by Jo Leigh
The doorbell rang. Ten seconds later she was in his arms. Kissing him as if they’d just discovered how. Between the two of them, they somehow managed to get her coat off.
“Sorry,” she said, pulling him down for another kiss. By the time they took a breather, about half their buttons and zippers were undone. Her hair thing was a casualty, and he stepped on her foot. Basically, they were going at it like animals.
And he couldn’t get enough.
When he couldn’t stand it another second, he grabbed two handfuls of her behind and lifted. She automatically put her legs around his waist, and he made damn good time carrying her to the bed.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, her lips red and pouty from all their kissing.
“Don’t care. Too many clothes.”
She yanked off her T and her cute white bra. He was already down to his boxer briefs but she caught up fast. For a moment, they just stared at each other. She seemed especially interested in his cock, which made him even harder.
Just as he was going to do something about the bedding, Sam took charge, ripping down the comforter as though it had done her wrong. Then she scooted onto the bed, jiggling in all the right places.
Taking full precautions, he put on a condom before he joined her. She straddled his waist and kissed him, leaning forward so that his head ended up on the pillow.
“Okay?” she asked, breathlessly.
“Anything you want.”
She kissed him again as she rode him slow and steady, rubbing her erect nipples on his chest, then leaning back and sinking all the way down. Jesus.
A few minutes later—maybe to stop from coming, maybe just because he liked being on top—he flipped them, landing her safely on her back. With her legs around him, he found the perfect angle and, by some miracle, held off coming until she climaxed so hard his head hit the headboard.
Before she’d had her second aftershock, he’d come as hard as he could remember ever coming.
It took him ten minutes to realize the walls were scattered with images of a train entering a tunnel, a champagne cork popping, fountains spurting, fireworks, even a volcano erupting. The sound track? Bow-chika-bow-wow straight from the ’70s.
It made him laugh so hard it hurt.
10
SOMEHOW SAM FOUND herself standing in front of a three-way mirror, Kensey on her right and a woman she didn’t know cupping her breasts from behind.
“You see how you’re held up beautifully with a perfect décolletage in this lovely demi bra. Depending on the dress, of course.”
Sam just nodded. It felt as if everyone in the exclusive bra-fitting store had seen and/or touched her boobs. She’d got so used to it she wasn’t even blushing anymore.
“We’ll want one demi, one strapless, one PrimaDonna,” Kensey said, gesturing as she spoke, “and we’d better throw in a couple of comfortable day sets, because honestly, Sam, where did you get the bra you’re wearing today? Goodwill?”
Sam tried not to glare at her friend. She was trying to help, after all. “Can we please try to focus on the task at hand?” Sam asked, reevaluating the joy of having a female friend. “I liked that pink one, the teal one, the black and the beige and also this one.”
“I think I know which ones you mean,” LeCiel, the gorgeous fitter, said. “Why don’t you keep that one on, since you know you want it, and give me a few minutes to get the rest together.”
“Great,” Kensey said, then turned to Sam. “Why don’t you put on your T and let’s step out for a moment. Not so many mirrors.”
“Only my T-shirt?”
“It’s long enough. Besides, there’s that big wall in the middle of the store. No one’s going to see you.”
“Besides the staff and customers?”
“They’re all used to women wearing much less. Besides, you look beautiful. I’d say just wear that to the party if we can’t find the right dress,” Kensey said and held the door open for her.
“You could have warned me that I’d be felt up.”
Kensey grinned. “These people are professionals. Their job is making you look beautiful, and I’d say they succeeded. Besides, you had a front-row seat while I met Logan for the first time wearing a towel.”
“You looked fantastic in that towel. I’m not you.”
“I’d tell you to put on your big-girl panties, but you were already wearing them. The ones you’ve got on now, though, they look sensational.”
What they were was small. Looking both ways to see if anyone else was around, Sam reluctantly stepped out of the dressing room.
The area behind the wall was as stunning as the rest of the shop. Sexy underwear was the only art on the walls, all colors, all kinds. It was unnerving, and Sam had to fight the urge to cover herself even though the T-shirt really wasn’t all that revealing.
“So, tell me more about Matt.”
For someone who’d flown in to Boston first thing this morning, Kensey looked unfairly relaxed and beautiful. Her blond hair rested on her shoulders, and she wore black skinny jeans with a perfectly starched white blouse. Together with her ballet flats, she looked very Audrey Hepburn. Sam admired Kensey’s style, which was why she’d turned to her for help in the first place. If Sam ever got it together to have a personal style, she’d want one like Kensey’s. “What else do you want to know?”
Kensey tsked. “Everything. I know he’s gorgeous, et cetera, but I want to know what it’s like seeing him after so long. I know you two hadn’t corresponded for quite a while.”
“He’s great. And we’ve been, you know, catching up.”
“Really?”
Sam shrugged. “We’re just friends.”
“So Logan said.” Kensey tilted her head to the side and studied Sam. “Somehow I got a different impression.”
Without saying a word, Sam let her know she was right with the heat filling her cheeks.
“I’m a blusher, too.” Kensey waved dismissively. “Lucky you, it just makes you more alluring.”
