Overwhelmed

by Marita A. Hansen

  ...if you two are open to it, maybe we could have a foursome...

  My eyes widened. What the hell?! He’d asked Tom for a freaking foursome!

  ...but if you aren’t interested, then no foul in asking. We can still have a nice dinner, while getting to know each other better. I’m sure Tom will discuss it with you, if he hasn’t already. If you’re both interested, and the time suits, I would like to allocate next Saturday to it. Get back to me with what you would prefer.

  Kind Regards,

  Eric.

  I continued to stare at the words, my heart as well as my head now pounding. Did I want to have sex with him again after that strange night? And a foursome? How would that even work? Would it mean that Tom would go off with that woman and I stayed with Eric? Or would we do it in the same room? I didn’t know whether I would be comfortable with either of those scenarios, especially seeing another woman touch Tom. But, he’d watched Eric have sex with me, so if he wanted to I couldn’t say no, because that would be hypocritical of me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall, knowing in all truth I wanted to have sex with Eric again. I just didn’t know whether it would create more uncomfortable feelings like the last time. And what if he wanted me to suck his cock again? I’d have to get some flavoured condoms.

  I stopped mid-thought, disbelieving that I was even thinking about flavoured condoms let alone sucking his cock, especially since he was now my publisher. He wasn’t quite a boss, but still, we were doing business together, so it wouldn’t be appropriate to have sex with him... God! Stop thinking about Eric and sex in the same damn sentence! The man was driving me nuts with thoughts about him. I had Tom, so I didn’t need Eric. One man was more than enough for me, thank you very much.

  Footsteps entered the room, making me open my eyes. Tom was standing at the bottom of the bed, wearing shorts and a muscle shirt, the latter accentuating his arms. His skin glistened with sweat, making his tattoo stand out more. Clearly, he’d been working on the backyard again, the dirty streaks on his shirt confirming it.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, his face emotionless, making me nervous that he was angry with me.

  “My head’s killing me.”

  “That’s what happens when you drink alcohol.”

  I stiffened. “I didn’t know the punch was laced.”

  “Yes, Eric explained what happened.” He walked around and sat down on the bed next to me. “Do you remember anything about the party?”

  Giggling came back, hugging Eric also flashed across my mind, along with Eric’s confused expression. He hadn’t done it on purpose after all. “I think I made a fool of myself,” I said.

  “So, it looks like it wasn’t just a tannin reaction.”

  “No shit, Sherlock. I got drunk and it wasn’t even my bloody fault.” I turned the computer screen to him. “Eric apologised, said it was his girlfriend who’d put the alcohol in there,” which I didn’t understand, considering he was a recovered alcoholic.

  Tom’s eyes scanned the screen. A second later, his mouth dropped open, which I pretty much guessed had to do with the foursome.

  “He asked me about this last night,” he said, pointing to the bit about the foursome.

  “What did you say to him?”

  “I said I’d ask you.”

  I frowned. “You’re interested?”

  He stiffened. “You don’t have to snap at me. I didn’t snap at you when you wanted the threesome.”

  “I didn’t snap,” I said, wondering why he’d overreacted. “I just asked if you were interested, nothing more.”

  He relaxed a little, though he still appeared unsure. “Only if you are.”

  “It sounds like you want to.”

  He looked down. “I... it’s what we went to the club for, but it ended up just being about you that night. I didn’t like what happened.”

  “I didn’t either.”

  He looked up. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Like I said the other day, it was weird. I felt very uncomfortable, even more so when you sat down on the chair, leaving me alone with Eric.”

  He frowned. “I thought you wanted it.”

  “I know, and I’m not blaming you.” I placed a hand on his cheek, the conversation similar to the one we’d had before. It was obviously still bothering him, which I needed to make right. “I’m responsible for the threesome, not you. I should’ve thought it through instead of rushing in blind, which was why I went with the flow. In the end, I sort of felt obliged to give him a turn.”

  His expression dropped. “That’s not what it should’ve been about. We did this for us, not him.”

  I let go of his face. “I also felt bad for not including that woman in the group. I was too stunned at the time to ask, but if I did it again, I would’ve included her for you. You got nothing out of the club. I got the experience, whereas you got the discomfort. I think maybe that’s why I felt even more on edge. I knew the threesome wasn’t what you wanted.”

  “It’s done, don’t worry about it. We can’t change it.”

  “Maybe we can right things, and if you want to do a foursome, then I won’t say no.”

  “I suppose we can go to the dinner and see where it takes us. It doesn’t mean we have to do anything with them. We can just have a chat and get to know them better.”

  “So, you want me to reply with a yes to the dinner invite?”

  He hesitated, then nodded, though he looked nervous.

  “Okay, I’ll do it now so we can sort the time out.” I started typing, then looked back at him. “Should we get my mum to babysit the kids again?”

  “Nicky is old enough to look after Remy, and she needs to start taking responsibility.”

  I thought about the appointment I had with the psychologist tomorrow. “No, my mum would love them to stay, so maybe next time.”

