From Ex to Eternity(23)

“Not like this.” She flipped over on her stomach, arching her back and glancing over her shoulder at him like a naughty fantasy come to life. “Like this.”

Legs spread wide in invitation, she jiggled her rear. His eyelids slammed closed involuntarily and he forced them open because no way was he missing a moment of this visual delight.

“Keith, hurry. Take me now and make me come like you did last night.”

Groaning, he slid into her slowly, relishing the tight heat. But she was having none of that. Impatiently, she rolled her hips, drawing him deeper, and her little cries inflamed him with urgency.

Gripping her hips, he filled her again and again until she went rigid and then convulsed around him, squeezing a shattering climax from the depths of his soul.

His midsection contracted as he emptied himself, leaving nothing behind. Almost unable to stand, he braced his arms against the desk, one on each side of the amazing woman before him. Cheek to the blotter, she closed her eyes and let a blissful, smug smile bloom.

She was thoroughly enjoying the liberties he’d insisted she take. Good. He was, too.

It hit him like a two-by-four to the head—their affair wasn’t so great this time around just because she was so hot and ready and taking charge, but because they were coming together as equals. He’d never had that before.

When he thought he could move without collapsing to the floor in a jellified heap, he bent forward and laid his lips against her temple in a long kiss. “Maybe next time we’ll make it to the bed.”

I want you close to me while you dream.

“Been there, done that. No thanks. Next on my list is the hot tub out on your balcony.”

Disappointment flared but he shoved it back. He was getting exactly what he’d asked for—what was there to be disappointed about?

“Done. Come by tonight.” The last thing he needed was to spend another sleepless night after Cara left, but he was apparently incapable of saying no.

He helped Cara get dressed and drew on his ruined shirt. She pecked him on the cheek in what he assumed was goodbye and then dived in for a long, lingering kiss full of sensual promise that he couldn’t have stepped away from if a category five hurricane hit.

Who could blame him for spitting out yes after yes? This new Cara blew his mind, in so many ways. And the more he tried to convince himself it was strictly sexual, the less he believed it.

This was a dangerous game to be playing in the midst of the rescheduled expo. Perhaps he should focus on that and not on this impossible dynamic between them. But as Cara’s sexy backside disappeared through the door and Keith contemplated how he’d get past Alice with the buttons hanging by threads from his shirt, he had a pretty good idea a hot tub was in his future.





Nine

The promised email was indeed in Cara’s inbox when she returned to her room from Keith’s office, not at all ashamed to have just experienced an amazing orgasm on the boss’s desk with his staff milling around outside the door.

Cornering him in his lair had been the most daring thing she’d ever done. But she knew he wouldn’t have shoved her out the door. It was part of what made this fling so great—she didn’t have to wonder where she stood with Keith. Didn’t have to worry he’d leave her again because she planned to ensure this relationship stayed fun and nonpermanent, as he’d specified.

It was perfect.

And he’d never find out she’d cried herself to sleep last night, longing for it not to feel as if she’d sold her soul to the devil for a company with her name on it and an earth-shattering carnal affair with someone she’d probably never see again after the expo finished.

The expo’s new schedule called for the bridal fashion show on the second day, which was perfect. She and Meredith would be able to make the final alterations today and tomorrow, no problem...assuming Cara stayed out of Keith’s office, that was.

Humming to cover a tightness in her throat she couldn’t explain, Cara gathered the models and Meredith to go over the revised schedule for the next couple of days. She answered the understandable questions from the girls about accommodations and rescheduled return flights—Regent was footing the bill for any and all additional fees, a classy move that as a business owner without an unlimited expense fund, Cara appreciated.

Since she did have a business to run and her return to the States had been delayed, Cara sent the models off to relax and assigned Meredith the task of assessing the beach pavilion. If it had been damaged, they’d need a venue change or, barring that, an understanding of what might need to be adjusted in the fashion show itself.

