Her Favorite Rival

by Sarah Mayberry

  She didn’t move.

  She cleared her throat. “If you want another night—”

  “I want more than a night. I want to take you somewhere nice for dinner. I want to go to the movies with you and get it on in the back row. I want to do the Saturday morning crossword puzzle with you in bed.”

  Her heart was pounding. She was so excited and uncertain about what she was hearing, she felt a little sick.

  Zach wanted to see her. To date her. To have a relationship with her. Or to try to have one, anyway.

  He stood. She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head.

  “I’m not going to push you. Think about it. I know it’s not exactly an easy option. Take as long as you like. You know where to find me.”

  Before she could speak he was gone, striding toward the nearest group of men.

  She felt shell-shocked. As though someone had stolen her center of gravity. Deep inside, she’d hoped that Zach would suggest they spend the night together again. She hadn’t for a moment considered that he might want more. It certainly hadn’t occurred to her to want more.

  She wasn’t sure why that was. Perhaps because it had been a while since she’d had a man in her life, and it simply wasn’t the first place her mind went to.

  Or maybe it was because she was a little afraid of wanting too much where Zach was concerned. It would be so easy—too easy—to fall in love with him. He was amazing in bed, he stimulated her, he challenged her, he made her laugh. When she was with him she felt more alive, as though she was her best self. Sharper. Smarter. More attractive. Sexier.

  Okay. So what? So what if you start really seeing Zach and you fall in love with him? Would that be the end of the world?

  It might be. If he didn’t fall in love with her in return, it would be damned awkward. And sad and hurtful and all the other things that came with a broken heart.

  But that was the same risk everyone took when they started seeing someone, wasn’t it? The only difference in their case was that a love affair gone wrong had the potential to make work hell on earth in addition to casting a blight over their private lives.

  And that was without considering how their burgeoning relationship might be viewed by the powers that be. While there was no official nonfraternization rule within the company, Makers was a conservative organization. She knew eyebrows would be raised, questions asked. After all, how could they possibly have fallen for each other when they were supposed to spend every living, breathing moment working for the company’s good? Especially now, when it was supposed to be all hands on deck to lift the load created by Whitman’s rationalizing.

  Granted, embarking on a proper relationship with someone was a different proposition from a one-night hookup, but she wasn’t going to kid herself—she and Zach going out together would not be viewed favorably. It simply wouldn’t.

  She twisted the cap on her water bottle back and forth, torn and tempted in equal measures.

  If they didn’t work together, she wouldn’t hesitate. She liked Zach more than she could remember liking a man for a long time. They were supremely sexually compatible. It was a no-brainer that she’d want to see where it might go.

  But she’d worked so damned hard to get where she was. She’d started in the warehouse at Makers when she was nineteen years old. She’d studied at night to finish high school, and she’d put her hand up for every training program the company offered. By slow, painful degrees, she’d edged her way from the warehouse and into the main building, starting out in clerical support roles and ending up where she was now. Fourteen years of perseverance, sucking it up, unpaid overtime, working while she was sick...

  Not for a second did she doubt that she’d earned her current role, but there was a tiny part of her that would always feel insecure about her humble beginnings. Unlike Zach, she didn’t have qualifications up the you-who to help her score another job if things went south with Makers. She had experience, and her reputation within the business—neither of which was particularly portable, she suspected. Certainly she wouldn’t want to pit it against someone like Zach in the job marketplace.

  Her gaze followed Zach as he moved from one group of golfers to another. There were taller men, men with broader shoulders, men who earned more, men who had more status—but he was the man who drew her eye. He was the man who had always drawn something in her, hence her months-long battle to pretend otherwise.

  Was she really prepared to turn her back on what had happened between them the other night for the sake of her career?

  Her own words came to her then, like the ghost of Christmas past: I’m the only person in the world I can rely on, and if I don’t make things happen, they don’t happen. I’m not ashamed of being ambitious.

  She wasn’t. But ambition didn’t make her laugh. Ambition didn’t warm her bed or her heart. Ambition didn’t infuriate her and challenge her and make her toss and turn at night.

  Work-life balance wasn’t a philosophy she’d ever aspired to—she’d been too busy proving to herself and her parents and the world that she wasn’t a screwup, that she was worth something. But maybe it was time to reassess her priorities. Maybe it was time to allow herself some comfort.

  Maybe it was time to allow herself some happiness.

  “Audrey. You gotta come help me out here. These guys don’t believe I got a birdie on the fourth.”

  It was Terry, one of her team members. She pasted on a smile and pushed herself to her feet and pushed her thoughts into the background. This was a workday. Never let that be forgotten.

  “How many witnesses do you want? I’ll swear on a stack of Bibles,” she said as she joined the men.

  Over the next few hours she smiled and talked and laughed as dinner was served and joke awards presented, but she never stopped thinking about Zach’s question. How could she, when he’d offered her something she secretly wanted very badly?

