by Julie Leto
“Now, that, my dear, is how one wears that dress.”
Annie couldn’t believe her eyes. She suddenly had curves in all the right places and the color, while more suited for Bianca than her, picked up the honey highlights in her red hair.
“Bianca’s going to look beautiful,” she said on an amazed breath.
“You look beautiful.”
Only it wasn’t Tara who had made this assessment—it was Drew.
Joslyn’s assistant stepped out of the way so that Annie could emerge from the dressing room. Drew sat in one of the plush chairs in the center of the boutique and she couldn’t help but add a little sashay to her walk as she strode in front of him, directly across from the huge mirror. Before she turned and faced her reflection, she noted how his light brown gaze was now dark and intense. She’d seen arousal in his eyes only a few hours ago, but it was nothing compared to now. If the room wasn’t filled with windows and strangers, he might have ripped that dress off her right on the spot.
The feeling was intensely powerful.
“Won’t your sister look lovely?” she asked, twirling so that the soft material fluttered around her legs, revealing a slit she hadn’t realized was there.
Drew swallowed hard enough for her to see his Adam’s apple bob. “I’m not thinking about my sister.”
Tara laughed, probably to break the sensual tension spiking through the room. Somewhere in the back of her consciousness, Annie heard the woman explain how the bridesmaid’s dresses were similar in style, but were a lovely, light sage-green that would complement the emerald in Annie’s eyes.
Drew leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, then glanced at the rack of clothes Tara had rolled out from the workroom into the salon.
“What else does my sister get to wear once she’s wed?”
Tara darted to the collection and pulled out a sweet little sun-dress, an elegant pantsuit and two incredibly revealing swimsuits. She chattered while she moved them into the dressing area for Annie to try on, but before Annie could follow, Drew grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t take off the underwear,” he warned quietly.
Heat suffused through her body. “You’re not getting all hot over your sister’s sexy underthings, are you?”
“Hers is boxed up in the back, ready for our trip home. I bought this one for you.”
She stepped back in surprise. Drew stood, still holding tight to her wrist. His grin was pure sin, which melted her insides to a goo not unlike her favorite lubricant—cool at first, but insanely hot once he applied some friction.
“This is mine?” she asked.
“And an outfit for tonight.”
“Tonight?”
He said nothing more, but left her shivering with anticipation. The man certainly was full of surprises, not the least of which was that for the first time, he didn’t look at all like the young man she’d made up her mind that he was. Drew was an old soul—one that must have seduced countless women in a hundred lifetimes and now knew exactly what he was doing.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze. Annie dutifully tried on Bianca’s clothes, discarding her magical merry widow only to try Bianca’s bathing suits, both of which succeeded in striking Drew dumb. And she’d accomplished that without any help from enchanted underwear. In fact, in the single-shouldered, cutout one-piece, she accepted that her body really wasn’t so bad.
She did a lot of running around. A lot of lifting. She even jogged a few miles every other morning when her father came by to make the boys breakfast, a daily ritual that helped fill the gap of male influence in their lives. In the right clothes, she looked hot.
And with the right man watching her, she felt like the inside of a crucible.
An hour later, she was about to step back into her ordinary clothes when Tara knocked on the threshold beside the door.
“Aren’t we done?” Annie asked, surprised when Tara slid in another zippered bag.
“Bianca’s clothes are boxed up and the dress will be ready before you guys take off for Florida. This is for you.”
She leaned out of the curtain, expecting to see Drew, but he’d abandoned his chair.
“From Drew?”
Tara grinned. “These are from a retail line Joslyn is considering for Nordstrom. Designer, but with an everyday, every-woman feel.”
Inside the garment bag, Annie found a pretty, pale green bra, matching panties, a flouncy, short white skirt and an ocean-hued silk-blend top with three-quarter length fluttery sleeves and a plunging neckline. Two boxes—one with the gold shoes for the wedding and another with pale green high-heeled sandals that matched the blouse—arrived next. She immediately donned the outfit, hissing with pleasure at the final look.
“I sure hope Joslyn decides to do that line, because I’ll buy out Nordstrom’s with my retirement fund if I have to,” she said, giving her ass one more impressed look.
Tara gave a little bow. “I will pass along your compliments.”
“And my thanks, please.”
Tara opened her arms for a warm hug, utterly unexpected from such a fashionable New Yorker. “You’re more than welcome. Joslyn is trapped on a business call, but promises to see you at the wedding.”
Annie gathered her belongings, her old clothes tucked away in a designer Joslyn Jones shopping bag. She felt incredibly rich and elegant walking out of the shop, stopping dead when she spied Drew leaning against the hood of a bulky Hummer limousine.
He wolf whistled.
She smiled, then sauntered closer to him. With each step she took away from the boutique, she felt her old self bursting through—the sassy woman she’d been when she was jetting around the world, taking pictures that were published in National Geographic and The New Yorker. Not that she was ever a fashion maven. She existed in vintage jeans and hand-me-up T-shirts from Coop. But now that she was older and wiser, she needed to be smarter about how she looked. Not for Drew. Not for any man. For herself.
