It had been a decade. He wasn’t a boy anymore, too proud to admit he’d been hurt. It rankled that he still cared, but
Crystal
had some explaining to do. He glanced at the business card again, taking note of the hours of operation. She wanted to run?
Fine.
This time he was going to chase her.
Chapter Two
Crystal sped away from the restaurant. Why hadn’t she put two and two together and inquired about the best man sometime in the last year of wedding planning? She still would have agreed to be Alisa’s maid of honor but it would have been nice to have some time to prepare for the shock of seeing Ryan again.
She pressed a hand over her lips, not sure if she was stifling a laugh or a sob. The dull throb in her head had spread to her breasts and sex, an unavoidable side effect of touching him. Where did he get off beaming all those lust memories at her? Completely unfair.
She parked in her driveway and grabbed her purse, hurrying out of the car. The street was silent. Most of her neighbors were elderly and had probably been in bed for hours. She unlocked her door and stepped inside, flicking on the light and tossing her keys and purse onto the hall table. She stooped to unzip first one boot, then the other, sighing as she stepped out of them. They were her favorite pair, but the four-inch heels were hell on her arches.
Once her feet stopped hurting, the ache between her thighs became impossible to ignore.
Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars
. She locked her front door and went upstairs, popping the hooks on her corset on the way. She tossed it on her dresser and shucked her skirt and panties to the floor, stepping out of them. She flopped on her bed and reached over to open her bedside table, fumbling until she got her hand on what she needed—her SoloPlay Screamer.
She settled back on her pillows and spread her legs, still clad in thigh-high black fishnet stockings. She turned the dial and rubbed the head of the vibrator against her wetness. The ache was unbearable. She thrust it deep inside her body.
This was physical, a pure bodily response she couldn’t control. It wasn’t personal. She closed her legs around the shaft of the vibrator to hold it inside her, moving her ass in short, sharp thrusts that brought the stimulators into contact with her clit and anus. She brought her hands up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples until they were red and tender. The harder she pinched, the faster her hips moved.
She reached between her thighs and grasped the base of the vibrator, moving it in and out of her body, chasing relief. She turned the dial higher and spread her legs farther apart, thrusting her hips toward the ceiling. Goddamn it, what was it going to take to make her come tonight? Unbidden, an image came to mind.
Mahogany eyes, warm, like bittersweet chocolate…
She screamed, riding the first orgasm to a second, longer series of contractions that left her gasping but still not satisfied. She reached between her thighs again and twisted the dial to its highest setting, pressing it deep inside her, making contact with all of her sensitive spots, holding her breath, tensing every muscle, desperate for release.
Crystal awoke to the sound of her alarm. She’d been dreaming of college, late for lecture but not knowing which building she was trying to find. The ringing of her alarm had been a school bell in her dream. She rolled over and slapped the snooze button.
Eight hours had passed so she must have slept, but the night was a complete whitewash. Horrifying images had played through her mind, a continuous loop of action, reaction and consequences she was powerless to change. She dreaded seeing Ryan again today, and her mind had made movie trailers of worst-case scenarios all night. Just the press of his hand last night had sent her fleeing from the room. How on earth was she going to withstand an entire day and evening in his company?
It was going to be doubly difficult to hold it together when she was bombarded with other random emotions all day. Standing at the front of the room was going to make her an excellent target for thoughts and feelings. Weddings and funerals were always hard to endure, but this one would be particularly rough because it was emotional for her too. There might be a few other girls in the room who had dated the groom, but she knew darn well she was the only one who had made love to the bride.
She crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom to turn on the curling iron. No way to go but forward. By God, she had an hour to get ready, and by the time she got downtown, her appearance would be wedding-worthy and her shield would be bulletproof.
She washed last night’s makeup off her face and braided her hair into a loose twist. Hallelujah, a good hair day. That was something, at least. A few curls here, a few curls there, and it was done. Out of deference to Alisa’s big day, she kept her makeup within normal limits, then packed up her cosmetic case.
It took her longer to load the car than it did to get ready because she needed everything for the wedding, an afternoon with clients and the wedding reception that evening. Apparently, the prestigious Norton Club could only accommodate small parties, so Alisa and Mark had planned an intimate late-morning wedding at the Club and a big blowout reception at a larger country club later in the evening. She imagined Alisa and Mark would spend the afternoon in naked celebration of their vows, but she was going to work. Finally, everything was packed. She made a quick stop at Tim Hortons before she hit the highway and drank her coffee on the way.
She pulled into the parking lot of the Norton Club with five minutes to spare. Seriously? The place had a parking lot attendant? She tried not to look wide-eyed as she approached the enormous front doors, lugging her makeup case, dress and shoes. The door swung open before she reached it and a uniformed man offered to carry her case. She gave him Alisa’s name and followed him into the fanciest elevator she had ever seen. They went up several floors. When the doors opened, he led her down the hall and knocked on a door.
“Thank you,” she murmured as it swung open. He smiled and placed her case inside the door, heading back toward the elevator.
“Thank God.” Alisa grabbed her hand and dragged her into the small bedroom. “I thought it was my mother.”
Crystal shut the door behind them. “How are you holding up, sweetie?”
Alisa’s china blue eyes filled with tears. “My parents are fighting.”
Crystal felt the pull of her misery. “Of course they are. That’s what they do. Did you think they would behave because it’s your wedding day? Silly girl.” She put her arms around Alisa, fitting her snugly under her chin. “Relax. I’m here to make your life easier. Repeat after me: no wedding is perfect.”
“What?” Alisa stiffened and pulled away from her.
