Champagne Cravings (20 page)

“At least I won’t have to worry about passing a newsstand
and
not
seeing my picture on the cover of a magazine. Even if it’s just
the tabloids, that’s better than nothing.”

I gave her a quick hug. “You really are fearless. You have
nothing to worry about—go kick some media ass.”

“Let’s get together soon, okay? Promise?” She gave me a
meaningful look that spoke volumes of our solid friendship. “Tell the
super-hunk sorry, but he has to share you.”

“Hopefully, he’ll mind.”

“
You
have nothing to worry about when it comes to
him. Call me,” she said before straightening the hem of the suit jacket and
squaring her shoulders. She opened the door and sauntered into the office in my
red stilettos as though hell-bent on world domination. I wouldn’t be surprised
if it was on her to do list.

Leaving the executive wing of Elan Essentials, I took the
elevator to the lab. All levity vanished and my stomach clenched as I swiped my
badge, not entirely sure it would still work, but apparently, Cal hadn’t
deactivated my card yet.

I walked into the lab and found Olivia in her glass-enclosed
office. She sat at her desk, staring at paperwork laid out on the leather
blotter.

“Knock, knock,” I said, because the door was propped open.

Her head snapped up at the sound of my voice. “This really
is supposed to be a restricted area.”

I smiled congenially. Perhaps even a bit contritely. “I
understand. This will be my last visit. May I come in?”

She regarded me a moment, a flicker of darkness in her hazel
eyes, as though I were the Grim Reaper. Finally, she sat back in her chair and
said, “If you’ll be brief. I have a lot of work to catch up on.”

“I’m glad you came into the office today. I’m sure it wasn’t
easy.” I slid into the chair in front of her desk and crossed my legs. “Not
when someone has wrongly accused you of doing a dastardly professional deed
because of a personal slight.”

Olivia removed her trendy frames and set the glasses on top
of the papers she’d been reading.

“I spoke with Mav,” she said. “He told me he never believed
I’d do something so underhanded. He was sure there was another explanation and
you’d uncover it. He has a lot of faith in you.”

“Apparently in you too. So do many others. Cal Stoddard was
ripped to shreds over my incorrect assumption.”

“Cal?” She looked taken aback. But there was a sparkle in
her eyes that chased out the dread. I didn’t miss it. “He never even comes to
the lab.”

“He’s a big fan, regardless. And he holed up in his office
with me for hours and hours, determined to find the real culprit. Knowing in
his heart it wasn’t you.”

I let her digest this for a moment. Cal was a very nice
alternative to Mav and just as stylish and professional as Olivia. So
naturally, I couldn’t keep from planting the seed.

But matchmaking wasn’t the real reason for my visit. I said,
“Look, in my line of business, I have to consider the easy leads as much as the
impossible-to-swallow ones. For me, because I didn’t know you, you were an easy
lead. I knew about your relationship with Mav and that it had ended badly. For
everyone else, my suspicion was impossible to swallow. It doesn’t always work
out that way, but for what it’s worth, I hope you know you have a lot of
friends and staunch supporters here at Elan.” With a short laugh, I added, “I
feared I might take a blow for even mentioning your name in relation to the
scandal.”

She remained quiet as she processed all of this. I took the
opportunity to add, “I realize this doesn’t hold much weight, given the sting
of my accusation, but I truly am sorry for the trouble this caused you. I—”

“No,” she suddenly said, and my stomach plummeted. I steeled
myself for her to rant at me, but she surprised me instead by saying, “I
understand my actions on Monday could easily be misconstrued. Especially when I
wouldn’t answer your questions without legal counsel present.”

She pushed her chair away from her desk and stood. As she
paced along the back wall, she continued. “The fact is, I would never do
anything to hurt Mav or Elan. This place is my lifeblood. I’ve worked here for
thirty years and will work here another thirty years if they’ll allow me to mix
chemicals when I’m eighty.”

I laughed softly. “That’s serious dedication. I’ll be on a
beach somewhere when I’m eighty.”