“Yeah. Alluring is exactly how I feel when I’m beet red.”
It didn’t take long for them to pick out seven everyday bras, all with matching panties. One was a thong, which went against Sam’s principles, but she had to admit she looked kind of sexy in it.
Then they were off to Neiman Marcus for more shopping torture.
“Come on, Sam. This shouldn’t be a burden. It’s a brand-new experience. Think of it as putting together a cosplay costume. Where you’re the strong, successful heroine that the hero needs to win. Buffy in a designer gown.”
Sam stopped suddenly, and a boy who’d been walking behind her ran into her. But he didn’t hit her nearly as hard as the realization that she was being a horrible person. “You’re right. I’ve done cosplay and I enjoy it. Thanks, and I’m sorry.”
“Stop it,” Kensey said, taking her hand. “I just want you to have more fun.”
“You flew all the way from New York and all I’ve been doing is complaining.”
“It wasn’t a hardship. I wanted to be here. Come on. I still have a hundred questions about you and Matt.”
“Oh, good, my second-favorite part of the day.”
Kensey slowed. “I thought this was what girlfriends were supposed to do.”
“Supposed to?” Sam said, and then she remembered Kensey’s difficult past. Her nontraditional upbringing had left her on shaky ground, but you’d never guess by looking at her. “I’m not good at this, either,” Sam admitted. “But I want to be. Although I’m not really comfortable talking about sex.”
Kensey’s lips curved in a patient smile. “So tell me something else about Matt and you.”
“All right. I slept with him the night I turned sixteen.”
Kensey burst out laughing, then immediat
ely sobered up, her eyes as big as silver dollars. “Uh...”
Sam laughed and pulled her friend into the high-end department store, where they headed to the escalator to go to the third floor. “Nothing happened. Trust me. Except...and you have to promise not to tell Logan, okay?”
“You bet. Not a word. Except what?”
“He kissed me,” Sam said, remembering the thrill of that night. “It was my first.”
“Oh, wow. Then this—”
“This,” Sam said, “is a hookup. Nothing more. Well, we’re friends, so it matters, but a hookup is all it is. I’m sure the way I feel about him has way more to do with my teen crush than the man he is now.”
They arrived at the women’s couture section. “We’re going to find you a dress,” Kensey said. “Then we’re going to break for a quick bite and you’re going to tell me everything. Got it?”
“Not everything.”
“I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”
“I know.” They both laughed. It was kind of crazy, the two of them trying to navigate a friendship like a pair of teenagers. “That sounds good— Hold on.” A color caught Sam’s eye.
She wasn’t sure what designer the dress was by but the color, though... She steered Kensey toward the gown. It was a brilliant teal, strapless with a tight ribboned bodice, crystal embroidery over the waist and a chiffon skirt. “I want to try this one.”
Like magic, someone from the store was walking toward them that very minute.
“It will look amazing with your hair,” the smartly dressed sales associate said. “You’re a size zero?”
“Two, unless they run big, which I can’t imagine.”
“I’ll bring it to you in the fitting room, along with a few others by the same designer.”
She led them to a mirrored suite. Before she left to gather the gowns, Kensey said, “My friend is going to the Wilkinson Gala tonight. She needs shoes, nails, makeup and hair all by what...?”
“Six-ish?”
“Six-ish,” Kensey said, taking over, much to Sam’s delight. “I’m from New York. She doesn’t shop. So, can you help?”
The woman—Taylor, according to the tag on her blazer—was looking at them as if they’d just arrived from another planet. “The gala is tonight.”
“Yes—hard to believe but true.” Kensey held on to a smile. “Can you help us?”
“Yes, of course,” the woman said, but she was clearly rattled, which didn’t help Sam’s nerves at all. “What’s your shoe size?”
“Eight narrow,” Sam said. “And not too high, because I’ll fall down.”
Taylor seemed at a bit of a loss. She blinked at Sam and then smiled. “Yes, of course, not too high. Perhaps I should alert the tailor, as well. Also, the salon here is quite nice, but if you have a favorite—”
“The salon here sounds perfect.” Sam liked the idea of not having to go anywhere else.
“Wonderful,” Taylor said. “I can set up an appointment for you after we’re done here, if that suits you?” Sam nodded. “I’ll just go find those gowns for you now.” And with that, Sam’s fairy godmother was off, leaving her and Kensey alone in the giant dressing room.
“I’m never going to be ready in time,” Sam moaned, shaking her head.
“Yes, you will. We’re already halfway there.”
“You’re not very good at math, are you?”
Kensey laughed. “Okay,” she said, sitting on a cushioned bench. “While you undress, tell me three words that describe Matt when you were in college together.”
“Easy,” she said, once again taking off her blue button-down. “Smart, funny and, um, honorable.”
Kensey opened her mouth, but Sam cut her off. “Wait. Kind. I should have said kind. And sincere.” She unbuttoned her Levi’s 501s but didn’t push them down. “He was honest as could be. I don’t have to say handsome, because, well... But he was a gentleman, even when he was drunk. Also a scholar. You know he was the editor of the Harvard Law Review when he was in his second year of law school? That’s more than three words,” Sam said. “But he was patient, too. And generous.”
