30 Days

by Christine d'Abo

  I had a thing for him. Purely lust.

  It pissed me off as much as it terrified me.

  In the twenty minutes I’d paced around my condo, my mind had spun around, shifting from anger, to embarrassment, to the thought of what to do with Rob’s cards. I’d stopped pacing, picked up the deck, and knew that if I was actually going to try this, Harrison was my best option.

  Well, he was a safe option. Not to mention that he checked off a lot of my mental boxes when it came to finding someone to explore this with.

  Close by. Hot. Not a complete creep. Hot. Will be gone in a few months.

  Hot.

  Was this cheating? It felt that way even though Rob was not only gone, but had more than given me his permission to do this very thing. So why did it feel like I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life in taking Rob’s advice?

  If nothing else, even if he turned me down, Harrison struck me as the sort of man who’d have some solid advice to offer on how to approach men. He was one, after all. Presumably, he knew what he liked from women. And his advice would be a hell of a lot more recent than what Mr. Le Page had to offer. Dinner and ballroom dancing lessons? Yeah no.

  Really, I had nothing to lose.

  Nope, nothing at all.

  I got up the nerve to knock once more when Harrison didn’t answer immediately. I was totally going to count to ten and then I was out of here. I could apologize the next time I saw him in the hall. Because clearly if he didn’t show then this was the universe telling me that this was a bad idea.

  One.

  A really bad idea.

  Two.

  A really, really bad idea.

  Three.

  There was a thump somewhere beyond the door and I considered running away. Four. Maybe he hadn’t heard the knock? I should probably knock again. Five. Right?

  Sixseveneightnineten. Oh well, guess he didn’t hear me. Time to go.

  I turned and managed to get five steps away before I heard the door open behind me.

  “Come to toss another drink in my face?”

  Now, I suspect there would be many men who wouldn’t greet me with such a teasing voice after having had a pint of warm beer sloshed over them, but lucky for me Harrison didn’t appear to be one of them. As much as I would have preferred to continue my retreat to the safety of my condo, I couldn’t leave things on bad terms with him. If nothing else, he was my neighbor and I needed to act like a good one. Without thinking too much about it, I lowered my head and shuffled my way back. I said nothing until I was standing directly in front of him.

  “Alyssa?”

  I looked up and did my best impression of a smile. Shit, he was still wearing his beer-soaked shirt. “Hi. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  Reaching up to bracket the doorframe with his hands, Harrison cocked his head to the side and grinned. “I was about to get changed. I had a bit of an accident.”

  My face was hot and if there’d been a way I could have hidden my blush I would have. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be. I was being an ass.” He let his hands drop but didn’t move back. “You okay?”

  “Besides feeling like a jerk for dumping a beer on you? Oh yeah, peachy.” The index card was starting to curl from my sweaty palm. “I actually came because I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “Not really. Well maybe. I just . . . I need a fresh perspective on this. I don’t really know you and weirdly enough that kind of works in your favor. I think. I don’t know.”

  “Like I said, sounds serious.” He hesitated for a moment before he stepped back and waved me in. “Mind if I get a clean shirt first?”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  It was weird crossing the threshold into his place. I’m not sure what I’d been expecting the inside of Harrison’s condo to be like, but it wasn’t this crazy mess. There were the standard framed pictures on the wall, the type someone would pick up at Walmart or Target. The furniture was all leather, the coffee table glass-topped with a curled iron underpinning. Even the carpet was lush. The entire place screamed corporate rental, especially when there were open boxes strewn about the place, packing papers lying in piles at their bases.

  He’d been serious when he’d said that unpacking wasn’t his strong suit. I was about to harass him about it when I realized that he’d pulled his shirt off and my ability to speak vanished.

  Naked. Man.

  Harrison turned to face me, his stained shirt in his hands. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll just be a second.”

