by Ann Collins
He stepped back and put some distance between them, then started with his clothes. His shirt came off first, and she marveled at the lines of his body, at the way he was hardened by work but still soft enough to cuddle. He had a small scar on his shoulder, and there was another one on his side. There was a handsome helping of freckles.
She realized then that she had never truly seen him in the light before – their time together had been either a quick coupling in his garage or a romp with the lights out. So she reached out with one hand and touched his chest, stilling him. “Slow,” she said. “I want to really look at you this time.”
And so she did. He took his time, dragging off his jeans, slipping down the boxers underneath, showing her everything that she already knew intimately but had never truly seen before. She saw the tattoo again – she remembered that, and it made her smile. She saw the lean legs, the way he almost stumbled as he stepped out of his jeans, the shy blush when she laughed. She saw what was hard and ready for her, heavier than she remembered, now hers to savor.
Her eyes took in every last inch as he undressed for her. And when he was done, they stood in the light of her bedroom, taking each other in with a slowness that hadn’t been present in their other encounters.
“How are your knees?” he asked, and it took her a moment before she realized what he meant.
“Just fine. Didn’t you see me dancing tonight?”
“So pressure on them is okay now?”
She knew what he meant, and she began laughing. Immediately he joined her, and then it was the most natural thing in the world for her to open her arms to him. He came to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, and that skin-on-skin contact took her breath away so fast that her laugh stopped in mid-stride.
“What did you have in mind?” she whispered breathlessly.
He knelt before her and picked her up. He did it without any strain at all, as if she was as light as a feather. She laughed again as he lowered her to the bed. He flicked on the light on the bedside table and went to the wall to turn off the light that shone so brightly on them from the ceiling fan. With the shadows dancing around them, he came back to the bed and crawled onto it with her.
“I have so many things in mind,” he murmured. “Let’s start with this…”
A few moments later his mouth was between her legs. She arched into the sensation, grabbing fistfuls of the comforter in her hands and twisting hard, nonsense words pouring from her as he gave her one wave of pleasure after another. He got her close to the edge and then backed off, taking his time, learning her in a way that she knew would be put to good use again and again and again.
When she couldn’t take anymore, when she was right at the verge of begging, he grabbed her hips hard with his hands and flicked his tongue mercilessly, right where it counted most. When she came it was with a shout loud enough to echo through the big house. She was still trembling when he rose above her, staring down into her eyes.
“I want you inside me,” she gasped. “Now.”
She snatched at his arm, trying to bring him closer, but still he held away from her. “I won’t last long enough to give you any pleasure that way,” he said.
But what she wanted wasn’t another rush of pleasure for herself – what she wanted was to experience his. So rather than try to persuade him, she did the next best thing. She pushed on his shoulders until he was lying down, and then she rose up on her knees to straddle him.
It hurt to be on her knees, after all. But the ache was quickly overtaken by the pleasure, especially when she saw the desire in his eyes as he looked at her body. She poised over him, letting him drink in his fill, and then slowly guided him into her. She was only halfway down when he grabbed her hips and stopped her.
“Slow,” he warned. “I’m already close.”
In any other circumstances this might have been cause for disappointment, but tonight it was exactly what she wanted to hear. “I know you can go at least four or five times in one night,” she pointed out. “So a fast one isn’t going to make much of a difference, is it?”
“But…”
“And I want to feel you come,” she whispered, and watched him swallow hard. “I want to feel you fill me up. I didn’t appreciate it enough when you did it in your shop. I want to feel every drop of it now, and I want to savor it, over and over, all night long.”
She slid all the way down on him. Anders groaned and arched his hips, pushing deeper into her. She planted her hands on his chest to brace herself and began to move up and down, sliding him slowly in and out of her at first, then faster. She watched as he bit his lip, trying to hold back. His eyes fluttered closed, then open, then closed. His hands were tight on her hips, not guiding her, but just holding her as she drove him closer and closer to the edge.
“I’m going to come,” he whispered.
“Good,” she said, smiling down at him. She sped up, the pain in her knees forgotten. The only thing that mattered was the way he felt inside her, filing her up with each thrust, until he stiffened underneath her and cried out.
She pushed down hard, taking all of him in, so deep that it almost hurt. She closed her eyes and felt what she had wanted so badly – the deep throbbing, the wetness, the strong jerk of him within her as he emptied everything he had into her. She sat very still on him, staying right there until his body relaxed and he came back down to earth.
Then she sat up straight, wiggled her hips, looked at him with a rakish grin and said, “So, how much time do you need before round two?”
Chapter Eleven
Anders rolled over, careful not to move too much, but he needn’t have bothered. The bed was enormous, a mattress of the highest quality, and Kara hadn’t felt a single move he made. She was sound asleep and utterly naked, one leg thrown on top of the covers, the other tangled up in them. Her hair fanned out on the pillow behind her. She was breathing so deeply that Anders had to lean forward and watch her belly for a moment to make sure it was moving. He stared at her a moment longer, admiring her small, firm breasts and the fact that she could sleep like the dead.