Then she spent a much-needed hour going through some accounting paperwork and paying a few bills. While she was online, an email popped into her inbox containing messages sent to her via the contact form on her website.

Two requests for more information. Cara picked up her cell phone immediately and dialed the first potential customer. The bride-to-be answered, a rarity as she usually had to play phone tag for a few days. Cara spent several minutes chatting with the woman about her upcoming wedding, hoping to put Yvette, the prospective customer, at ease.

This was one of her favorite parts of being a dress designer. The brides were always so eager to talk to anyone about what was sure to be the best day of their lives and Cara loved to hear every last detail, especially because she got a good, clear sense of what kind of person the woman was. It helped her visualize the perfect dress. Plus, Cara loved weddings period.

“The theme of your wedding sounds almost ethereal,” Cara commented after several minutes of prodding Yvette about the minutest details, even down to the favors. “I see you as the star of your own fairy tale, with a long train, lace bodice and sweetheart neckline. Stark white because you’ll want to stand out against the off-white lilies.”

Yvette sighed happily. “That sounds lovely. I knew you were the right one to create my dress when I saw that all your designs had princess names.”

Cara smiled at Yvette’s enthusiasm. “Was there a particular dress you liked in the online portfolio?”

Despite having nailed the high-level specifics a moment ago, much more went into the design than the train and color. They’d work through the details for several weeks before Cara picked up her shears.

“All of them. But I want something no one else has. A one-of-a-kind exclusive.”

“Absolutely. That’s no problem.” Exclusive dresses took longer because Cara didn’t have a set pattern, but any bride who asked for one never minded the wait. Or the cost.

True love paid the bills, but brides who wanted to keep up with other Houston brides put Cara in the black very early on.

Cara asked a few more follow-up questions and verified Yvette’s email address in order to send design mockups once Cara created them. She ended the call and realized she hadn’t once thought about her own halted wedding, nor felt the accompanying tug of sadness.

That was a vast improvement over the majority of the other calls she’d conducted in the course of the past eighteen months. It was a small triumph and she reveled in it for a moment.

She’d moved past it, once and for all. This business was hers and no one could take it away. Oddly, Keith had helped her begin viewing herself as a businesswoman, independent and in charge of her destiny. If she hadn’t splashed headfirst into this fling with him, no plan, no pressure, would she have gotten to this place?

It was a very interesting thought. Apparently Meredith was far smarter about matters of the heart than Cara had credited.

The second request for information listed a man’s name as the contact—Nick Anderson. Interesting. Cara dialed the referenced phone number, wondering if she’d be discussing a bride’s dress with the groom instead. There was always the unlikely possibility of one of her dresses ending up in a drag-queen revue. Either would be okay as long as the check cleared and her name was spelled right on any recommendations.

The call connected. “Ever After. Nick Anderson speaking.”

Cara’s tongue went numb. Ever After? As in the boutique retail outlet specializing in high-end wedding dresses—that Ever After?

“Um.” Cara cleared her throat. “This is Cara Chandler-Harris. I’m a wedding dress designer. You requested that I contact you through my website.”

“Yes, I did.” His voice warmed. “That was fast. I only did so a couple of hours ago. I’m unexpectedly planning to be at the Regent Resorts Bridal Expo in Grace Bay tomorrow and hoped to meet with you. Are you still participating?”

“I... Yes, of course. I’m already here actually.”

“Great. The storm delay caused a shuffle on our end, which is why I’m now attending, so I thought I’d verify.”

“Right.” Cara had been reduced to monosyllables. Not an auspicious start to...whatever this was. “What is the purpose of the meeting, if I may ask?”

“Well, it’s a little preliminary, but our focus at Ever After is changing. We’d like to discuss the possibility of featuring your dresses in our stores. I saw your name on the vendor list for the Expo and since I’d never heard of you, I looked up your work. I’m very impressed.”

The phone slipped from Cara’s hand and she scrambled to pick it up. “Thank you,” she squawked, her heart galloping a mile a minute.