Complications (5 page)

“Oh. My.
God!
” Holly’s jaw nearly hit her chest. “You did it! You really did it! You slept with him!”

“What’re you so surprised for? You practically shoved me out the door when the limo got here.”

“When’s the engagement party?”

“C’mon, Hol, be serious.” Ally shut her laptop and got up to pour herself more coffee. “Eric’s in no hurry to remarry. I’m not even sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”

“Geez, was it that big of a disaster?”

“No. In fact, it was quite possibly the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Holly whistled, plopping down in the other kitchen chair. “And Eric’s been sleeping with guys for the past ten years. Who’d a thunk it?” She took another swig of Coke. “Do you want to see him again?”

“God, yes,” Ally admitted softly. “But that doesn’t mean I will.”

Her roommate grinned. “Girlfriend, you are
so
doomed.”

Ally ended up calling Eric instead, and it didn’t even take a week. The following Tuesday, as he was getting ready to leave for a late lunch, Eric’s private office line rang. Usually he’d let it go to voicemail, but for some strange reason, he felt compelled to pick it up this time. He broke out in a grin the second he heard Ally’s cheery hello. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you,” he said, sitting back down behind his desk.

“I know. But I had to tell you the news.” She sounded so excited, he could practically see her bouncing. “I just came from my interview with Martin Atkinson. He offered me the job!”

“That’s terrific. Of course, I had no doubts.”

“Well, apparently a recommendation from Eric Courtland is like a platinum calling card. All I had to do was show up.”

“Not true. I told you, Martin was already familiar with your work before I introduced you two. The rest was all up to you.”

“Eric,” she said slowly, a testy edge in her tone, “learn to accept a thank-you when it’s given, okay?”

“Point taken.” He laughed. “Sounds like celebrations are in order.”

Her sigh sent his heart plummeting. “I really do appreciate the offer, but with the job and starting to look for a new apartment—which I can now afford, thanks to you—I’m not up for another big party.”

“No big party, just you and me having nice, quiet dinner. Casual clothes, very informal. I’ll even do the cooking myself.”

She burst out giggling. “Cooking? Are you serious?”

Nick had the same reaction the first time Eric had cooked for him, but the laughing had stopped the moment he’d tasted his first bite of steak. “I’ve been known to wield a mean skillet in my day.”

“When you put it that way, how can I refuse? But be prepared for me to take pictures.”

“This Saturday night, then? Around seven?”

“I’ll be on pins and needles.”

Eric was too, once Saturday rolled around. He spent all afternoon in the kitchen prepping for dinner, so jittery he ended up nicking himself with a paring knife. Around six-thirty he slid the roast in the oven, set the kitchen table for two and went to change into a clean shirt and pair of jeans.

Ally was running late, of course, since he hadn’t sent the limo for her this time. It worked out to his advantage, giving him an extra few minutes to make gravy from the pan drippings, carve the meat and arrange potatoes and carrots around it on the serving platter before covering it with foil and placing it back in the oven to keep warm.

She rang the doorbell around twenty after seven, handing him a bottle of cabernet as he ushered her inside. God, how adorable she looked in her jeans and plain blue blouse, with no makeup other than clear lip gloss and a light dusting of blush. “I know I shouldn’t have spent the money, but this is a special occasion, right?”

“Thank you.” He glanced at the label, impressed by her choice. “This is perfect for what we’re having.”

She turned her head toward the kitchen and sniffed the air. “Wow, that smells amazing. And you haven’t burned the place down yet either. Two for two!”

He wasn’t sure which he wanted more—to smack her or kiss her. Instead, he settled for taking her by the hand. “C’mon, everything’s ready. And I, for one, am starving.”

Smiling, he led her into the kitchen. She looked a bit surprised when he pulled out a chair for her, then went to get a corkscrew to open the wine and let her taste it first. When she nodded her approval, he filled her glass halfway and left her to sip at it while he got their tossed organic field greens salad with raspberry vinaigrette out of the fridge.

Ally took a couple of tentative bites, her eyes widening in astonishment. “This is
good
.”

