Read Her Sexy Valentine Online

Authors: Stephanie Bond

Her Sexy Valentine (9 page)

BOOK: Her Sexy Valentine
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When they exited Carol's office, Tracy was the only employee in the area. The young woman was using the dissected memo as an example as she typed a new one on her laptop. Carol hoped she and her assistant were finally making headway toward a good working relationship.

As she and Luke walked toward the elevator, he jammed his fingers into his hair. “Is it
just me, or does this seem like the longest day ever?”

“No,” Carol said as she leaned against the elevator wall, “it's not just you.”

12

The elevator stopped on the lobby level even though only Carol and Luke were on board and neither of them had pressed the lobby button. When the door opened, Luke stepped forward to press the Close Door button then stopped, staring out the window. “You're not going to believe this—it's a blizzard out there.”

She smiled and nodded, not even bothering to look. “Uh-huh.”

He stared at her. “But…it
never
snows in Atlanta.”

“So they say,” she agreed, then pushed the close door button.

She could hear the noise of the party even before the elevator stopped. When the doors
opened, the full force of music, laughter and voices blasted her. Her stomach churned, both at the known and the unknown.

A few heads turned in her direction, but after a quick downturn of their mouths, they turned away.

“Ignore them,” Luke said. “Hey, why don't we take your coat and briefcase to the storage room? I have something for you.”

The candy. Which was connected to the kiss bone. Which was connected to the bone…bone. Carol followed him slowly down the hallway, fighting a groan that somehow turned into a moan.

He looked back at her. “Did you say something?”

“No.”

He unlocked the door of the storage room, held it open for her, then allowed it to close behind them while he turned on lights.

“It's not much,” he said, reaching high on a shelf to remove a heart-shaped box of chocolates.

“Did you say you feel a cold coming on?”
she asked in a desperate attempt to ward off the impending kiss of spiraling lust.

Luke shook his head. “No. Just a little tired for no reason I can put my finger on.”

When he handed her the box of candy, his cheeks were tinged pink. “It's silly, I guess.”

She opened her mouth to say that, in fact,
she
was feeling under the weather and wouldn't want to spread anything to him through a kiss, but stopped when she saw instead a red silk box that read “Be Mine.” Surprise sparkled in her chest at the romantic nature of the gift.

Luke scratched his head. “To be honest, I'm not quite sure why I bought that one. It just seemed…right.” He thumped his chest as if trying to self-administer CPR. “Lately I've been having these…fantasies…um, feelings…”

Apparently deciding actions spoke louder than words, he lowered his mouth toward hers. In the wake of his incredibly romantic gesture, Carol's bogus contagion defense went out the window. She lifted her mouth to accept his kiss, knowing what his warm lips would feel like before they even made contact with hers. She sighed through the overlapping of
sensations that were both new and familiar. Far removed from their first kiss, her mind and body still reeled from the raw power in Luke's probing tongue.

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “Do you believe in déjà vu?”

“Yes,” she whispered, then curled her hand around his neck and pulled his lips down on hers, hard.

Luke moaned into her mouth and the vibration echoed through her body. He pulled her against him and their hands became frenzied, roaming over each other's bodies. He smoothed his palms down her back, over her buttocks, and pulled her sex against the hardened ridge of his erection. The physical proof of what they were about to do…yet again…made Carol dizzy with lust.

He stopped, his gaze bouncing around the room, looking for a suitable surface.

Carol pointed to the nearby table. “Take me there.”

He picked her up by the waist and set her on the table, then slid up her skirt so she could spread her knees.

“Wait,” she said, then nodded to the door. “Can you wedge a chair under the doorknob?”

“Good thinking,” he said. After the chair was in place, he came back to stand between her thighs.

Carol's pumps fell off with succeeding thuds. She leaned back on her hands to brace herself, then squeezed his hips with her knees. Her breasts, her sex, her entire body throbbed with anticipation, especially since now she knew what to expect.

“Oh, no,” he murmured suddenly, then put a hand to his head. “I don't have a condom. I'm sorry.”

“There's one in my briefcase,” she said, pointing. “Top compartment.”

She was learning.

There were, after all, lots of things from the pages of the erotic novels she'd read for the Red Tote Book Club she wanted to try that required full contact.

Luke was back with the condom in record time, grinning. “I'm impressed, Snow. And grateful.” He kissed his way down her neck,
then plucked at the buttons on her white blouse until it lay open, exposing her naked breasts.

