Lucky Number Four (34 page)

I know I sound like I’m whining. I know a
million women would love to have Drew in their sights, but it will
make my life so complicated, and when it fizzles out on his end,
when he’s tired of this “breath of fresh air,” how awkward will it
be to be living in the same space? One of my resolutions is to move
out, but that’s only if I get a good job, and the unemployment
stats scare me.

“Take a chance, Dora. What have you got to
lose? You have so much to gain. I bet that man will give you
countless orgasms and you’ll think you’ve died and gone to the
great beyond.”

“Easy for you to say. And what if I don’t
like orgasms? That was a stupid question. Stop laughing at me.
Forget about me for a minute, what about you and Liam? Is it a
go?”

“You are so nosy, always in everyone’s
business,” he says after getting his laughter under control.

“Oh, and you don’t pry, huh? So now it’s your
turn to spill.”

“Okay.” He lies back on the bed, staring up
at the ceiling. I wait patiently for him to continue. “We’re
talking, and we have a date for tomorrow night. Satisfied?” He
rolls back and stares at me.

“Ohhhhhh, I’m so happy. You have no idea how
happy I am for you. Are you excited? Of course you are. You and
Liam are perfect for each other.” I reach over and pull him in for
a hug, which he reciprocates. I swear he’s breaking a few of my
ribs in the process.

“Now go back to the party and let me think.
No shaking your head. I’m fine, and I want you to go back to Liam.”
I push him away from me and he slowly rises.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Now get your sexy ass out
there before someone steals Liam away from you.” He jumps off the
bed and turns, blowing me a kiss. “I love you, Jeff.”

“Ditto, but I love you more.” He grins and
slips through the door, shutting out the loud mayhem when he closes
it. I get up and lock it. He has a key, so I’m not worried. Anyway,
he might get lucky and not need to sleep here tonight.

My cell rings a few minutes later and I grab
it off my dresser. It shows a picture of my mom and dad acting
silly. “Happy New Year, Dora,” they yell as soon as I answer.

“Happy New Year to you, my wonderful
parentals.”

“Have you made your resolution list yet?” Mom
asks, and my dad says he loves me and I hear a click. “So, now that
your dad is off the phone, I have to tell you that Henry has been
bugging me to call you. He says you aren’t helping Drew, and I told
him he’s wrong. Of course, Mr. Arrogant says he’s never wrong. So
tell me I’m right. You are helping Drew, aren’t you, sweetie?”

What do I say? Henry will know I’m lying, and
since he has an in with upstairs management, I don’t know if
pissing him off will be any good for me. But I don’t want my mom to
know the truth, so I do what I’m being trained to do: I
compromise.

“Don’t worry, Mom. I’m working on it. I just
wish Henry would stop being so vague about how I’m supposed to be
helping Drew.” I roll my eyes and pray she doesn’t hear the little
white lie in my voice.

“Okay, I’ll tell him. So, about this Sunday,
are you and Jeff free for dinner? Please tell me you are. Taylor
and Bridget are going skiing and won’t be back until late, so I
really need reinforcements.”

“I’ll check with Jeff and let you know. Love
you, Mom. My battery is in the red zone,” I say as another little
white lie slips out.

“All right. Please try for Sunday. I don’t
ask for much. Talk to you soon. I’m off to tell Henry he’s wrong.
Love it. Night, sweetie, and Happy New Year again.”

My phone clicks before I can respond. Happy
frickin’ New Year to me. All I have to look forward to in the next
few days is a dysfunctional Sunday. Joy oh joy.

“For Christ’s sake, please stop that
pounding.” What time is it? I must’ve dozed off. What is that
pounding noise, and where is Jeff?

Oh, yeah … now I remember. He’s probably with
Liam. The room is partially dark. The only light is a decorative
flameless candle that I keep on at night so I don’t break my neck
if I need to get up. The pounding is coming from the door to the
loft. I slide off the bed, still in my beautiful dress and my eff-
me pumps.

