by V. K. Sykes
They marched up to the eighteenth green, and Torrey practically skipped onto the putting surface. For the last time today—probably for the last time ever—Julian handed her the red Taylor Made putter. Radiating confidence and joy, she stepped up and drained her five-foot par putt. She dropped the club, whipped off her visor and threw it high in the air.
Julian hung back, letting the others thump her on the back or give her congratulatory hugs. When Torrey turned, looking for him, he opened his arms. She jumped into them, almost knocking him over. She clamped her arms around his neck, squeezing him as if she never wanted to let him go. He hugged her and kissed her flushed cheek, noting with a touch of alarm the growing bulge in his pants. When she loosened her grip, he set her down gently.
“You kicked the hell out of that course. To shoot one under par on a tough course that you’ve never played before is damn impressive. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks. I’m speechless, really,” she stammered. “It’s going to take a while for all this to sink in. It was just one of those days when just about everything went right.”
“I’m sure you’re going to have a lot of those days from now on.”
“You deserve most of the credit,” she said. He shook his head, but she insisted. “No, really. I couldn’t have done this without you. I mean that. You did a great job as my caddy. I think you may even have a career alternative if you get tired of being a tycoon,” she kidded.
“It was my pleasure, but the credit’s all yours.” He handed over her golf bag. “Now, as for sponsoring you, I’ll be talking to the guys right now. As far as I’m concerned, they’d be nuts not to sign you on. You’re going to have a great career.”
She gave him a blinding smile, one so full of joy he had no choice but to grin back at her. “Thank you so much, Julian,” she exclaimed. “You know what that would mean to me. Please tell them I’ll do everything I can to make your company proud, I promise.”
“Now listen,” he said, her artless enthusiasm touching him more than he cared to admit. “Tonight, if things go as planned, we’re going to celebrate. Just you and me. I’ve already made a reservation for eight o’clock at Aureole, at Mandalay Bay. I hope that’ll give you enough time. The limo will pick you up at your place at seven-forty.”
“Wonderful.” She glanced at her watch. “But don’t send the limo. I’ll drive myself in and meet you at the Bellagio, okay?”
“Sure, if that’s what you prefer. I’ll see you at my suite then.”
“Great—now I’d better get going. God, what a day! I don’t think my feet will touch the ground for weeks!” She gave him a quick kiss and danced off toward the women’s locker room.
He strolled to the clubhouse. The other guys had already stripped and had hit the showers. He quickly peeled off his own sweat-soaked clothes and joined them.
“Hey, great job out there, Jules! You’ve got a real future as a caddy,” Josh yelled over the sound of the pounding water.
“Why don’t you ask Nick Wells if he could use somebody new?” Julian shot back. “I think I need a sabbatical from you three anyway.” He turned the faucet to what he estimated would be “warm,” but the blast of cold water made him jump back with a curse.
Michael peered out from around his shower stall. “We’re all going to be looking for new jobs if that asshole Kerr gets to be CEO. Me, I’m thinking about buying an NBA team and becoming a hands-on owner. If you get my drift.”
Julian burst out laughing, and Josh and Brendan lost it too. It was good to see the guys so loose. There had been too much tension among the partners the past couple of days, both with the bet and Kerr’s treachery. Besides, he wanted them in a good frame of mind for the discussion about sponsoring Torrey.
Back in the locker room, they quickly dried off and dressed. Julian knew the guys had agreed to meet their caddies for drinks in the Charleswood’s bar, but he asked them to hang back in the clubhouse for a few more minutes. They were the only golfers in the room, and he figured they might as well have the discussion right now, right here.
“Okay, guys. Before I say anything, I’m going to ask each of you to give your opinions about whether OTE sponsors Torrey. Josh?”
Josh shrugged his shoulders. “Fine with me. I’d play with her anytime—if you get my meaning.”
Julian rolled his eyes. “No chance. One vote yes. Michael?”
“I figure policies are like records and rules—eventually they all get broken. I’m with Torrey. She’s a sweetheart and a hell of a player.”
“Thanks, Michael. Bren? You still have a problem?”