“I love what I do,” she told me with conviction in her eyes.
“And, yes, I loved Mav. That’s why your questioning was so invasive and
terrifying for me.” She inhaled deeply and let it out as though it were a
cleansing breath. Then she continued. “You see, the truth is, when he first
broke it off with me, I really did want to hurt him. It was a scary,
overwhelming feeling that ranged from wanting to kick him between the legs and
wanting to blow up this lab to derail all of his projects and destroy all his
trade secrets so he’d have to start from scratch. With someone new.”

Ah. That’s where all that guilt had stemmed from. “It’s a
shitty feeling, isn’t it?” I asked in a low, nonthreatening tone. “To feel used
and be so angry with another person, you fear you’ll go to the extreme for
revenge—and in hopes of assuaging your own embarrassment and pain.”

She drew up short and our gazes met. Indeed, Olivia Benedict
was another kindred spirit from Heartbreak Lane.

“Yes,” she admitted in a shaky voice. “It is. Everything you
said is true. Because those feelings are so powerful and yet… So vicious and
wrong. You can’t make someone love you back. I know that. But I was completely
irrational when it came to Mav. I chose to ignore all the signs. He was good to
me. He told me upfront he was still struggling with his wife leaving him.
I
coaxed
him
into the relationship. I believed it was more than it was,
despite the fact he was honest about caring for me, but not being in love with
me.”

“Doesn’t make it any less painful.”

With a shake of her head, she said, “Not at all. In fact,
sometimes it’s worse, because you’ve put yourself out there when you knew you’d
get very little in return. A diamond tennis bracelet only goes so far, you
know?”

So I’d been right. I said, “At least he didn’t screw two
women at the same time in the coatroom at your friend’s wedding reception.”

She gasped. “Please tell me that’s hypothetical.”

“Nope.”

I felt I owed her a little dirty tidbit related to me, so
she wouldn’t feel quite so vulnerable about the humbling position she’d held
since the moment I’d met her.

Plopping into her chair, she said, “I’m so sorry. That would
definitely cut deep.”

“It did. At the time. But now…” I suddenly realized how
thoroughly over Chase and Brandon I was. And how I couldn’t wait to see Mike
tonight. “The thing is, sometimes you think it’s love. But deep down, you kind
of know it’s not. You hope you can turn it into love, yet you might be the only
one rowing that boat.”

“And sometimes, you send it over the tallest waterfall.” She
sighed. “I don’t hate him. And I don’t want to hurt his company. I want to be
over him.”

“There are ways to make that happen.” I didn’t bother
mentioning Cal Stoddard again. I could see her mind already churned with
possibilities she hadn’t considered before. “Anyway, I am very sorry for how
difficult this has been the past couple of days. And I’m glad I got the chance
to know you better, Olivia. You’re just as lovely as everyone insists.”

I rose and so did she. We shook hands and she said, “Thanks
for helping Elan. It’s a huge relief for all of us to know we still have jobs
to come to in the morning.”

“I have a feeling business will thrive from this new product
launch. Biel made quite a splash without making one at all.”

A forlorn look flickered across Olivia’s face and I
suspected she’d already heard the news about Mav and Biel. Though that latter
affair had occurred after Mav had broken it off with Olivia, I could empathize
with her. If you were still reeling with heartbreak, the last thing you’d want
to learn is that your ex-lover had hooked up with a supermodel.

“Well,” I said, forcing a cheerful note in my voice, “I’ve
taken up plenty of your time. I’ll see myself out.”

“I hope you’ll stop by from time to time, Lacey.” She gave
me a friendly smile. I didn’t even have to ask her to use my first name.
Kindred spirits, indeed. Seemed I was collecting a lot of new acquaintances
who’d ridden the Lonesome Train—and wanted to get off it.

“I will,” I promised her. “Under much better circumstances.”

I left the lab and made one more stop—Cal Stoddard’s office.
Though I wouldn’t till the soil with him and Olivia, I did tell him, “I’m glad
you were right about Olivia. I’m sorry if I tainted her reputation in anyone’s
mind.”

“You had to go there,” he admitted. “It was a logical path
to take. No one blames you for that, Lacey. As a matter of fact, I respect that
you refused to leave any stones unturned. No matter whose toes you stepped on.
Your diligence was what solved this case.”