Relief swept over him. He hadn’t realized until now how anxious he’d been to win her approval. “Just wait for the entrée.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Trust me, you’ll like it.”

Which was an understatement, if her blissful expression when the first juicy morsel of chateaubriand hit her tongue was anything to judge by. Eric could’ve sworn her eyes rolled back in her head. His lips quirked up in a perverse self-satisfied smirk.

Then she set down her fork, her eyes going shiny. “Eric, you shouldn’t have done this.”

“Why not?” His shoulders tensed. “You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?”

“Yes, of course, but…you’ll end up spoiling me.”

“Hasn’t anyone else you’ve dated ever cooked for you?”

“Are you kidding? Most of them could barely afford to buy me a burger.” She swirled her glass and took another sip. “So, does this mean we’re together now?”

Did it? And why did the mere thought make his hand tremble so badly he had to set down his fork? “Is that what you want to call it?”

“Damn it, Eric, knock it off! I’m sick of this answering-a-question-with-another-question crap. Let’s just call it what it is.”

“All right.” He sat up straight, looking her in the eye. “It’s a one-night stand on the verge of becoming an affair. And frankly, I hope it does.”

“There are dozens of women—and men—out there who’d love to have an affair with you. I don’t understand why you want me.”

“Because I know you, Ally. I can be myself with you. We’re past all the bullshit game-playing people indulge in when they first get together.” He smiled. “And most of all, because you make me laugh.”

That made her smile too—
thank God.
“I had no idea that was my prime selling point.”

“Laughter’s a luxury for people in my line of work. Why do you think so many CEOs suffer heart attacks before they’re forty?”

“In that case…” She picked up her wine and clinked glasses with him. “I guess it’s my duty to help you stay healthy.”

After, she insisted on helping him clear the table. They wrapped up the leftovers and put them in the fridge, then set the dishes to soak overnight in the sink. Eric caught her by the wrist as she turned away, pinning her up against the center island before leaning in for a deep kiss. He buried a hand in her hair and gave a tiny pull, eliciting a choked whimper that let him know how much she liked it. Her perfume—no, just the fresh, clean scent of soap and water—filled his nostrils and sent a lightning bolt of arousal straight to his groin.

She was shaking when they broke apart, panting, pupils already dilated. “What’s for dessert?” she whispered, nipping none too gently at his earlobe.

“There’s some pastries in the fridge, but I’d rather have something else.” And with that, he reached for the waistband of her jeans, roughly unbuttoning and unzipping them. He yanked them down, propped her on the edge of the counter and sank to his knees, spreading her thighs wide.

She was soaking wet even before he started flicking her clit with the tip of his tongue, and within seconds she had her fingers wound in his hair, urging him on while she shuddered and moaned. He kept licking and sucking, reveling in her salty-musk flavor, until she’d screamed herself hoarse.

She slumped forward when he stopped, wrapping her arms around his neck. With a gentle kiss, Eric lifted her off the counter and helped her straighten her clothes, then swung her up into his arms and carried her to the living room. He laid her on the couch and covered her with a down throw blanket before returning to the kitchen to fetch them both some coffee.

She seemed to have recovered somewhat by the time he came back. Sitting up with a shaky smile, she took her coffee cup from him and sipped it gratefully. “Can I ask you something?”

How amazingly, amusingly changeable she was—so assertive one moment, yet so tentative the next. “You should know by now that you can ask me anything.”

“How’d a guy who’s been sleeping with another guy for the past decade learn to go down on a woman like that?”

He nearly sprayed French roast all over his imported Italian carpet. Would she ever cease to surprise him? “You’re assuming the sex I’ve had the most of is the only kind I prefer. I’ve been bisexual my entire life. It’s mere luck that Nick and I ended up together for as long as we did.”

“Wow. I had no idea.”

“Did you think Barbara was the first woman I’d ever slept with?”

“I never gave it much thought. I guess I always just assumed you were exclusively gay.”

“Not always,” he replied softly, memories flooding back—and with them, a twinge of pain. “In fact, the first person I ever had sex with was a woman. She was one of my mother’s friends, stuck in a rotten marriage to one of my dad’s business associates. The year I turned sixteen, they came to our house upstate for the Christmas holidays. She dragged me into one of the bedrooms and seduced me.”

