Pure Abandon Read online

  Gwen leans back in her seat and grabs her glass. “Oh, Kathryn, he had women from all over the country flirting with him, and I know he flirted back. It was in his nature.”

  “Flirting is one thing. Attraction is fine as well. It’s natural.” Isn’t that what I’ve been telling myself? “But cheating is another.”

  “You’re right. As far as I know, your father was faithful ‘til the day he died. Even still, my point remains the same. A person needs to discover these things on their own. It’s a process.”

  The revelation of my cousin Mark’s marriage is beyond comprehension. What drives people to walk away from their marriages just like that? And Gabriel. He seems so cavalier with the whole conversation. Does he think people have the right to cheat on their spouses if the opportunity arises? Is he planning on having an affair himself? Has he had one already? The thoughts are spinning through my head a mile a minute.

  Gabriel shifts gears for the group and presents Gwen with her birthday present—a vintage jewelry box made of mirrored glass that can sit on her bedroom dresser. It will only hold about an eighth of her jewelry, but it’s glamorous and I knew she’d love it. And she does.

  After dinner, I take the dishes to load the dishwasher. I look over at my husband, who is still seated outside with Gwen, wearing khakis and a light-blue polo. I can see how many women would fall for my husband. I remember how easily I did.

  Running across the lawn at Towson University, my tote packed with textbooks and notepads, I had to rush across campus to make it to class in time.

  I was walking up the staircase outside Stephens Hall when, of all things, my bag broke, sending books, pens, wallet, keys… everything cascading down the stairs. I crouched down to start picking up the contents. A volley of students ran up and down the stairs, but no one cared to stop and help, except for him.

  “Here, let me get that for you.” A soft, warm hand reached over and grabbed a book from a step in front of me.

  Mortified, I tried to brush off the kind pedestrian. “Thank you, but it’s okay. I can get it,” I said, grabbing the book out of his hand while noting lean, muscular forearms. I allowed my eyes to travel up and get a good look at the stranger.

  He was six feet two with wavy dark hair and navy-blue eyes. With a perfect nose and broad shoulders, he looked like a Kennedy in that All-American kind of way. I had never seen a flawless face before. He was, for lack of better words, beautiful.

  A crisp, white three-button Henley outlined his strong arms and lean torso. His jeans hugged his hips and showed a brief hint of boxers as he leaned over. I took a second to wipe the drool from my lower lip.

  “Art major?” he asked, looking down at the text he picked up from the staircase. He flashed this jaw-dropping, Robert Redford grin.

  “Art history minor.” I clarified, eyeing the textbook on Venetian art in the sixteenth century. “Marketing major.” As if he really cared what my major was. He was just being nice to a girl who completely embarrassed herself in front of her peers.

  I glanced down at my watch realizing I was late for my class. “Thank you,” I said, grabbing the book from his hand. I ran up the stairs and spent the next hour thinking about the beautiful boy and his adorable smile.

  When class was dismissed, I grabbed my broken bag and carefully placed my belongings inside. I wrapped two arms around the tote and held it like a package. It was the only way I’d get it back to the dorm.

  Outside, I saw him standing by the exit where I’d left him. I braced myself, and my broken bag, and started across the quad. By bracing myself, I mean I put my head down and tried to make it across unnoticed. Unsuccessfully.

  “Hey!” he called out. “Let me help you with that.”

  I stopped in my tracks. Was he talking to me? Oh God, he is.

  “No, it’s okay. I got this.” I held my bag tighter and tried not to look back.

  I was halfway across the quad when his long legs strode fast behind me. “Wait,” he called out. “Can I least know your name?”

  Oh man. The beautiful blue-eyed boy wanted to know my name. This guy had heartbreak written all over his face.

  “No.” The word rushed out of my mouth and my feet rushed faster. My lips, however, couldn’t stop smiling.

  By the time the dishes are loaded and the counters are clean, my mind has wandered far away with thoughts of extramarital affairs.

