by Julie Leto
He released one of her hands, leaned forward and kissed her—but didn’t move. Didn’t pump into her. He denied her the friction her body so desperately wanted, even though she knew he had to be on fire, even without the lubricant igniting his skin. “Drew?”
“Shh,” he said. “I just want to savor this a second. You’ve got me so keyed up, it could be over in a heartbeat.”
She could not resist shifting her hips a bit. He moaned rapturously. She moved again, loving how he registered every minor adjustment. He placed a hand on her hip, at first to still her, and then to help her find just the right angle, just the right direction.
“Annie, oh, Annie,” he breathed.
She’d never felt so powerful. So worshipped. He spoke her name as if he’d never felt such ecstasy before. After watching the pleasure build up within him to near bursting, Annie started to lose focus. He kissed her, touched her and pumped inside her until her mind filled with colors unlike any she’d ever seen.
And then he came. He cried out with his orgasm, but did not stop moving within her except for a fraction of a second when he slipped his hand between them, touched her clit and sent her soaring.
When he finally lowered himself onto her, she accepted his warmth wordlessly. At some point, she supposed, the shock of what they’d just done would sink in.
But she hoped it wasn’t anytime soon.
7
WHILE ANNIE slipped into the shower, Drew lay back against the pillows and replayed the morning in his mind. He could still taste her sweet flavors on his tongue. His nerve endings reverberated from the residual friction of her skin against his. Making love with Annie had been everything he’d imagined and anticipated—and more. If they didn’t have an appointment with the designer for Bianca’s wedding dress in just over an hour, he would have joined her in the bathroom and kept her in the water and steam with him until they looked like prunes.
From the moment he’d met her, he’d been fascinated by her bold love of life. Even amidst her divorce and single motherhood, Annie hadn’t backed down from challenges. She’d risen above heartbreak, but he feared she’d lost a little of herself in the process—mainly, her ability to trust.
Convincing her to have sex with him was one thing—persuading her to build a relationship was something else entirely.
And yet, he’d settle for nothing less. Sex wasn’t enough to satisfy his attraction for her. Unlike many men his age, Drew always knew exactly what he wanted out of life. He didn’t wander. He didn’t dabble. Once Drew decided what he wanted, he went after it.
And from the moment he’d met her, he’d wanted Annie.
At first, even he’d thought his attraction to her had been nothing but a schoolboy crush. He’d run into her at events where their families mixed and he would fantasize about being old enough to win her away from her husband. But after a while, he’d realized he felt much more than infatuation. Now she was single and available. And he was old enough to turn her head.
There was the complication of her being a mom, but he’d always thought her boys were awesome. Dirty, grubby, curious and too smart for their own good, but awesome nonetheless. He hadn’t thought much about fatherhood, but on the whole, the idea agreed with him.
When Leo had told them about the surprise wedding, Drew knew his chance at Annie had finally come. She’d settled into her new life. From Bianca’s reports, she’d healed nicely from her husband’s neglect. What issues she hadn’t resolved, he’d help her with. Drew wanted Annie for the long haul—forever, if he could manage it. And this weekend was his ticket in.
Still, he was keenly aware that she had already believed in forever once and had the whole fairy tale ripped out from under her. He was going to have to convince her that risking her heart with him was no risk at all.
When she emerged from the shower in a hotel bathrobe, her skin freshly scrubbed and pink and her expression a little shy, he thought he might lose his mind with wanting her again. But he couldn’t give in again so soon. He had to play this smart.
“I called the design house,” he told her. “They’re expecting us in about an hour.”
“How does Bianca know this designer again?”
Drew grinned. With her extensive travels and bubbly personality, his sister knew someone in just about every profession from every corner of the world.
“They met when Bianca and Coop were in Belize, I think. Leo called her when he came up with the surprise wedding idea. Come to find out she had a dress in her spring collection that she thought would work perfectly. Of course, since my sister is not shaped like a coat hanger, she’s remaking the original. I think she’s doing the bridesmaid dresses, too, right?”