  He nodded, then leaned forward and kissed me, his stubble tickling my face. I placed a hand on his cheek, my heart now pounding. I hadn’t felt that tense pounding over kissing him for a long time, and it wasn’t because of the hangover. More likely, it was due to the possibility of Tom kissing—or fucking Natalija, which had awoken my possessive side. But if he wanted to, I knew I’d let him have sex with the woman, like he’d let me have sex with Eric. I just hoped it didn’t make the both of us feel uncomfortable, because this was about us, not Eric or his girlfriend.

  I just had to remember that.

  19

  Everything was going great. On Monday, Nicky’s psychologist appointment went well, while on Tuesday she came home ecstatic over getting an excellence in her drama class. Then on Wednesday, I had my first appointment with Damian, signing him up as my literary agent. And on Thursday, I had a meeting with Eric, who had asked me to come in to talk about the book tour as well as the possibility of my first series becoming a television programme, which excited me to no end.

  I entered Eric’s building, which he’d only recently purchased, something I’d discovered after Googling him more. I admit it: I was curious about him, what I knew so far obviously only the tip of the iceberg. Auckland was his smallest office, the rest all considerably larger, especially the London one, which employed hundreds of people. I’d also learned a few more interesting tidbits about him, namely he’d dated a number of high profile women, a couple of film stars included in there. Though, I’d found very little about his family life, other than his wife having died suddenly.

  I headed to the same reception desk. The woman from the other day smiled at me, instantly phoning through for Eric, who came out a minute later, looking his normal suave self in an expensive suit. I headed into his office and seated myself in front of his desk, his smile making me nervous. I may have argued with him at the party and told him where to go when he’d come to my house, but I’d been angry with him then, and had reason to snap. Now was a different matter, especially when he smiled at me like that. It lowered my defences and made me think about having sex with him. I shut that line of thought
down, not wanting to go on that guilt trip. I needed to forget about how sexy he looked: those lips, those eyes, his body... My gaze drifted down to his tie, something I wanted to loosen... Shit! I had to stop looking at him like that.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  I shifted about in my seat, not knowing how to answer him. I couldn’t exactly say: ‘Hey, you look sexy,’ especially with the way he was eyeing me up, because he’d have me on my back within seconds.

  “Kelly? Are you alright?”

  I nodded. “Just nervous.”

  “There’s no need to be nervous. I’m here to help you through this.” He leaned over his desk and held out a piece of paper. “My television producer friend is interested in your first book. Here’s some paperwork you need to read through before you see him.”

  I took the paper. “He wants to see me?” I said, blown away.

  “Don’t get excited yet, it’s just for a chat.”

  “How come Damian didn’t tell me this yesterday?”

  “Because I arranged it without his knowledge.”

  “Why?”

  “I take care of any business I want to run smoothly. Damian’s brilliant, but I’m better.”

  I smirked at his arrogance.

  He raised his eyebrows. “First a scared look, now amusement? I seem to bring out many emotions in you.”

  “You certainly do.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad I have that effect on you.”

  “You probably have that effect on many people.”

  His smile widened. “Only the ones who want to sleep with me.”

  Embarrassed by his reply, I looked down at the paper.

  “I apologise if I’m making you feel uncomfortable,” he said.

  I looked up. He was no longer smiling, his green-gold eyes now serious. Tom’s eyes were so bright, yet Eric’s were so pale, two totally different men, both having an effect on me.

  “Are you just going to stare at me or say something?” he asked.

  “You shouldn’t flirt with me.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s wrong.”

  “How’s that? I’m not touching you.”

  “Your words suggest you want to.”

  “Well, that’s obvious, but sadly I have to wait until Saturday.”

  The thought of what we could be doing together in a couple of days made my body instantly heat up.

  He bit his bottom lip, his expression undoubtedly sexual. “I love it when you get turned on. You’re like an open book, everything’s written on your face.” He picked up a piece of paper from the desk and pushed out of his chair. I turned in my seat as he went behind me. Leaning his elbows on my chair, he placed his face next to mine and dropped the paper he was holding into my hands. “But, let’s move onto the book tour.”

  I looked down at the paper, unable to read a thing, his face a breath away from mine. I cleared my throat, willing myself not to react to him.

  “These are the dates for the book tour,” he said.

  I inhaled sharply as he moved his arm past me, brushing my breast as he pointed at the paper. I didn’t know whether it was an accident or calculated, but either way, I didn’t want to think about it, especially since Eric’s closeness was setting me on fire. I knew if I took his hand and clamped it on my breast we would be having sex within seconds.

  Tom came to mind.

  Which meant I would never do it.

  I can look, but not touch, unless Tom is in the room.

  I willed myself to focus on the paper, concentrating on it instead of Eric. The book tour started in just under two months, Eric having broken it up perfectly.

