Drew divided his attention between his computer and the door to his apartment. His body had been humming with anticipation ever since he received London’s text. But he needed to finish typing up his notes on the request for proposal one of their managing partners sent for review before he could focus on tonight’s activities. The RFPs from a chain of urgent care clinics based out of Kansas City had come in earlier this week, and if Trident was chosen to evaluate their management system and come up with best practices, it would be their largest project yet.
And further confirmation that leaving the Meacham Group had been the right move. Although, the fact that he no longer chewed antacids like candy was all the confirmation Drew needed to know that leaving his old hedge fund had been the best—the only—choice. Whoever said money can’t buy you peace of mind knew what the hell they were talking about.
The knock on the door came just as he hit send on his email to Melissa, the partner taking the lead on the urgent care project. Drew closed his laptop and set it aside before quickly making his way to the door.
He opened it, prepared to trade barbs with London, per their usual twisted brand of foreplay. But that changed the moment he took in her expression.
He stepped out of the way so that she could enter the apartment.
“It doesn’t look like you’re here for what I thought,” Drew said.
“I am very much here for the reason you think I am,” she said. “I’ve had a rough evening. Mindless, blow-my-back-out sex is exactly what I need right now.”
“I can deliver that,” Drew said. “But if I’m being honest, I’m not sure you can handle it just yet. Not based on what I see here.”
She laughed. “You can just come out and tell me I look like shit, Drew.”
“You don’t.” She looked amazing, as always. But it was blatantly obvious that something was troubling her. The fact that she went to his kitchen instead of the living room or straight to the bedroom solidified it. Drew followed her, stopping at the fridge to get her a bottle of water before continuing to where she rested her backside against the kitchen counter.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the bottle from him. “I wish I could have something stronger, but I still have to drive home.”
“Or…”
“I’m not spending the night.”
“I have a fully stocked bar. It could be at your disposal.”
“Stop trying to tempt me,” she said. She dropped her head back and stared up at the ceiling, releasing an exhausted, frustrated breath.
“What’s wrong, London?”
“I’m a shitty big sister,” she said.
Drew’s head snapped back. “You have a sibling?”
She nodded, uncapping her water and taking a sip. “Two sisters and a brother. All much younger than me. I’m mistaken for their mother whenever I bring them somewhere.” She tipped her head to the side. “I wonder if that’s subconsciously why I don’t spend as much time with them as I should.”
“If you don’t mind some unsolicited advice, try not to psychoanalyze yourself when you’re in this kind of mood. Nothing good can come of it.”
Her lips curved with a teasingly inquisitive smile. “You sound as if you speak from experience.”
“You don’t know the half of it, Dr. Kelley.” He walked over to the built-in wine rack and chose a bottle of Shiraz. “I’m assuming these are your dad’s kids?”
Another nod. “Yeah,” she said, focused on his movements as he uncorked the wine. “My dad went through half of Austin’s female population before finally settling on one of the loveliest people you will ever meet. I honestly like his wife more than I like him.” She shook her head, as if knocking herself out of a daze. “I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. I didn’t come here to talk about my family. I came here for sex.”
“You’ll still get the sex,” Drew said. “But it’s obvious you need to talk about whatever is bothering you.”
And the fact that she was talking to him about it made Drew happier than he thought possible. He slipped two wineglasses from the stainless steel rack and filled them a third of the way.
“I told you I can’t drink,” London said.
“You’ll be here long enough for the effects of one glass of wine to wear off.” He handed her a glass. “Or, you can just spend the night and drink the rest of the bottle.”
Her smile broadened. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Nope,” he answered. “Admit it, London. I’m growing on you.”
“Like an annoying weed,” she said with a snort.
He laughed. This was the kind of connection and ease he’d been craving with her. But Drew wasn’t letting her off this quickly. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, which were still clouded with worry.
“So, why do you think you’re a shitty big sister?” he asked. He angled his head toward the living room, gesturing for her to follow him. Drew grabbed the wine bottle, but he wouldn’t push her to have any more if she really didn’t want any.
She settled on the sofa with one leg folded underneath her. The way her dark jeans stretched across her inner thigh made him instantly hard.
Goddamn, the things this woman did to him!
Resting her elbow on the back of the sofa, she cradled the side of her head in her upturned palm. Drew itched to reach over and drag his fingers through those thick coils. He knew how soft they would feel against his skin.