  The evening wound down after dessert. She said her goodbyes and good-naturedly accepted some final ribbing about the shot she’d hooked into the rough on the ninth and gathered up her jacket and keys. The lot was half-empty when she walked to her car. The dark was punctuated by the occasional laugh and the sound of engines starting. She got into her hatchback and checked her phone for messages, aware that she was stalling and not really sure why. Then she saw Zach heading toward his car and understood that she’d been waiting for him.

  She watched him, as she had all night, savoring the length of his stride, the cowboy certainty of his gait. He walked like a man who knew where he was going and what he wanted when he got there.

  He slipped his cap off, running his hand roughly through his hair. His profile was illuminated as he opened the driver’s door and tossed his cap inside.

  He didn’t get in immediately, instead rubbing a hand up the back of his neck as though it was stiff. Then he bowed his head, his whole body very still for a handful of heartbeats.

  Something sharp pierced her chest as she watched him. He looked...lonely. Isolated. And infinitely weary and worn.

  She pressed her fingertips to her chest, trying to ease the sudden pain there.

  After a second he seemed to shake himself, climbing into his car. The engine fired to life, the brake lights flashing red.

  She reached for her phone, punching in a text message before she could check herself. After all her agonizing and weighing and considering, it came down to this: she cared about his happiness. A small but profound revelation, and it had taken witnessing that small, private moment for her to get it.

  She didn’t want him to be lonely. She knew only too well what that felt like.

  She hit Send. His reverse lights were on. He was about to leave. Then his brake lights came on. The driver’s door opened and Zach exited the car. He scanned the parking lot until he found her hatchback. She could feel the heat of his gaze across the feet that separated them. Smiling, feeling sexy and dizzy and more than a little scared, she sent him a second text.

  This time it wa
s her address.

  She didn’t wait to see if he followed her onto the freeway. She knew he would.

  * * *

  ZACH WATCHED AS Audrey’s car disappeared around the corner of the parking lot. He glanced down at the two messages still displayed on his phone screen.

  Yes.

  Unit 6, 17 White Crescent, Ringwood.

  If he was a fist-pump kind of guy, now would be the time for one, but he wasn’t so he settled for grinning like a madman as he got back into his car. He entered Audrey’s address into his GPS and made his way out onto the country-dark streets of Cape Schanck. It took him an hour and a half to drive to Ringwood, and he used some of the time to call the hospital and check on his mother.

  He spoke to the nurses first, learning she was scheduled for surgery first thing tomorrow to remove the dead tissue around the site of the abscess. His mother was disoriented and defensive when he was put through to her, a sure sign she was experiencing the hell of withdrawal. No doubt the hospital would do what it could to alleviate her symptoms, but they weren’t in the business of keeping junkies happy.

  He offered what comfort he could, given her state, then spent the drive focusing on Audrey, on what he would do with and to her when he reached her place.

  He deserved some happiness. And even if he didn’t, he was going to make a grab for it, anyway.

  Her apartment was in a small block of six on a leafy, well-kept street. He parked out front and made his way to the security entrance. She answered the moment he hit the buzzer.

  “It’s on the second floor,” she said, her voice sounding slightly breathless through the speaker.

  She had the door open when he arrived, light spilling into the corridor. She smiled almost shyly. “It’s small but perfectly formed,” she said, leading him into an airy living room.

  If he had to guess, he’d say the complex had been built in the fifties. The ceilings were high and unembellished, the windows large. He could see a small kitchen through a doorway to his left. Another doorway led off to the right toward her bedroom, he guessed. Both her couch and armchair were midcentury spare, and a couple of vintage travel posters in bright colors graced the walls.

  “Do you want something to drink?” she asked.

  He didn’t say a word. She gave a nervous laugh.

  “Okay, stupid question. Would you like a shower, then? I know I’ve been dreaming of one since the eleventh hole.”

  He reached out and hooked a hand behind her neck, drawing her close. He kissed the nervous smile off her lips, inhaling the scent of her skin.

  “That sounds good,” he said when he broke the kiss. He didn’t want to let her go, but a shower was a necessity. Plus it meant they’d both be naked in a small space, which could only be a good thing.

  “It’s through here...”

  He followed her into her bedroom, glancing at the queen-size bed with its fluffy white duvet. The bathroom had been renovated in the past ten years, all clean, modern lines, and he watched as Audrey collected two towels from a storage tower to the left of the vanity.

  “Here,” she said, passing him one.

  He set it on the vanity and pulled her close, letting his hands slide down her back as he reacquainted himself with her mouth. He shaped her hips with his hands, then cupped her backside and pressed her against him so she could feel what she did to him.

  She made an approving sound, and the next thing he knew she was palming him through the cotton of his chinos, stroking along the length of him. They tortured each other for a few more minutes, pushing polo shirts out of the way and tasting each other’s salty skin before finally stripping each other naked.

  He pushed her hair out of the way as she leaned in to turn on the shower, tonguing the nape of her neck and smiling as she shivered in response. Any minute now, he was going to be inside her again and she was going to be making those soft, desperate noises that had been haunting his dreams.