Then he slowly rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom. When he was done, she was still sleeping soundly, so he slipped on his jeans and decided to take a look around – on his own this time, so he could ogle the place as much as he liked.
Walking down the wide hallway toward the curved staircase, he paused to look at the variety of classic art on the walls, to relish the feel of the opulent carpet that seemed to nestle against his toes with every step he took. He ran his hand down the hand-carved railing, looking at the chandelier for a long moment, and then turned into the kitchen, where he flattened his hands against the cold granite countertop and stared at the wide window over the apron sink.
This house was a symbol of money. The richness oozed out of every corner. Anders was used to comfortable surroundings, those that were created out of age and time and necessity rather than wealth. He loved his old recliner, the one that his father had broken in, the one that suited his butt just fine when he sat down in it. He liked his kitchen table, the one that had all the little scratches from various pots and pans and dishes over the years. He really loved his couch, where he could sleep just as heartily as he did in bed, the couch that had been comfortable when he was a teenager but was even more comfortable now it had another decade of use behind it.
But this house…this house was comfortable in a different kind of way. It was comfortable in the way that said if someone didn’t like the couch, they could simply buy another one. If the kitchen table was scratched, it could be replaced. Old recliners wouldn’t fit in here.
He looked up at the ceiling, at the fine moldings there, and he wondered again if he could be good enough for this woman. Then he thought about the conversation he’d been having with Dallas before Kara arrived.
“How can I possibly give a woman like that what she needs?”
Her reply was as soft yet direct as always – Dallas had somethi
ng of a gift for that. “You can and you do, already,” she said. “That’s why you’re there, isn’t it? She doesn’t need riches. She’s got those already.”
She doesn’t need riches , she’s got those already .
In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how much she’d put herself out there for him. He was the one who’d messed up, exposed all his insecurities, and she’d gone well out of her way just to find him. She was completely out of her comfort zone in that bar – she looked like someone trying to ice skate in high heels at first – but she’d not let the place faze her. And by the end of the night she’d fitted in there like anyone else. If she could do it, then why couldn’t he?
But there were other obstacles – bigger obstacles. He’d already lost his business. He couldn’t afford to lose his house, too. His father, God rest his soul, had literally built that place with his own hands. Plus where would he live?
And then there was Kara – she’d said her career was at stake. How could he possibly ask her to put that on the line?
This can’t work . This could never work .
He snuck back up to the master bedroom and took one last look at the sleeping Kara, just watching as her chest rose and fell. Then he slipped on his remaining clothes and headed softly down the stairs.
The front door closed behind him with a quiet click and he walked away.
***
Anders leaned back against the low perimeter wall and looked up at the garage and its surroundings. This was it – the business his father built up, and that he had brought back down, first to its knees financially, and then finally to ruination because of a woman that he couldn’t even have anyway.
“You gotta follow your heart,” his dad always used to say. “But for God’s sake don’t leave the head behind.”
What would he think of him now? It was hard to imagine there’d be any pride involved.
Some part of Anders heard the car approaching, but the unexpected scrunch of gravel made him start. A black car with tinted windows pulled up on the driveway. Kara? Anders watched and waited. Finally the door popped open, and a pair of immaculate brogues appeared followed by their owner, clad in a high-class suit.
“I thought I might find you here,” said Scott, plucking off his leather driving gloves one finger at a time.
Anders stared at him, his eyes narrowing. How much he’d love to give that guy a good, solid whack in the face. And then some.
If Scott sensed the physical danger of the situation, he didn’t show it. “I think I’ve made my point Mr. Wallace. And with that in mind, I’ve got a simple proposition for you.”
“Go on.” Anders was intrigued – what on earth could this creep possibly have to offer?
“This place” – he gestured around the garage – “you get all this back. And you get time to work on it and build it back up. No questions. Things go back to how they were. As bad as they were, that is.”
It seems too good to be true, which means it probably is .
“What’s the catch?”
“You never speak to Kara again.”
“And what if I don’t want to cooperate?”
Scott leaned in, his top lip rising up into a sneer and his voice becoming a controlled whisper. “Then I’ll take your house off you too. Perhaps I'll make it my own personal hunting lodge for weekend getaways. You know, to take Kara there and show her a good time..." His voice trailed off as he uttered the last line. "That, or I could just have it demolished. Either or."
Anders stared right into his eyes. Scott stared back, unmoved. For a moment the two men were locked in a visual grapple.
“Think about it,” said Scott putting his gloves back on. “But don’t take too long. It’s really pretty simple.”
The gravel crunched once more as the vehicle left, backing up from the garage as though in disdain, then surged away leaving little clouds of dust just hanging there in the air.
