On Location

by Sarah Echavarre Smith

  When I look back up at Drew, his jaw muscle bulges underneath the thick scruff blanketing his cheeks. “Asshole.”

  “Reid was definitely that, now that I look back on things.” Just the mention of his name after all these years turns the taste in my mouth sour. “But he was also charming and sweet. And I was sick of dating fuckboys my age. My twenty-two-year-old self thought that dating a guy in his forties was the answer. Little did I know then that forty-something men can be fuckboys too.”

  I take another long sip of my smoothie and give Drew a summary of my year dating Reid. How he never introduced me to his friends or family, how he never asked to meet my friends or parents. How he never planned a date in advance, always asking me out the day of. I didn’t realize at the time what a red flag that was—he only made time for me on nights when his wife was working late or out of town.

  How he never let me spend the night at his place, always paying for a taxi to take me back to my apartment.

  How I can remember vividly the three times he stood me up when I insisted that we plan a dinner date a few days in advance—and the lies he told me to cover his ass.

  “That’s why it hurt so much when you didn’t call me the day after we met,” I say softly. “I figured you were standing me up, just like he did.”

  “Alia . . .”

  I shake my head. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t. I just mean at the time, those were the feelings it brought up.”

  Drew leans forward and moves his arm like he wants to reach for me but places his hand on his leg instead.

  “Can I ask how it ended?”

  “Exactly how you’d think,” I say, annoyed at how defeated I sound. “We were at my apartment. He was in the shower, and his phone kept buzzing. I thought it was an emergency, so I looked at his screen. And that’s when I saw a slew of texts from his wife. I’ll never forget the very last message she sent before I dropped the phone in shock. ‘Are you with your little whore?’ ”

  Drew reaches across the table to scoop my hand in his. “God, Alia. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not fucking okay.”

  There’s a low-level anger in his voice that sends a flutter to my chest, like he’s upset that anyone would dare hurt me.

  “That guy was a piece of shit. He didn’t deserve you. And you’re not naive for what happened to you. You were vulnerable and trusting. Because why wouldn’t you be? That’s how you should be in a relationship. And he took advantage of it in the worst way.”

  The conviction in Drew’s voice as he speaks, the way he doesn’t dare blink as he holds my gaze—they’re both like a warm blanket wrapped around my heart.

  “That guy was a prick. He didn’t deserve a single second with you, Dunn.”

  “I told him as much when I confronted him as he came out of the shower. And then I threw his clothes and phone out of my bedroom window.”

  The corner of Drew’s mouth quirks up, and he gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s brutal. And exactly what he deserved.”

  I lean back in my chair, our hands still joined. “He fired me the next day at work.”

  “He what?”

  “ ‘Reassigned’ is probably the better word, but he got me removed from the show I was working on and put me on that Planet Earth spin-off where I ended up doing community service for that EP I told you about. I felt so used.”

  Drew gives my hand another squeeze.

  “I remember overhearing him on the phone right before I walked into his office the day he fired me. He must have been talking to someone who was in charge of the shoot he was reassigning me to. He was saying all these awful things about me. How I was this obsessed girl who developed this weird crush on him and wouldn’t stop pestering him to go out with me. How he needed to get me away from him as soon as possible and had to cash in on a favor to have the other series take me on. It was . . . humiliating.”

  I take a breath as that all-too-familiar wave of shame and heartache washes over me.

  “He sounded like a totally different person. I remember that so vividly. His voice on that phone call wasn’t the voice I knew, the voice I heard so many times telling me how beautiful I was and how much he loved my laugh. He spoke to me so sweetly before . . . but overhearing him on the phone, how hard and low and detached his tone was, it was like I was listening to a complete stranger. It killed me. And it made me realize that I didn’t know him at all . . . and yet I had been so intimate with him. That made my skin crawl.”

  I pause to take a drink. Drew’s eyes stay glued to me.

  “I thought I was smarter than that.”

  “Alia,” Drew says softly. He repeats my name when I don’t look at him right away. “You are smart. He was exactly what you said—a manipulative jerk. Everything that happened was his fault, not yours.”

  “You’re the only person other than Haley who knows about him. I was too humiliated to tell my other friends or even my family about what happened. I thought they’d be so ashamed of me, getting involved with a married guy and not even knowing it.”

  “Alia . . .”

  “You know what the worst part is?” I say, ignoring him. “After all he did, I was still heartbroken. I was actually sad to lose him. I cried for weeks after things ended between us.”

  “Alia, look at me,” Drew says calmly.

  When I finally meet his gaze, I go breathless. He looks like a warrior ready to rip apart anyone who crosses my path.

  “You have no reason to feel embarrassed or ashamed. What happened was his fault, not yours. You did nothing wrong. And crying over him is nothing to be embarrassed about. It shows how genuine your feelings were for him. He didn’t deserve it, but that’s not the point. You were in love and that selfish asshole broke your heart. Not one bit of it was your fault.”

  I let a small smile slip. “I know that now. It’s just . . . made me skittish when it comes to relationships and dating—especially a coworker. I tried to do a couple of serious relationships since then, but nothing ever stuck.”

