The One for Me

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The One for Me Page 13

by Sydney Landon


  • • •

  Mark looked at his watch and wondered what was keeping Crystal. He’d never admit the number of times that he’d looked out the window tonight thinking he heard her car—then swallowed a pang of disappointment when he was wrong. He got to his feet, intending to have a drink of something strong enough to take his mind off her when his phone chimed with a text. Rough night. Tired so needed to come home. Talk soon. What in the ever-loving fuck? She was standing him up? So this is what the other side of things feels like. He read her words again, looking for some hidden meaning. Was she blowing him off because she wasn’t interested, or had her bitch of a mother upset her? Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter and walked out to his Porsche. He wasn’t some boy who was left hanging by a woman. He’d told her to come to him tonight, and he damn well planned to find out why she hadn’t. If he found her lounging in front of the TV looking calm and relaxed, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

  He was pissed when he pounded on her door. He had gone beyond that after a few minutes when there was no reply. He called her phone and it went immediately to voice mail. He was rapping on the door one last time, when he heard the security chain inside rattling. Then the door was flung open and a fully dressed—and quite angry—woman glared at him from inside the doorway. Crystal’s clothing was wrinkled and her hair was sticking up in every direction—but, fuck, she looked beautiful. She opened her mouth, obviously intent on blasting him, but he stepped forward, pushing his way inside. Her shriek of outrage made his ears ring, but he ignored it. Instead of replying, he pushed her backward against the nearest wall and fastened his lips on hers. He ate at her mouth as if starving for her taste. She resisted for a moment before giving in with a groan of her own. “Angel,” he breathed against her lips as he sucked her tongue into his mouth.

  He had no idea how he managed it—possibly he was more talented than he knew, but almost before he could process it, they were both naked. Her legs wrapped around his waist, he was inches away from plunging into her when he remembered the condom. He cursed, extricating himself from their embrace and then feeling for his pants. As he pulled a condom from his wallet, he thanked whatever god was responsible for ensuring every guy over the age of fifteen had a rubber stored somewhere on him at all times. Her nails were raking his back in impatience as he deftly sheathed himself. His Angel was somewhat of an animal when she was turned on and he loved it. He’d proudly bear the marks of her eagerness tomorrow. “Now, please, Mark,” she cried out, the impatience in her voice snapping his tenuous control. He hooked her leg around his hip and drove into her hard. “Yes!” she screamed as he pounded her greedy core. He was close, so he dropped his hand to rub her clit, but before he could make contact, she contracted around his cock as she came. Damn, this woman had no idea what a sexual creature she was. He’d yet to touch her when she wasn’t eager, wet, and damn near halfway to orgasm before he penetrated her.

  She was slumped against him once he found his release, and he used what little reserves he had left to follow her sleepy directions to the bedroom. He held her with one hand while stumbling along until he made contact with the lamp on her bedside table. He flipped it on, and then deposited her gently onto the bed. She immediately curled a hand under her cheek and shut her eyes. He located her bathroom and some washcloths. Returning, he cleaned between her legs and tossed the cloth toward the bathroom before flipping the light off. “Angel, baby, move over,” he murmured against her cheek as he attempted to shift her lax body.

  “I love it when you do that,” she mumbled.

  “What?” he asked as he finally managed to wedge in beside of her.

  “Wash me. No one’s ever taken care of me like that,” she said softly before throwing a leg over his and collapsing on his chest.

  He shifted until he had her cradled in his arms. He ran a hand idly through her dark tresses, rubbing her scalp soothingly. He didn’t know if she was asleep yet, but he couldn’t resist asking, “What happened at your parents’ tonight, baby?”

  There was nothing but silence for at least a full minute, and then she sighed. “It was a setup. I didn’t find out until I was already there that Ella wasn’t invited. Instead, my ex-husband showed up shortly after I arrived. My mother is still determined that I go back to him, and she never misses an opportunity to throw us together.” When she hissed, “Ouch,” he realized that his hand had tightened painfully in her hair.

