- The Wedding Date
“If I had known that, I would have pulled that dress up long before we left the park. You are evil.”
She laughed and gasped all at the same time.
“I’m going to get you back for that sometime,” he said. “Just not right now.” He fell to his knees. Her fingers slid through his hair. All at once, her fingernails clenched against his scalp, and her whole body relaxed.
“My turn.” He stood up, pulled a condom out of his pocket, and pinned her arms against the wall over her head. “Hold on.”
He was so turned on from what had just happened, from the thought of her without underwear on all day, from those little noises she made, that he had no finesse. He heard the wall creak and the light fixtures shake, saw her breasts jiggle, felt her writhe beneath him and clench around him.
Her leg slid down his body, her arms fell around his waist, and they stood there, quiet and shuddering for a few minutes until their breathing slowed. God, her body felt good against his.
He kissed her cheek, her lips, and leaned his forehead against hers.
“I hadn’t planned that, but I’m not going to pretend I’m sorry.”
She laughed. He had maybe gotten addicted to that laugh. There was always so much joy in it. At the wedding, he’d heard her laugh from across the room a few times and each time had wanted to rush to her side to enjoy it. A few times he had.
“I’m not sorry, either. But . . . and I hate to say this . . . shouldn’t you head to the airport?”
He moved away from her reluctantly and pulled his pants up. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket to check the time.
“Shit. Yeah, damn it.”
She adjusted her dress as he buckled his belt, and they walked to her front door. She reached out to open the door, but he pushed it closed.
“Drew, you have to—”
He reached for her.
“I know. I just have to do this first.”
He kissed her, long and slow. He felt her relax against him and wanted to forget about going to the airport. He wanted to pick her up, get in that cozy-looking bed with her, and have a few more rounds, then tuck her against his side all night long. He pulled away from her with a sigh.
She kissed him on the cheek.
“I’m so glad I got stuck in that elevator with you,” she said.
After one last hard kiss on her lips, he raced out to the car and peeled away toward the freeway. Alexa collapsed against her front door, almost unable to believe what had just happened. What had happened over the past forty-eight hours.
She stumbled back to her bedroom and flopped on her bed, the stripes of her duvet cover blurring as she stared at it. Thirty minutes later she was in the same spot. She sat up and tried to pull herself together.
She’d known from the beginning that it was just one weekend and she’d never hear from him again. And it was a great weekend, punctuated by some very hot against-the-wall sex at the end there—she would never look at her bedroom wall the same way—so she should be cheerful, not maudlin. Alexa, snap out of it.
Her phone buzzed, and she reached for it, expecting it to be another text from Maddie.
Made my flight by the skin of my teeth!
She could feel that dreamy smile back on her face. Oh, the hell with it. She allowed herself that night to swoon and mope about this weekend before falling back to earth.
She texted back before she could overthink her response.
:) Glad you made it!
She should call Maddie and update her. Maddie had forced her to go through with the fake date in the first place, after all. She had to thank her for getting her to break her celibacy streak in an impressive fashion.
But not yet. Right now she needed to hug this whole weekend close to her chest and hold on to it tight before sharing it with anyone.
She puttered around the house, changed out of the dress he’d almost torn off her and into yoga pants and a tank top (and underwear), unloaded her dishwasher, went through the rest of the work emails that had come in this weekend, and made a to-do list for the workweek.
But all the time she thought about Drew. The way he’d laughed whenever she’d laughed; the way he kept touching her, like his hands belonged on her skin; the way he’d smiled at her in the middle of the night like he was so happy to have her there with him in his bed; the way he ate his burrito with tortilla chips as utensils and blushed when she teased him about it.
The whole time she hoped she’d get another text from him after he landed, or after he got home, but her phone stayed silent. She thought about texting him again, but what was she supposed to say? Had a great time having sex with you this weekend, can’t stop thinking about it was all she could think of, and that was a little too on the nose.
To keep herself occupied, she finally texted Maddie.
Fine you were right. Broke my streak with elevator guy. Sorry I didn’t check in before, was occupied with him all weekend ;) Going to bed now & turning off my phone, but I’ll give you all the details asap.
Hopefully that was breezy enough that it didn’t show she’d been moping over him for the past two hours. Maybe by the time she woke up the next day she would actually feel like that.
She didn’t turn off her phone, of course. She left it on all night, hoping he would text again. Which meant she saw Maddie’s exclamation-point-filled response, but there was nothing else from Drew.
When she rolled out of bed the next morning, she groaned. She was so sore all over that it felt like she’d gone to the world’s hardest yoga class right after running a 10K and right before a weight-lifting competition. Nope, just hours of athletic sex in all sorts of crazy positions.
She grinned in the hot shower; despite the body aches, she felt a lot better this morning than she had last night. She laughed when she saw finger-shaped bruises on her shoulders and hips and hickeys on her breasts. What was she, twenty-two? Except . . . she’d never had sex that good when she was twenty-two. She whistled as she pulled her robe on and started the coffee maker, and took three Advil along with her first sip of coffee.
She threw on a boatnecked long-sleeved shift dress that covered up all of her sex-related injuries and headed to work. Her boss always got in late on Monday mornings, thank God, so she would have a few hours of relative peace in the office to start the week.
Well, she got an hour of peace, until Maddie called at nine on the dot.
“You were going to call me when, exactly?”
She laughed and closed her office door.
Drew walked into the hospital that Monday morning and jumped into the elevator right before it closed, only to find his friend and fellow doctor Carlos Ibarra part of the crowd inside.
“Just the dude I was looking for,” Carlos said. “How was the wedding?”
A hell of a lot better than he’d thought it was going to be, that was for sure. Drew smirked.
Carlos’s eyebrows went up and he shook his head.
“Of course. Why would I have thought anything less of you?”
Drew noticed the interested glances sent their way and gave Carlos a warning look. Carlos, of course, exaggeratedly zipped his lips. Always discreet, that one.
They got off on the tenth floor, and Carlos followed him to his office, shutting the door behind them.
“Okay, now you can tell me. Found a woman in the elevator and spent all weekend banging her, huh?”
Drew relaxed into his desk chair and turned on his computer.
“Not quite all weekend.” He grinned again.
Carlos sat in the chair on the other side of his desk.
“Oh God, leave it to you. I can’t believe you picked up someone in an elevator and made her your plus-one to your ex’s wedding.”
“Oh, it was even worse. I forgot to tell you: I accidentally told Josh she was my girlfriend, so . . .”
Carlos leaned back in the chair.
“You, a girlfriend? So she had to fake it all night? How did you get her to do that?”
“Just my natural charm, I guess.”
Carlos’s phone buzzed and he glanced at it.
“Oh, I bet everyone at the wedding grilled the poor girl. I hope she was up to the pretense.”
Was she ever. Man, he really couldn’t have picked a better person to be stuck in an elevator with, could he?