“I do have a persistent side,” I said with a laugh.
“Sometimes to my own detriment, but if it gets the job done…”

We shook hands and parted ways, but not before making a
lunch date for the following week. Cal agreed to give me more training with
video surveillance.

All in all, not a bad day. But I still had one more broken
fence to mend…

Lust—I’ve Lost Track of the Points.

Love—Give Me Time, People. Just Give Me Time.

I left Elan and caught a cab on Madison Avenue. But I didn’t
return to my apartment. I popped into Barneys for a little wardrobe update, particularly
from the lingerie department. Armed with as much sexy apparel as my threshold
for such things could withstand, I went home, showered and shaved—not having
much need for waxing in my life.

Then I selected a cowl-neck chemise in a pastel, floral pattern,
the front dipping so low it not only revealed the inner swells of my breasts,
but the concaved line below them that disappeared behind the satiny material as
it reach my upper belly. The cowl-neck was drapey, but the remainder of the
garment was skintight, with the hem just barely covering the lavender satin
G-string I wore, in the same hue mixed with the pale green and gold print on
the chemise. Biel would be so proud I’d become this adventuresome.

I covered it all up with a lavender robe, hoping I was a
package Mike would relish unwrapping. I added thigh-high stockings in white
that had a wide lace band at the top to hold them in place. After sliding my
feet into the delicate slippers I’d bought, in white with a four-inch heel, I
carefully made my way to the living room. Wobbling a little, I hoped like hell
I wouldn’t be in the shoes for long.

My nerves were a bit frayed as I waited for Mike to knock on
my door. Despite my favorite crime shows headlining the tube this evening, I
didn’t turn the TV on. Instead, I put a jazz CD into the player and lit some
candles around the living room, then dimmed the lights.

Yes, it occurred to me I might have been presumptuous in my
seduction efforts. But that kiss Mike had given me this morning—and the fact
that he’d immediately come to my apartment after dropping off his bags and
reading my letter—spurred me on.

I’d spent the past week caught up in other people’s
emotional shootouts, but I’d learned a lot from their drama. I’d suffered
through their pain and mortification right along with them. I’d also found a
degree of eroticism in those scandalous affairs, which had left me with the
realization that I actually was a very sexual person, despite my three years of
celibacy.

Above all else, however, I’d learned that my repressed wants
and desires were all commanded by one man.
The
man. The one who knew my
body better than anyone else. The one who knew my mind better than anyone else.
The one who owned my heart and soul.

His knuckles rapped on my front door moments later.

Adrenaline shot through me and my clit tingled with
excitement. Something in the pit of my stomach told me I was on the right track
with Mike Lucas and that calmed my nerves. I miraculously made it to the foyer
without incident in my skinny heels. I stopped before I reached the door and
lit two more candles on the entryway table, then turned the light off. I worked
the deadbolts and tugged on the handle, exhilaration coursing rampantly through
me like never before.

Mike’s brow instantly lifted as I filled the doorway and
flashed him what I hoped was an inviting smile.

“Hi,” I said.

He swallowed. “Uh, yeah. Hey, there, Lace.”

Propping a forearm against the doorframe, as he was prone to
do, he took me in from head to toe and back up. Slowly. When his gaze finally
met mine, he added, “Jesus. How big of a bouquet will I have to send Biel?”

I giggled. “This time, she didn’t prompt me. I was in the
mood for something different.”

He dropped his arm and leaned in close. “You’re talking
about your clothes, right? Not your man?”

My toes curled in the slippers. “I’m sure you already know
the answer to that.” He’d seen the photos and read my letter, after all.

With a contemplative look, he said, “I’m not letting you
take anything back.”

His thoughts had obviously run the same direction as mine.

“I have no intention of retracting
anything
I wrote.”
I sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly and finally jumped off the cliff
with him. “I’m very much in love with you, Mike Lucas.”

He grinned. Then he kissed me. Sweetly, softly. It made my
heart go pitter-patter, but still lit my insides. “Just remember who said it
first, babe.”

As he came into the foyer and I shut and locked the door
behind him, I asked, “So you’re not taking anything back either?”