“What’s the car for?” she asked silkily, leaning on one hip to give him the full effect of her shapely legs.
He bit his lip hard and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, as if it took every ounce of his power to keep them to himself.
“I hired it to take us around town.”
She handed her packages to the driver, then climbed inside. The interior was a gloriously decadent combination of black leather and neon lights. The ceiling glittered with tiny lights and the seats curved in undulating patterns that made no question of this vehicle’s wicked decadence. In another time or place, Annie might have found the car tacky—but here and now, she was incredibly turned on.
Though she had not divulged her secret fantasy about making love in a luxury limo, she suspected—hoped—he’d guessed. Either way, she was determined to get another fantasy fulfilled. Wasn’t that, after all, what this trip was about?
9
THE MOMENT the car pulled away from the curb, Drew gasped. Annie had climbed atop his lap and was unbuckling the top of his jeans.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice a hot whisper in his ear.
He had to think. She’d started assaulting his neck with long, languorous licks and the only destination in his mind was heaven.
“To…a…spa.”
She tugged his shirt out of jeans, then ripped the tee over his head. “Tell the driver to take his time.”
Drew retained clarity long enough to inform the driver that they didn’t want to arrive at their destination for at least a half hour, though he amended his order to forty-five minutes when Annie slipped out of the flouncy blouse and shimmied out of the skirt. Without saying another word, she removed his pants and boxers, tossing them aside, and then directed him with forceful but wordless motions to spread his legs wide.
Her intentions were utterly illicit, painfully naughty and irresistibly awesome. He didn’t dare move, especially after she dropped to her knees and took his dick in her hands.
“This is one fine instrument you’v
e got here, mister.”
He swallowed, hoping he had enough moisture in his mouth to manage a few words.
“It’s finer when it’s played,” he replied.
She ringed her fingers at the base of his erection and tugged upward. “I’m no virtuoso.”
As she stroked him until blood thrummed in his ears in time with the heavy bass of the song playing over the limo’s speakers, he muttered, “You’re playing my song just fine.”
“I don’t know,” she said wickedly. “I think this song needs vocals.”
When she wrapped her lips around him, Drew nearly lost his mind. He instantly tangled his hands into her hair, loving the feel of the soft silk strands against his palms almost as much as he cherished the intimacy of her mouth on his sex. She sucked him, licked him and toyed with his tip with her tongue and teeth. He was certain he was going to lose it when she tightened her grip on him and kept his release at bay.
“What are you doing?” he asked, breathless.
She ran her tongue over her lips, pleased with herself. She obviously got off on the power of it, which heightened his arousal to levels he’d never felt before. His sweet Annie had a naughty streak he’d never anticipated—not to this degree. What exactly had he gotten himself into?
“I’m learning what you like,” she replied. “You’re so big and thick. I’m getting wet just imagining having you inside me again. I’m going to be on top this time. And I’m going to ride you until we both come.”
And she did. With more clarity of thought than he figured she could muster, she removed a condom from a box beside the backseat—a box he had not noticed before. She found a strawberry-flavored one, then tugged it over his engorged length and sucked him even more. From the way she let his head ripple over the ridges inside her mouth to the intensity with which she grasped him, she toyed with him until the brink of orgasm was only seconds away. Then she stopped, tore her thong to the side and mounted him.
She was wet and hot and insatiable. He moved aside the cups of her dainty bra and sucked her nipples with no mercy; she cried out with pleasure and increased the tempo of their mating until they were a blur of movement. His orgasm came without warning, but she joined him seconds later, pumping until she’d taken her fill.
“Wow,” he managed, though he wasn’t sure if the ability to speak in complete sentences was going to return anytime soon.
She leaned her forehead on his shoulder, panting, then raked her hair out of her face and stared at him unabashedly. “Didn’t wear you out, did I?”
“You kidding? As you keep pointing out, I’m a young man. Takes more than one horny cowgirl to put me down for the count.”
She tilted her eyebrow and nibbled at her lips with blatant expectation.
“You ready to put your money where your mouth is?”
He flicked the strap of her new lingerie. “Already have, but if you want more, I’m game.”
“Good,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him thoroughly. “Because I’m playing to win.”
FOR THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON, Drew attempted to regain the upper hand in his seduction of Annie Rush, but he never quite managed to top what she’d initiated in the back of the Hummer. After forty-five minutes of incredible sex, they headed to a salon where she had layers added to her short red hair and he had his mop trimmed before they shared a manicure, pedicure and facial. They ended the indulgence with a couple’s massage in a room scented by eucalyptus and then soaked in a hot tub that pushed their self-control to the limit since making love in the spa was strictly forbidden. After a quick trip back to the hotel for a shared bath, they’d dressed, grabbed a few slices of New York–style pizza and then headed to an art gallery in Soho that was showing the work of one of Annie’s former colleagues.
Annie jabbered constantly throughout the exhibit, telling him about the artist’s techniques, lighting and styles and waxing poetic about the locations of the shots, which she’d also visited at one time or another. By the time the gallery closed, she gripped his hand ever so slightly tighter than she had when they’d gone inside.
