Simply Sex (19 page)

All she had to do was finalize the Personal Touch details and the last work for K. Falls PR, give S-Mickey-B a start date, and she’d be cleared for landing in her new life.

Except for the goodbyes. To her assistant Candee, her favorite clients, to Janie. And, of course, Cole. She would stay in touch with Candee and Janie and she’d start K. Falls PR again in the future, probably in L.A., but she’d never see Cole again.

That was the hard part.

So now, as she exited the freeway in the direction of his apartment, her heart felt like a giant knot of twine around a stone—tightly twisted and heavy in her chest. The plan was to walk in, say goodbye and leave. It was the only way. If they kissed, they’d want sex and if they had sex, they’d want more sex and that was just plain sad. Deborah was arriving soon. They had to let go. Hanging on was just childish.

In brief minutes, she pulled into Cole’s complex and forced a smile for the security guard who knew her by now. She wound through the narrow streets to Cole’s unit, feeling her heart race. She’d spent her entire flight gearing up for the farewell and she was as ready as she’d ever be.

At his door, she knocked, braced for a quick hug—no all-body connection this time, no siree. She still wore a suit to remind herself how serious she was. Except she realized abruptly it was the one she’d worn when they’d met, sans ice cream stain and with a new zipper, thanks to her dry cleaner. And that made her hurt all over.

The door flew open, interrupting her nostalgia, and there was Cole, making it worse.

“Kylie!” His face lit from inside at the sight of her. He seemed to want to embrace her, but her expression made him lurch back to let her in.

She turned to close the door behind her, aware that normally he’d have slammed her against it, ripped a jacket button, retorn the zipper maybe, in his frantic need to get at her. A sad shiver rippled through her.

Radar yipped for attention at her feet, so she bent to pat him, then stood on the entry tile, suddenly shy.

Cole seemed uncertain, too. They jolted forward at the same time for an awkward hug—wooden marionettes slapped together, then jerked apart.

“How was your trip?” Cole asked, running his hands down his sides, nervous, and clearly wanting to touch her.

“Good. Productive. Very good.”

“I taped
Last Comic Standing
for you. I figured you’d be too busy in L.A. to catch it.” He fisted and released his fingers again and again.

“We worked late that night, yeah, so thanks. You’re so thoughtful…. I—” Get off the subject, stay clear. “We were launching a new e-music company. Web site, major media, big splash, national stuff. Very exciting.” She kept talking about work, standing there in the entryway, because it always helped to share ideas with Cole and because she didn’t know what else to do. Her words tasted like cardboard in her mouth.

“Sounds like you’re excited to get out there.” He managed a half smile that didn’t light his dark eyes.
Are you? Are you leaving me?
That was what he wanted to know and her heart throbbed.

She forced herself to stay strong. He had to give Deborah of the overtweezed eyebrows a fair chance. She was what he wanted. Kylie was clinging to him out of selfishness, scared of her future. Which was totally unfair to Cole.

“Oh, yeah. I’m totally jazzed.”
Totally? Jazzed?
She sounded like a cheerleader. “They truly are on the cutting edge. And they loved my presentation.”

“How could they not? Your stuff is great. Creative and fresh and strong… You underestimate your talent, Kylie, but they won’t. Or they better not or they’ll have me to answer to.”

She held up her hand, smiling at his encouragement, soaking it in like lotion on chapped skin. “Enough. You’re overdoing it.” How did he know she needed this boost for the courage to leave? “I am nervous, though. I feel like I’m jumping into the ocean from the kiddie pool.”

“Nah. You belong with the big PR sharks.”

She loved hearing that from him. Cole got it. He got her. Knew how she ticked. Her usual men found her ambition either mystifying or annoying. And she’d never felt safe enough to share her doubts with them.

Cole’s praise was honest, if overstated. Coming from a man who knew professional competence it was balm to her jittery self-esteem. In short, she believed him. She made a mental note to expect that from the man she settled down with. Eventually. In that nebulous swirl of a future life of hers.

“Your confidence in me means a lot,” she said. “It helps.”

“You don’t need me for that, Kylie,” he said seriously, as if this was a vital point. “You’ve earned what you’ve been offered. S-Mickey-B is stealing you away.”
From me?
Is that what he was telling her?

He moved closer, keeping his arms at his sides like a soldier with a grim duty to perform.

“I missed you,” he blurted finally, as if the words were ripped from his throat. His dark eyes flared and she fought the desire to melt into his arms.

“Oh, I missed you, too.” She couldn’t risk a closer step. Not if she expected to walk away. She stayed rooted in place, swaying in the hot breeze of what they wanted from each other, but didn’t dare take. They couldn’t give in. They had to end this now. They both spoke at once.

“We should stop—”

“We have to quit—”

“Sorry,” she said, “You go ahead.”

“We should stop seeing each other.”

“My exact thought,” she said, half relieved, half sad, that he knew it, too. “Being with you has been, well, wonderful. The sex, of course, and…other things.”

“For me, too, Kylie. It’s been…”

“Wild,” she added quickly, afraid he’d say something touching and she’d get all emotional and not be able to bear the pain swelling in her, reaching up like a bruised balloon into her throat. “I embarrassed you at your office, for God’s sake. Got us both behind on our work, took us off course.
Waaay
off course. Distracted you…”

From Deborah.
Jealousy burned in Kylie’s veins at that thought, startling her. That woman better appreciate what she was about to get.

“We did it together. All the way.”

“And had so much fun doing it.” Kylie was trying to stay light, but her voice quavered.

“All that exercise.” His voice shook, too, and the joke seemed so lame. “That sense of well-being.”

