Ross thrust again and again. Kara lifted her hips to get every bit of him, to give him all of her. She felt her orgasm approach, sensed his in the quickening of his thrusts.
Once more and they were swept away on the wave, calling each other’s names. That sounded so right, she thought as she felt the sparks and stabs of utter pleasure. The orgasm seemed to go on forever, as if her spasms added to his and his to hers, making both bigger and longer.
Finally, finally, they shuddered to rest, panting, wearing sweat like a glove. Staying inside her, Ross rolled to the side, holding her tightly against him, something he’d never done before. Their fantasies hadn’t allowed for cuddling, or whispering things:
I love you. You make me so happy. I think of you every minute. I can’t stand
to be away from you.
So these were the things they said to each other as their breathing slowed and settled and their hearts stopped pounding.
Then they changed positions, spooning—her back to his front. After a few peaceful minutes of murmurs and squeezes, Kara felt Ross’s breathing deepen into sleep. She wanted to move, so they could both sleep more comfortably, but if she so much as twitched, Ross grabbed her against him hard. She smiled and snuggled in for the night.
This was the right thing to do. It had to be. How could she feel this good otherwise? This was different than with any other man. She felt connected to Ross. And Ross wanted it, too. That was what had been missing in all the other relationships—a matching love. This time it was real, not wishful thinking on her part.
What would they do now, though? Live together? Get married? That seemed impossible, but Ross had said they belonged together. What else could he mean?
Doubts lifted fingers of warning from where she’d submerged them—what if this was just the game intensified to a dangerous level? What if Ross is wrong for you?—but she absolutely would not spoil the moment. This was real and Ross was changing. He was about to get the new job, for one thing. That would ease her worries about his stability. Just a few adjustments and this would all work out fine.
She tugged Ross’s hand more firmly onto her breast. He squeezed gently, as if he were testing an avocado for ripeness rather than reassuring the woman he loved. So perfectly Ross.
He was supposed to be the sexual expert, but Kara had taught him things about sex he didn’t know he didn’t know.
Sex had always been fun, freeing, relaxing and healthy. But now he saw it could be the uniting of two souls, two people striving for a shared pleasure, glorying in this high moment of being human. Far from the French
la petite mort, the little death,
this was a declaration of
life.
Life in all its preciousness shared with the woman he loved.
He’d been going through the motions with other women. Everything changed with someone you truly cared about, someone whose feelings meant more than your own, whose pain was your agony, whose pleasure was your highest goal.
Jeez. He was getting carried away. Uncertainty tightened his gut. He had no track record with love. He’d loved Beth, after all, and look how that had ended—boredom for him and pain for her. But he hadn’t felt like this about Beth even at the beginning. Surely, this was different. This would last.
He pushed aside his doubts. He’d taken the plunge and he wasn’t backing out now. Kara was counting on him. They wouldn’t rush into anything irreversible. Like marriage. That made him break out in a sweat. Maybe, after a while, they’d try living together. There was a chance this could just run a natural course.
Take it one day at a time.
Right now he was up early, so he would make love to Kara, start their new life together right. He kissed the sweet spot on her neck, where he’d given her that hickey. He loved that—making her his own, giving her proof of his passion to look at all day at work.
“Mmm,” she said, turning lazily toward him, sliding against him, tangling her legs with his. Then she opened her eyes. Alert, she jerked to a sit. “What time is it?” Her gaze flew around the room.
He lifted his Roy Rogers clock and held it close to her face. “Early. Only seven. We have plenty of time.”
“Seven? Oh, no!” She leaped out of bed. “I’ve got to get going.”
“I thought we’d have some start-the-week-right nookie.”
“God, no. By now I should be done with yoga. I still have to shower, have breakfast and fix my lunch. Plus I have no clothes.” She was talking as she galloped around the room picking up underwear and her dress. They’d only gotten dressed once to hit a restaurant, then hurried back, ripping things off as they headed for bed.
