, not wanting to leave messages in case it freaked her out. In the time they’d been together, she’d checked her phone frequently, so he had no doubt she’d get his message. If she were still pissed at him, then that would explain why she hadn’t called him back. Maybe he’d try again.

  “Hi there. I can’t take your call at the moment. Please leave a—”

  “Shit.” Where the hell was she?

  His head started pounding around the three-hour mark and he had to abandon his coffee for water, hoping to hydrate himself out of the hangover. He should call Frank down at the precinct to see if there were any other precautions they should be taking. Maybe get some advice on how to handle things. Better yet, he should go see his friend in person.

  He wasn’t in any shape to drive, but he could take a cab downtown. On the way he could get the taxi to stop at Petra’s building so he could make sure everything was fine. If she was at Alice’s, then she might appreciate someone checking up on the place. Even though he didn’t have a key. Or any reason to do this.

  Fuck it.

  It was nearly ten o’clock when Darcy stepped out of the cab, overpaying for the short drive and asking the driver to wait ten minutes. The jerking elevator shook him free from the remnants of his sho
rt-lived drunk. There was no way she was here. Petra was tucked up neatly with her friend. They were probably drinking, themselves, and complaining about men.

  Still, he hesitated before knocking. She wasn’t here. Couldn’t be here no matter how much he wanted her to be.

  Fuck it.

  He knocked loud enough for the neighboring condos to have heard. There wasn’t a sound from inside her condo, no flicker of light from beneath the door to indicate someone was home and simply ignoring him.

  “This is stupid.” Letting his hand fall to his side, Darcy leaned in and pressed his forehead to the door. “Idiot.”

  “Um, why are you leaning on my door?”

  Darcy rolled his head and saw Petra standing in the hallway, carrying a laundry basket. She’d changed into shorts and a tank top, her hair pulled into a ponytail.

  “You’re here.” His relief was short-lived when his still too slow brain caught up to the situation. “Wait, why are you here? I thought you were going to Alice’s.”

  “She had to go out of town. Mind moving? This is heavy.”

  He stumbled to the side, giving her room to slip her key into the lock. Petra tried to slip inside without him, but Darcy managed to get his hand up in time to stop her. “Hey, can we talk?”

  “I’m pretty sure you made yourself clear earlier.”

  “I’m sorry. I came over here to tell you that you were right and that I’m sorry.”

  Petra set her laundry basket down and pushed it aside with her foot. “Apology accepted. It still doesn’t change anything.”

  “Yes it does. I’m saying that you’re right. Even Danny said it was true. Apparently my family bets on how long it is until I dump a girl. I didn’t even realize... But you’re different.”

  Petra pressed her head against the door jam, her fingers flexing against the wood. “I can’t handle this.”

  “Handle what? There’s nothing to handle.” Maybe he wasn’t as sober as he wanted to think, because this conversation wasn’t making sense.

  “Darcy, I’m not good at the whole relationship thing. I’m not good with people, I panic in crowds, and every man I’ve ever been with has found some reason to break things off with me. I let myself get emotionally invested too quickly and then I’m a mess for months when things go wrong. I swore to myself when I started Sexcapades that I wouldn’t do that to myself ever again.”