Falling Into Drew (6 page)

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Authors: Harriet Schultz

BOOK: Falling Into Drew
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chapter 10

 

“Oh. My. Freaking. God! You what?” Heads turned in the coffee shop to see what the beautiful blonde was screaming about. “I’m so happy for you!” Liz jumped out of her seat and wrapped her blushing friend in a tight hug.

“Calm down, Liz, you’re embarrassing me. So I slept with someone. It’s not that big a deal.” Kate leaned closer to Liz, not wanting to be overheard. Her voice was several decibels lower than her theatrical, and much more excitable, best friend’s. It had been two days since
that night
as Kate now thought of her meeting or date or whatever the hell it was with Drew, but this was the first time that the two women’s schedules meshed. Although it killed Kate not to tell her best friend right away, this discussion was one that had to be in person, so Kate had controlled the need to immediately call Liz with her news.

“Not that big a deal? Are you crazy? You slept with Drew O’Connor! God, I can’t stand it!”

“If you keep this up, Elizabeth Bradford, I’m going to take that coffee away from you and order a decaf.” Kate broke a small piece off the blueberry muffin they were sharing and popped it in her mouth.

Liz reached across the table, grabbed Kate’s hands, and lowered her voice to a whisper, but one that was insistent. “Tell me everything, and I mean e-ver-y-thing!”

Kate’s face had the enigmatic smile of someone with a delicious secret. She tilted her head and looked up at the ceiling, then tapped her chin with one finger as if deep in thought. “Let me see…where should I begin?"

“If you don’t start talking right now I’m going to cause a scene and you know I can do it.” Liz was out of patience, but then the two of them dissolved into giggles.

“Okay, okay, I’ll talk. No need for an Oscar-worthy performance,” Kate began. “About an hour after he left my office with his agent, Drew sent a text asking me out for a drink. I assumed that he wanted to talk about the book we’d discussed. I mean why else would he want to see me?” She lowered her eyes and gave her head a slight shake from side to side.

“Come on, Kate. How many times do I have to tell you that you’re beautiful to get you to believe it?” Liz said, gently. “Then what happened?”

“We met in the lobby of my office building and got into the limo…”

Liz interrupted. “A limo?”

“It belongs to his agent who evidently is a trust fund baby and too fancy for the subway. Anyway, Drew held my hand as we left the building. It felt amazing.” She sighed and slowly shook her head from side to side. “It also confused the hell out of me.”

“Where did you go?”

“We ended up at this dark dive bar downtown where no one bothers him and we talked and talked and talked.”

“About what?” Liz leaned her elbows on the table and rested her face on her upturned palms. Her eyes never left Kate’s.

“He didn’t want to talk about writing. Not even close. It ended up being mostly about the impossible to ignore chemistry between us.” Kate’s eyes sparkled with happiness and her lips formed a small, satisfied grin when she saw the mixture of excitement and surprise on Liz’s expressive face. “I still can’t believe he wanted me that way, but I tried to make us focus on the book, since getting naked with him would screw up our working relationship.”

“Who cares about a stupid book when you can have Drew O’Connor? Get your priorities straight, woman!”

“That’s sort of what he said. He also told me that he’d thought about me since the day we met at St. Patrick’s and never imagined he’d see me again.”

“Shit, it’s a fucking fairy tale,” Liz sighed dreamily, then abruptly sat up straight. “The panties! Our bet! Did you show them to him?”

Kate laughed. “I slept with him. What do you think?”

Liz hooted, causing heads to turn in their direction again. “You’re not going to tell me all the details, are you? As curious as I am, that’s between you and him. But I need to know one thing. Well, maybe a few things.”

“Such as?”

“Was it wonderful? Did you see shooting stars? Did you spend the night? Are you seeing him again?

“It was beyond wonderful. Shooting stars? Hell, I saw the entire universe! I left in the morning. About seeing him again? I’m not sure. He’s in Europe doing commentary on some major ski event and probably screwing
fräulein
s
, so who knows?” She tried to sound like she didn’t care, but her friend wasn’t fooled.