  “Pardon?” Firm muscles. Tanned. Oh good, chest hair. I liked chest hair. I could totally run my fingers through it and tug, just enough to tease.

  “Alyssa? Eyes up here, please.” Dammit, he was teasing me. No, teasing would make me like him and that wasn’t what I wanted.

  My face heated again when I realized there was no way to make up for blatantly staring. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “There are worse things for a guy’s ego than to be ogled by a beautiful woman.” He motioned to his left. “The kitchen is that way if you want a drink. I might even have beer in the fridge.”

  It was a comment on my mental state that I didn’t even question his mentioning of the beer. I made a beeline for the fridge, found the aforementioned beverage, and was thankful that he had a magnetic bottle opener stuck to the side of the door. I closed my eyes and took three long drinks from the bottle before I stopped.

  What the hell was I doing here? It wasn’t as though I knew Harrison very well, certainly not long enough to proposition him. Not to mention the fact that I’d recently assaulted him in public with a beverage. Though I’d totally been provoked, it wasn’t the sort of thing that won people over.

  He might not be into sex with almost-strangers. Hell, he might not even like me that way. My stomach churned as the idea that I might actually get rejected crossed my mind for the first time. I’d have to play things cool.

  “Oh my God, I’m an idiot.” I took another long pull from the beer bottle.

  “Good, you found it.”

  I jumped as he walked into the kitchen, still buttoning up his shirt. It was the same type of one he’d had on earlier, except navy blue. At least that one wouldn’t show a stain as bad if we got into another serious discussion.

  “Are you okay?” He stepped into my personal space and took the bottle from my hand. “You seemed off at the barbecue, too. Is there a problem that you need help—”

  “I need to have sex with someone.”

  Both of us stopped talking and stared into each other’s eyes. It took me a moment to realize that I’d actually said that with my outside voice. My first instinct was to cover it up, apologize, say something to ease the growing awkwardness that had manifested between us. But then I really looked into his eyes and was struck by the intensity of his gaze. He didn’t appear to be offended or put off by my request.

  No, he looked exactly the opposite.

  “Hmm, yeah.” I cleared my throat, knowing I needed to say this the right way to not come across as a lunatic. “Okay, so Rob, he’s my late husband, but I think you knew that. Anyway, he was the only guy I’ve ever been with and he was worried that when I was ready to move on that I wouldn’t do anything so he left me with these index cards to help me have sex with other men and I’ve been trying to start using them but the whole go to a bar and find some random guy didn’t quite work out the way I hoped so I wanted to know if you would have sex with me? And if not that’s fine, but then you said I should ask for help, so that’s sort of what I’m doing.”

  Harrison reached up and bracketed my face with his hands. I held my breath when he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss in the middle of my forehead. “I’m going to get a drink and then I suggest we go to the living room so we can sit and talk. Preferably in multiple sentences. With pauses. And breathing.”

  My heart might as well have been a jackhammer in my chest it poun
ded so hard. “Okay. That sounds good.”

  He didn’t let go of me, instead he reached down to capture my hand in his. It only took him a moment to get his own beer before he led me to the couch. I sat down with a huff and then realized that I’d been squeezing the index card in a death grip. As Harrison joined me, his thigh slid against mine, sending another shiver through me.

  I knew that if I was serious about this, I’d have to show him what it was that I’d brought. I was putting myself out there, taking a chance that was turning out to be way harder than I’d anticipated. Looking down at the bent cardboard, I knew if I couldn’t get this far with Harrison, I’d have zero chance of doing this with someone else.

  “Is that the card?” He didn’t reach for it, instead taking a sip of his beer.

  “One of them. Rob left me thirty in total. I’ve done one of them . . . but the rest require that I’m with someone else.”

  “May I see it?” He still didn’t reach for it, waiting for me to be the one to make the decision.