Annie shrugged. “Leo told us not to worry, so I suppose she must be. But if Joslyn Jones is a friend, isn’t she coming to the wedding?”
“She’s flying in for the ceremony, yeah.”
“Then why couldn’t she have brought the dress and fitted Bianca in Tampa?”
Drew forced his face to remain passive. That scenario had been suggested by the designer—and dismissed. Drew had wanted to sweep Annie off her feet with a trip to the big city, remind her of the daring life she’d once led, so he’d made sure things went his way.
“Her studio and all her supplies are here,” he said. “So it was easier if we came to her.”
“Easier for whom?”
“For her. And for me.”
She chuckled. “I’d love to have been a fly on the wall when you were discussing fashion.”
“Hey, I’ve watched a few episodes of Project Runway.”
“And that makes you an expert?”
“No, that’s why you’re here,” he said, unable to keep from touching her any longer. He grabbed the hem of her robe and tugged her onto the bed, rolling her beneath him. She smelled like herbal shampoo and tasted like toothpaste. In seconds, her body relaxed beneath his, completely compliant to his touch.
The pain of having to tear himself away nearly blinded him. But he had to keep his eyes on the ultimate prize. With an unrestrained groan, he grabbed his shower kit from beside the bed and headed toward the bathroom.
Even with the door shut, he heard her mutter, “So the only reason I’m here is to be a live mannequin and lend my outdated fashion sense to Bianca’s beautiful wedding.”
Drew laughed and cracked the door open so she could hear him loud and clear. “Honey, if that’s why you think you’re here, I’m not doing my job right.”
SINCE DREW’S EXPERIENCE with a fashion designer’s workshop was limited to the ones he’d seen on television, he was utterly surprised that Joslyn Jones’s studio was a wide-open, elegant space with little fuss and no mess. The appointment-only boutique had beveled mirrors that captured the light streaming in from the glass storefront. Simple, single-garment displays showed off Joslyn’s unique perspective. Wispy materials. Feminine lines. A predilection for cool blues, vibrant greens or soft grays. He wondered if the designer had a pilot’s license because he’d only seen this particular palette while flying over the islands on a slightly stormy day.
“Wow,” Annie said, smoothing her hands nervously up and down her jeans. “This is a showplace.”
“You’ll fit right in, then,” he said.
She eyed him as if he’d lost his mind. “I’m pretty sure there’s a peanut butter stain on the ass of these jeans.”
He leaned back and perused her backside, but instantly forgot what he was supposed to be looking for. Those curves could strike a man dumb. His palms itched to tug her close, but he knew this wasn’t exactly the time or the place, particularly when a young woman dressed entirely in blue-gray except for a burnished silver necklace strode into the room and welcomed them to Joslyn’s salon.
“Drew? Annie?” she greeted with a smile. “I’m Tara Kennedy, Joslyn’s assistant. She’s just finishing up with a project and will be out in a moment. Can I offer you some wine? Bottled water?”
Annie shook her head, so Drew decline
d the refreshments.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Annie stepped toward the nearest display—an asymmetrical blouse in various shades of green paired with a slim skirt in stark white. “These clothes are lovely,” she said, though she kept her hands tucked deep in her pockets, as if afraid she might get something on the designer duds if she dared touch them.
Tara beamed. “These are from Joslyn’s spring collection. Would you like to try something on while you wait?”
Annie took a step away from the clothes. “Oh, no. I mean, I’m only here to have Joslyn fit Bianca’s gown. I probably can’t afford anything in here.”
Tara laughed lightly and gave a furtive glance toward Drew, which Annie, in her embarrassment, didn’t seem to notice. “Joslyn loves Bianca and wants this whole experience to be special for you, as well. Maybe after you’ve tried on the gown, you’ll be more in the mood. Would you like a seat or maybe a tour of the workroom?”
Annie’s nervousness visibly multiplied. Though he couldn’t understand why, she clearly didn’t think she belonged in a high-end clothing store. Hell, he didn’t know anyone who deserved pretty things more than Annie.