Ross rolled to a sit, shaken by this early morning ruckus. He liked to kick off slowly from the sleep pool and gradually get his day legs under him. Kara was rattling the early morning molecules and it made his head hurt. “I’ve got Cap’n Crunch,” he managed. “Except the milk might be bad.”
“I don’t do sugar cereals. Thank you, anyway. I’ve gotta get home, Ross. I’ll see you at work.”
He looked at her from bed, scratching his head, feeling foggy. “What’s your hurry? Siegel and Sampson never show up until ten on Mondays.”
“I don’t care about them. I have work to do,” she said, clip-clopping on one shoe to his chair, then bending to look under it.
“On the weight bench.” He’d had to move it out from under him when he’d leaned back on the bench so she could get at him better from her position kneeling between his legs.
“Oh.” She stood bolt upright and stared at him, remembering.
Amazingly enough, sex without games was proving to be even hotter than the fantasy stuff. Maybe because they’d become vulnerable to each other emotionally as well as sexually. He was proud of himself for realizing that. Kara was teaching him things. Maybe he could teach her something, too. Something about how much better the day went when you started off with a breakfast boff. He crooked a finger at her.
She rushed to him and leaned down for a kiss. “I don’t want to go, Ross,” she moaned. “This has been so…so…”
“Repeatable,” he said. “Come here and I’ll show you,” he said, trying to pull her into the bed.
She stayed back. “I have to go. Tonight will be great, though.” Then she galloped out of his apartment before he even had a chance to suggest a personal day. She’d never fake a sick day. Not that he made a habit of it, but a mental health day now and then kept his creative juices flowing and made him feel less like a wage-slave.
He felt a flicker of distress at how weird it would be to live around Kara and her work style. They might be like twins in the sack, but they were opposites in the workplace—and life.
He used strawberry Quick in his Cap’n Crunch, since the milk was bad, took a quick shower and moseyed into work. First stop, Kara’s office. She was keyboarding like mad, the phone tucked at her ear, nodding her head at the caller’s words.
He caught her eye, blew her a kiss.
She looked queasy, then waved him away, as if he were distracting her from something important.
Lighten up,
he thought.
“Gabriel?” Uh-oh. Siegel. Not a good start to the week.
“Hey, Saul,” he said, turning.
“Step into my office, would you?”
“Now?” Ross thought back to see if he owed the man any work. Nothing that he could remember. In fact, Saul had seemed quite pleased with the extra stuff he’d done because Lancer was tanking it.
“Please,” Saul said, motioning toward his door.
He followed Siegel into his chichi digs—all black leather, expensive wood and original oils—and sat on the edge of a spongy glove-leather chair across from Saul’s desk.
Saul shut the door. Closed door meeting. Not good. Ross was not interested in overtime, not with Kara in his life and all those new sexual things to explore. Saul smiled at him. He definitely wanted something.
“So what’s up?” Ross asked.
“I thought we’d talk about Lancer’s job.”
“Excuse me?”
“I understand you’re interested.”
“Where did you get that idea?”
Saul leveled his gaze at him, as if he thought he was being coy. “Let’s just say a little bird told me.”
Kara. Had to be Kara. What the hell was she pulling here? “I like my job fine, Saul. I wouldn’t turn down a raise, of course, but everything else is copacetic.”
“Your résumé looks good, Ross. I’d forgotten you won those Plus One Advertising awards, and you handled the office well when Lancer had that little incident in Las Vegas.”
“What résumé?”
Siegel frowned, then opened a folder and pulled out a piece of paper, which he slid across the desk to him.
Businesslike formatting. Card stock paper. Definitely Kara’s work. “The little bird was misinformed. I don’t want the job.” He shoved the paper back across the desk.
“Don’t be modest. The starving artist routine gets old. Ambition is a good thing. Trust me on this.”
Ross just stared at him. “No, thanks.”
Saul stared back. “If you mean that, we’ve got a problem. I haven’t put out feelers or placed ads, figuring I’d promote from within—good for morale and all.”