  This was it. There was no reason why I had to follow the cards Rob made up for me. I certainly didn’t need to show Harrison. I mean, I liked the guy and I was more than capable of starting something up if I wanted. I was tired of being alone, of not being touched, of not having someone beside me to tell jokes and laugh about the ridiculous things I’d found online. I didn’t need to give him the card, but it was probably for the best if I did.

  God, why was this so freaking hard?

  I let out a soft huff, smiled, and held it out. “Sorry it’s a bit damp.”

  “That’s okay.” His smile melted away my nervousness. “I need you to start from the top. What are these cards and why do you have them?”

  I managed to get through the explanation once again, this time pausing long enough to breathe. The entire time I spoke, Harrison read over the card. It shouldn’t have required that much attention considering how little was printed on that one, but he seemed fixated on the words. It was only after I’d finished that he put his now empty bottle on the coffee table and read the next step in Rob’s plan for me.

  “Touch a naked man.” He set the card down on the table next to the bottle. “And you want the naked man to be me?”

  I didn’t bother to hide my embarrassment. “My sister was the one who took me to that bar to pick up a guy. Not that she said it in so many words, but that’s what she was hoping I’d do. After you left I had one or two who seemed interested. It was nice. But the second I started to talk to them with any degree of seriousness in taking things to another level, I panicked.” I groaned and leaned my head back against the couch. “I never had to do this before. I feel like a thirty-five-year-old virgin.”

  Harrison’s thigh pressed a bit firmer against mine. “I guess your husband suspected that. Hence the cards?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I have to be honest, some guys would be weirded out by this. Dead husband’s sex list? Not normal.”

  My heart sank, along with my stomach. “I didn’t even think about that.”

  Harrison chuckled. “I know you didn’t. It’s part of your charm.”

  I almost hated to ask, but we were beyond the point of no return here. “Are you? Weirded out, I mean? Because if you are, that’s fine. I mean not fine, but I understand. And I can leave, like right now. If you want.”

  Instead of answering, he got to his feet and smiled down at me. In the blink of an eye, he started to unbutton the row he’d finished doing up only moments before. “I could have saved a step if I’d known earlier.”

  Oh. My. God. “I . . . honestly, I just . . . we’re going to have sex?”

  “No.” The bastard smirked. He was actually enjoying this. “We’re going to do what it says on the card. You’re going to touch a naked man.”

  His shirt fell silently to the floor as he reached for his belt. I wanted to say something—encourage him, comment on his excellent abs, ask about the sex thing again—but my mouth seemed incapable of functioning. When his jeans hit the floor, my lips parted and an excited tremor passed through me.

  Harrison was getting naked.

  I was going to see an honest-to-God sexy naked guy. For real!

  When he didn’t strip off his boxer briefs, a mournful little cry escaped me. Harrison chuckled again as he braced his hands on his hips. “I think this is a good place to start.”

  “Huh?” I wanted to lick my lips, but didn’t want to come across as desperate. Even though I was.

  “Touching. No sex.” He sat back down, this time keeping a small distance between us. “Let’s start off with something easy and then you can see if you want to go any further with those cards of yours. I get the feeling you’re not too sure of them yourself.”

  “But . . .” I might have been drooling, so I swallowed hard. “You’re not naked.”

  “It’s close enough for our first time.” He leaned back, put his feet up on the coffee table, and closed his eyes. “Whenever you are ready, go for it. Or not. You can leave and I won’t think anything bad about you. If anything, I admire the hell out of you even more now.”

  That wasn’t what I’d expected to hear. I wasn’t sure what to say, or even what he was expecting me to do after that. He admired me for what I was trying to do? Was trying to get laid even an admirable thing? I pushed that thought from my mind and tried to focus on the matter at hand. I had a nearly naked attractive man sitting beside me, waiting for me to reach out and touch him.

  I turned on the couch and pulled my feet up so I was sitting cross-legged. It gave me a barrier, albeit one I could easily breach when I was ready. It made sense to look first. I mean, I hadn’t seen a lot of naked men this close up who weren’t related to me, and none of them were as fit as Harrison.

