Twice Smitten (A Modern Fairy Tale) (15 page)

His let his hands roam up from her waist, sliding farther up in a slow, sensual pace. Drew took his time when he got to the sides of her breasts and then over mounds of soft skin. Her nipples pressed against the thin blouse. Leaning forward, he traced the outline of her areola through the shirt while his finger teased the other nipple.

Drew had to know, had to watch her face. “Tell me, Abby,” he said, unbuttoning the blouse with the patience that belied the racing of his heart.

“What?” She shifted again.

Their breaths grew heavy from the action. He took his time with the shirt. It slid down her shoulders and arms. She shivered, and if he hadn’t wanted to revel in the sight of her skin for the first time like this, he would have bit her softly. There was enough light to see the flush of her caramel skin. He sucked in a breath and took in his fill because the bra was see-through lace. Drew brought his gaze to hers as he undid the latch. He let the bra catch and scrape down her nipples. She didn’t look away, but watched him with the same intensity.

“What do you want me to do?”

The chocolate-tipped buds puckered. “That’s how you want to play it?”

God, yes
, he thought, but only nodded.

Her lips curved seductively. “Kiss them first.”

He did with light brushes of his lips until her back arched, silently begging for more. The way she moved and moan told him all he needed to know about what she liked, what she needed. There was nothing hidden about her in that moment. Drew massaged the soft globes, firming the grip with practiced ease until he knew she was ready. Finally, he grazed his teeth with a light suction over the darkened tips. She trembled harder every time, not at all like a woman being titillated, but a woman on the edge. If he kept that up he’d make her come. Switching to the more sensitive breast, he continued the assault.

His other hand didn’t sit by idly. There was too much temptation. He reached down, trailing his fingers over the damp satin underwear. Every light tease moistened the panties more. He kept right on petting her until the wetness soaked his fingers, and then he pulled the material to the side.

Her hands went to his face, keeping his mouth prisoner to her pleasure. Drew dipped his thumb into the wettest, hottest part of Abigail. Her knees pressed together at the touch. Without applying any pressure he continued to rub his thumb up and down. Her clit swelled with each movement, and the tone of her moans deepened.

“Please,” she begged.

The word broke the tenuous control he held over the ardent need to have her like this— open and trembling. To, in some way, let him know the desire and passion wasn’t one-sided.

“Drew, please.” This time her voice was filled the unspent release.

He lifted his mouth to Abigail’s and brought her to the tortuous release she’d needed. Her orgasm seemed to last forever, and he basked in the throaty sounds of her satisfaction. The drawn out relief in them rumbled through him. Because he was a sadist, he flicked his thumb again, and sent her into another orgasm. Her hands fisted on the collar of his shirt and her moans filled with a delicious agony. Made him harder. Made him want to do it again and again.

Drew pulled back to see her face. Her heavy lids, dazed eyes, and swollen mouth forced a smile to his lips.

“I was wrong,” she murmured.

“About?” He continued to hold her close.

“You’re the shameless one,” she said.

Drew ignored how the earlier need shifted and deepened inside him. For only a moment, he worried the need hadn’t eased or let up the hold it had on him. Abigail sighed and curled into him, and still that wasn’t enough to make the yearn go away.

He pushed the worry aside. “Never said I wasn’t.”

Drew pulled her down to his mouth for another kiss, just to start the build up again and again and again

Chapter Eleven

Abigail entered Caff-aholic and stopped, shock stilling her. “Do my eyes deceive me?”

Barely seven in the morning, more than a handful of people littered the tables underneath the ceiling’s mural of coffee paraphernalia. Despite this, it was the woman standing next to the Sweet Tooth display, red hair unbound and leaving the wild curls free, that drew Abigail’s gaze.

In a frustrated gesture, Sasha brushed back her hair. “Up and not happy about it. I was on such a good roll painting. Now pfft.”

Behind the counter Tobias moved around the small space, prepping the espresso Sasha had likely ordered. More people came into the store. Abigail secured her place in line behind her friend. Dark circles bruised the skin underneath Sasha’s eyes.

“You didn’t get any sleep, did you?”