This morning she'd skipped the bra entirely.

He cupped one breast in his hand, and suckled the other one, pulling her nipple into his mouth until she shuddered with pleasure. But they were both too frantic to linger. Luke pushed her skirt to her waist, then rolled down her panty hose and underwear to expose her sex.

She loosened his belt and unzipped his pants to free his imposing erection. When she clasped the rigid length of him, he gasped, his eyes hooded with desire. She helped him roll on the condom and position his sheathed cock at her slick entrance.

“Now,” she whispered in his ear.

He thrust forward, filling her completely. Carol wrapped her legs around his waist. She couldn't think…couldn't speak…could only feel the amazing wonderfulness of having his body melded with hers. It felt like the first time all over again. The sensations pummeling her
were almost overwhelming, leaving her languid and elastic.

He massaged the tiny sensitive nub that housed her orgasms, looking into her eyes. “Snow, you're so sexy,” he murmured, not bothering to hide his surprise. “I'm not going to last long.”

His sex talk left her quivering and on the verge of a massive orgasm. He used his thumb to send her over the edge. Carol rode him through a deep, powerful climax, contracting around him. Before she had quieted, he shuddered his own release, groaning against her neck. The throbbing bass of the party music all but guaranteed that no one could hear them.

At length their breathing slowed. He pulled away, then kissed her thoroughly. “Wow,” he murmured. “What just happened?”

Carol steeled herself, but felt the dreaded sense of remorse start to nibble away at the pure bliss she'd felt only seconds ago. Part of her felt manipulative, because she'd known what was going to happen, had even prepared for it. Luke, on the other hand, had no idea what was going on, only knew that he was conflicted
about her. If he felt the ghost of their intimate encounters, he probably had the sense that his body knew her better than his brain actually did.

It had to be mystifying.

Luke pulled back. “Will you go to dinner with me tomorrow night?”

Carol straightened her clothes. “Tomorrow…you mean Valentine's Day?” “Yes.”

She turned her back to retrieve her underwear and panty hose, stepping into them as quickly and modestly as she could manage in such a confining space. “I thought you already had plans,” she chided. “I heard you tell someone that you were having dinner with a ‘special lady.'”

He grinned. “I will if you say yes. I haven't made any plans—that's my generic response.”

Carol wet her lips, wavering. She wanted to say yes, wanted to go on a bona fide date with Luke, but she was already so…
attached
to him, she was terrified their relationship was
already lopsided…and once again she'd be left out in the cold.

The scene of Valentine's Day Present that Gabrielle had played for her had shown Luke with the gorgeous blonde, meaning if Carol said no, he would meet the other woman and think enough of her to ask her to dinner instead.

So despite the great sex—most of which he was unaware of—and his heartfelt invitation, how much could Luke really care about her? She'd suffered enough humiliation in her relationship with James to last a lifetime.

It just wasn't worth the risk.

Carol turned back and forced a note of casual nonchalance into her voice. “I don't think so. Look, this was just a hookup to satisfy curiosity. And I'm not curious anymore.” She adopted a blasé expression.

Luke's head went back, as if he'd been slapped. “Uh…okay.”

She slipped her feet into her pumps. “Why don't you leave first so it'll seem less suspicious if anyone is watching.”

“Okay.” He hesitated, then rechecked his clothing and made his way to the door.

She turned away and closed her eyes. That was too close. Having sex with Luke Chancellor three times might not have been the smartest move, but thinking it meant something emotional this time around would be the biggest mistake ever.

“Luke,” she said.

He turned back. “Yes?”

“Thank you for the candy.”

He looked as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. Instead, he slipped out the door and it closed behind him.

Carol held her breath against the sudden pain squeezing her chest. She had the distinct feeling that her chance to be with Luke had just expired…in every alternate universe.

Wondering how she would get through the rest of the party, Carol checked her clothing and smoothed her hair, realizing with some small measure of relief that at least her headache was gone. She lifted her hand to her forehead to find the goose egg she'd been nursing was also gone. It was something to be grateful for in what seemed like an unending day.

From the floor, a glint of metal caught her
eye—her silver-and-emerald earring. She bit her lip. Was it worth one more try to retrieve the stray bauble that James had said was supposed to symbolize “a successful love”?

Carol looked around the room and smiled when she spied a heavy-duty industrial push broom. No more falling monitors.

