Double Dare

by Saskia Walker

  "We first saw each other in an elevator, of all places. I wanted him, instantly. He sent my hormones into overdrive. I never wanted a man that bad. There was this other couple in there, fooling around." She smiled as she remembered. "Zac and I looked at each other, at them and back. There was an instantaneous sexy dialogue going on between us, only we weren't actually speaking." She moved, stretching her legs, squeezing her thighs together. Just thinking about being in the elevator with him was turning her on.

  "I thought he was a courier, he was delivering papers. When he walked into our offices, I told him I was the receptionist."

  Marcy frowned. "You lied?"

  She nodded.

  "That is so not like you. Why on earth did you lie?"

  "I know, and I really wish I hadn't." She shook her head, remembering that her mother had drummed into her to always be honest. She'd told her that a liar needed a good memory to keep up the facade, and that lies built the foundation for other lies. It wasn't as bad as that, but she'd found that backtracking wasn't easy, once you'd done it. "I'll sort it out, but I was so fed up of men being intimidated by my job. I mean...I wouldn't have cared if he was a courier, but I didn't want to take that risk."

  "He's not a courier?" Marcy looked thoroughly confused.

  Abby laughed. "He was delivering the papers as a favor, and I really don't think he will be intimidated by what I do. I'll tell him as soon as we get together."

  "So what does he do?"

  "He's in arts management. He runs The Hub."

  "Aha, now it all falls into place." Marcy smiled.

  "Yes, I owe you for getting those tickets. I saw him that night and he invited me to come back again. When I did, we couldn't keep our hands off each other."

  "Go on," Marcy whispered, fascinated.

  Abby sipped her wine. "I still feel as if he's a bit of a mystery to me, that I hardly know him. I mean, I like that about him, but it's also beginning to bug me." She laughed at herself.

  "You're too keen. Just let it develop in its own time."

  She nodded. "He's worth it, I know that. I've been trying to work out what it is about him though."

  "You mean apart from the fact that he's gorgeous and sexy and you've fallen in love with him?" Marcy chuckled.

  "Yes, apart from that." It was funny. "I mean...it's not as if I haven't had plenty of hot sex before, but this is different. We're a good match in bed, but we don't just connect physically. There's an emotional, mental stimulation, like there's a flow of energy there too. Sexually, he unleashes me, lets me run wild. He brings out the woman in me—the real woman, the lusty, honest woman. He notices that, he seems to adore it. I can let go, truly be me." Saying it aloud was making her craving grow.

  Marcy watched as she ran her fingers along the base her throat. "This guy really affects you." She rolled onto her belly and reached out one hand to rest on Abby's thigh. "I can feel the heat coming off you." Her eyes were filled with mischief and interest. She pushed her fingers a little higher, until they disappeared underneath the hem of Abby's fitted dress.

  "Yes." She swallowed. She was aroused, undeniably horny because she was able to talk freely about Zac, and Marcy's hand had anchored the sense of crazed longing, her fingers like a magnet drawing her crazy nerve endings into focus. "Marcy..."

  "Don't worry," she said reassuringly. "I'm just enjoying what this guy does to you. I love watching other people get off. Can I persuade you to share it with me, just a little?" Her hand was completely under the fabric now, her expression wayward, her fingers moving between Abby's thighs, gently easing them apart.

  A tremor ran beneath her skin. "But I...you're my friend, Marcy."

  "I'll still respect you in the morning."

  Abby gave a crazy laugh, dizzy with wine and desire. "That's not what I meant. I don't want it to come between us."

  "What, my hand?" Marcy grinned. She stretched her middle finger out and touched the surface of Abby's panties, her nail scratching infuriatingly at the surface, sending her clit wild.

  "Oh..." Abby could barely reply. "You know what I mean."

  "It doesn't have to come between us, just keep telling me about him and enjoy it. We'll always be friends, this doesn't mean I want to get engaged or anything." She winked.