Chapter Twelve
Kara stood in her office. Opposite her was a familiar figure in a high-class, tailored suit, and he was holding her hand. Somehow the office didn’t feel quite like it was hers any more. In fact her very life didn’t feel like it was hers any more. But at least it was all over. Because she’d made the decision. She was going back to Scott.
“I’ve told your friend he can have his business back,” said Scott.
At least that’s something . Kara still bristled at the thought of what he’d done, but at least he’d put it right in the end. The best she could hope for now was damage limitation. She also noted that he avoided using his trademark scoffing language about Anders. He’d obvious learned better from his previous experiences. Or maybe it was just that much easier to be magnanimous if you were the victor.
“I know you’re not happy,” he said. “I know you haven’t been for a while. But we can work through it. It’s in both our interests. It makes a lot of sense, if you think about it rationally.” He squeezed her shoulder with his free hand. It was a peculiar kind of contact, like the kind you’d get from an acquaintance, like he’d forgotten how they used to touch each other.
It was going to be strange getting back to normal life with Scott. The first kiss of their renewed relationship – how would that be? And the first time they went to bed together – could she even go through with that? None of it appealed to her, but she figured she’d get used to it in time. After all, it was the right thing to do. The correct, mature, adult thing to do.
She slowly nodded and took a deep breath, and prepared her throat to emit that solitary defining word – Yes. But before she could even do that, there was a knock at the door.
“Busy!” called Kara
“Yeah…it’s kind of important.”
Oh my God - Anders!
“Come in,” she said, trying to sound normal, despite feeling her heart rising up in her chest
In he came, in his best approximation of dressed up. He entered with confidence but immediately looked thrown by the sight of the two of them standing so close and holding hands. She could see the conclusion forming on his face as his eyes darted between them.
“Mr. Blake,” said Anders.
“Mr. Wallace,” said Scott, smiling.
Oh my God. Was she going to burst into tears? This was the man she wanted – right here in front of her – but so far away.
“It’s time for me to do the right thing,” said Anders, almost sounding apologetic. “To put my life back on the right track, finally.”
He turned to look at Scott directly. “It’s all yours. You won.”
Kara just stood there, trying to understand the meaning of the words that were leaving Anders’ mouth. Scott, meanwhile, surveyed the situation, a thin smile forming on his lips.
“Scott…uh…Mr. Blake here made me an offer. Told me I could have the business back, but only if I stopped speaking to you. Or I could carry on and lose the rest, too.”
Kara turned to Scott, with disgust rapidly forming on her face, and dropped his hand. Did this man really have no boundaries?
“Kara,” he said, taking a bold step forward. “I’d rather lose everything and know that I tried, than live the rest of my life thinking about what might’ve been.”
Her heart fluttered…. Was he saying what she thought he was?
“If you want me, I’m right here.”
She covered her mouth to conceal the little cry that came out, while Scott’s smile changed to a grimace, and then a look of sheer malevolence.
“Scott…” she said. “I’m sorry.”
She had to do it. And the time to act was now. She walked over and took Anders by the hand. Whatever the cost was – it was worth it. She just regretted it had to happen like this.
At one time she had loved Scott. She really had. But it was the kind of love that came from proximity, from knowing that a certain someone was right for her and would fit into her life as neatly as a book would slide onto the right shelf at the library. It was the kind of love that was servic
eable and could have lasted a long time, as long as she had never known what real passion was.
When she met Anders, that passion had made itself clear. And once she had gone down that road, she could never go back.
But there was a storm coming now, and no mistake.
“So I guess you think it’s all settled now, don’t you?” Scott paced about in slow controlled steps. Kara knew that this was never a good sign. “You have no idea how much you’re going to regret this. I’ll make you pay – both of you!”
“Hey Anders!” he said, in a voice thick with angry sarcasm, “How’s business? Oh wait – let me answer that for you. Business is bad. In fact business doesn’t exist. Business is about to get bulldozed in front of your eyes while I laugh my ass right off. In fact I’m going to drive the bulldozer.”
“And when I’ve done that,” he continued, his voice descending to a sinister whisper, “I’ll turn it round and head for your house.”
Anders face tightened and his eyes narrowed, but he stood firm.
“Scott,” said Kara, interrupting his flow, “you’re just a deeply unpleasant human being. Not only do I not love you – I don’t even like you.”
“I haven’t even started yet, cookie,” he said. “Because you’re out of business, too. You’ve made your bed – now you’ve got to lie on it.”
“Look,” said Anders to Kara. “We can’t do this. I can’t let you throw your career away like this.”
“You better shut up right now, mister,” she said, tears ready to spill from the overwhelming tide of emotion. “I know what I want – and it’s you.”
“Just wait ‘til your father finds out!” said Scott, redoubling his efforts. “Your father, who us Blakes practically own. What do you think he’ll do? Huh? I’ll tell you what he’ll do…”