Sasha snorted. “Not an ounce. Teaching class should be fun today.”

Abigail beamed at her friend. “I thought naked men always cheered you up?”

Her friend nodded a thanks to Tobias and shuffled to the side so Abigail could order.

“Morning. You look radiant,” he said.

The words gave her pause, because it was odd for Tobias to speak more than a few words in a room filled with people. Even more so for him to say radiant. Abigail froze when she caught the knowing look in Tobias eyes. There was the humor Emma swore he had. In every way, he would soon be her brother and the teasing lilt of his voice proved the new connection.

“Plain but sweet.” Abigail ordered her coffee, ignoring the blatant inquiry.

She whirled around to Sasha. “We have to come up with a new rule. We cannot tell our significant others everything.”

“A new rule cannot be voted on without all members.” Sasha pursed her lips and took in Abigail’s face. “Huh,” she said after the inspection.

“What?” Abigail said defensively.

“Nothing.” Sasha sniffed. “Since you haven’t told me.”

Did Abigail smell like Drew? Was she smiling so early in the morning for no reason? The people around her knew something had happened between them. The thing is, she didn’t know, exactly, what happened between them. No, she hadn’t slipped and fell and happened to have an orgasm. She still couldn’t point to a word or an action to see how things had changed between them.

Abigail shot a quick glance toward Tobias. He seemed unaware but that was his default appearance. She took a chance anyway. “There was dessert and a backseat,” she whispered.

Sasha’s eyes widened as she took a sip of coffee, and the cup didn’t dim the mischievous smile. “Need more details.”

Tobias came back to the counter with her coffee. “I get ten bucks out of Emma. Thanks.”

Abigail narrowed her gaze at the man. He didn’t miss a thing. “You never heard or intuited this conversation.”

He rang up her order. “Of course I did. I’ve got not only money, but my pride on the line. But,” he added. “I’ll act surprised later.”

“Later?” Abigail said, honestly confused.

Tobias only crossed his arms. “Next,” he said.

Both Sasha and Abigail moved toward the door, but it was the redhead who spoke first. “So?”

“I have got to take back my line.” She smiled at the memory of Drew and her in the backseat. Mostly of Drew looking hedonistic as she sat astride his lap. She wanted to see him that way again. She wanted to look the same way with him too, and that was more troubling. The smile left her face. “I’ve crossed a line.”

Sasha blinked. “That’s not what I was expecting.”

“Ditto.” The haze had been lovely. When a man fulfilled you in the way Drew had, the experience left a lasting and good impression. Yes, she thought of how Drew may have gotten the experience to know how to bring her to the brink with just…titillation and no penetration. But, in deciding to sit in the back of his car, Abigail had thrown her team under the bus.

“I can sit here and say I won’t kiss Drew again. I can even swear I’ll turn him down if he offers more of the same.”

Letting things go down this road had less to with feeling right with Drew and more to do with the undeniable
it
factor. She could think back to every encounter with him and see the
it
in the undercurrents of the moment. Before, she hadn’t put a name to their exchanges, because the undercurrent had been wrong. She’d filed the feeling away because he annoyed the ever living out of her.

“Everything is so complicated.” She pursed her lips and tried to hide the smile, because she couldn’t stop grinning despite the seriousness of the situation. The infectious buoyant mood was all Drew’s fault.

“But I know I’ll—If the option is to go with him, to kiss him, to sit in the backseat with him, I’ll make the same choice. It’s insane. It’s irresponsible.” Her heart went heavy with the consequences. “Oh, God, I can be screwing over my team by doing this. This is crazy. I feel crazy. And I shouldn’t be doing this with him, but…”

Sasha laid a hand on Abigail’s forearm. “If you had been this excited or this scared when talking about any man before, I’d have been this scared and excited for you. And I am now.” This time she said with a laugh, “So?”

With a serious expression, though her heart fluttered, she said, “I’m going to go into work today. I’m going to face him like last night didn’t happen, and because we’re in a competition of a sort, I’m going to kick his butt.”

Sasha frowned, and then laughed fully. “You need help. If he’s turned on by your blasé attitude, he needs help, too.” She took a sip from the small cup of espresso. “I really hope this all turns out well for both of you.”