“This better be important,” I remark as I
open the door.

It’s Drew. My heart starts beating crazily as
he moves past me. I shut the door since the party noise is still
deafening and my head isn’t really up to it.

“Dora, we need to talk.” I find Drew standing
behind me, not close, but too close for comfort.

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I’m a little
tired.” Please let him just go. I can’t deal with this right now.
My emotions are all over the place, and the monsters in my stomach
are awakening, as is my fever and wobbly legs. Great, I’m having
another case of Drew flu.

“I’ve been waiting for months now, and I know
it sounds corny, but it’s a new year and I want—God, Dora, I want
to talk.” He sounds so forlorn and lost, and now he’s tugging at my
heart with his words, which by the way just skipped a beat. His
voice is enough to make me melt into a puddle of hot goo.

“Okay, but let me go splash some water on my
face first.”

I don’t wait for an answer as I move past him
to the bathroom. I need to pee, but I didn’t want to discuss bodily
functions when most of my body is not functioning right as it is. I
turn on the faucet so it will mask the noise, and then I wash my
hands, splashing a little cool water on my face. I don’t want to
mess up my makeup since I want to look halfway decent when we
talk.

What is there to talk about? He kissed me on
Halloween and tonight, big deal. I guess I need to go find out.

Calm down, Dora. It’s just Drew.

“Sorry, it took me so long. Wine is not my
friend, and it makes me sleepy. I’m awake now, so what’s up?” I
hope I sound calm. I think I do. Nonchalant is what I’m really
going for.

Shut up, Dora, and listen to him.

“It’s okay.” Drew is sitting on the couch,
and I watch as he runs his hand through his hair. By the look of
it, he’s done it more than a few times since I left him in. “Come
sit beside me, please.” He pats the leather cushion next to him,
and I wobble on my heels over to him.

“Wait, let me take these damn shoes off
before I fall and break my neck.” Stop rambling, Dora.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look
tonight?”

I stumble at the huskiness in his voice and
look up to see him watching me remove my shoes. I kick them aside
and sit on the edge of the cushion, not knowing what to do with my
hands. I end up placing them in my lap as our eyes meet.

“First, I want to explain Halloween.”

My eyes drop down to my lap when he bows his
head. “You don’t have to. You were drunk and I was there, and well,
we kissed.”

“I wasn’t drunk. In fact, I hadn’t had a sip
of anything but water. I saw you as soon as I walked into the room,
and I followed you. From the first time I met you, you have haunted
my thoughts, and I needed to see if what I felt was real. It
was
real. I’ve never felt anything more real in my life. My
question is: Do I have a chance with you?”

His head is still bowed, and I’m speechless.
He wants to have a chance with me. Maybe I didn’t hear him right.
My heart is pounding loudly and the menacing butterflies are going
hog wild. Maybe I’m dreaming.

Ow! Pinching myself proves I’m wide
awake.

“Dora, did you hear me?” He lifts his head,
and I see the confident Drew missing.

This is real. He wants me. What should I do?
Kiss him, fool
, inner Dora shouts. I move closer and take
his head in my hands and pull him close so his lips are even with
mine. Then I kiss him. This time it’s my tongue that is the
initiator, and I feel myself go from warm to burning hot in a
matter of milliseconds.

I want this man. I really want him. Not just
a kiss, but all of him. I want him in my bed with our bodies fused
together. Even if it’s only for a short while, I want him and he
wants me.

I push any doubts aside and moan as he pulls
me into his arms, deepening the kiss. I feel his hands burning a
trail up and down my back, and he pulls me with him as he lays down
on the couch. I’m on fire, everywhere. I want him naked, and I
boldly reach between us and undo his jeans. He stills, and I wonder
if I’ve done something wrong.

“Dora, are you sure?” he whispers as he
breaks contact with my mouth.