  Dude had definition.

  I cleared my throat, but didn’t look away. He didn’t have any fat to him at all, which was something I wasn’t used to either. “I have to talk or else this is going to be too strange.”

  “I can talk. I do it for a living.” That damn smirk of his again. I could see it getting annoying. “What do you want to talk about?”

  His nipples were hard, though I didn’t find the air all that cool. I wanted to run the tip of my finger across the hard nub to see the reaction I’d get. My hand was up and moving before I questioned what I was doing. At the last possible second, I chickened out and shifted my attention to his biceps. I touched my fingertip to his muscle, circling around the peaks and valleys of his arm.

  “You must work out a lot.”

  Harrison swallowed hard. “I hit the gym every morning at five. I’ve been doing it for years. It helps to counteract all the sales lunches and cocktail hours I’ve been through.”

  Goose bumps rose on his skin as I continued exploring with my single point of contact. Shifting closer, I moved my finger up to his collarbone. The scent of his deodorant was strong, as though he’d reapplied it before putting on his clean shirt. Maybe he had. “Tell me about your typical day.”

  I changed from using one finger to three when I reached his chest. Careful to avoid his nipples, I raked my tips through his chest hair, sighing at the feel of its coarseness. Harrison had lots, something Rob’s body couldn’t produce. Shit, I didn’t want to be thinking about him right now, even if it was understandable to draw comparisons.

  “Gym, office, meetings, come home, make supper, work. I do some sightseeing if I’m staying in a city I’m not familiar with.” He let out a groan. “Stay away from my sides. I’m ticklish. You’ve been warned.”

  “You can’t wave that red flag in front of me and expect me not to charge.” I rose up onto my knees and walked my fingers across his stomach—rock-hard abs, soft hair around his navel—down toward his side. “Is Mr. Kemp ticklish—”

  “Don’t do it. I’m warning you—”

  “Right about—”

  “Alyssa—”

  “Here!”

  I squealed and laughed as he roared, his hips bucking fully off the co
uch. I had a bit of a mean streak when it came to tickling and now that I knew he had a weakness, I couldn’t stop. Harrison was laughing as he tried to squirm away from my touch. All I wanted was to continue to run and press and squeeze his sides, loving the way his face turned red as belly laughs rolled from him. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to turn, grab me by the waist, and press me back against the couch cushions.

  “Stop! Can’t breathe.” His eyes were squeezed shut and tears had beaded at the corners of his lids. “Evil woman.”

  I was laughing just as hard as he was, all my earlier tension finally gone. It didn’t even matter that he had my wrists pinned by my head, or that the only thing preventing me from seeing his cock was a thin pair of black boxer briefs. As my laughter subsided, Harrison finally opened his eyes. He had a glow about him, as though he’d needed that moment of silliness as much as I had.

  “How long has it been since you’ve had a girlfriend?”

  Something changed in his expression. It was so subtle that had I not been lying directly beneath him I would have easily missed it. Harrison shifted his hands to the side, freeing my wrists.

  “It’s been awhile for me. Not a lot of time for that given the nature of my job. I don’t stay long in one place.” He cocked his head to the side. “Are you done exploring?”

  I’d upset him, I could tell. If I was smart, I would have said yes, thanked him for indulging me, and left.

  I never claimed to be smart.

  “Not quite,” I whispered.

  Using both hands, I ran them up the length of his arms to his shoulders. The movement had me coming up, my face now several inches from his. But as tempted as I was to kiss him, to feel what it would be like to have a pair of lips pressed to mine that weren’t Rob’s, I didn’t. Instead, I let my fingers slide over his shoulders to his back. The muscles were every bit as firm there as his chest and arms. I didn’t need to touch his thighs and calves to know how rock-hard they would be. With the way Harrison was straddling me, I could feel nearly every inch of him.