She retrieved the broom, then used it to snag the earring and pull it out a safe distance from under the shelf where she could get to it without bumping into anything.

She leaned the broom against the shelving unit, then crouched to pick up the earring. Triumphant, she straightened and pumped her arm.

Which dislodged the broom, sending it sliding along the shelving unit. Above her, she heard a scraping noise, and when she looked up, the end of the broom had nudged something large that was bearing down on her.

Despite the uncannily prophetic sense of déjà vu, Carol didn't have time to put up her hand. Pain exploded in her head, then everything went…well, you know.

13

Someone was shaking Carol by the shoulder.

“Carol…wake up. We still have work to do. Carol?”

Carol resisted opening her eyes because part of her knew whatever “work” Gabrielle had for her would not be fun or pleasant.

“Carol!”

Her eyes popped open, sending a blinding pain through her temple. “
Ow, ow, ow.
What now?”

Standing above her, Gabrielle gave her a tight smile. “You don't have to be so testy, you know. This is your dream, not mine. It's not as if I'm getting paid.”

Carol frowned. “It's because of your sug
gestion to seduce a man that I'm in this dilemma to begin with.”

“That was an optional assignment. Let's get you up.”

Gabrielle helped her to a sitting position. Carol grimaced. “The pain is worse this time.”

Gabrielle made a rueful noise. “A person can take only so many hits.”

“Do you think it's a sign that things are about to get worse?” “Or better.”

“Or worse,” Carol pressed.

“Or worse,” Gabrielle agreed.

“Has this happened to any of the other women in the book club?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Gabrielle said.

Carol gestured to the monitor lying in the floor on its side. “Let's get this over with. What is it?”

“A look at Valentine's Day To Come.”

Panic flowered in Carol's chest. “How far into the future?” “Let's see.”

Carol held up her hand. “I don't want to.”

Gabrielle sat down on the floor next to Carol. “I know. And maybe that's why I'm here.”

“What if I see something horrible…like what if I'm not even there?”

“Is that what you're afraid of?” Gabrielle asked. “That you'll die alone?”

Carol tried to think around the pain hammering her head. “Or maybe that I'll die
because
I'm alone.”

Gabrielle laughed. “That's not true. When a woman gets married, her life expectancy actually goes down. Besides, you don't have to have a spouse or a lover to have a life rich with family and friends.”

“I don't have family.”

“I know. I'm sorry. But you could have your own someday.”

“And…” Carol swallowed hard. “I don't have friends.”

Gabrielle made a disbelieving noise. “Of course you have friends.”

“No, I don't. I haven't kept up with childhood friends, and my coworkers hate me.”

“That can't be true.”

“It is. They call me names behind my back, like Ice Princess.”

“You have the women in the book club.”

“They don't like me either,” Carol said.

“Of course they do.”

“It's why I agreed to the seduction experiment,” Carol admitted. “So they would like me. So I would fit in.”

“I see.” Gabrielle steepled her hands. “Why do you think you have trouble making friends?”

Carol shook her head. “I honestly don't know.”

“Then why don't we take a look at the monitor and go from there?”

Carol chewed on a thumbnail while the monitor blinked on. The scene that materialized was a group of five women, perhaps in their eighties, sitting around a table, drinking coffee out of mugs with hearts on them. Carol scanned the faces, looking for herself. “I don't think any of those women are me.”

Gabrielle turned up the volume.

“Those were the days,” one woman was saying, “when books were actually made out of
paper, when you could hold them in your hands and turn pages. Remember?”

The other women nodded, looking wistful.

“Cassie, how do you like your e-book reader?”

Gabrielle and Carol looked at each other. “That's our Cassie!”

“I love it,” Cassie said, and when she smiled, Carol recognized the woman's bright blue eyes. “I can carry hundreds of books around with no problem. How about you, Page?”

Gabrielle and Carol laughed when they realized they were looking at the Red Tote Book Club circa fifty years into the future.

“I love it, too,” Page said. “What I like best is that I can read the Red Tote Book Club selections on my e-reader and no one makes comments about an old lady reading dirty books!” Page Sharpe's auburn hair had faded, but she was still very pretty—in fact, all of the women had aged well.

As the conversation proceeded, they were able to identify the other women by their voices.

“Oh, my goodness, that's me!” Gabrielle said, pointing. “I'm completely white-headed!”

“But still beautiful,” Carol said.

Gabrielle beamed.