“Oh, Katie.” Liz’s eyes filled with concern. “I hope he doesn’t turn out to be the rat bastard the press makes him out to be. Even if he does, now that you’ve had a taste of a hot man you can branch out from the boring ones you’ve dated.”

“Sure,” Kate sighed. Liz knew why she stuck with safe and boring. Those men were unlikely to break her heart since they had little to no chance of capturing it.

 

An ocean and several time zones away, Drew and Charles sat at a high top table in a crowded bar unwinding after a packed day. They were dressed casually in jeans and sweaters, Charles in navy blue and Drew in his usual black. Instead of his leather jacket, a down parka — black, of course — was flung over the back of his chair.

No one would argue that they were the two best-looking men in the place, but both were oblivious to the admiring eyes aimed their way.

“I think today went well,” Drew said after taking a sip of the steaming hot buttered rum he’d ordered to help thaw his body after being outside all day.

“It did. No one calls a ski race like you, my man. You bring an excitement and insight to it that someone who’s never competed at the same level can. And you’re the skiers’ favorite interviewer because you’re one of them. That makes my job really easy.” Charles leaned back and studied his friend, then frowned. “I’m the only person who would notice, but you seem a little distracted. Want to tell me what’s on your mind? Is it something I can handle for you?”

Drew’s blue eyes flashed a warning. “You’ll keep your hands to yourself on this one,” he growled, and his friend’s smile broadened in response.

Charles leaned in so that he wouldn’t be overheard. “It’s a woman and not just any woman. The editor, right?”

Drew nodded. “We got together after your driver dropped you off the day we had the meeting at her office.”


Got together
can mean many things. Drinks? Dinner? Conversation? Or did you just fuck her?”

Drew’s whole body tensed at Charles’ use of that word. He’d fucked enough women to recognize that what he and Kate had done was more than that. Although the mechanics were the same, sex with her was different. He couldn’t say they’d made love, but he’d felt something beyond the physical. Hell, she’d spent the night and that only happened if he was wiped out and fell asleep. Even then, the women usually had the sense to leave before he woke. He couldn’t remember ever inviting a woman to sleep in his bed, yet that was where he’d wanted her to be. It scared the shit out of him.

Drew shot a murderous look at Charles. “We. Did. Not. Fuck. We went for a drink to talk about the book that I somehow got manipulated into doing. But I guess I should thank you because without your push, I never would have met Kate again.”

“So you went back uptown in a snowstorm just to talk business with her?”

Drew’s hand met Charles’ shoulder in a playful shove that was hard enough to almost knock him off his chair. “Cut the crap. If you want to know something, ask me.”

“Did you sleep with her and, more important, did she spend the night?”

“Yes and yes.” Drew couldn’t prevent his lips from curving into a satisfied smile. “And to prevent more questions — a: I’m not sure what it means; b: I slept like a baby; and, c: when I woke up with my body wrapped around hers, I didn’t wish that she’d left during the night.”

Before Charles could react to his friend’s surprising revelation, he spotted two women headed for their table. “Incoming,” he warned, but it was too late. Drew lifted his brows and turned his head just in time to watch the woman rest her hand on his crotch. Red lips landed on his before he recognized the predator as a ski groupie who he’d slept with once. Or maybe it had been twice. The hand massaging his package should have made him hard, but his cock didn’t make the smallest twitch in acknowledgement. He lifted her hand away as if it offended him, because it did.

“Inga,” he said, pulling her in front of him. “It’s been a while, but I see you’re still collecting skiers. Why bother with someone like me who’s out of the game when there’s so much hot, young blood available?”

The blond, blue-eyed Austrian beauty made a Germanic sound of disgust. “Ach. The young ones are asleep already, preparing for tomorrow’s races. You considered a pre-race blow job good luck. These young men don’t know what they’re missing.”

He didn’t answer and noticed that Charles already had his hand under Inga’s friend’s sweater as she perched on his lap. A hint of a smile formed and Drew shook his head from side to side when it became obvious that it was time for him to leave the bar’s party crowd to their late night entertainments, ones he used to be at the center of.