They made love quietly that night and held each other as they slept. The next morning, Drew coaxed Annie out of the bed with a promise of another amazing day in the city, but which she countered with a quickie in the shower before they left. They spent the day as tourists, popping into museums and shops, riding the ferry around to see the Statue of Liberty, hanging out in Times Square to lose themselves in the anonymity of the crowd.
That night, they savored a long meal at a tiny French bistro that had been recommended by several locals. The rich meal and abundant wine inspired them to stroll back to the hotel, enjoying the neighborhood while they talked about his life, her loves and the craziness that was Little League.
“I can’t believe you did all this,” she said, hooking her arm into his and leaning softly against his shoulder.
He inhaled her sweet, scented hair, then placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
She laughed. “Enjoyed myself? Drew, you tapped directly into my every fantasy.”
He slipped his arm out of hers and put it around her waist, pulling her flush against him. They were under a streetlamp. The sidewalk wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t deserted, either. He felt a few people shift to get around them, but he didn’t care. He had to tell her how he felt at this perfect, glorious moment. “Annie, I’d move heaven and earth for you.”
Her smile reached deep into her emerald irises, but he still spied a sense of disbelief amid her outward happiness. Maybe it was the way she tilted her head. Or the slight quiver in her chin.
“You’ve moved me in more ways than you think,” she said.
“But is it enough to last beyond our flight home tomorrow?”
Her smile instantly turned bittersweet.
He had his answer.
When they reached the corner of a busy intersection, Drew hailed a cab. They slid into the backseat and held hands like teenagers all the way back to the hotel, not uttering a single word. By the time they reached their destination, Drew had difficulty figuring out how much to tip the driver with his mind reeling at all they’d shared—and all they hadn’t.
To keep the wedding on schedule, they had to leave New York in the morning. He only had a few more hours to convince Annie that they should be together. Publicly. And hopefully, permanently.
“Let me get some of those,” she said, indicating the packages they’d collected during their long day.
“I’m fine. Why don’t you go on upstairs? I’m going to check with the front desk and make sure they cancelled your room.”
With a hint of reluctance, she did as he asked. He needed a few minutes to think—tonight was his last shot. After verifying that the hotel had credited them for the second room they’d never used, he detoured into the gift shop, hoping for a little inspiration.
And a little more time.
He gravitated toward the jewelry counter and was immediately struck with an idea. In the last two days, he’d appealed to the woman he knew that Annie used to be—adventurous, sexual, fearless. If he wanted her to see him as a part of her very real, very ordinary everyday life, he had to show her he appreciated the woman she was now.
The woman she’d always be.
He took his time choosing just the right gifts and had them individually boxed. When he reached the room, he discovered the bathroom door closed and heard water running.
He knocked lightly. “Annie?”
“Hey, Drew,” she said, opening the door a crack. Her eyes were puffy, but he couldn’t tell if she’d been crying or if she’d simply rubbed too hard while removing her eye makeup.
“You okay?”
“I had to call my kids.”
She sniffed, blotted her face with a towel and put on her best smile.
Everything was not okay.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“With the boys? Nothing. They’re having a great tim
e with their grandparents.”
She probably missed Andy and Will like crazy. After hearing her talk about them off and on through out the day, even he missed them. The idea, however fleeting, of being their stepfather filled his chest with emotion.
He clutched the gift shop bag tighter. He had one last shot at her. After tonight, he might not get another chance.
“Why don’t you finish in there and I’ll order up some wine,” he suggested.
“Didn’t we polish off two bottles at the restaurant?”
“Brandy, then?”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Only if it’ll help me get lucky again,” he answered.
“You don’t need booze for that and you know it,” she said, her grin reappearing.
“Then we’ll just sip to celebrate the end of a spectacular day.”
Room service brought up a bottle of his favorite Armagnac, two snifters and a small silver platter of crystallized pear, a nice accompaniment Drew never would have thought of. He stripped down to his boxers and set the tray on the bed, dimming the lights and fiddling with the clock radio on the nightstand until he found a station with mellow music. Love songs from any number of eras, from hers to his and beyond. When she finally emerged from the bathroom, she was wearing the beautiful cream-colored corset and panties.
She took a minute to strike a sexy pose with the golden light from the bathroom behind her, outlining her silhouette in ways that made Drew hard all over, and then she slowly stretched across the bed, belly down. The sight of her curvaceous bottom forced him to grab a snifter and inhale deeply before he totally forgot his intentions.
She snaked her fingers around the stem of her drink and drew it close to her lips, but did not sip. “You were downstairs a long time.”
He sipped the brandy. The smooth golden liquid eased down his throat, creating a warmth that intensified as he looked into her hooded eyes. “I had last-minute shopping to do.”
His mouth watered as she shifted on the bed, leaning forward so that her nipples peeked a bit out of the top of the corset. She picked a cube of crystallized pear out of the tray, popped it in her mouth, then closed her eyes as the sweetness dissolved on her tongue. She finally took a sip of the liqueur, and hummed her appreciation for the combined flavors.