“I’d love to see where the real work is done,” he said.
“Most people do,” Tara answered. “Joslyn rarely lets customers back into the inner sanctum, but for your sister, she’s pulling out all the stops.”
The workroom was as light and airy as the boutique up front, but decidedly more active. The whirr of sewing machines and fizz of steamers filled the air, as well as music that reminded Drew of his last trip to Jamaica. Kettledrums and flutes and the pluck of a metal-stringed guitar set the tempo. A half-dozen people scurried from workstation to workstation, handling fabric or drawings while another six or so remained stationary and concentrated on finishing seams, hand-painting material or stitching zippers and buttons onto blouses, skirts, pants and a very sparkly evening gown.
The colors in this room were definitely more varied than out front. In fact, Drew was feeling as if he’d stepped into a revolving rainbow when a tall, elegant black woman stepped forward, her hand extended and her smile dazzling against her rich cocoa skin. Like Tara, she was dressed in blue-gray. Must be the hottest color of the season—or else, the uniform.
“You’re Bianca’s brother, all right. You have the same eyes.” She moved with the grace of a dancer and was nearly as tall as Drew. She held out her hand and gave him a surprisingly firm shake. Despite such close proximity, she narrowed her gaze and leaned forward to look into his eyes even more closely. “No, your shade is more champagne. Hers are honey-amber. That’s how we met, your sister and I. I stopped her in a bar to ask if I could look into her eyes.”
Drew didn’t quite know how to respond to that. Luckily, Annie spoke up.
“Did you use the color in your next collection?”
Joslyn’s laugh was deep, throaty and sexy. She bent and gave Annie a warm hug, as if they’d known each other for a long time. “The critics went berserk. I made a mint. If I gaze into Drew’s eyes quite a bit while you’re here, you won’t be jealous, will you?”
Annie tried, not entirely successfully, to hide the pink that blossomed on her cheeks. “His eyes are intoxicating. A woman could lose herself in them, if she isn’t careful.”
He slipped his hand onto the small of Annie’s back. “They’re just brown eyes,” he said.
Joslyn circled him and gave him a complete once-over. “The rest of you isn’t bad, either. Ever do any modeling? I’m thinking of expanding into a menswear line.”
Drew rubbed his hand over his nose, mouth and chin, trying not to laugh. “Not unless you count the homemade superhero costumes my sister used to dress me up in when I was six.”
The humor broke the tension. Joslyn chuckled and Annie scooted away to ooh and aah over Joslyn’s work, which jump-started the designer into giving them a full tour. After about fifteen minutes, however, Tara appeared with a garment bag draped gingerly over her arm.
“Are we ready for the fitting?”
Annie’s smile faded.
“The models I work with usually strip down out in the open, but I’m assuming you’d like a little privacy?” Joslyn asked. Annie nodded.
Tara gestured toward the showroom out front. “We have a dressing room in the boutique. I’ll show you the way.”
“Drew?” Annie asked after she’d taken a few steps, but he had not followed.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” he reassured her, exchanging the briefest, conspiratorial glance with Joslyn, who responded with a barely perceptible nod.
Annie narrowed her eyes, but had no option but to leave after Tara backed up and took her gently by the hand. Once she was out of earshot, Drew turned back to Bianca’s friend.
“Okay, so what do you really have for me?”
Joslyn’s expertly arched brow tilted upward. “You didn’t give me much to go on when you called to verify our appointment. You just said you wanted something special for Annie.”
“Trust me,” he said, lowering his voice even though there was no way Annie could overhear, “whatever makes her feel beautiful will work in my favor.”
8
“IT’S THE UNDERWEAR,” Tara assessed, her French-tipped nails lightly tapping her cheek as she considered Annie’s silhouette from several different angles.