  She drew him into the shower and they kissed beneath the streaming water, slicking their hands with soap and dividing their time between washing each other down and revisiting their favorite body parts. When he was so hard it hurt and she was breathless with need, he leaned out of the shower to collect a condom from his pants pocket and sheathed himself.

  She closed her eyes as he lifted her, pressing her against the tiled wall as he pushed inside her.

  “That feels so good,” she breathed, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

  “No kidding.”

  She laughed and he kissed her, swallowing her happiness as he started stroking inside her. The water and the tight heat of her body and the feel of her breasts flattened against his chest pushed him hard, but he held off until she gave a small, strangled cry and he felt her pulse around him. Only then did he allow himself to come, his face pressed into the sweet, soft skin of her neck.

  She stumbled against him as he released her and he caught her arm. “Sorry.” She blinked dazedly.

  He loved that he could make her look that way. Loved how swollen her mouth was, how pink her nipples.

  He turned off the shower, then dried her with slow, leisurely passes of the towel. She smiled as he bent to attend to the soft skin behind her knees, one hand resting on his shoulder as he lifted her foot.

  “You’re establishing a dangerous precedent here,” she said, her voice low and lazy and tired.

  “Am I?”

  He had others he wanted to establish, too, and once he’d dried her feet he pressed a kiss to her belly and dipped his tongue into her navel.

  “Zach,” she moaned as he urged her to widen her stance and started kissing her inner thighs.

  He teased her with his mouth and tongue until her legs were trembling with the effort of remaining upright, then he carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed and really drove her crazy.

  He licked and teased and tasted until she trembled, her hips lifting involuntarily. Then he slid a finger inside her and searched for that one elusive spot....

  She gasped when he found it, her back arching, her hands clutching at his head as she came and came and came. He rode out her pleasure, then soothed her down to earth with gentle kisses and caresses.

  “If you get sick of the corporate world, that’s a career for you,” she said when he lifted his head.

  He grinned. He loved how bold she was sometimes. How shameless.

  “I’d hate to ruin the purity of my art by putting a dollar value on it.” He kissed his way up her body.

  “How very noble of you.”

  She collected a condom from the bedside table, then pushed him until he straddled her hips. Her gaze avid, she took him in her hands, stroking him firmly, knowingly. He watched through half-slitted eyes as she tore open the condom and eased it onto him, inch by inch.

  He was harder than titanium by the time she’d finished, pushed to the limits of his control. Pulling her hands away, he lowered his head and drew one of her already-hard nipples into his mouth. He bit her gently but firmly, just enough to let her know he knew she’d been torturing him on purpose. She responded by lifting her hips and widening her legs as she guided him to her entrance.

  One flex of his hips and he was inside her, part of her, sheathed in slick heat. She started to move at the same time he did, their bodies working as one.

  “I love how wet you are. How good you feel,” he whispered in her ear, because he knew she liked it.

  She made a sound in the back of her throat, her fingers clenching as she gripped his ass.

  “I love how tight you are, how it feels to be inside you,” he told her, upping the tempo.

  She started to pant, her breath warm against his neck. He slid a hand between their bodies to where she was wet and swollen.

  “Is that what you want?” he asked, sliding his thumb over her.

  She gasped, losing her rhythm as she lifted her hips, silently begging for more.

  “Is that what you need?” he asked, pushing himself deep inside as he s
troked her.

  “Yes. Please. Please, Zach...”

  She came then, pulsing around him, her body as taut as a bowstring as pleasure took her. The sight of her tightly shut eyes and bared teeth pushed him into his own climax and he held her close as he nudged even deeper inside her.

  They were both limp, their breathing heavy as they lay side by side on the bed. After a while, he felt her hand on his forearm. She slid her hand down until it found his, her fingers weaving with his.

  “Let’s not wait two weeks again, huh?” she said.

  He laughed quietly, feeling tired and empty and utterly at peace. “Deal.”

  He had enough sense to take care of the condom before he drifted into sleep. The last conscious thought he had was both simple and profound: she said yes.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  SHE WOKE TO the unfamiliar sensation of another person in her bed. Her eyes popped open, then she smiled as she remembered.

  Zach.

  The shower.

  After the shower.

  After, after the shower.

  She stretched out a hand and laid it on his warm, hard body and simply lay there for a moment, listening to his breathing and feeling his chest rise and fall beneath her hand.

  He was in her bed, in her apartment. This was real. They’d decided to do this. To try to build on sexual chemistry and lots in common and see where they might end up.

  She gazed at the dimly lit ceiling, doing a quick internal audit, and decided giving him her address, saying yes to him, to this, was one of her better decisions.

  She rolled closer to him, pressing her lips against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of him—the lingering remains of yesterday’s aftershave, warm skin and the faintest tang of clean sweat. It was so delicious she wanted to lick him, to somehow absorb the essence of him into her own body. She settled for pressing a row of kisses along his shoulder until she came to his collarbone.

  She lifted her head to consider his profile, only to be drawn to the glowing neon numerals on her clock.