“Right.” The words echoed over their heads, even though the ceiling wasn’t high. There was so much they weren’t saying, but what was the point? She couldn’t change anything. Even though she felt as if she was giving something up that she really, really wanted. No, needed.

Had to have to be all right in the world.

Stop it. Stop it.

They stared at each other. The silence swelled and beat the air like a pulse or a drum.

“I should go,” she said.

He nodded. Then his eyes lit with a new idea. “But wait. Did they feed you on the plane? Are you hungry?”

“Starving! It was just crackers. Stale ones. Can you believe how little sustenance they give you these days?”
What are you doing? Are you crazy? Get out now.

“How about Mexican?” he said. “This is a special occasion, right?”

“Our last lard together?” Jeez, there were tears in her eyes. Over animal fat. She should run, not walk, this instant, but instead, she said, “Sure,” and followed him to the kitchen, where he grabbed his very own copy of her favorite take-out menu. Now it was
their
place.

She looked over his shoulder at the choices, distracted by the sight of his fingers sliding down the columns, remembering them sliding over her skin, finding her softest spot and not moving until she was gasping and twitching in ecstasy.

“Remember that first order?” He caught her eye.

“Every second of every minute,” she whispered.

He stilled, the phone at his ear, dial tone sounding in the air between them, his breathing as ragged as hers. She’d bet his heart was pounding out a rib just as hers was doing.

“Then we ate in the bathtub. And made love.”

“Splashing the leftovers to mush.”

“But the sopaipillas were in the kitchen. For later.”

“With the honey.”

“Yeah. The honey.”

She could hardly contain herself. She itched for him, ached for him. They were inches apart. All she had to do was lean a little closer.

“Do you know what you want?” Cole asked, unconsciously licking his lips, his pupils flaring. He meant from the restaurant, of course, but she was too far gone to care.

“Absolutely.” She grabbed him.

He let go of the phone and grabbed back. They kissed deeply, sweeping tongues, massaging lips, then shifting to kiss cheeks, ears, necks, smearing their mouths everywhere, wanting it all, not getting enough. They squeezed forearms, rubbed pelvises, pressed bodies, struggling for balance, banging into the wall, then the counter, finally knocking over a stool.

“What are we doing?” Cole gasped, looking at her, eyes glazed.

She didn’t want to figure it out. She just wanted to put out this heat, feed this hunger. “Having one last time?” she gasped. “It’s…a…special…”

“Occasion?” he breathed, yanking at her jacket. This time the button didn’t fly off—darn that dry cleaner.

She had to unbutton it, frantic, then dropped the jacket at her feet. She went at his belt, unlatching it.

“We might as well order some food, huh?” he said, undoing her blouse.

“That would be efficient.” She bent and retrieved the fallen phone and while Cole placed the order, she stripped him of his clothes and took hers off, too. He fumbled the order, watching, taking in her body with greed and delight.
I’ll have that…mmm, and that… Oooh, that, too. I want it all.

Finally, he thanked the clerk and hung up the phone. “Come here, you.” He yanked her to him, then swept her up into his arms, naked against his bare chest. His erection brushed her stomach as he moved. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his dear face, feeling secure in his arms.
I could rest here. I could breathe.
It was so delicious and so right.

Radar trotted behind them, her bra strap between his teeth. Oh, she would miss this.

Cole settled her on cool sheets—the new ones he’d bought for her—and climbed into bed beside her, twining his legs with hers. Now that they’d decided to make love, time slowed.

She ran her fingers across his chest, studying his nipples, the swelling and ripple of muscle, the swirl of hair, brown and gold, committing every delicious inch of him to memory.

He ran his finger over the tops of her breasts, one after the other, delicately, tickling her, his eyes intent on his finger’s journey. “I’ll always remember this.”

“Good.” Even when he started with Deborah? Kylie closed her eyes against the jealousy that throbbed through her like a toothache. Would Deborah be good in bed? Better than Kylie? More in synch with Cole? That wasn’t possible. And did the woman even like comedy?

“This has been good for me,” Cole was saying, drawing her back to the delicious moment. “You’ve been good for me.”

“When I wasn’t getting you in trouble, you mean.”

“You’ve got me thinking about taking it easier. There’s more to life than work.”

“I
have
been a bad influence on you.”

“You’ve been a kindred spirit. You’ve made me see myself differently. You’ve made me feel…better.” He seemed to want to say more, but stopped himself. “I hope when you get to L.A. you won’t push yourself so hard you don’t have any fun.”

“Not to worry. I always make time for Comedy Central.”

“Plant a garden, though. Right away. Go out for drinks with your colleagues. Find a man. Ouch.” He grimaced. “Forget that. I don’t want to think of you with anyone else. Is that bad?”

“No. I know how you feel.” Kylie swallowed a knot the size of a golf ball in her throat.
Forget Deborah. At least get the woman an eyebrow pencil and some Valium. Oh, hell. Forget her. Be with me.

Fearing she’d blurt those very words, she shifted to pull Cole over her, and wrapped her legs across his back.

“Mmm,” he said, instantly getting the idea. In seconds, he slid inside, smooth and easy, with a groan of rich pleasure. Like he was finally home after a long, long trip.

She lifted her hips to get all of him inside her. They rocked together, smooth and sweet, holding each other’s gazes as they climbed the familiar peak, their bodies knowing every move, every nuance of reaction. They stared at each other freely, filling up, fixing in their minds the way they were together. Did it get any better than this? Could it?

Maybe it was because of their sexual connection, or because it was the last time, but each stroke felt more familiar and more right, as if Cole belonged inside her. Always.

An odd light came into his eyes as his pace quickened. An odd light she recognized.
Don’t go. Never go.