Brendan looked deeply troubled. The sudden silence in the room contrasted sharply with the easy banter of the past quarter hour. Finally Brendan spoke.
“Julian, don’t get me wrong. I like Torrey. She’s a fine person, and she seems to have a solid game. I hope she succeeds in making it to the pro tour.” He paused as if he were still figuring out what to say.
Julian already knew he hadn’t changed his opinion. Brendan rarely did, especially when he saw something as a matter of principle. “Go on, Bren.”
“I just don’t think we should change our policies on the fly. And especially not where there are personal issues involved. That’s a slippery slope.”
Julian tamped down a flare of temper. Brendan didn’t have to smack him in the face with the issue of his personal relationship with Torrey—that was obvious to everyone. And maybe he had a legitimate point on the bigger picture, but damn, was it too much to ask for support from his friends this one time?
He stood up. Enough was enough. “Okay. I really hoped the three of you could agree on this because I don’t like to have to weigh in, for obvious reasons. We’ve got two in favor, one opposed. Anybody changing his mind?” He looked at each of them in turn.
“Not me,” Josh said immediately.
Michael looked straight at Brendan. “Bren, stop being such a grumpy Gus. We’re talking peanuts here! I’m sticking with Torrey.”
Brendan stuck to his guns. “It may be peanuts, but that doesn’t make it any less wrong.”
“Fine,” Julian said, cutting off the discussion. “We don’t like to have formal votes, but this time there seems to be no possibility of full consensus. So I vote yes, and that means three in favor, one opposed. Therefore, we’ll be sponsoring Torrey Green for at least the rest of this year.” He gave Brendan a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, pal. Please get your people to contact her to work out the details. Whatever she needs, within reason. And make sure we have an option on her for five years.”
Brendan shot him a disgusted look. “This isn’t right, Julian. And you know it.”
Julian ignored his partner’s retort, heading instead for the door. “Enjoy the rest of the golf, guys. I’m off to New York first thing in the morning. I’ll see you back at the office.”
The limo was waiting for him outside the clubhouse. As he climbed in, he gritted his teeth in frustration. The last thing he’d wanted was a battle among the partners over Torrey’s sponsorship, but Brendan had practically accused him of abandoning principle for sex. Maybe the reason the accusation stung was because it cut a little too close to the bone. How much of his support for Torrey was based on his lust for her? Or his admiration for her tenacity and sheer gutsiness? He’d managed last night to convince himself that he’d made a good business decision, but that seemed less certain in light of his most reliable partner’s dogged opposition.
He shrugged and reached for a water bottle in the limo’s well-stocked bar. Whatever. It was time to move on. Brendan would just have to adjust.
Besides, it was time to concentrate on his last night in Vegas and his plans for Torrey. It would be the last time he’d see her, at least as her lover, and he wanted to make sure he gave her a night to remember. Julian felt a genuine pang of regret at not letting their relationship develop any further, but that kind of involvement was the last thing he needed right now—especially given the problems with the merger. He
could only hope that Torrey would understand.
* * *
Torrey weaved through the late afternoon traffic downtown to the premium outlet mall. Determined not to think about the conversation Julian was having with the other guys—probably at that very moment—she’d decided to distract herself with shopping. There wasn’t a single thing more she could do to influence their decision. She had to put her faith in Julian and leave it at that. He’d come through for her time and again, and she had to trust that he’d do it this time too.
Even before he’d invited her to dinner, she’d been thinking about what she needed to do if he asked her out again. She still didn’t have a proper outfit for an evening at a fine restaurant, and she sure wasn’t about to wear that funeral dress again. But now she had a plan and, hopefully, a reason to go a little crazy. It was their last night together—though she didn’t even want to think about that—so she intended to make it memorable for both of them.
First, she’d hit the premium outlet stores and find a dress and some sandals. Then, since there’d be no time to make it all the way home and back before eight, she’d take the risk of dropping in on Julian early and asking him if she could get ready in his suite. Hopefully he’d enjoy the surprise. If not, she’d die of humiliation, but the vibes she got from him on the golf course suggested that a little craziness on her part might be welcome.