  Abby laughed. It wasn't as if she'd never touched anther woman. There'd been a girl at university. After a party, they had ended up snogging and wanked each other off. And that nail plucking at her panties was now teasing her into a frenzy. Her clit was throbbing with the need to be touched.

  "Tell me more about Zac."

  She sighed. She was aching for him, aching to be in his arms again. "This might sound crazy, but I believe that I truly started living when I met him." She closed her arms over her chest, locking the memory of his touch against her body.

  "Touch your breasts. I can see you're dying too."

  That fingertip on the surface of her underwear was driving her mad. She moaned, rolling her head against the cushion, her eyes closing. She squeezed her breasts through her dress and bra, hard, answering the demands of flesh that ached for contact.

  Marcy clambered across the cushions, her eyes shining, her lips parted in a suggestive smile. "I can't resist." She kissed Abby on the mouth.

  She was so soft, her lips damp, gentle but sure, her breasts squishing against Abby's own.

  "You're so naughty, your underwear is soaked through," she said accusingly, as she pulled back, with laughter in her eyes. She put her hand fully over Abby's mons, cupping it, pushing the heel of her hand against her aching sex. Abby's clit was crushed in the embrace, gloriously crushed and pounding. Her legs fell apart. Marcy's fingers massaged the plump flesh of her mons. She watched, lips parted and eyes riveted, glued to Abby's reactions.

  Being watched so closely and handled so cleverly, Abby couldn't hold back. The orgasm was so close and Marcy was doing all the right things. She writhed back on the cushions her hips riding against the willing hand.

  "Oh, oh!" Abby jerked, her whole body tuned to that spot, her actions automatic. Pleasure rolled through her, her body shuddering from release.

  By the time she'd grounded, Marcy was sipping wine, lazing on her side. "Mm. Yes. He's good for you, I can tell. I like him already."

  Abby gave a weak laugh. "You needed physical proof?"

  "No, but it was fun seeing you get all worked up over him, then letting rip."

  All worked up over him? Well, yes. She couldn't deny it. Zac could get her stirred up when he was hundreds of miles away. Besides, Marcy was right. He was good for her, in lots of ways. It was less than two weeks since she'd met him, yet her whole being was focused on him and the connection between them. It was feeding her with vitality.

  "And you said he's away at the moment?"

  "Yes, unfortunately...it's killing me." She laughed, embarrassed at her confession.

  Marcy didn't bat an eyelid. "I know that feeling. You're living in love's shadow."

  Abby gave a deep sigh. "That's one way of putting it."

  "Poor Abby, you have got it bad. So when will he be back?"

  "Oh, I'm meeting him in Paris tomorrow, for the weekend."

  Marcy looked surprised. "Only twenty four hours to go? I don't know what all the fuss is about."

  She gave a raucous laugh and Abby couldn't help joining her. Yes. Her body gave a throb of anticipation. Only twenty-four hours to go. Bliss.

  * * * *

  Abby climbed and climbed but her breath was trapped and she finally gave in and slowed her pace on the cross-trainer. She glanced down at the mileage. It wasn't quite far enough to get her to Paris, she would just have to wait and catch the flight instead.

  The early morning trip to the gym was meant to burn off some of her excess excitement, but it didn't seem to be helping. She'd barely slept. She was restless as a cat in heat. She smiled and turned to Caroline, who wrestled half-heartedly with a rowing machine next to her.

  "You seem to be thriving since you took contro
l of the Ashburn account," Caroline said. There was a note of admiration in her voice.

  "Thanks for saying so." She took her pacing right down to a dawdle, thinking about the sense of achievement she'd been getting from the work she'd been doing. She had thrown herself into it totally with an energy that came from her private life, and she'd thrived.

  Was it really time to go it alone? She gave a mental shrug, she was almost ready to dare herself to do it, wasn't that a good enough reason? Of course it was.

  "Ed and Penny aren't doing so well," Caroline continued. She pulled wearily on the mock oars then muttered a few words before reaching again. "They seem to get deeper and deeper into the mess. I'm glad I'm not out there with them, it must be hell." She shook her head and paused a moment.