  “Sorry, Angel,” he said as he forced himself to relax once again. He’d never even met the woman, but he wanted to strangle her meddling mother. Curious, he asked, “Why didn’t you just leave?”

  Her finger drew circles on his chest, making his cock twitch to life. It was getting to the point that if she even looked in his direction, he was hard. He’d jacked off more in the last few days while thinking of her than he had in years. He was so distracted when she finally answered him that he had to ask her to repeat herself. “It’s always been easier to go with the flow and not rock the boat. Dad called it humoring her. Ella and I learned long ago that it was pointless to argue and that it just prolonged our misery if we did.”

  Blowing out an exasperated breath, he said, “Angel—that’s not humoring her, that’s being subservient. Plus, you’re divorced now. Why in the world would she think it was okay for her to continue to invite your ex-husband over? If they have a close relationship, then she should see him when you aren’t there. Unless you want him back.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he fought the urge to get up and leave the room in a show of anger.

  Her hand stilled, and he could feel her eyes on him in the dark. “What? No! Of course not. I was the one who left him. I mean, he said some things tonight that were surprising, and I’m flattered that he wants us to see a marriage counselor together—but it’s too late.”

  Mark wondered if she was aware that the last part of her sentence sounded more like a question than a statement. So what did he do? Instead of being understanding and giving her the support that she no doubt needed after what she’d been through, he pushed her away and stood. Without saying a word, he made his way back through the dark apartment to the living room where their clothes were still lying in a pile. He dressed quickly and turned to find her standing just inches away. “I need to get home,” he forced out. He was angry with her, and he had no right to be. He was being a complete and utter asshole, and he knew it.

  He wanted her to say something snide to justify him stomping off, but she simply said, “All right.” The part of him that wasn’t a bastard had him walking to her and dropping a kiss on her mouth. And that was it. He’d made the trip across town, had amazing sex, and then turned his back when things got complicated. It was his MO and what he did best. He got what he wanted and didn’t spare a thought for the woman afterward. Though as he got into his car and drove away, he knew that was no longer true. This time he’d taken off because he was shaken by the two things that were choking him—jealousy and fear.

  For the first time in his life, he had something to lose. Why was he so scared to lose something that wasn’t his to begin with?

  Chapter Thirteen

  “He treated you like a booty call,” Mia snarled as soon as she had heard. “I don’t care how hot he is, the man is a dickhead.”

  Gwen nodded solemnly, before taking a bite of her pizza. “I agree,” she managed to say around the food in her mouth.

  Crystal grimaced and chanced a look at her boss, Lydia, across the table. She hadn’t intended to get into her night with Mark when she’d invited Lydia to lunch with them, but Mia as always had picked right up on her glum expression. “Maybe he’s one of those guys who can only sleep in his own bed,” Mia offered hopefully.

  The truth was, she was beyond depressed over Mark’s hasty exit from her bedroom and her apartment. He’d run out as if his ass were on fire. And, even more strange, he’d seemed pissed. She could understand if he was angry on her behalf at her moth
er’s deception, but that wasn’t what it was. She’d felt like his anger was directed at her, and she couldn’t figure out why.

  Lydia looked intrigued. Crystal had a feeling this was like a real-life soap opera playing out in front of her boss. “So who is this guy? You haven’t mentioned that you were seeing anyone.”

  “It’s Mark DeStudo—er . . . DeSanto,” Mia blurted out before Crystal could stop her.

  “Nooo!” Lydia gaped. “Not Mr. Big!”

  “Mr. Big?” Gwen asked as she finished her pizza and laid a hand on her baby bump.

  Lydia giggled, fanning herself. “That’s what I call him. I swear, he reminds me of Mr. Big from Sex and the City. You know, in the first episodes when Chris Noth was younger. He’s all tall, dark, brooding, and he flipping rocks those power suits.” Then her eyes widened as she asked reverently, “Oh, my God, have you really slept with him?”