He shot me a look over his shoulder. “I told you it wasn’t
the sex that made me say what I did.”

“Just checking.” My cunt clenched at the mere mention of how
intimate we’d gotten Sunday night. “So we’re really doing this?”

He grinned again. “Didn’t we agree to that after the movie?”

“Yes, but… Things got weird after that. You didn’t stick to
the lovemaking theory altogether, you know?”

“No, I did not.”

He walked into the living room and laid out our boxes of
Chinese food. I went for the wine, giving him a few minutes to compose his
thoughts so he could tell me what I needed to hear about that night.

I set the bottle of merlot on the coffee table and curled up
next to him on the sofa, not yet touching the food. I asked, “Tell me what
changed from the first time we made love Sunday night to the second time.”

He drew in a deep sip of the burgundy-colored liquid and
then rested his forearms on his thighs, his hands between his legs as he
continued to hold the glass.

When he seemed to have his thoughts sorted out, he glanced
over at me and said, “I’ve wanted you for a long time, that’s no secret. But I
didn’t realize
how
much I wanted you until I was making love to you. And
then I realized that wanting you wasn’t just a physical desire with some
emotion around it. The truth is, Lacey, despite how phenomenal it feels to be
inside you, that actually dulls in comparison to how phenomenal it feels to be
in
love
with you.”

Tears instantly sprang to my eyes. I couldn’t imagine anyone
saying something more poignant to me.

Continuing, he told me, “It was a bit overwhelming. And,
like I said the other night, I tried to tamp down some of those feelings. I
tried to stay in control of them by not being so intimate with you. But I know
now that’s impossible. We’ve both reached the same conclusion. It doesn’t
matter how we have sex. It
is
going to be explosive between us.
And
intimate. It’s innate because of the way we feel about each other and the way
we respond to each other.”

He paused, took another sip, then added, “I just wish it’d
been perfect that night.”

As fat drops rolled down my flushed cheeks, I said, “That
night
was
perfect. Regardless of the hiccups, it was perfect, Mike.”

He gave me a funny look that made me laugh. I swiped at my
tears and explained, “It was very moving, extremely powerful. It was also a
catalyst. I found it more difficult to write that letter to you
after
you’d left on a sour note than if you’d stayed and everything had been
hunky-dory between us. If we hadn’t suffered the emotional conflict, I probably
would have kept things status quo as long as possible. Even though I knew I had
all these feelings inside that were dying to be let out and which mirrored your
own emotions, I would have kept them bottled up if I hadn’t felt an urgent need
to express them.”

I let out a long sigh as I owned up to all of this, allowing
him to as well. Finally, I said, “I don’t want be that person, Mike. I don’t
want to keep playing it safe when it comes to you. I want to be open and honest
and…
fearless
.”

His ocean-blue eyes crinkled around the edges as one corner
of his mouth lifted. “You never fail to amaze me, babe.” He leaned toward me
and planted a stellar kiss on me. Then he whispered, “I’m convinced we’re meant
for each other.”

I took the wineglass from him and placed it on the coffee
table. With his hand in mine, I stood, tugging gently so he’d join me.

I said, “You know the best part about Chinese takeout?”

His grin widened, clearly knowing what was on my mind.
“What’s that?”

“It’s just as good heated up if you don’t get to it right
away.”

Pulling me into his tight embrace, he kissed me passionately
again. When we came up for air, he said, “See? You’re not predictable at all.”

Another scorching-hot kiss had me melting in my slippers. I
honestly could not think of anything other than the two of us. The rest of the
world—including my favorite TV shows and duck Peking—ceased to exist.

Dragging my mouth from his, I said, “Make love to me. Any
way you want.”

He released me and I led him into the bedroom. We’d barely
crossed the threshold when he reached for me once more. He pulled the sash at
my waist, untangling the bow. The robe fell open and he sucked in a sharp
breath. I stepped away from him in order to light a few more candles. I felt
his gaze on me as I moved about the room.

Satisfied with the ambience—I didn’t bother with music
because it’d started to rain and the drops pelted the windows, creating a
seductive backdrop with the candles—I slipped out of the robe.