  Abby laughed and Caroline looked up at her with curiosity.

  "Come on, I'll buy you something decadent for breakfast, let's indulge ourselves." Abby said, and stepped off her cross trainer.

  Caroline laughed too and abandoned the rowing machine.

  They went to a cafe that seemed to be placed strategically next to the gym, to tempt people from their path with the pastries in the window.

  "I'll have to get to the office soon," Abby said, glancing at her watch. "I'm expecting the architect to phone. He's visiting the site early this morning and said he'd call me right away."

  Caroline looked startled. "Good grief, I didn't think you would be able to get somebody to go out there this quickly."

  Abby smiled. "I think it was a tempting project for him, and I didn't want to waste a minute on this one." Her mind drifted then she added, "If something's worth doing, then do it and enjoy. That's my motto."

  Caroline sat back in her chair and looked at her with a curious glance. "What is it about you, Abby? You've been different recently."

  Abby scooped up the last of her Danish pastry. "I'm enjoying life, that's all," she replied. It was the simple truth.

  * * * *

  Zac stood by the window in his hotel room, sipping his breakfast coffee in the morning sunshine. It was going to be another hot day. He had a lot to do, but all he could think about was Abby's arrival. It was as if she had planted a deep sense of yearning inside him, one that he couldn't shake. You're well and truly hooked, face it.

  He picked up his phone and read the text message she'd sent him the night before, smiling.

  Soon. I want you so much. Let it be soon. Abby.

  He set the phone down and looked around the room, hoping that she would like the suite. He wanted them to share a weekend that she would always remember, no matter what happened on Monday. He strolled toward the dressing table and glanced down at the box he had placed there. He had procured her two gifts. A small token of his feelings for her, and something that he hoped would fulfill her secret fantasies of being watched. He'd got so turned on when she'd confessed about her desire to be watched, just thinking about it now made him hard.

  He shook his head, smiling wryly. "Abigail Douglas, you're a downright liability."

  * * * *

  The architect phoned shortly after Abby got to her office. He was a keen energetic sort. She'd read about his work for other restoration projects throughout Ireland and thought he sounded a likely candidate. His reactions on visiting the site reassured her that he was the man for the job. He was as fired up by the proposals as she was. She asked him to describe the place to her. His lilting Irish accent and heavily descriptive words about the castle floated her across the sea to the romantic haven.

  "Tell me, do they get much snow there in the winter?" She tried to keep her voice as professional as possible.

  "Snow?" He sounded unsure how to reply, as if he was afraid that it would go against the project if he said the wrong thing.

  "I'm sorry. Castle in the snow, it's just an image I have. It's personal, not really important."

  The architect sounded relieved. "Yes, there's usually a few smatterings of snow in the early part of the year, through to the spring."

  Abby took a moment to enjoy the thought of it before she picked up the list of questions she wanted to run through with him, and transferred herself into a more business like mood.

  After the call, she found herself trying to remember what her life had been like just a couple of weeks before. She'd become more adventurous at work, and in her private life. The sensual aspect of her nature had only been partially formed two weeks back. It had been fully realized through her union with Zac. He had somehow freed her and enabled her to explore that side of herself. She smiled out at the London skyline.

  "The cat who has got the cream," she whispered to herself.

  She spent the early afternoon updating the accounts constantly and completed her summary report on the investment portfolio, one eye on the clock. She was striving to complete her duties and reach her goals, but she knew deep inside that the desire for completion was an extension of the desire for fulfillment in her private life. She wanted the sense of physical realization that pervaded her other life, she wanted the clarity she felt when she was with Zac, the heightened awareness of every living breathing moment that he brought to her with his presence.

  By mid afternoon she'd got the documentation finished. The meeting was scheduled for first thing on Monday and she'd laid the ground for the presentation that she was going to give on their work with the account. She was pleased with it, despite the truncated time she'd had on the account. She had more than proved her value. She picked up her weekend bag and got ready to leave the office for the airport. Now for her personal reward: Paris, and Zac.