“I’m so sure,” I say.

He abruptly sits up and lifts me like I weigh
ounces instead of pounds. He pulls back the covers on the bed and
places me gently on the cool sheets. I panic as he stands up
straight, and I think maybe he’s changing his mind, but instead he
yanks the polo he’s wearing over his head, revealing the most
beautiful twelve pack I remember from art class. With a ghost of a
smile, he finishes the job I started and pulls down his jeans,
removing his underwear and socks and kicking off his shoes in one
fluid motion. The low light in the room shows the extent of his
lean muscles, and I’m itching to touch every inch of him. He’s hard
and ready, and I stroke him, delighted when he closes his eyes and
moans. I can’t believe I made him do that.

He leans down and puts his hand on my thigh,
slowly moving up, taking my dress as he goes. Impatiently, I sit up
and turn my back to him so he can unzip my dress, which he does
again slowly, caressing every inch of my naked skin as it’s
unveiled. I shimmy out of it, not sexy, but I’ll make a better
effort next time. I shiver as the cool air hits my skin, and I sit
there dressed only in my barely-there underwear.

Scooting over, I make room for him to join
me, which he does instantly. We’re face to face, eyes to eyes, and
I realize I’ve never had such an intense feeling like this. His
gaze moves down to my bra, and before I realize it, it’s gone the
way of my dress, and my scrap of underwear meets the same fate. His
hand strokes me. I watch as his tanned skin moves over my pale
body. The ache and the need for him to be inside me intensifies. I
take his hardness in my hand and gently tug him, hoping he
understands what I want—no, what I desire.

“I won’t last long if you keep that up, Dora.
I want this to be special,” he groans as I continue stroking
him.

“We can do it again, right?”

I can’t believe I just asked that. He reacts
by moving down the bed to circle my left nipple with his tongue. My
hips move upward, and I feel like I’m going to explode. Every nerve
in my body is on edge. I tug on his hair, but he doesn’t budge.
Instead, he latches on and gently sucks until I feel like I will
lose my mind. His hand starts drawing circles on my stomach,
inching closer to the place I want him to be. My hips move
involuntarily as his hand cups me, and then he places his palm flat
against me. I swear I’m going to die from the agony and intense
sensations he’s causing to burst within me. I tug his hair again,
and his tongue lets go of my nipple. I feel a loss, but then his
fingers begin stroking me, and I want something different.

I scoot down until my lips meet his. His
fingers are pulled away, and I reach down and grab him, guiding him
inside me. He doesn’t resist. Instead, he pushes farther until I
feel I can’t wait anymore. I want—God, I don’t know what I want.
But the pressure is so pleasurable that I wrap my legs around his
waist, and then he’s moving quickly and I’m matching him stroke for
stroke, and—

What the hell?

I scream into his mouth as a feeling so
incredible washes over me. I hold onto him, riding on the waves of
unbelievable sensations shooting through me.

I’m exhausted, but so purely satisfied.
Finally, I know what it feels like to have a big O, and it’s so not
a disappointment. I’m lying here with the most famous face in the
world, my arms and legs wrapped around him, and I never want to
move.

“Am I too heavy?” he asks, sounding like he’s
trying to catch his breath.

“No. Not at all. I don’t want you to
move.”

“That was more than I could have ever dreamed
of. Yes, I’ve dreamed about you. I wanted to touch you all the
time. It was so hard to keep my hands off you.”

“I can tell how hard.” I giggle as I think
about how hard he’d been.

“Wait a few minutes and I’ll show you hard.”
He nuzzles my neck and gently nips me.

“A few minutes, really? Oh, you aren’t
kidding.”

“See what you do to me? I spent many a night
hard as hell and with no relief, so I’m going to make you suffer as
I did.” His hips move, and I feel the delicious pressure building
again.

“You call this suffering? Bring it on.” He
kisses me soundly, and I can feel him grinning.