“The problem’s yours, Saul, not mine.”
Siegel leaned closer across his desk. “I like you, Ross. You’ve got good ideas. I can see you’ve been getting more serious, not watching the clock or playing chicken with morning meetings, letting Kara cover for you.”
He flinched. He didn’t think the partners were wise to his bad habits.
“Maybe it’s time you looked to the future,” Saul continued. “Got some savings going. This means a definite salary boost. Full benefits. A real office. Nameplate and all.”
“I like my job, Saul, and I’m not interested in headaches. I’ve seen you with the Mylanta cocktail three times a day.”
Siegel looked annoyed. “I have acid reflux and I’d have it on a yacht in Bimini. It’s physiology, not stress.” He tapped Ross’s résumé. “The job’s yours anyway, at least until we can post the position. Lancer’s a cardboard cutout right now. There are some timing problems with the New Mirage tourism campaign and I need someone to step in before we start a downward service spiral.”
“You’re telling me I
have
to do the job? Against my will?”
“Calm down. This is an honor, not a punishment, my friend. We’re putting our faith and trust in you, our loyal, hardworking employee.” Siegel smirked. Ross liked his wit. If it weren’t a matter of principle, he’d probably laugh. Besides, it wasn’t Siegel he was angry at. It was Kara—the woman he loved. And that was definitely not good.
She’s just trying to help you.
But an ache in his gut told him it wasn’t that simple. Kara wanted to fix him. Like she’d been fixing his apartment. She’d made no secret of the fact that she wanted a man who was going places. Now that they were together, she was trying to jump-start him into a career—whether he liked it or not.
Next she’d attack his wardrobe. Instead of the surf shop where he bought thick cotton T-shirts and tough-wearing pants and shorts, she’d drag him to Macy’s men’s department with its endless racks of this season’s green, where the only way to distinguish one corporate soldier from the next were the designs on their jewel-toned ties. Before long, she’d have him signing up for a time-share in Aspen.
Kara, don’t do this to me.
He started down the hall to her office to confront her, but realized he should wait until he was calm enough to be gentle.
But then he got busy. Julie and Bob weren’t speaking, which was why the Stone Pony Mineral Baths account had two different logos. Instead of cooking up ideas for a logo for a skateboard club wanting to go national, he spent two hours finessing things between Julie and Bob, then talking to the account exec, even ending up on a conference call with the Stone Pony CEO, gritting his teeth the whole time.
He was still grouchy when he ran into Kara in the lunchroom.
“How’s it going?” she said sweetly, stars in her eyes.
“How do you think it’s going?” he snapped. “It started out with a meeting with Siegel, where, evidently somebody’s been playing fairy godmother.”
“You met with Saul?” she said. “How’d it go?”
“Why did you tell him I wanted that job?”
“You already do the job, so you might as well get the money and prestige that go with it.” She came close to him and touched his arm, but he pulled away. He would not be distracted by her touch.
“It’s a moot point now. Siegel strong-armed me into it until he can hire someone.”
“That’s wonderful,” she said. “I knew you could do it.”
“Aren’t you listening to me? I told him no. I don’t want the job. I never did.” And then he added fiercely, “Don’t try to change me, Kara.”
“I’m helping you get what you want.”
“What
you
want, you mean. If you really want a house in the suburbs and a membership in the country club, go after someone who’ll get that for you. Because it’s not me. Where the hell did you get the idea it was?”
“Why are you attacking me? I was just helping.”
They locked gazes. She was hurt. Not fair. He was the injured party here. “I’m just upset,” he said. “Forget it.”
“I understand,” she said shakily. “I guess I should have checked with you, but I didn’t want you to say no before you heard what Saul had to say.”
“It’s okay.” But it wasn’t and that familiar feeling rose in him—the desire to shake off the sticky webs of obligation, to break free, be himself, ready to take off if he needed to, with no one he could hurt or disappoint.