  As she passed down the corridor she heard a sound from Ed's office and paused outside the door. He must have made it back for the weekend. She tapped lightly, opened the door and walked in. As she did, her footsteps ground to a halt. Ed was there, and so was Penny. She was sitting on the desk, her skirt around her waist, her thighs spread. Ed was sitting in front of her looking at her crotch with wide eyes, his fingers probing, like a schoolboy carrying out an experiment over a Bunsen burner.

  Abby bit back the rising laughter. The litmus paper must have been turning blue, by the look on his face. Penny looked completely ridiculous. Her jacket had fallen backwards and the sharply angled shoulder pads stood out on her back like twin humps. It was a travesty, seeing a sexual act performed with such a lack of grace.

  They both turned at the sound of the intrusion and Ed's mouth fell open.

  Abby turned on her heels immediately and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind her. She darted past the reception—luckily for her empty, because she was beginning to chuckle aloud—and headed for the elevator. When she was safely inside it and the doors shut, she dropped her bag and leaned back against the wall, thankfully alone. Even as she walked from the building she had to quell her amusement. She could finally stop worrying about Ed assuming they were more than friends.

  She hailed a taxi and as she got in, she realized that she probably would have noticed something between Ed and Penny earlier on, if she hadn't been so distracted. Ed had been different, he hadn't been pursuing her as usual, but she hadn't taken it into her consciousness fully.

  "Heathrow airport," she said to the driver and settled back into the seat just as her phone bleeped.

  It was Ed.

  "What is it, Ed? I'm just on my way out of town."

  "I'm sorry, Abby."

  "No, I'm sorry I interrupted. I didn't know"

  He mumbled into the receiver, his tone shameful. Poor Ed.

  She pressed her lips together then let out a hopefully sympathetic sounding sigh. She didn't want to hurt him by being too glad, even though he'd clearly moved on. She adopted a comforting tone. "Listen, Ed, it doesn't matter, really, we are friends and we always will be. I'm glad you've got someone and that you're happy."

  "But I..."

  But what? "I can't talk right now, let's just let it go."

  "Monday, can we talk on Monday?" He was still pushing to discuss it for some reason.

&nb
sp; Monday? She'd shelved Monday for the time being. All she could think about now was the weekend. Nothing seemed to exist past that point on the horizon.

  She agreed for the sake of peace, hung up and dropped her phone in her bag. As she did, she noticed the black calling card for The Hub that Zac had given her, lying there in the bottom of her bag. She lifted it and moved it in her hand, watching as the eye winked at her and lured her in. It zapped her with its electric stare each time she turned it.

  She remembered their first encounter in the elevator, the electric connection between them, intimate, intensely sexual. Then at The Hub. His arms around her had arrested her life forever. She'd been released into a new realm of experiences through the union of their bodies. Things would never be the same. Working with the Robertson group was over too. She had come to a new departure, no matter what.

  She felt like she could fly to Paris on her own wings. Would Zac be part of her future? She hoped so. It might have felt like a secret affair at first, but it wasn't really. It was a turning point.

  Chapter Eleven

  Abby strode out of the Charles de Gaulle airport terminal building and waved for a taxi. She gave the driver the address and rested back into the seat as the car covered the ground between the airport and the center of Paris.

  Anticipation pumped through her veins. Her nerve endings were reaching out for Zac. They didn't need to be awoken. They were already awake and expectant. Since she'd met him she'd become consciously aware of every inch of her body—when she walked, when her clothes brushed her skin. Each sensation was a magic reminder of their joining. She crossed her legs and shifted the fabric of her skirt across her thighs with a secret smile.

  The taxi pulled up in an elegant boulevard not far from the Tuileries. The hotel was stylish, fronted by massive wrought-iron enclosed glass doors that were flanked by pillars. Matching tall, wrought iron framed windows echoed them on the refined facade. A liveried doorman clicked his heels and bowed when Abby walked up the steps.