  Drew winces for a half second before nodding. “I get it. Completely.”

  He lets go of my hand, and we share a quiet few moments where all we do is people watch.

  When I inhale, my chest feels looser. “Thanks for listening. And for all the sweet things you said.”

  “Of course, Dunn.”

  “So. Do you have any god-awful breakup stories you can share so I don’t feel totally alone?”

  Drew runs a hand through his hair. “I was engaged once.”

  “Oh. Crap, I didn’t mean . . . I was only half-serious—”

  “It’s okay,” Drew says, leaning forward and touching my hand once more. “I was in my twenties too. We were college sweethearts. We just weren’t right for each other. Yeah, the breakup sucked, but better than marrying someone who isn’t right for you.”

  “That’s why I don’t want to put any pressure on this, on us. I don’t have the greatest track record. I just want something fun and easy.”

  Drew nods once. “Same.”

  He pulls me by the hand to scoot closer to him. “You ready to get out of here?”

  The look in his eyes is positively hungry. All the tension from hashing out my failed relationship melts away when I focus on him. Instead I feel relaxed and comforted and content.

  “Absolutely.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Fifteen minutes later I’m in Drew’s hotel room, standing by the window.

  “You’re just a few doors down from me,” I say as I look out at the view of the parking lot. A wall of red rock rests behind the concrete, cutting into the indigo sky of early evening. “You have a better view, though.”

  Just then I feel the warmth from Drew’s body skimming mine as he walks up to stand behind me. His hands fall to my
waist, and his mouth presses against the side of my neck.

  “I think this is a better view,” he growls softly against my neck.

  My eyes close as I take in the sensation. The warmth from his lips and his breath. The firm press of his hands against my body. How I shiver with anticipation as he touches me.

  He gently drags his mouth along the back of my neck. I let out a soft, shaky gasp as he lightly nuzzles his face right where the base of my neck meets my shoulder. A yummy shiver runs through me.

  “Just say the word, Dunn.”

  I turn around to face him, cup his face in my hands, and kiss him until we’re both aching for air. “On the bed, Irons.”

  A wide grin crowds his face. We walk the two feet to the bed, and then I gently push him to sit on the edge of it. Leaning over, I pull his T-shirt over his head. Just like in the tent, I’m speechless at the expanse of lines and firm muscle that cover his torso and arms. But it’s even more glorious now because I get to see it in proper lighting. That patch of hair that runs from the center of his chiseled chest all the way down to below the waistline of his jeans makes me giddy with anticipation. I notice too that he’s got a slight smattering of freckles along his shoulders. I run my fingers along his right shoulder. He closes his eyes and hums.

  I place both hands on his shoulders, admiring their broad spread.

  He narrows an eye at me, the expression on his face playful. “Is that a subtle cue for me to lie down?”

  “Yup.”

  He winks up at me, and I smile. I start to push him to lie down on the bed, but he gently grabs my wrists with both of his hands, stopping me. He stays sitting up. “I thought of another rule,” he says, his eyes shining.

  “What’s that?”

  “Every time we’re together when the situation allows, I want you to be loud.” He lifts an eyebrow at me when I swallow.

  I bite back a grin. “That . . . won’t be a problem. I’m usually pretty loud. Like, I don’t even mean to be. It’s just natural. And a little embarrassing.”

  “Embarrassing?”

  “When I lived with roommates, it was their most common complaint about me.”

  “We’re a perfect match, then. I can’t stand quiet.”

  He reaches to my waist to unbutton my jeans as I shed my top. And then I’m standing there in the only set of semi-matching bra and panties I brought with me to Utah—a black jersey-material bra and black cotton panties.

  “I didn’t think I’d be doing this while I’m here,” I say, glancing at my bare feet. My face heats as I fiddle with my hands. “Otherwise I would have brought nicer . . . stuff.”

  Drew probably doesn’t care that I’m not decked out in high-end lingerie, but I can’t help but wish I had something a bit sexier to amp up this moment.

  When I glance up, he has an awestruck look on his face. It’s another couple of seconds of his hazel-brown eyes scanning my body until he makes eye contact with me again. “Are you joking?”

  “I just mean—”

  He grabs my hands in his. “Alia, you look incredible. Like, fucking incredible.”

  The way he speaks, it’s like he’s having a difficult time finding the right words to express just how much he likes seeing me nearly naked. It sends all the nerves and uncertainty inside me retreating.

  He reaches up to unhook my bra and drops it onto the pile of my clothes on the floor. Holding my hips with both hands, he leans up and presses the softest kiss to my stomach. My mouth falls open as I inhale sharply. He trails feather-soft kiss after feather-soft kiss farther down my body until he reaches the hemline of my panties, then stops.

  “Can I take these off?” he asks with his mouth against my skin.

  I run my hands through his hair and moan. “Yes.”

  A beat later my panties are on the floor. I step out of them, and his hands fall away from me as he leans back on his elbows on the bed.

  The smuggest grin I’ve ever seen fills his face. “Best view ever. Hands down.”

  He makes a come hither motion with his index finger, but I shake my head. “You need to be naked too.”