“Nope, it’s true. There are going to be hiccups and fuck-ups, and if you resolve not to let it bother you, then you can relax and enjoy the day. What’s the alternative? Letting your parents’ marital problems ruin your wedding? At the end of the night, you’ll be married to Mark. That’s all that matters. Just think about that.”
Alisa smiled. She nodded once, then put her hands on Crystal’s shoulders and reached up to give her a warm kiss on the lips. There had been a time when that kiss would have held more heat, but those days were gone, ushered out by Crystal when she sensed Alisa was ready to find her Prince Charming. Being right about that kind of thing was hell on a girl’s love life.
A swift knock sounded on the door. “I’ve got this.” Crystal opened it and saw Bonita, her boss, friend and all-around lifeline, looking elegant in a vintage sundress.
Bonita swept into the room, carrying a six-pack of water and a large leather toy bag. “Good morning, ladies. How was the rehearsal dinner?”
Alisa gave her a hug. “Amazing. It was fun to see so many people from so many different parts of my life together in the same room. Meeting Mark’s college friends was fascinating too.”
Crystal hoped she wouldn’t mention anything about the best man, but she knew she would. She could feel it coming.
Alisa crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “I like Ryan, Crystal. Anything you’d like to tell me about him?”
A half-dozen things leapt to mind, but Crystal mashed them back into her repressed memory, where they belonged. Even that split second of thought made her pulse race. God, what was it about first love that made it so fucking vivid, so indelible, so impossible to forget?
Alisa waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Earth to Crystal. Mark says you hooked up with his best friend at a frat party. How come you never told me you went to college together?”
Crystal cleared her throat. “Ancient history. And we didn’t exactly go to college together. He was a senior and I was a freshman. I only ran into him a couple of times, and I was a different person back then. There’s a lot I would like to forget about those days, especially Ryan Anderson.”
“Is that why you headed for the hills as soon as you saw him?” Alisa asked.
“I was already heading for the hills,” Crystal reminded her. “I had a splitting headache.”
Alisa sat at the vanity in front of a large mirror. “You know Ryan’s the reason we could have our wedding here at the Norton Club, right? It’s members-only with very few exceptions, but Ryan’s great-great-grandfather was a charter member. Ryan is an absolute doll. Sure you don’t want to hear about what he’s been up to since college?”
“I’d much rather get to work turning you into a princess bride.” Crystal ignored her pout and set her makeup case on the bed. “Bonita, you want to do her hair while I explore this incredibly high-class establishment, spreading peace and joy in my wake? The parental units have gone rogue.”
Thankfully, Alisa let the subject drop. She was wrapped up in her own issues today, as she should be, as Crystal wanted her to be. Bonita nodded and began pulling hair-related items out of her bag, but interest sparkled in her green eyes, telling Crystal they would be discussing this topic later, even if Bonita had to dig the information out of her with her French-manicured nails or the jeweled clip in her perfect blond chignon.
Crystal stood. “I’m off to do what I do best then—eavesdrop on emotions and tell people what they need to hear to be happy.”
“Just like you are doing with me?” Alisa frowned in the mirror.
Crystal leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Exactly, sweetie. I told you I’d always be your friend, rain, shine or dysfunctional family. Because I love you.”
“I love you too.” Alisa sniffed.
Before Alisa could get truly weepy, Crystal teased, “Not half as much as you are going to love me when you get your wedding present. I sent it to your hotel in Hawaii. I think you’ll find it very stimulating. Mark hasn’t come up with anything quite this crazy yet, but I’m sure he’ll hit the drawing board when you get back home. Feel free to send naked pictures with the thank-you note.”
“Pervert.” Bonita pointed at the door. “Out.”
“Gimme a break, Bonita. You think we don’t know that leather bag is designed to hold dildos and butt plugs, not curling irons and hairspray?” Crystal rolled her eyes.
Her boss shrugged. “Function over form. Pockets are pockets.”
“Such a practical soul.” Crystal winked at Alisa. “I’ll be back in an hour to do your makeup. Any idea where your parents might have gone?”
“Find the bar,” Alisa suggested.
Crystal nodded. “An excellent idea.”
Ryan stopped in front of Come Again to read the sign on the door. The store would only be open in the early morning and late afternoon today. Were all the store employees going to the wedding too? With such limited hours, he wondered why the shop was open at all, but that question was answered when he walked inside. Sex sells. There were several shoppers already.
He nodded at the salesgirl, a petite brunette with dreadlocks, before he browsed toward the back. He had to be at the Norton Club in an hour, but it was just around the corner. Since he had showered at his hotel and his tux was in the rental car, he had plenty of time to check out a porn shop, but this was not what he had expected. There was none of the usual crap he associated with adult novelty stores—no tacky cards, no buttons, no pornographic candies. The first aisle he passed held at least a hundred different brands of lube and every battery under the sun. The next aisle was full of books and magazines. He paused to flip through the pages of one particularly eye-catching pictorial, tempted to sink into one of the cushy reading chairs to check out the accompanying article, but time was ticking. Reluctantly, he tucked the magazine back into place on the rack, making a mental note to buy some feathers.
A black leather sex swing caught his eye as he scanned the store for some sign of Crystal’s business, Get In Touch. He recognized the swing as a DoublePlay product, as were the inclined cushions and foam wedges scattered on the floor at his feet, and he was glad. Investing in Mark’s company, SoloPlay Enterprises, had been one of the best business decisions he’d ever made. He continued to the back of the store and found a wall covered with vibrators and dildos. Some toys were true to life—at least if you had a cock like a bull—while others ranged through every color of the rainbow. He searched the wall for SoloPlay and DoublePlay devices and discovered Come Again carried the entire line of products. No wonder Crystal was Alisa’s maid of honor. They’d probably bonded over batteries, God bless them.