  Crystal’s mind was still stuck on how accurate the Mr. Big analogy was when Mia elbowed her. “The woman asked you a question, Crys, and since I’ve already let the cat out of the bag once, I’ll let you take this one.” She had managed to tell Mia, Gwen, and, of course, Ella, about her first sexual encounter with Mark, but that was the extent of it. Even though she was friends with Lydia, she’d been hesitant about sharing it with her. She hadn’t wanted to upset the other woman since she was still mourning the loss of her fiancé. Now it looked like she didn’t have a choice.

  “Um—yeah, I have. I mean it’s not serious between us or anything. Actually, I don’t know what it is,” she admitted.

  Lydia propped her head in her hands and gave her a sappy smile. “Was it good?” Before Crystal could answer, Lydia slapped her forehead dramatically. “What am I saying? Of course it was! That man is like a walking G-spot stimulator.”

  Mia started cackling so loud, Crystal was afraid she was going to pass out. Her face turned an alarming shade of red before she finally managed to take a breath. “You’re my new best friend, Lydia,” she managed to wheeze out. “That was brilliant!”

  Lydia looked tickled with the compliment and did a fist bump with her new BFF. “Honey, I just call ’em like I see ’em. There’s so much testosterone around Danvers that my hoo-ha is quivering some days.” Pointing at Gwen, she shook her head before adding, “And your man and his band of G.I. Joes are prime panty-melting material. I don’t know how you normally function because I’d be resorting to humping his leg or something during the workday.”

  Instead of looking offended, Gwen raised her glass of tea in a salute and chimed in with “Hear, hear. Don’t I know it. You should try to live with a man who looks the way he does naked. I’m in perpetual heat.”

  Crystal could only gawk at her boss. Here she’d been avoiding talking about men in front of her out of respect for her feelings, and she was now finding out that the woman was something of a pervert. It was the best news she’d had all day! Deciding to test her theory, she asked, “So, Lydia . . . if you had to pick a favorite from the hot men of Danvers, who would it be? Don’t be shy—Gwen won’t beat you up if it’s Dominic, and I’ll certainly understand if it’s Mr. Big.”

  Lydia pursed her lips, and then looked around the crowded restaurant as if to make sure that no one was listening to their conversation. Lowering her voice she said, “All right, please don’t repeat this, but Jacob Hay makes me weak in the knees. I swear I’d agree to have the man’s children, clean his house, and drive a freaking station wagon if he said the word.”

  “Who’s that?” Crystal asked, racking her memory. “The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”

  “Oh, baby,” Mia cooed, “you’ve got great taste there.”

  “I don’t know him either,” Gwen admitted. “Do you have any stalker pictures of him like Crystal has of Mark?”

  Lydia looked at Crystal in surprise. “I can’t believe you don’t know him if you’ve been watching Mark. Jacob works for him. From what I’ve gathered through my . . . research, he’s the number two man at DeSanto Group.”

  “So, Mr. Big, Junior,” Gwen smirked. “I’m liking this a lot. How did you meet him?”

  Laughing, Lydia admitted, “It was the whole damsel-in-distress thing. I worked late and then ended up in a deserted parking garage with a car that wouldn’t start. I was on my way back in the building to call my auto club when I ran smack into someone.” Looking slightly embarrassed, she added, “I kind of thought I was being mugged and started screaming for help.”

  “No way,” Mia winced. “I bet he’s not used to women yelling anything other than his name.”

  “I’m pretty sure he was afraid I was insane,” Lydia agreed. “He held his hands out in front of him, and then actually showed me his company identification badge. When I finally calmed down, I was humiliated because this was the most gorgeous man I’d seen in ages and I’d made a total ass of myself.”

  Propping her elbows on the table, Gwen mused, “So I guess he didn’t leave you stranded, right?”

  Lydia fanned herself. “Nope, when I explained my car issue to him, he rolled up his sleeves and had me pop the hood latch. Then he proceeded to fix the thing right there. I still have no idea what was wrong with it, but can you believe the man was actually willing to work on my car? I know he was wearing expensive clothing. He ended up with an oil stain on his shirtsleeve, but he refused to let me take care of the cleaning bill.”

  “Sweet mother,” Mia moaned. “Now I want to have his babies too.”