As soon as she breezed through the door of her favorite store, she spotted perfection. Straight in front of her, a headless mannequin sported a breezy yellow dress with a wrapped bodice and spaghetti straps. A thick pink satin ribbon circled the high waist, ending in a floppy, soft bow in the back. The short, flirty skirt fell in soft pleats to inches above the knee. It was a sexy little frock that should stop any red-blooded male cold in his tracks. She shivered with anticipation, thinking of Julian’s hands lifting the skirt and—
“May I help you, miss?”
Torrey jerked around, blushing at the direction of her wayward thoughts. “Ah, yes,” she stuttered to the sales clerk. “I’d like to try on that dress.”
The clerk found her size and set her up in a fitting room. Torrey raced to pull the dress on and did a pirouette in front of the full-length mirror. The fabric hugged her curves as if it had been tailored for her, and the wrapped bodice showcased her thankfully generous breasts. Maybe, just maybe, she could actually compete with all those beautiful women Julian dated.
Fifteen minutes later she found the perfect shoes to complement the dress—strappy, high-heeled sandals that didn’t max out her credit limit. Her final purchase came on a last-minute impulse. As she passed a lingerie store, the lacy underwear drew her eye. Why not? She quickly found a wisp of pale yellow lace that would do nicely—as far as she was concerned, the skimpy, delicate panties were a whole lot sexier than a thong.
By the time she pulled into the Bellagio’s massive parking garage, her heart was hammering so violently she thought it might rip open her chest. Though she’d willed herself not to obsess about the OTE partners’ verdict, she didn’t have a clue what she’d do if Julian told her their answer was no. She wanted so badly for this to be the best night of her life. More importantly, to be the start of a whole new life.
And she couldn’t help worrying about surprising Julian by showing up at the door of his suite. Was she being an idiot? Way too forward? Maybe she should have called him first? What if she caught him in the middle of something? Doubts relentlessly pounded her all the way to the lobby elevators. She knew she was taking a risk, but it was long past time to push the doubts aside. If she couldn’t let it rip tonight of all nights, she never would. If there was ever a time for letting go of all the old fears that held her back, this was it.
After watching five or six cars open and close again, she finally stepped into an empty one, swiped the card Julian had given her, and punched the button for his floor. When she tapped on the heavy wooden door of the suite, her heart was still pounding so strongly she felt light-headed. Julian opened the door.
“Torrey!” His eyes trailed down from her face to her feet and back up again. Glancing at his watch, he said, “It’s only seven-thirty—I didn’t expect you until eight.”
All he had on was a pair of rumpled khaki shorts, slung low on his hips. The sight of all that bronzed, muscular flesh instantly dried up every drop of saliva in her mouth. But it was the sweet, goofy grin on his face that rocked her to the core. No way he’d be sporting that look if he was about to bring down the guillotine on her head. The guys must have said yes.
Every tight muscle in her body seemed to ease up at once, leaving her weak and trembling. She finally found her voice. “I’m sorry to barge in on you, Julian, but I had to go shopping.” She lifted her bags to show him. “I just ran out of time to go all the way home. Would you mind very much if I showered and changed here?”
He reached for her hand and pulled her into the room. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t leave you standing in the hall like that.” He closed the door behind them, then pulled her to him and gave her a searing kiss. She dropped the bags on the floor and laced her hands behind his neck.
Too soon, he broke the embrace. He looked regretful enough to make her giggle.
“Of course you can get ready here. I was just about to shower and change myself. But don’t you want your answer first? You must be going crazy.”
“Que sera, sera,” she said with an airy flick of the wrist. “I’m not worried about it.”
His eyes laughed at her. “Liar. The answer is yes, of course. A great, big, thoroughly deserved yes.” He pulled her to him and delivered such a passionate, hot-blooded kiss that her knees threatened to give out. Well, that and knowing she had finally landed her sponsorship.
“Thank God,” she whispered, abandoning all pretense. “And thank you, Julian Grant. You must be my guardian angel.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. She missed his warmth as soon as he let her go. “Now, about that shower. You can use the one in the bedroom on the right. I’ll use the one off my bedroom.”