“I’m not playing any more, Inga, so why don’t you and your friend both show Charles a good time? He’s not a racer, but he’s even richer than me.”

“Are you sure,
liebchen
?” she purred in his ear while pressing her breasts against his back. “Don’t you like sex anymore?”

“Not the way I used to. I’ve grown up.” He paid the bar tab and squeezed Charles’ shoulder before leaving to return to their rented house. “Think you can handle two of them?”

“If I can’t, I’ll die a happy man. Come find me for breakfast to make sure I’m conscious. I’m anxious to find out if what you once told me Inga can do with her mouth is really true.”

Drew threw back his head and laughed. “It’s quite a talent. Have a good time, but be sure to use condoms with these two. They get around.”

He pulled his knitted hat down to his brows and kept his eyes aimed at the ground so that no one would stop him as he pushed his way to the door. The night air was frigid and he headed uphill to their rented slopeside chalet at a brisk pace. He hoped to hell that no one had snapped a picture of Inga draped all over him because he knew what it would look like to Kate if it made it onto some website. He’d never had to explain himself to a woman and wondered why he suddenly cared what someone he’d slept with once would think if she saw it. Yet he did.

Maybe he’d call her. It was midnight in Austria, but six hours earlier in New York, which meant Kate would be finishing up at the office or already home. Suddenly, he needed to hear her voice.

He piled logs into the great stone fireplace and nursed the low flame into a blaze, then wandered to the kitchen to search the cabinets for what he wasn’t sure. Cocoa. He grinned as he mixed it expertly, aware of how out of character this beverage would seem to those who bought into his bad boy reputation. Mug in hand and settled on the plush sofa with the fire as the only light in the oversized room, he debated his earlier urge to call Kate. The woman really had him off balance.

He set the half-finished mug of cocoa on the floor and gazed at the dancing flames. Just the memory of their night together made him hard. He’d guessed she might be a little uptight, but she was remarkably passionate. It had been a surprise, a wonderful one, when he woke the next morning with his cock in her mouth. He’d had more blow jobs than he’d ever remember, but the feeling of her mouth on him had twisted his insides.  Although she’d been more than willing to finish him that way, he’d flipped her onto her back and plunged into her warmth. He didn’t question why he’d needed that intimate connection, but he was sure that he would have lost his mind if he’d denied himself that joy.

He bolted upright. Joy? He’d never associated that word with sex, but it seemed the right way to describe what he’d felt. Drew’s mouth opened wide to release an exhausted yawn. He propped his feet on the low table in front of him, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

When he woke, the room was bright and freezing cold now that the fire had died. A quick check told him it was almost seven a.m. and he made a snap decision. The slopes would be empty and they were calling to him.

After a bowl of instant oatmeal washed down by the leftover, now cold cocoa, Drew twisted his body into the skintight racer suit he’d worn in his last World Cup competition, covered it with insulated pants and a parka for the ride up the lift, grabbed the ski tote with his helmet, goggles and boots inside it, and then slung the bag containing his skis and poles over one shoulder. Others had dealt with his equipment when he skied professionally, but now it was all up to him.

The lift that carried racers to the top of the course was closed to the public, but the attendant recognized Drew instantly. An awestruck young employee volunteered to ride up with him to help with the gear. Once off the lift, Drew slid out of his warm outerwear. His sleek, aerodynamic racing suit was covered with the logos of companies that had funded his racing career. Many had kept him on as a spokesman, which made him a wealthy man. Every piece of his clothing and equipment was designed for maximum speed since hundredths of a second could separate winners from losers.

He did a series of stretches and jumping jacks to warm his muscles and pump up his heart rate, then quickly snapped his rigid boots into the skis’ bindings, adjusted his grip on ski poles shaped to curve around his body, pulled on his helmet and finally lowered his goggles. The young attendant wished Drew luck and re-boarded the lift to carry his clothing to the bottom of the mountain.

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