Over the course of the next few minutes, they gathered that, amazingly, all the men the women had seduced as part of their book club assignment had become either a husband or significant other—and that all the couples seemed to still enjoy a frisky sex life.

But it became clear that Carol wasn't among the group, and the longer the scene played, the lower her heart hung.

“When was the last time anyone saw Carol Snow?” one of the women asked.

Carol sat forward.

They all made mournful noises and took the opportunity to sip their coffee. “I call her every few months and leave messages,” Jacqueline Mays said. “But she never returns my calls.”

“Me, too,” said Wendy Trainer, still wearing her trademark pixie cut. “I never hear back from her.”

“I send her a holiday card every year,” Cassie said. “But I never get one in return.”

Carol bit into her lip.

“I drove by her place once,” the Gabrielle on the screen said. “I knocked on the door, but she didn't answer. Her neighbor said she hardly ever sees her. Says all she does is stay in and watch TV.”

“Imagine that,” Cassie said. “She still has a television.”

“Didn't TVs go out of vogue about the same time as paper books?” Wendy asked.

“Sounds right,” Jacqueline said. “God, we're old.”

“But at least we have each other,” Page said.

“That's right,” they all chimed in, clinking their coffee cups.

“I just wish we could reconnect with Carol,” Wendy said.

“If you remember,” Cassie said, “she was always standoffish.”

“Hard to get to know,” Page agreed.

“And she didn't really participate that much,” Jacqueline said.

“Maybe she likes being alone,” Wendy added with a shrug.

In the end, all the women decided that yes, Carol must like being alone. Only the Gabrielle on the monitor said nothing, instead just sipped her coffee as the scene faded to black.

Carol blinked back desperate tears. “See? I'm destined to be alone.”

Gabrielle clasped her hand. “You're not destined to be alone. You can control your personal relationships. So, after watching that future scene, why do you think you have trouble making friends?”

Carol sniffed and tried to collect herself. “Because I don't extend myself. Because I don't reach out to people and let them know I care. Because I don't lean on other people for support when I need it.”

“All good reasons,” Gabrielle said. “And you understand that you're going to have to change those behaviors to attract friends, and maybe lovers?”

She nodded. “Yes. And I will, if I ever get out of this endless loop I'm in.”

Gabrielle pushed to her feet. “There's an old
truism that says, ‘If you keep doing what you're doing, you'll keep getting what you've got.' To break out of your endless loop, maybe you need to do something unexpected.”

Carol gingerly stood. “Like what?”

Gabrielle smiled. “That's up to you. It's time to say goodbye.”

“I won't see you again?”

The woman smiled wide. “Every week at the Red Tote Book Club as long as you choose to. Good luck with your journey back.”

Carol nodded and brushed her hands down the skirt of her Friday suit. Then she walked to the door of the storage room and let herself out in the hallway.

Her feet were heavy as she moved toward the elevator and her hands shook uncontrollably. She didn't want to be the old woman everyone in the scene on the monitor talked about—the recluse whose only pastime was watching TV. The woman who was alone.

Completely, absolutely, utterly alone.

As Carol approached the elevator, she noticed that once again, preparations were underway for the afternoon party. Red decorations of
cupids and hearts abounded. Blowups of some of the company's Valentine's Day cards leaned against the wall, including the “take no prisoners” card she'd seen on her assistant's desk.

The volunteers shot unwelcome looks her way as she walked by.

If you keep doing what you're doing, you'll keep getting what you've got.

Carol pivoted and turned back. “Hi,” she said to the group of about twenty. “My name is Carol and I work in the finance department. And I was wondering if you could tell me what you'd do with a thousand dollars if it fell out of the sky.”

At first the employees were shy about speaking up, but the more probing questions that Carol asked about their families, eventually everyone opened up. She'd expected them to give answers such as a family vacation or a plasma television, not things like medical bills, car repairs, or a new heating unit for their home.

She enjoyed the conversation and appreciated their honesty. When she walked away, she had a better understanding of what kinds of daily financial obligations the average family
faced—from school expenses to insurance to caring for elderly parents.

On the ride up to her floor, Carol turned to each person in the elevator and asked them a question about their job. At first, people looked at her warily. That's when Carol realized that people really did see her as cold and uncaring.

And why not? She hadn't given anyone a reason to think anything else—not potential friends and not potential lovers.

Luke's face floated into her mind. That was about to change she just hoped she wasn't too late.

BOOK: Her Sexy Valentine
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