Mike swallowed hard as he took in my chemise, with the thin
straps on my shoulders, the plunging neckline and back, and the ultra-short
hem. Heat lit his eyes as they roved my body from head to toe, indicating he
liked the stockings and heels as well.

As he yanked his black T-shirt from the waist of his Levi’s,
he closed in on me. He pulled the shirt over his head and let it drop to the
floor. I marveled at his perfectly sculpted torso, realizing I had desperately
missed looking at him—and touching him—the past couple nights.

“Hercules called while you were away,” I said in a sultry,
flirty voice. “Said he wanted his body back.”

“Oh yeah?”

I grinned, then said, “I hung up on him.”

Mike chuckled. “And what about the lingerie model who wants
her
body back?”

A prickle of excitement against my clit made my tone
breathless as I teased, “Like what you see, bad boy?”

He groaned, low and deep. Igniting a fire inside me. “Do I
ever. Tell me you brought home shopping bags full of stuff like this.”

“As a matter of fact…” I wagged my brows suggestively. He
reached for me and hauled me up against his hunky body.

“You make me hard and I haven’t even touched you,” he said
in a gruff voice.

Sparks shot out in all directions within me, prickling all
my sensitive spots. Making me hot and restless and in desperate need of him.
Only
him.

“Well, who’s stopping you?”

With desire and much deeper emotions flashing in his eyes
and stamped across his face, he moved us backward until the undersides of my
knees brushed the edge of the mattress. He eased me down to the bed, sprawling
on top of me, settling between my parted legs. I loved the feeling of his
weight on me, but more than that, I found I yearned for the closeness we
shared, physically as well as emotionally.

He kissed me lustily as his large hand swept under the hem
of the chemise that pulled tight against my upper thighs. Palming an ass cheek,
he gave it a slightly rough squeeze that jolted me in a deliciously wicked way.

As our upper bodies pressed together and our legs tangled,
his fingers on my backside slipped behind the thin string of my panties and brushed
the cleft, from the rim of my anus to my swollen labia and back. Making me
ridiculously wet as he continued.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and plowed the fingers of
one hand through his thick hair. The other hand clutched his shoulder, keeping him
close to me.

When he targeted my swollen pussy lips and then my clit, I
tore my mouth from his and gulped in air. My flushed skin burned and my insides
sizzled. I squirmed against him, whimpering softly as the tension built within
me.

He worked two fingers into my wet cunt from behind and they
filled me. I let out a sharp gasp, followed by a throaty moan as he stroked my
inner walls. His mouth was on my neck and he nipped and suckled my flesh as he
finger-fucked my pussy. One of his jeans-clad legs was wedged between mine and
my labia and clit rubbed against it through the thin fabric of my G-string. The
satin material that covered me, and his thick thigh massaging me, created a
titillating sensation that added to the intensity of his foreplay. I literally
rode his thigh as his fingers pumped in and out of my pussy.

I teetered on the ragged edge. Everything about him—and the
things he did to me—sent me into sensory overload and pushed me to the limits
of my restraint. As much as I wanted to hold on to the wild and wicked feelings
coursing through my veins, I couldn’t stop the swelling inside me that
ballooned and burst in a vibrant flash of breath-stealing ferocity.

“Oh God, Mike!” I called out. Clutching him to me, I let the
waves of ecstasy pull me under as his fingers continued to massage my dripping
cunt, sliding in and out a bit easier now.

I hadn’t expected him to get me off so quickly, but should
have. When I opened my eyes and found him staring intently at me, I could see
he had a need to make me come. In fact, he gave me mere seconds to recover my
breathing before he pulled away, whisked off my panties and tossed them aside.
He positioned himself between my parted legs and spread them wide, the bottom
of the chemise inching up to my hips to accommodate the way he opened me to
him. His head lowered and he licked my labia, wrenching another lustful moan
from me.

“You taste so good,” he whispered against my mound, his
breath teasing my dewy flesh. “And the way you smell… It drives me crazy.”

He suckled a pussy lip and then the tip of his tongue
flicked against my swollen clit, over and over, until I was writhing and
moaning and barreling toward the edge again.