“I’m not winning any Big Sister of the Year awards because I can’t tell you the last time I saw my sisters and brother. Halloween, maybe?” she said, taking a sip of wine. “I cleaned out the candy aisle at CVS and plied them with enough guilt chocolate to last a year. But Nina wasn’t even there at the time. She was at a Halloween party.”
“Nina is the oldest?” he asked.
She nodded. “And she’s…gotten herself into a bit of trouble.” She gulped down even more wine. “My stepmom, April, walked in on her taking nude selfies.”
“Oh, shit.” Drew said. “How old?”
“Fourteen.”
He released a low whistle as he shook his head. “I can’t imagine being that age with the technology available these days. I think back to high school and I’m grateful that the iPhone wasn’t released until the summer after we graduated.”
London’s brows creased, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Are we really that old?”
“Yep. My uncle Elias bought me one my freshman year at Howard. I thought I was hot shit because of that phone, but never once considered using it to send nudes of myself to anyone. Or ask someone for nudes. Now it’s commonplace.”
“I’m just hoping April really did stop her in time. I’ve heard too many horror stories of what can happen when a girl sends pics to one guy and, the next thing you know, he’s sent them to half the school.” She gripped her curly hair tight. “It only takes seconds to become the girl everyone is talking about, and for all the wrong reasons.”
“Technology,” Drew reiterated. “It makes it so easy to turn one stupid mistake into a disaster that can follow you around forever.”
“I still can’t believe Nina would be so irresponsible. Even at fourteen, I never would have done something like this.”
“I didn’t know you when you were fourteen, but at sixteen you were more mature than some adults I know. Don’t compare your sister or any other teenager to the kind of kid you were at that age.”
“You’re right,” she said. “I have to remember that when I see her.” She sent him a pained look. “I told The Mothers I would talk to her.”
“The Mothers?”
“My mom and my stepmom. They’re sort of best friends. Don’t ask,” she said, draining the rest of the wine from her glass. She eyed the bottle he’d set on the coffee table, but then she shook her head. “Nope. Not falling for it.”
Drew shrugged off his disappointment as he finished his own glass. Before he could lower it from his mouth, London lifted the wine stem from his fingers and set both his glass and hers on the coffee table. Then she crossed her left leg over both of his legs and straddled his lap.
Drew’s hands immediately sought her waist. He held her with a firm grip, his thumbs slipping underneath the hem of her clingy black top.
London locked her wrists behind his head. “I didn’t come here for wine or to talk about my family,” she said. “I came here to, well, come. And I would like to come over and over again. You up for making that happen, Mr. Sullivan?”
“I’ll repeat what I texted you, Dr. Kelley. You never have to ask that question.”
She attacked him with a brutal kiss, her mouth eager and demanding as she plunged her tongue past his lips with punishing force. Drew pulled her shirt over her head and made quick work of getting rid of her jeans. He would give anything for just a few minutes to take in the sight of her body, but all he got was a glimpse of the lacy pastel peach panties and bra against her rich brown skin before London had taken both off.
She helped him with his clothes, working on his pants while he unbuttoned his shirt. In minutes they were both naked with London once again straddling his thighs. She grabbed a condom from the drawer of the table next to the sofa—they’d learned over the past week to store condoms in every corner of the apartment—and ripped open the foil packet. Drew helped her roll it over his erection, and then she moved his hand out of the way so that she could grip his dick and guide it inside.
They cried out with matching groans as she planted herself on top of him. Her head fell back, exposing the slope of her neck to his mouth as her hips undulated against him. Drew captured her waist again, his fingers sinking into her flesh. He attempted to take control of her movements but soon relented, letting her set the pace.
“How are you…so fucking…good at this,” London said between gasps.
“Practice,” Drew replied.
She released a breathless laugh. “If you keep in touch with any of your other practice chicks, tell them I said thanks.”
Drew dipped his head and captured one of her nipples between his lips, just to shut her up. It did the trick. She clasped her arms around his head, holding him in place as she continued to ride him. She began to pump harder, but Drew slowed them down. He wasn’t ready for this to end just yet. He knew from experience that the moment she found her release, she would be out of here.
Instead, he pulled out and lifted her off his lap. Standing, he turned her around, taking both her hands and placing them on the back of the couch. Then he grabbed hold of his dick and eased into her from behind.
London let out a cry, her hips bucking as she pushed against him, meeting his forward thrusts. He palmed her stomach with one hand and gripped her hair with the other. The sight of her back arching was so damn erotic he nearly came, but still he held off.