“So, Prince Charming?”
“Oh, he could also be a dick. Wasn’t a good loser at all. But maybe that was because we mostly played computer games when we were together and I tended to win every time.”
“Glad to hear he’s human.” Kensey smiled. “To tell you the truth, I was sold on Matt the minute Logan told me about him covering the rent so you guys could keep the house you lived in back in college.”
Sam frowned. She had no idea what Kensey was talking about.
“I mean, come on. How many twenty-year-old guys would think of doing something that generous? You need to add ‘thoughtful’ to that list.”
Sam was totally confused. She and the guys had shared a house their junior and senior years. Well, minus Logan. The army had stolen him away the summer before his last year at MIT. “I honestly don’t know what you mean.”
It was Kensey’s turn to frown. “Huh. Maybe Logan was the only one who knew about it at the time.” She sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter at this point, but I’d prefer you didn’t mention to Logan that I told you.”
“I don’t get it,” Sam said.
“Logan’s and Matt’s names were on the lease. After Logan left for the army, in order for all of you to stay in the house, Matt made up Logan’s share of the rent. Otherwise you and Rick wouldn’t have been able to afford to live there. But Matt didn’t want you guys to know.”
For a genius, Sam was pretty stupid. She should have figured out that someone had helped subsidize her share of the rent all those years ago. Well, she was never going to make fun of anyone else’s math again. “I didn’t know...”
“Of course you didn’t.” Kensey’s lips lifted in a wry smile. “Not until I opened my big mouth.”
“I won’t say anything to Logan or Matt.”
“Thank you. Although, I’m sure I’ll end up confessing to Logan myself. We’re both working at not keeping secrets from each other.” She didn’t have to say more. Sam understood that Kensey had been shrouded in mystery most of her life and was trying to overcome that. “I was going to ask you to tell me three words to describe the Matt you know now, but I guess I don’t have to...”
Sam stilled. Opened her mouth and then shut it. She smiled and slowly shook her head. She’d always thought Matt was an amazing person. What she’d learned a minute ago was just more proof.
“Look,” Kensey said, her voice serious, “I’m just saying, try to keep an open mind. Don’t rule him out yet. And maybe don’t label this reunion as just anything. Lots can happen in a short time. Trust me. I held myself back from Logan, believing, beyond a doubt, that we could never be together. I almost lost him. If I had, it would have been the biggest mistake of my life.”
Sam took in what Kensey said, but before they could talk more, the teal dress arrived. Along with four other stunning gowns. “Oh, for God’s sake, all the gowns I love don’t even need bras,” Sam exclaimed.
From that moment on, it was all Pretty Woman for the rest of the afternoon. All the fussing and attention almost made Sam forget where she was going that night.
But not whom she was going with.
* * *
MATT GOT SETTLED in the back of the hotel limo. It had come with a bottle of champagne but also the scotch he preferred. The advantage of being a Wilkinson. He didn’t like playing the family card, but he’d planned on going to the gala solo, in a cab, and that wouldn’t do for Sam.
It was amazing that she’d agreed to this. He’d thought about letting her off the hook, but then he found out that Kensey was flying in, and he figured he’d leave it be. It might just have been selfishness on his part, but the idea of Sam sitting next to him at yet another party full of
rich people who wanted to network made him very happy.
The last sip of Glenfiddich went down as smoothly as the first, the hint of cinnamon blossoming in his chest. He’d poured only a small glass of the stuff. It was more important to share a glass of champagne with Sam.
She’d called him at a little after five to ask him to pick her up at the lab. They were almost there. Damn if his pulse didn’t speed up, and it definitely wasn’t because of the single malt.
The limo pulled up in front of Sam’s building, and the chauffeur started to get out of the car. “Bill, I’ll just get out, but I think my friend would like it if you opened the door for her.”
His chauffeur nodded respectfully. “Sure thing, Mr. Wilkinson.”
The path to the doorway looked very different at night. He knew the lights were all about security, but they were artfully placed. When he rang the bell, he took a couple of steps back, wanting to get the full impression of Sam all dressed up.
He was unprepared.
She looked like a 1940s movie star, her red hair parted on one side, cascading in lush curls past her shoulder. The dress was something else. Pure white and covered with crystals or sequins on top but with a slit down the center that showcased her perfect pale skin and just a hint of the breasts he knew very well.
The bottom was all silky and sheer, really sheer. He could see her thighs, those fantastic legs, but the whole package was elegant as hell.
“You’re a showstopper,” he said, trying hard not to just let his jaw drop and stare. “You look so beautiful.”
She turned around, and the back view was just as arresting. When she faced him again, it was with her familiar blush. “You think I’ll fit in?”
“No way,” he said, moving in to steal a kiss. “You’ll be the most stunning woman in the room.”
“Right,” she said. “I’m a lot of things, but the belle of the ball isn’t one of them.”
He pulled her close. “You are to me,” he said, then kissed her fresh pink lips.
