by Mia Sosa
She dropped her head into the crook of his neck and nipped at him.
He used his tongue to lave her nipples through the bra. A soft “oh” escaped her lips. He studied her face, captivated by the way her mouth fell open, soft and wet. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
She opened her eyes and her gaze landed everywhere but on him.
“Listen to me, Karen. The sound of your voice turns me on. Everything about you turns me inside out. Tell me what you want. I guarantee you, whatever you say will be perfect.”
She brushed a tendril of hair away from her face and nodded. “I…Mark…I need your cock in me. I just want to feel you pump inside me over and over. Right now.”
His dick swelled at her words. This would happen just as she wanted it to. He lifted her off him and set her on his desk; she spread her legs for him and tugged him close. Then her hands dropped to his waist, where she worked quickly to undo his belt and pull down his slacks. She reached into her purse and produced a condom like she’d pulled a rabbit out of a hat.
Her roaming hands stilled. “Tada, indeed. Were you planning all along to give me more than an empanada?”
“Nope. I carry them everywhere I go. Always prepared. That’s my motto.”
“Well, I’m so fucking glad you had one.”
She dropped her head against his shoulder. “So am I.”
He didn’t care for any more conversation. Not this time. After sheathing himself, he removed her shoes and reached for her panties. Finding none, he groaned. “You went commando?”
“I’d like to think of it as going G.I. Jane.”
He leaned forward and smiled into her neck. His hands wrapped around her ass and he pulled her to the edge of the desk. Then he centered himself at her entrance and pushed inside. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“Because you’re so fucking big.”
“And you love it.”
“I do. I really, really do.”
He pushed farther inside, wincing when her nails dug into his back. He grabbed on to her waist and pushed harder, each stroke deeper than the last. Her sounds of pleasure coached him, urging him through her moans and heavy breathing to help her reach an explosive orgasm. He wanted that for her—badly. Just as badly as he wanted it for himself.
With each thrust of her hips, her moans grew louder. Still cognizant of where they were, he covered her lips with his, taking her sounds into his mouth as though they were his own. His balls grew heavy and tight, the climax so close. He placed two fingers on her clit and rubbed her. She whimpered, and then her body shook from the force of her orgasm, her hand slapping his desk repeatedly as the wave of pleasure hit her. He didn’t take long to join her. Two strokes in, his release slammed into him, and he found himself unsteady on his feet as he rode it out.
He snapped his eyes shut and shook his head. She rested against him, breathing fast and heavy.
“That was incredible,” he said as he threw the condom in the trash. “If that’s what I can expect when you visit me for lunch, feel free to show up every day.”
Like an electric shock, the words he’d uttered sank into his psyche and zapped him of his coordination. He fumbled with the zipper of his slacks. Fuck. Now he’d gone and done the unthinkable: He’d let his mind trick him into thinking their short-term arrangement had blossomed into something more.
She rose, her movements slow and unsure. Her gaze never leaving his, she slipped her arms through the spaghetti straps and smoothed the skirt of her dress. “Your empanadas are probably cold.”
He rolled up his sleeves. “I’ll live. Thanks for bringing them.”
Her soft smile reminded him of the shy woman he’d spent time with in Puerto Rico.
“Just remember,” she said. “I came to bring you lunch.” Pointing between them, she continued, “You’re the one who turned it into this.”
“So noted.”
She puffed out a breath and grabbed her purse. “Okay. I’m off to finish buying books for my first semester.”
The urge to do something made him call out her name. “Karen, before you go, I need to talk to you about something.”
She turned to face him and regarded him with wariness in her eyes. “What’s up?”
“It’s Gracie and Ethan. They’ve been pressing me to go on dates, and I’m running out of excuses for why I’m never available. And well, the more I think about this…us, I think it would be a good idea if I contacted the woman they have in mind. It’ll get them off my back, for one thing. For another thing, you’re starting medical school soon, so…”
His voice trailed off, and she finished the sentence for him. “So you should get started on your plans to find Mrs. Lansing, right?”
“Well, that’s skipping a few steps, but that’s the basic idea. I just wanted you to know. Like you said before, just so there’s no confusion. I didn’t want you to think I was being dishonest about my intentions.”
“Oh no, Mark. I’d never accuse you of dishonesty. You’ve been painfully honest every step of the way.”
He nodded, ignoring the way she’d stressed the word painfully. “Okay.”
She massaged her temples. “So are we done, or do you still want to see me?”
“It’s up to you.”
She licked the front of her teeth and stared out his office window. “I think as long as we both know what’s going on here, there’s no reason to stop…” Her brow furrowed, likely because she was searching for the right words.
He didn’t know how to define what they were doing, either, but he knew he didn’t want to stop. Not yet. “I agree with you. Just so we’re all clear.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he echoed.
She dropped her chin. “One thing, though.”
“Anything.”
“Well, I just don’t feel comfortable with the idea that you’d be having sex with her, too. So if you—”
“Karen, there’s no way I’d do that. You can be one hundred percent sure of that.”
“All right. Well, if things change, just tell me. I can be mature about this.”