“Jesus,” Ally breathed. “Did your parents ever find out?”

“Oh, God, no. It would’ve destroyed my mother. But at the time, I thought I’d discovered the key to paradise. She actually preferred oral sex to intercourse, and I was happy to oblige her. I didn’t see her very long, but she taught me a lot about giving women pleasure.”

“Her loss, my incredible gain.” Ally grinned, then downed the rest of her coffee in one gulp. “Now, what was that you said about pastries?”

They went back to the kitchen to gorge themselves on napoleons from Eric’s favorite French patisserie, washed down with more coffee. Ally licked every last crumb off her fingers, then sat back with a contented groan. “Good food, great company, fantastic sex—you really do intend to spoil me, don’t you?”

“If that’s a complaint, you’ll have to do better.” He stood and held out his hand to her. “In fact, I’d be glad to spoil you all night long if you’d like.”

Laughing, they practically sprinted to the bedroom. Ally fell back on the bed and pulled him down on top of her, the bedsprings squealing in protest. At last Eric grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her down, kissing her until she demanded, “You going to fuck me or just tease me?”

Not exactly the cue Eric had been waiting for, but it’d do. He scooted off the bed and grabbed a condom from the bedside table, then started unbuttoning his shirt. “Is it all right if I actually
undress
this time?”

“Do whatever you want, but hurry up!”

Evidently rampant arousal had short-circuited Ally’s brain. She’d managed to get off her blouse and bra, but the intricacies of the button and zipper on her jeans eluded her. Eric had them undone in three seconds flat, then grabbed her pant legs, skinning them down and off onto the floor.

Time to try something different—something he was sure she’d love. Gently but firmly, he rolled her onto her stomach, nudged her thighs apart and entered her from behind, sinking in balls-deep with one long, deep stroke. She was so wet, he nearly slipped out when he started to move, her moans and cries spurring him to go faster.

He draped himself over her back, burying his face in her soft, sweet-smelling hair, biting and kissing her throat. Her breath puffed hot and rapid on his skin, rent with broken sobs. “Am I hurting you?” he rasped.

She shook her head and lifted her hips, giving him a better, deeper angle of penetration, and—
oh, fucking God
—he almost lost it on the spot. A few more short, stuttering strokes, and orgasm crashed into him like a tsunami, dragging him under to drown.

Once the world came back into focus, he dropped a kiss onto Ally’s shoulder and got up to take a shower. She moaned softly and turned over, already senseless to anything but sleep. He shut the door quietly, startled to see Nick’s old flannel robe still hanging alongside his own. He’d thought his housekeeper had packed it up and shipped it back to Nick, along with the other things he’d left behind.

Guilt’s bony fingers clutched at him, but Eric shook it off. Nick was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. Time to stop dwelling on the past and move on.

He dialed the water temperature up to scalding and stepped under the needle-like spray, letting it wash away his last remnants of regret along with his perspiration.

Ally rolled over next to him, still dozing, as he slid back into bed. Eric wasn’t usually much for cuddling, but tonight it didn’t bother him. He was grateful to have her here. She helped the time pass more quickly—time he’d otherwise be spending with his old friend Johnnie Walker. In many ways, she’d helped pull him back from the edge.

It had crossed his mind more than once that he was using her, but he rejected the notion. There was nothing wrong with two friends offering each other a little simple human comfort. He might as well savor it and hold the memory close for all the other long, lonely nights when she wasn’t here.

The next six months swept by like a tornado. Between twelve-hour days at her new job and trying to find a new apartment, most nights Ally ended up collapsed on Holly’s couch, half asleep before she could feel that one loose spring poking her in the ass.

On weekends, she stayed with Eric. Usually he had at least one business or charity soirée to attend, but she was more than game to accompany him. It was a real education, circulating in this world she’d had only brief glimpses of before, and she made sure to keep her eyes and ears open. But she did her share of talking too; one memorable evening at a benefit for the New York Philharmonic, she found herself engaged in animated conversation about the global stock market with a soft-spoken middle-aged gentleman with a German accent.