  He grins, then unzips his jeans. I lean over and help him slide out of them, leaving him in gray boxer briefs that perfectly highlight the generous bulge underneath. I slide those off and am once again appreciative of the excellent lighting in this hotel room. Now I can see Drew in his full, unobscured glory.

  I climb onto the bed and gently palm his length.

  He groans and leads me gently to rest over his face. My legs tremble on either side of his head, slightly shaky in anticipation.

  He cradles both hands around my thighs. “Do you know how unbelievably sexy you are?”

  The raw want in his tone shatters me.

  “You’re one to talk,” I say.

  He smiles, his cheeks blushing. Once I’m positioned over his face, I grip the headboard, close my eyes, and relax. Just like before, his expert tongue feels like heaven. He starts slow and soft, like he wants to tease me forever. Then his touch becomes firmer. The movements I make over him are small and slight. Drew is so, so good with the way he moves his head and his mouth and his tongue that I don’t have to do much. I simply glide along with him, the warmth and pressure building and building.

  My breath turns ragged as the minutes pass. My head falls back while both of my hands grip the headboard for balance. My head spins, the pleasure is so all-consuming. It hits everywhere inside me, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. As the sensations intensify, I grow desperate. My gasps turn to moans, then screams. I grind against Drew’s face like the world is ending. Everything inside me grows hotter and hotter until I finally burst.

  I come with a shout and a gasp, my thighs quivering. Drew doesn’t let up, though, not for a single second. He’s got me with his hands wrapped around both of my thighs. His tongue works like some sort of magical sex toy that never, ever loses steam.

  When it ends, I’m so shaky that I almost fall over, but he braces me with both of his arms, then slides me down his chest. I cuddle up against him, and he plants a soft kiss to the top of my head.

  Chest heaving as I catch my breath, I close my eyes. When I open them, my vision is blurry. I let out a giddy laugh as I glance up at him. It takes a few seconds before his grinning face comes into focus.

  “That’s the fastest and hardest that’s happened in . . . honestly, I can’t even remember.” I laugh into his hot, slick skin. “That was . . . So. Freaking. Good.”

  His smile turns sly as he maneuvers so that I’m lying with my back on the bed as his body hovers over mine. He kisses me for a long few seconds before sitting up and leaning over the side of his bed to pull his wallet out of his jeans pocket. He swipes a condom from it and rips open the packet with his teeth, then slides it on him.

  Then he turns that dangerously smug stare back to me. “Let’s not be too quick to judge. I’ve still got a lot to prove.”

  15

  The moment Drew slides inside me, I’m gasping. He thrusts slowly, steadily at first, bracing his arms above my head. He gazes down at me, his eyes bright with concentration as he breathes, then leans down to kiss me.

  “This feel okay?” he says, his rich voice like gravel.

  I press my head against the pillow, trying not to let my eyes roll too far to the back of my head so I can at least attempt to look at him. But I fail. It feels too good.

  “More than okay,” I whine. “So, so good.”

  A throaty laugh erupts from him.

  It’s no surprise that Drew feels good. He’s got the length and girth to satisfy. But this good? This is a very, very pleasant surprise.

  He also seems to have an astute ability to observe. Every time I make an affirming sound or my body reacts positively to something he does, he immediately keeps doing it. I’m trembling and making unholy noises as a result.
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  “So very loud.” He chuckles.

  I turn my head up to look at him, admiring the light sheen of sweat beading along his hairline, then laugh. I start to babble an apology, but he stops me.

  “No, no, no. Alia . . .” He laces his fingers in mine and positions my hands above my head, pressing them lightly against the bed. “I fucking love it.”

  His jaw tightens as he speeds up. Tingles shoot up from my chest all the way to my neck. My chest feels like it’s going to burst and my head is spinning. This is an astounding level of pleasure—a level of pleasure I’ve never, ever experienced during the first time with someone.

  And then Drew pauses, releases my hands, leans up, and pulls my legs tightly around his waist. When he hits a particularly deep and heavenly spot, my back arches, my mouth falls open, and I shout once more.

  Pressure and heat collide in my core, spreading through the rest of my body. I slip my hand between my legs and circle around my most sensitive spot to intensify the feeling. The backs of my fingers brush against Drew’s pelvis. His eyes go wide, and he slowly stills.

  I glance up at him while still rubbing myself. “Is something wrong?”

  He shakes his head. “No, it’s just . . . seeing you do that . . . to yourself . . . I’m gonna lose it.” He lets out a flustered chuckle. “I just, uh, need a minute.”

  I’m soaring on the inside. Because I’m driving Drew absolutely wild in this moment—so wild that he has to take a break and pace himself.

  He leans up, slipping out of me. The loss of sensation is a disappointment, but then his gaze zeros in on my bare chest. It’s like a fire is lit behind his eyes. He smirks, then lowers his head to my breast. His tongue, that nimble yet insanely strong tongue, runs over my nipple, then the other, causing me to lose all the breath in my body. He works me over for several minutes, sending tingles and jolts through my chest. I heave out a breath.

  Biting my lip, I lock eyes with him and slow the circles that my hand makes. A shiver shoots through me.

  “I really, really want you back inside of me,” I say.