“Okay.”
“Tomorrow night then?”
“Sure. That works.”
She strode toward him, appearing mussed and thoroughly sated. Her gaze bore into his before she kissed his lips. “Thanks for a lovely time.”
She’d said it like a woman thanking a man on their first date. Like she didn’t know him well, and didn’t care to. It didn’t matter, he reasoned. He’d eke out whatever pleasure he could get from their remaining time together and move on. And although it would hurt him to let her go, he knew it was the right thing to do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The first day of med school was only a week away.
Although she’d managed to wade through half of Netter’s Atlas of Human Anatomy, the only anatomy that captured her attention came in the form of a strapping, two-hundred-pound man who paced his living room. She’d come to learn that he sorted out work matters on the move, unable to sit in a chair for very long.
Wearing one of his dress shirts and nothing else, Karen swiveled the counter stool and positioned herself to admire him. After a few seconds, he froze and whipped his head up in her direction. He planted himself in the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his bare chest. His jeans, unbuttoned and zipped halfway, hung low on his hips. The patch of hair below his waist teased her, because she knew what she’d find at the end of that happy trail, and she also knew she only had a limited time in which to enjoy it.
She’d lost focus for another reason, too. Mark had been unavailable two nights this week. Nothing about that fact struck her as out of the ordinary, but when she’d asked him about his plans, he’d sidestepped her question. She needed to know—no matter how hard it would be to stomach his response. “So did you meet with that woman Gracie and Ethan set you up with?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
Shit. Why d
id that hurt so fucking much? Maybe she couldn’t do this. “What’s her name?”
He tilted his head in her direction. “You really want to know?”
She shrugged. “Sure, why not? I’m not a psycho, Mark. I’m not going to boil a rabbit in her house or anything. It’s cool.”
He sat on the stool next to her, his gaze fixed on the digital clock in his kitchen. “Her name’s Sharon Castellano.” He grabbed a sheaf of papers on the kitchen counter and straightened them. “This is weird, Karen. Suffice it to say we had a decent time. Hard to say where it’ll lead.”
“Fair enough. Just asking. Didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Let’s forget about it, okay?”
“It’s forgotten.”
That night they went to bed with space between them, a marked change from their usual spooning positions.
It was for the best, wasn’t it? Soon they wouldn’t share any space at all.
* * *
No matter how hard she tried, Karen couldn’t stop picturing Mark on his date with Sharon Castellano. To make matters worse, Gracie had invited her to a home design center, to get her opinion on a slab of granite for the kitchen island in Gracie and Ethan’s new home. Boredom and jealousy made for a very unpleasant mix. If Karen was lucky, a runaway slab of granite would slam into her head and knock her unconscious.
Her first mistake had been to ask Mark about the date. While she pretended to be unconcerned about it, last night’s seemingly offhand inquiry had occupied her thoughts ever since. He’d said the date was decent, but what else could he say? She was open to discussing his attempts at dating, but she suspected that if any of those dates went well, Mark wouldn’t flaunt that fact in her face. She should have feigned disinterest and left the subject alone.
Gracie sprinted to the next slab of granite. “Oooh. This one’s beautiful. What do you think?”
Karen stared at the slab and shrugged. “It’s nice?”
Gracie lifted her head toward the ceiling of the showroom. “Why did I ask you to come with me again?”
“Because no one else is crazy enough to do this with you?”
Gracie turned her attention to the slab once more. “Right. Thanks for the reminder.”
Karen figured this was as good a time as any to do some sleuthing. “So how are things going on the matchmaking front? For Mark, I mean.”
Distracted by her careful inspection of her favorite slab so far, Gracie didn’t bother to meet Karen’s gaze when she responded. “We’ve gotten nowhere, no thanks to Mark. The man’s so busy, we can’t get him to call the lady.”
“You have someone specific in mind?”
“Yeah. A former co-worker of mine. Sharon Castellano. But Mark keeps making excuses. And now she’s away on vacation in Australia, so they’re probably not going to connect for a few weeks. Before she left, though, she said she hoped she’d hear from him soon.”
“Oh, he hasn’t even contacted her?”
“He couldn’t have. She’s been off the grid at a business retreat.” Gracie looked up at her then. “Why all the questions?”
Karen forced herself not to stutter. “Oh, just wondering. I’m thinking I might know someone who’d be perfect for him.”
Gracie’s eyes widened with interest. “Yeah?”
“Maybe. Let me think about it some more. If he’s not enthused about doing this, I wouldn’t want to get the woman’s hopes up for nothing.”
“Exactly. So far Mark hasn’t been enthusiastic at all. It’s like he’s stalling or something, which is strange given that he was the one to come to Ethan about this. It’s all very confusing. I’ve been meaning to confront him about it, but I think Ethan’s the best person to do that.”
Karen disagreed. She was the best person to confront Mark about it, and she intended to do just that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Mark stared out his office window and brooded. He hated lying to Karen, but if they wanted a clean break from each other, the lie would help them accomplish it. Then she’d go off to medical school. And he’d contact Sharon Castellano—for real. The plan was simple, but it wasn’t easy to execute.