  He tapped the paper. “I arranged the New Zealand side of the tour before the school holidays, since you can always get back quickly to your kids, while you can have them with you during the Australian leg. We will do the British one after they go home, then you will have a big break before the American tour, so you won’t be away from your family for too long.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.” He pulled his hand back, again brushing my breast. He walked over to the couch and sat down. “Come sit here, it’s more comfortable.”

  I remained in my seat.

  He patted the cushion next to him. “Come on, Kelly, I promise I won’t bite, I just want to get to know you better.”

  I stood up and walked over, sitting next to him. He placed his arms on the back of the couch, making me put my hands on my knees as though I was waiting in the principal’s office, all nervous and wondering what punishment I would be receiving. And I would be punished if I did anything with Eric ... unless Tom was in the room. Those words returned, feeling like a fail-safe. I just needed to clamp my feelings down for now, and if things happened on Saturday and Tom was fine with it, then whatever I did with Eric wouldn’t be considered cheating.

  Cheating.

  I hated that word.

  “How did you meet Tom?” Eric asked, cutting off my train of thought.

  “At high school.”

  “I married my high school sweetheart too, though we divorced after three years. Not something I’m proud of, we were just too young to get married.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “Wow! That is young. Tom and I waited four years. He didn’t want to get married at first, but luckily he changed his mind.”

  “Well, I didn’t want to get married to my first wife, but I was stupid and got her pregnant. Our parents forced us to marry. How was it for you?”

  “Tom proposed to me.”

  “Was it a romantic proposal?”

  I cleared my throat. “You could say that.”

  He smiled. “Go on, tell me. I’m curious now.”

  “It was the day after I turned twenty-one.”

  “And?”

  “He proposed in bed, after we had sex.”

  Eric laughed. “It must have been amazing sex.”

  I smiled, feeling embarrassed.

  He removed his arms from the back of the couch and nudged me with his elbow. “You look so cute when you blush. I should embarrass you more.”

  I shook my head.

  He leaned his shoulder against mine. “I consider you a friend now, and I always tease my friends, so you’re out of luck there.”

  “Friends?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I do feel like I’ve made a friend in you.”

  “Okay.”

  He placed a hand over his heart. “Oh, you hurt me so.”

  I frowned. “How’s that?”

  “You don’t seem sincere with being my friend.”

  “You don’t seem sincere in wanting to just be a friend.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Friends don’t flirt.”

  “Then we’re friends with benefits.”

  I smiled. “You’re impossible.”

  He patted my leg, sending tingles up it. “I certainly am.” He removed his hand. “But I do want to be your friend. So, how can I make that happen?”

  “Get to know me, I guess.”

  “Which means, you need to get to know me too.”

  “True.”

  “So, tell me a bit about yourself, other than what I’ve gleaned off the internet.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You searched me?”

  “Of course I did, as you would’ve searched me.”

  “That’s rather presumptuous.”

  “Not really. You would’ve checked to see if I was for real, otherwise it would’ve been unwise to connect with me again.”

  “That’s very true.”

  “So, what did you find out about me on the worldwide web?” he asked, placing his hand back on my knee, making me tense.

  “That you’re a playboy—”

  “A playboy?”

  “You were pictured with a lot of women, two of them actresses,” I said, willing myself to stay calm. He was rubbing
his thumb against my skin, causing goose bumps to rise.

  He shrugged. “If I were lucky enough to have you as my wife, those photos wouldn’t exist.”

  I quickly continued with what I’d read. “You also went into rehab twice.”

  He removed his hand from my knee. “For alcoholism. I haven’t touched a drop in four years now.”

  “That’s good.”

  “It would’ve been better if I’d never started. It can be a struggle.” He focused on my eyes. “I have a very addictive personality. Once I see something I want, it’s very hard to get me away from it.”

  My mouth went dry.

  He continued, “I almost killed myself drinking. It was just lucky I stopped or I’m sure I would be dead now.”

  “How did you stop?”

  “My two sons did an intervention and forced me into rehab, making sure I stayed the last time. It worked. I got clean for them, though my youngest still holds a grudge against me.” He frowned, looking sad. “I’ve made many mistakes in my life, but hurting him was the worst.”

  “You hit him?”

  He shook his head vigorously. “Hell no, I’m not violent. I would never hit someone, and especially not my son. No, I meant I hurt him by caring more for the bottle. I’m trying to make up for it by being here in Auckland. Normally I live in London, but I decided to move here to prove to him I can be a good father, though he isn’t making it easy for me.”

  “In what way?”

  “He’s purposely doing things to hurt me. He takes off for days on end without telling me where he is, and when he is around, he’s almost intolerable to live with. I don’t think we’ve had a civil conversation in the whole time we’ve been here.” Eric looked down at his lap, his expression haunting. “His mother always knew how to calm him down, whereas I...” He breathed out. “I do try, but he makes me wonder whether it’s too late to repair the damage I’ve done.”

  “No, keep on trying. I’m trying with my daughter too.”

  He looked up. “You have problems with your daughter?”

  I nodded, my chest constricting at what she’d said about suicide. She seemed happier, but it continued to plague me. “She’s going through some tough times.”