Annie frowned into the full-length mirror, giving a silent nod that the dress didn’t look half as stunning on her as when Tara had unveiled it on a hanger. A whispery confection of pale eggshell silk with threads of iridescent blue-green embroidery, the dress had sapped Annie’s breath. Simple, yet elegant, with natural lines that evoked a singular, breathtaking wave hitting the beach at sunrise, the dress fit Bianca’s personality to perfection. How it would fit her body was another matter altogether.
“Definitely the underwear,” Joslyn agreed.
“I’m not wearing any underwear,” Annie confessed, keenly aware that Drew had not yet emerged from the workroom.
“Well, then, there you have it,” Joslyn declared with a loud clap of her hands. “We don’t call good lingerie foundations for nothing. Most bodies require a little extra help to make a garment fit just right.”
Annie turned back to the mirror. “Bianca’s probably thinner than I am.”
Joslyn waved her hand dismissively. “No, she isn’t. That girl has a very healthy appetite and muscles from all the hiking and surfing she does. Besides, the dress looks phenomenal as it is, but it will look spectacular with a little boost in the right places. Let me make a few adjustments to the hem and side seam while Tara gets what we need.”
Two other assistants emerged from the work area, but still Drew did not return. Annie felt silly asking after him—he’d done his job in delivering her to the salon. He’d probably sneaked out a back door to find a ballgame at the nearest sports bar. Besides, did she really want him to see her like this? Looking less than perfect in a dress that likely cost ten times as much as her mortgage payment?
She considered the fact that maybe he should see her. Maybe then he’d realize that she wasn’t young and pert and slim like most women his age.
Of course, he’d already seen her naked. From several different angles. If that wasn’t going to discourage him, this lovely dress certainly wasn’t.
Joslyn and her team tucked, pinned, measured and cut for a good twenty minutes before they were satisfied. Then Tara reappeared with a beautiful box. The double J’s of Joslyn’s logo gleamed on top and inside, wrapped in pale blue-and-green tissue, lay the most beautiful corset and matching panties that Annie had ever seen. She held it out in front of her, then blushed profusely when one of the male assistants looked up and grinned.
At the sight of her obvious mortification, he laughed. “Honey, this is the New York fashion scene. No one around here is uptight or shy.”
“No one except me,” she answered.
“I thought you were a famous photojournalist,” Joslyn murmured, pins still stuck in her mou
th. Even in her elegant cashmere blouse and slacks, she’d dropped to the floor to double-check the hem. “Bianca told me all about you.”
“Bianca told you all about my past. Nowadays, I’m just a single mom with two kids.”
Joslyn moved the last of the pins out of her mouth and into the palm of her hand. “You’re not just anything, Annie. Not while you’re in my shop.”
Annie smiled shyly, then agreed to put on the lingerie while the assistants took the dress to the back room to make the changes. Before she disappeared behind the curtain of the dressing room, Tara volunteered to bring out the dress Joslyn had selected for Bianca for the rehearsal.
“It laces up in the back, so it should fit Bianca fine.”
Annie forced a smile. She’d expected this afternoon to be a little more fun. Trying on designer clothes in expensive surroundings, experiencing a world so removed from her own that she might as well have flown to another planet, had promised a break from the monotony of her life. But instead, she was coping with body issues and uncharacteristic shyness. She’d been bold with Drew earlier, but not nearly as confident and brazen as she’d been when she was younger. Where had that formidable woman gone?
The lost vixen returned a bit once Annie slipped into the glorious lingerie. The corset top cinched her breasts, lifting them to pre-nursing heights. Her stomach flattened and her derriere curved higher. She’d always thought underwear had to be black or red to be sexy, but this sweet nothing, in the same pale eggshell of Bianca’s gown, set off Annie’s skin and made her eyes pop even greener. Still wearing the strappy gold sandals her sister-in-law would wear for the wedding, she looked like a million bucks.
And where was Drew?
Tara returned, sliding a beautiful, butter-yellow dress into the room. She gave Annie time to slip it over her head, then came in and tied the criss-cross stays in the back. When Annie turned toward the mirror, Tara’s smile was startling.