He spun London around again and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pointed to the bedroom.
“In there,” she said.
“You’re so bossy,” Drew said.
“And you don’t mind it one bit.”
“Hell no, I don’t,” he replied, carrying her into his bedroom.
Once in bed, they went through another two condoms before finally collapsing in a heap of twisted sheets and tangled limbs. Drew rolled off her and onto his side. He listened for the moment when she would climb out of bed and get dressed. She never waited more than a few minutes after they were done to gather her things and leave him with that strange mix of blissful satisfaction and frustration.
Yet, every time he worked up the resolve to tell her that this sex-only arrangement was no longer enough for him, something stopped him. It wasn’t just something that stopped him. He didn’t want to risk her leaving his bed and never coming back. The pleasure he derived from the hours spent exploring her body far outweighed any disappointment he endured once she went home.
Drew froze when he realized that at least five minutes had passed and London hadn’t left the bed. He pushed himself up on his elbow and looked over at her. She lay staring up at the ceiling with her hands clasped over her stomach. The sheet had fallen just far enough down her body so that one taut nipple peeked out over the edge of it.
And just like that, he started getting hard again. But the look on her face told him that sex was no longer on her mind.
“What’s wrong?” Drew asked.
She glanced at him, then back at the ceiling. “I’m regretting not eating the pound cake.”
Not what he’d expected to hear. “London, what are you talking about?”
“My mom offered me pound cake after dinner. I’m sorry I didn’t take her up on it. Don’t get me wrong, the sex was fantastic, but pound cake is pound cake.”
Drew shrugged. “Yeah, I get it. It’s hard to compete with cake.” He nudged his head toward the door. “I have a couple of those fancy cupcakes left over from today’s meeting.”
She tore the sheet off her and scrambled out of the bed. A couple of minutes later, she returned carrying a pink-and-brown box. She climbed back into bed and sat up with her back against the headboard and the box of cupcakes on her lap.
Even though he’d spent over a week seeing this body in varying stages of nakedness, Drew struggled to maintain his composure at the sight of all that smooth, flawless skin. He still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t a dream, because in what version of real life did he find himself in bed watching a naked London Kelley lick icing from a cupcake?
She held up a yellow one topped with white frosting and sparkling sugar. “It’s not my mom’s pound cake, but it’ll do.”
She took a huge bite, leaving a smear on her cheek. Drew used it as an opportunity to taste her, tenderly kissing the sweet frosting from her skin.
She edged her head back and stared at him, her gaze roving over his face. Their eyes locked moments before she leaned forward and claimed his mouth with a soft, tentative caress of her lips.
The fiery, demanding kisses they’d previously shared had been fueled by lust and need, but this felt different. It felt like it meant something, like more than just another element of the physical act they’d been engaging in over the past week and a half.
The lack of heat and hunger added to his sense that things were changing between them, that her feelings were shifting. The cautious, thoughtful exploration of her tongue as she gently traced a path along the seam of his lips filled Drew with a hope he was almost afraid to let materialize.
She moved the cupcakes to the bedside table and brought both her hands up to cradle his face, kissing him deeper as she did so. They changed position, with Drew sitting up against the headboard and London flush against his chest.
But when she reached over for the box of condoms, Drew stopped her. He shook his head.
“Not yet,” he said. “I just want to kiss you.”
He held his breath as an array of emotions flashed across her face: confusion, suspicion, and finally acceptance. He welcomed the flood of relief that flowed through him as she yielded to his kiss. He slowed them down, keeping the pressure light, giving her the chance to pull away.
She didn’t. Neither did she push for more. They remained in that safe, intimate, unhurried place, leisurely exploring each other’s mouths with sweet, tender kisses. The kind of kisses that couldn’t be disregarded as detached, heat-of-the-moment acts of passion. There was something more here, something intensely personal.
Something undeniable.
This was no longer just two people hooking up; this was two people on the precipice of something deeper, something more profound than casual sex.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Drew Sullivan,” London whispered against his lips.
“Kissing you?” he asked.
She pulled just far enough back to look at him. “I’m still not your friend,” she said, but the relaxed humor in her voice belied her declaration.
“I think you are.” Drew shifted his hips, stroking her inner thigh with his dick. London released a moan and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re ready to accept it or not,” Drew murmured as he went in for another kiss. “We’re friends.”