His assistant buzzed him. “Mark, your dad’s here.”
Great. He’d completely forgotten about the other development that had made him edgy. This morning his father had asked to see him. In the city. Both of those facts concerned him. His father came to see him only rarely, and he hated the city. Whatever had drawn him out of his self-imposed exile meant bad news. He was sure of it.
Mark massaged his chest and braced himself for whatever his father’s visit would bring. So when his father waltzed through his office door, Mark couldn’t have been more surprised by the man who greeted him. He appeared to be happy. In fact, he’d taken extra care with his attire, and he’d styled his hair differently—meaning he’d actually combed it instead of relying on his customary harried professor hairdo.
His father shook his hand with confidence. “It’s good to see you, son.”
“Same here.”
“May I sit?”
Mark gestured to one of the chairs facing his desk. “Of course.” He waited for his father to settle into his seat. Just barely, though. “So what’s going on? The last time we saw each other in the city was ages ago, and you came under protest.”
“I have news. Your mother and I are making a second go of it.”
Mark stared at his father. “A second go of what, exactly?”
“A second go of our relationship. We’re getting back together.”
He couldn’t help being moved by his father’s expectant gaze. Was his father seeking his approval? That would be ridiculous—and unnecessary. His father was an adult, after all, and Mark’s views on a reconciliation between his parents was beside the point. “Is this what you want?”
“Of course it’s what I want. She’s not forcing me to take her back. I’m not under duress, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Okay, okay. Well, what’s the plan? When will you see each other? Is she moving in with you? Are you moving closer to her?”
“Slow down, Mark. We’re not picking out our china and silverware just yet. We’re dating. Getting to know each other again. Trying to see if we’re still compatible.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Several weeks now.”
Several weeks ago his mother had contacted him about Spencer. She must have reached out to his father shortly after that. “And things are good?”
“Things are great. She’s a different woman, and I happen to like the woman she’s become.”
“Well, then I’m happy for you. But you didn’t have to come to the city to tell me this. A phone call would have sufficed, though I appreciate the effort.”
“It was your mother’s idea. Plus, she wanted me to take her to lunch, so I figured I could do both in one trip.”
“Where is she now?”
A rap at the door answered Mark’s question. Seconds later, his mother sailed into his office. He glanced at his father, who suddenly found the pattern of the office’s carpet enthralling.
She glided across the room, enveloped his hands in hers, and gave them a firm squeeze. “Mark, so good to see you, dear.”
His mother’s dark beauty hadn’t faded since he’d seen her in this very office four years ago. She wore her dark brown hair in a blunt cut, and the light touch of makeup she used enhanced her doe eyes.
“Good to see you, Lisa.”
His father cleared his throat and squished his eyes together.
“Oh, don’t be cross with him, Paul. I asked him not to call me ‘mother.’” She waved her hands in the air—because her dismissive tone hadn’t been enough, apparently. “It’s just never been my thing.”
Mark clamped his mouth shut, a well-placed derisive comment on the tip of his tongue. What would be the point? His mother had made the effort to reconnect with his father—and judging by her presence today, she wanted the same opp
ortunity to reconnect with him.
Maybe he’d misunderstood her motivations all these years. After all, he’d only been a kid when she walked away from her marriage, and he had no way of knowing if the marriage had been rocky for other reasons—reasons having to do with his father, even. The simple and mature response would be to wish them well.
His father leaned forward, his knees bouncing. “You’re sure you’re okay with this, son?”
For as long as he could remember, he and his father had operated as a unit—sometimes a dysfunctional unit but a unit nonetheless. So it made sense that his father would worry about his reaction. But he hadn’t meant his silence to alarm his father. “Dad, go take Mo—take Lisa to lunch and have fun.” He walked to the door, hoping to usher them out.
His mother looked up at his father. “See? I told you there was nothing to worry about. Now you know for sure.”
Lisa placed her hand under Mark’s chin and blew his an air kiss. “Bye, dear.” She swept out of the office, his father trailing a few steps behind her. Before his father walked out the door, he turned back. “Look, I know your mother and I might not make sense on paper, but it’s been a while since I’ve taken a leap and just trusted my feelings. Sometimes your heart knows a lot more than your head.”
With that morsel of wisdom out of the way, his father walked out the door, leaving him in a state of confusion.
* * *
After asking Gracie to release her from the torture of granite and tile selections, Karen stormed into Mark’s office, not bothering to stop at his assistant’s reception desk.
Nicole, Mark’s assistant, trailed behind her, begging Karen to let her announce her unscheduled arrival.
Karen nevertheless strode across his office and stood in front of his desk. “You lied to me.”
Behind her, Nicole jumped into the conversation. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lansing. She caught me off guard.”
He kept his gaze on his computer screen. “It’s okay, Nicole. I’ll handle this.”
Nicole walked out muttering about crazy girlfriends and the lack of a job description requiring her to deal with them. Karen would apologize later. For now, she had a man to skewer.