  “You are uncharacteristically quiet tonight.” Gabriel comes up behind me and places his arms around my waist. I lean back into the comfort of his body.

  “Just thinking.” I turn to my iPod on the counter and lower the volume.

  “Thinking about what?” he breathes into my hair. “You only play Sia when you’re melancholy.” His voice is smooth with concern.

  I rest the back of my head in the crook of his neck, and let out a breath that makes my lips vibrate. “Why do you think people cheat?”

  Gabriel smiles into my hair and shakes his head. “I’m not answering that.”

  I lean my face toward his. “Guilty?”

  “Absolutely not,” he says, placing a soft kiss on the back of my head. “But I don’t want you getting any ideas.”

  “I promise I won’t accuse you of cheating on me if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Gabriel exhales and releases me. I spin around and prop my back against the sink.

  “Why do people cheat?” He crosses his arms and runs his index finger across his lips, pondering the question. “Why do people cheat?” he repeats. “Well, I can’t speak for myself because I’ve never cheated…”

  I toss a dishrag at him, which he dodges, and lets out a small laugh. “Yes, we’ve established that, smartass.”

  Gabriel makes his way around the center island toward the refrigerator. “Well, there’s this one guy in my office…”

  “Who?”

  “I’m not telling you.”

  “Why not?”

  Opening the refrigerator door, Gabriel grabs a beer and twists off the top. “Because you’ll start eyeing up everyone I work with because you know their personal lives. And some of these people I work with are good people. I don’t need you hating them because of a story I told you.” He looks at me with that you know I’m right look.

  “Fine.” I roll my eyes.

  “Okay, as I was saying…” Gabriel waits for me to interrupt, but I don’t. “There is this guy at my office who has been having a long-standing relationship with another woman who works in our building because, as he says, his wife hasn’t had sex with him since his kids were born.”

  “How old are his kids?”

  Gabriel pauses to think. “The youngest is… seven?” He’s clearly guessing.

  No sex in seven years? I can’t imagine not being intimate with someone you love for that long. “That still doesn’t give him cause to cheat.”

  Putting a hand in his pocket, Gabriel leans against the refrigerator and takes a swig of his beer. “I can see how a lack of intimacy can cause someone to stray. How would you feel if I stopped having sex with you?”

  “I doubt that would ever happen.”

  Gabriel flashes his Robert Redford grin. “Well, I could just close up shop one day. You never know.”

  I hate that he’s being so offhanded. Doesn’t he know I’m very sensitive on the topic? Perhaps he doesn’t since we’ve never discussed it before. We’re just coming out of the honeymoon years of our marriage. Before this, everything was fun and exciting. Now, as my mother has said, marriage takes work. Whatever that means.

  And let’s be honest. Gabriel would never close up shop. I could burst out laughing just thinking about it. He sees my reaction and raises his eyebrow, confused by why I would find that comical.

  “And then there’s the case of a woman I work with who—”

  “A woman!” I can’t contain my surprise.

  “Yes, Kat, even women cheat.” He patronizes.

  I scrunch my face at him. “I know. I just wasn’t expecting you to
know a woman who cheats on her husband.” I lean onto the kitchen island and gaze at my wedding ring. “What is her reasoning?”

  “Apparently, her husband let himself go. He won’t go dancing anymore or even to dinner. She refuses to divorce because of the kids. And I only know this because she has slept with a good friend of mine at the office on more than one occasion. And he told me her reasons.”

  “And what are his reasons for sleeping with her? Is he married too?” Either Gabriel works with a bunch of heathens or the law profession is full of more sinners than saints.

  “No, he’s single. Not everyone is having an affair.” When I look up, Gabriel is leaning over the other side of the island, toward me. He grabs my hand and gives my palm a warm kiss. “You know what we need?”

  “What?”

  “Date night,” he says into my skin. “Why don’t we go to that exhibit you want to see? Just me and you.”

  My chest feels like it has been lightened from a thousand worries. “I’d love that.”