Hours later Abigail still tried to puzzle out her friend’s words. What did Sasha mean that she hoped things turned out well? Maybe what her friend said was one of those things you say at the start of any relationship. Usually the affirmation meant two possible unspoken thoughts: this is going to end in a fiery mess or this is going to be a beautiful beginning. Abigail had only thought the latter once with Emma.

The doubt followed her throughout the morning in every interaction with her team. The unease stayed with her until Drew entered the conference in the afternoon for his team’s rough-final presentation.

He’d trimmed what had once been the five o’clock shadow into a neat beard. The man was always meticulous about his appearance. He had a knack for presenting a picture. He was a walking, talking billboard for professional urban and masculinity. The industry, if they really knew about him, would kill to follow his every move and attempt to encapsulate his essence. What he exuded—sexy, capable, masculine—was and it wasn’t
Drew
.

The thought struck her sideways. How long had she been getting to know the man behind the image? Abigail couldn’t say, but the entire package continued to intrigue her.

Drew didn’t waste any time getting started. He motioned for his team to come up and he took a seat. The move surprised her, then again when would she stop expecting him to do the expected?

The client sold jewelry. They had a vision of something sophisticated, exclusive and memorable. With a plan to do the heaviest marketing for Thanksgiving and Christmas, the smart way was to gear the ads toward men who planned to propose or gift their significant other with a bauble. The way to convince the men was to appeal to women first. Instead, what his team came up with was an old world feel to jewelry. Not like the ’50s ads where “mom” wore her pearls while cleaning.

His team painted a picture of buying the jewels not for marriage or Christmas or even Mother’s day, but as a show of status. Remembering the speakeasy note, without question his input had been the ’20s era feel. He caught the subtle message Lancaster couldn’t put into words—they wanted their demographic to be wealthy. Not the customers who needed to make lifetime payments but the kind who would be lifetime customers.

She couldn’t understand why his former boss had let him leave the building without a full-frontal bribery attempt to get him to stay. Not only had he given the client exactly what he envisioned, but had found the weakness in her team’s initial presentation.

He turned to her and his look said, “The ball’s in your court.”

She might have been able to deal with Drew if he’d turned around with a smug expression. This was a challenge between them and not the team. That surprised her and she had no idea how to respond. It felt like a change she wasn’t ready for. Ready or not, the ball was in her court.

How apt.

*****

“Impressed.” Drew followed Abigail back down to her office. “You didn’t go for the usual intimate at-home proposal. The glitzy fifty-year anniversary. You gave the sophisticated, exclusive and memorable an emotional angle.”

Her team had. “Emotion, like sex, sells.”

They entered the main part of the office. Kristin was focused on the laptop screen, but the woman glanced up when they came in.

“Sweets,” Abigail said.

“On it,” her assistant replied, but saved her work first.

Abigail hesitated before going into the office. They would be alone for the first time since saying good bye at her car door. He hadn’t brought up last night. He hadn’t even made a veiled comment.

She wanted to jump on the balls of her feet like a boxer, but instead she glided into the office, waited for him to come through and shut the door behind him. Drew didn’t sit down but went to the window. Nerves made her pace around her desk.

“Relax, Abby,” he said. “I’m not going to jump you now that we’re alone.”

She lifted her chin. “I was just thinking how inappropriate this,” she motioned between them though he couldn’t see her, “feels now.”

Drew glanced over his shoulder a moment, but that’s all it took to convey he still wanted Abigail, despite her aloof manner. Her knees went a little weak at the brief expression.

He rolled his shoulders. “Regretting last night.” He didn’t even bother to craft the statement as a question.

“I wasn’t thinking about my team,” Abigail said.

“Abby,” he spoke softly. “Like I told you before, whatever happens between us won’t be a deciding factor for what happens to your team.” He turned then and anger replaced the desire. The corners of his mouth tightened. “Last night didn’t happen because I wanted leverage. It didn’t happen because you could somehow take advantage of our attraction. Last night happened because I’ve wanted you longer than what’s acceptable, and for the first time you let yourself want me back.”