“Okay. See you in a few minutes.”
Torrey kissed him again, this time a light touch on the lips. Kicking off her shoes, she picked up her purchases and found the second, smaller bedroom. She unfolded her pretty new dress, laying it flat on the king-size bed and checking for wrinkles and loose threads. Taking a deep breath to settle her jumpy nerves, she hurried to pull off her clothes, leaving them scattered on the floor as she tiptoed, naked, out of the bedroom. She peered around the corner of the living room toward the master bedroom, listening for the sound of the shower running. As soon as she heard the faint, thrumming sound, she scuttled through Julian’s bedroom to the bathroom.
Through the wide glass door she could see him in the steamy shower enclosure, his back turned to her as he lathered soap onto his chest. She didn’t want to make him jump out of his skin by sneaking up on him, so she waited, greedily absorbing the water-drenched view of his broad shoulders, strong back and his tight, well-shaped ass. Her heart jolted with a mix of excitement and nerves, and the breath caught in her throat. Never had she met a man who attracted her—no, captivated her—as much as Julian.
As soon as he turned, Torrey screwed up her courage, rushed across the room and slid open the glass door. Julian’s eyes rounded in surprise, but before he could speak, she threw her arms around him and stood on her toes to kiss him full on his hard, sensual mouth. His lips opened to her pressure, and she tangled her tongue with his. Letting out a guttural moan of pleasure, he planted his big hands on her bottom and pulled her hard against his groin. His cock, instantly erect, prodded her belly. His body, smooth and wet and slick against hers, sent waves of heat cascading through her limbs. She grew wet too, and not just from the water pounding down on them.
Breaking from the impassioned kiss, he came up for air. “You’re crazy, you know that?” he murmured. “But I love it.”
“I couldn’t wait ’til tonight to be with you,” she whispered, her nervousness re
turning now that she’d literally thrown herself at him. “I hope you want me as much as I do you.”
“Does this answer your question?” His right hand slid a path through the water streaming over her body and plunged between her thighs, honing in like a guided missile on her clit. Torrey sucked in her breath, her legs trembling, as he ran his thumb expertly over the already-sensitive nub of flesh. She clutched at his honed biceps, trying to control her excited, panting breath, afraid she would climax before they even got started.
After a minute or so of delicious torture, Julian moved lower, his fingers stroking her soft folds and dipping into the entrance of her body. She couldn’t hold back a small moan, shifting her feet and opening herself more fully to his probing touch. When he slid two fingers into her slick pussy, she felt as if her bones were liquefying under the combined heat of the steamy shower and his sensual play.
Desperate now to touch him in the same way, she reached between their bodies as he drove her wild with his fingers. Stroking the bulging head of his cock with her thumb, she trailed her other hand down to stroke his balls. As soon as her hand touched him there, he groaned and pushed against it.
“God, Torrey. You will drive me crazy. ”
A husky laugh snagged in her throat as she stepped away from him. She wanted him inside her, but she wanted to please him more—to show him how much he meant to her. How much she felt, even if she didn’t dare put it into words. She might never be able to tell him, or even fully admit it to herself, but she could at least show him her feelings in this moment.
Torrey lowered herself to her knees, barely registering the hard surface of the tiled floor of the shower as she trailed her hands over his chest, his stomach, and his thighs. The hard, sculpted lines of his athlete’s body, the slickness of his wet, soaped skin, the drenching stream of warm water that cascaded down her back—it all combined to heighten her awareness of him. Her own body came alive in response, throbbing with need as she stroked him.
Julian groaned and closed his eyes, leaning back against the marbled wall of the shower. Taking him in her hands, she slowly, delicately, ran her tongue in a lazy slide down the underside of his cock, from his balls to the tip. He tasted salty and clean, hard and smooth against her lips, His body tensed, arching with pleasure. She worked her tongue, circling the rim of the head, again and again, teasing him with the promise of taking him deep in her throat. Julian threaded his fingers through her tangled hair and caressed her drenched scalp, gently thrusting his pelvis forward as he sought the heat of her mouth.