  He places my hand on top of his and draws tiny circles on the inside of my wrist. “You know you have nothing to worry about with me, right?”

  “I know.” And I do. In the years we’ve been together, I never took Gabriel to be a philanderer. It’s just not his style.

  And just for validation, after Gwen has retired for the night and Jackson is sound asleep, I plan to take my husband to bed and make sure he doesn’t ever feel the need to stray. But after I change Jackson and rock him to sleep, I enter the room to see Gabriel passed out on our bed.

  Maybe tomorrow.

  The room is dark except for dim lighting coming from the credenza and the lights of the skyline beaming in the small space. I stand in my office, facing the windowed wall, looking out onto the Empire State Building.

  A body approaches me from behind, tall and strong, the presence overwhelming. His hands start on my shoulders and glide down my arms, down to my fingertips. He takes my hands in his as he uses his mouth to tilt my head and brushes my neck with his lips, slowly caressing it with his tongue.

  His left hand travels down my arm, taking the spaghetti strap of my dress along for the ride. His right arm follows suit with the other strap. My dress pools to the floor. I’m wearing nothing underneath. He is naked behind me and I can feel his form against my skin. The ridges of his chest, the strength of his thighs, and his rock-hard erection. His solid body presses against mine as his mouth continues to caress my neck. His hands circle around my waist and drift south to my thighs, stroking the inside up and down, making me wet from just the proximity. His fingertips get dangerously close without touching yet make a promise to be back.

  I moan in pleasure. I want more.

  Does he know how wet he makes me?

  He will soon.

  His mouth caresses my shoulder as his hands graze slightly over my nipples, tempting, teasing and causing me to shiver with pleasure. I press my back into his groin and beg with my body to be taken. My core throbs with anticipation.

  I want it.

  I need it.

  His hand wraps around my neck, holding me still as the other travels back down to my sex. I whimper at the feel of his hands hovering just outside my entrance.

  I yearn for it… crave it. I feel a burning inside my belly and it builds bigger and bigger, higher and higher. I can feel it…almost taste it…

  I pop up suddenly.

  Oh my God! Did I just have a sex dream?

  It was so real, so vivid, and so… delicious. I felt every yearning and pleasurable movement. I’ve never had a dream like that before. It was so lifelike. I want to go back to sleep and continue. I nearly exploded in my sleep. Who would have known my body could do that?

  Do many women have dreams like that? I should ask Malory at lunch tomorrow. Oh, she will have a field day with that dream. She lives for stuff like this. I can certainly share the vivid imagery of that room, the sensation, the feeling of how he felt beside me.

  Maybe I shouldn’t tell Malory. I could hold on to this story. While I wouldn’t mind telling her about the dream, she will want to know one major detail that I’m not willing to share.

  No, she’ll think something is up. I know people are already trying to figure out the new girl at the office. Malory and I are friends, but who else is she friends with that she might share my story with? And if someone else knows, who will they tell? I know how office gossip goes. It’s hard to pass up.

  No, I won’t tell anyone about my dream tonight. I will not tell anyone I had the most mind-blowing sexual experience in my sleep or that the man who left me wanton and begging for more was Alexander Asher.

  I’ve spent a good part of my morning avoiding most people in the office by having meetings outside of the building. I know everyone heard my obnoxious outburst at Asher on Friday and are all gossiping about it. They’re trying to figure out how I got into it with the big boss. That’s what offices do. Even I’ve been privy to my fair share of water cooler conversations.

  Reluctantly, I told Malory I’d meet her for lunch, so we take a seat in a corner booth at Café Dell’arte. I know she wants to dish on some office gossip. My concern is I’m the main course.

  “You seem to be fitting right in.” Malory takes a bite of her salad, looking exquisite in a sheer black button-down with matching camisole underneath. Her skinny black pants show off her exquisite figure.

  “I can’t say last week was easy. Sparring with Heather is no easy feat,” I murmur. Just thinking about how I won’t have to face her every day calms my nerves, but having to deal with Asher is another story. I don’t know what is worse.