  “I’m sorry”—Lydia shook her head—“but I’m Jacob’s future baby mama. Plus, he’s friends with your man, Seth, and his brother, Ash.”

  “I know.” Mia snorted. “He’s been to our place before. He does seem like a nice guy, and apparently, he’s mechanical as well. You know what that means, right?” When everyone shook their heads, she added, “He’s good with his hands.”

  “Ohhh!” Gwen wiggled her brows. “I like that in a man.”

  “Don’t get any ideas about Lydia’s man,” Crystal teased. “You’re Dominic’s baby mama, and I have a feeling he doesn’t share.”

  They joked around for a few more minutes before Mia asked, “So, what’re you going to do about Mark?”

  All humor left her as Crystal once again focused on her problem. “I don’t know. I mean, it was kind of hot the way he showed up out of the blue and . . . took charge of things. We were lying in my bed afterward, and he asked how dinner went at my parents. I even told him about my ex-husband and how he wanted me to go to marriage counseling with him.”

  “Whoa,” Gwen interrupted, holding her hand up. “I think I missed something here. What exactly happened with Bill?”

  Crystal quickly filled them in on her latest unpleasant parental encounter. “So, as you can imagine, that was kind of unexpected. Bill had never admitted that he shared the blame in the breakup of our marriage. I was reeling when I left there, which is why I didn’t go to Mark’s as I’d planned to do. I just sent him a text and went home to bed. Then he showed up sometime later pounding on the door and acting all . . . sexy. Now you’re up-to-date.”

  Lydia put her hand over Crystal’s arm. “Honey, I know I’ve been out of the whole dating game for a while, but the problem here is obvious to me.”

  “Me too,” Mia piped in, while Gwen nodded her agreement as well.

  Confused, Crystal looked at her friends and said, “Well, then someone clue me in. Is this just how a booty call goes or something?”

  “I don’t think that’s what his visit was about at all,” Lydia began. “I believe he was upset because you broke your plans to go see him via a text message. You can rest assured that stuff like that doesn’t happen to Mark DeStudo. Then after he rocked your world with his sexiness, you told him all about how your ex-husband wants you back.”

  “That’s like two strikes against his manhood,” Mia agreed.

  “Well, what was the third strike that caused him to leave?” Crystal asked, beginning to understand that she might have been a tad too
loose-lipped with him the previous night. Too much information—not good.

  “I don’t really know him,” Gwen inserted, “but I’m guessing Mark is an alpha male, like Dominic. If so, then there are no three strikes. Two big hits like that would push him to leave and regroup.”

  “Bu-but,” Crystal sputtered, before putting her hand over her face. “I’m so far out of my league. I’ve gone straight from a Toyota to some fancy sports car.”

  “Crys, if the hickey on the side of your neck is any indication, girl, then you’re somewhere around a Ferrari level.”

  “What?” Crystal shrieked. She’d been so distracted when she was getting dressed this morning that she hadn’t noticed anything. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  Without looking, Lydia shook her head. “Afraid not, sweetie. I saw it myself but figured it was from a curling iron since neither you nor I have seen much action in a while.”

  “It’s only noticeable when you turn your head a certain way,” Gwen added helpfully. “Just stare straight ahead when you’re talking to people.”

  “That’s great,” Crystal mumbled as she attempted to pull the collar of her blouse higher. “I have a hickey for the first time ever, and I ran Mark off last night by telling him the truth.” Throwing her hands up in the air, she snapped, “There are just some weeks you’re born to lose!”

  “You haven’t necessarily lost anything,” Mia said thoughtfully. “Having an alpha man myself, I can tell you one thing. They’re only pissed at a woman if she matters to him. The fact that Mark got his undies in a wad over you seeing Bill tells me that he was jealous, and it’s probably not a feeling that he’s well acquainted with.”

  “So true,” Gwen agreed dryly. “In my long and disappointing love life before Dominic, I can tell you that men couldn’t give a shit about stuff like that unless they are emotionally involved. I once dated a guy who brought up my ex-boyfriend constantly, even encouraging me to give the guy another chance. You’re under Mark’s skin, and he’s out of his league with you as well.”

 

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