  “I heard Heather isn’t the only one you’re sparring with.” Her teeth crunch down on a ripe cherry tomato.

  Here it goes.

  “Wow…” I pretend to look at my nonexistent watch. “That took you all of fifteen minutes!”

  Malory sips her wine and gives me a quizzical look through the glass. “The man is unnerving. I know. I’ve worked with him for the last three years, since he bought Erik’s company. It doesn’t hurt he’s irresistibly handsome.” She pauses to gauge my reaction.

  I turn my head to the side and take a sip from my water glass as I sneak a look around the restaurant. I know she’s reading my expression, so I’m trying to act as cool as the cucumber in my salad.

  “Oh, come on, you prude. He’s delicious and you know it. I thought you knew who he was when you took the job, but when I found out you’d never seen him before, I was dying to know what your reaction would be.”

  “And what was my reaction?” I ask.

  Malory lowers her eyes, her brow perked up as she speaks slowly, almost intrigued by what she’s about to say. “You absolutely fell apart.”

  I shake my head. “Seriously, Malory. I had a fight with the boss, but now everything is resolved.”

  I’m dying to tell Malory about what really went down Friday. From the car ride to the argument and the roses that were sent to my office, it was the craziest day I’ve ever had at any job, and she is the person I want to talk to most.

  Malory and I used to have a great rapport where we would gossip about everything and anything that happened at work. Back then, we were colleagues. And while she always held a position above me, she was never this high on the company food chain. Nattering with the vice president about my own personal indiscretions is a huge no-no.

  I’m also dying to probe Malory for information, but I don’t want her to know I’m interested in anything having to do with Alexander Asher. Instead, I change the course of the conversation.

  “So how is it going soliciting advertisers?”

  She kicks her head back, shrugging her shoulder. “Easy as can be. Once they hear the Asher name, they start opening up their wallets. We have big names acting as underwriters for the concert in the park. I’m trying to work a deal with some silent donors for the gala you’re putting together, but that’s going a little slower than planned.”

  “I can help yo
u with that,” I offer, while the waiter comes over to refill our water glasses. I thank him and listen to Malory.

  “You have enough to do, you little go-getter. Did you see Heather’s face when you came up with the idea for two events? I was slightly rooting for Asher to give you the concert in the park just to piss her off.”

  “Oh, thank God he didn’t. She is one scary woman.” I see my “in” for information. “Did something happen between her and Alexander Asher?”

  Malory purses her lips and nods, eyeing me up. “You are a smart girl. I was waiting to see how long until you had everyone pegged. No, as far as I know, she hasn’t gone to bed with him… yet. That doesn’t mean she can’t try. The girl has got it bad!” She lets out an exaggerated groan.

  I expel a sigh of my own. I hadn’t realized I was even holding my breath. The fact I’m relieved to know Asher and Heather aren’t together is disturbing.

  It is a pretty big office, though. There are plenty of other women there. “Has anyone in the office slept together?” I sound like a schoolgirl.

  Malory takes another sip of wine and talks, holding the glass in her right hand, speaking matter-of-factly. “Kevin in production and Trish have been dating for a while. And Gretchen and Harvey had a thing going, but that’s over.”

  I nearly spit out my drink at the thought of tied up Gretchen getting it on with... “Heavy Harvey!”

  “Oh my God, you have a nickname for him!”

  I flush with embarrassment. How rude and juvenile of me. I can’t believe I said that out loud.

  Malory doesn’t seem insulted. “I must say that’s a perfect name for him. And the answer is yes, Gretchen and ‘Heavy Harvey,’ as you call him, got down and dirty at a Christmas party two years ago. She was mortified when everyone found out, but it turned out she kinda liked him.”

  “I shouldn’t have called him that. I feel bad,” I murmur into my salad.

  “Don’t. He’s a fat ass. He’s been grossing me out for years,” Malory says, and I cringe at her words. I said he was heavy, not gross. The man is actually really sweet.