Plus One

  “D-Duncan…” His name is barely audible as I pant and gasp.

  “Keep watching.”

  My DD breasts are doing what Duncan promised, bouncing with each penetration, my nipples dark, hard, and tight.

  I keep my fingers splayed as he pulls back on my stomach while at the same time pounding me forward. It’s hard and fast, aggression and love, predatory and possessive. My walls clench as he continues the sexy assault.

  “Fuck,” he calls out as he pulls my body tighter toward him, moving me in sync with each thrust. In and out he pounds, our bodies uniting as I teeter on the balls of my feet and my knees grow weak.

  Tighter and tighter, my core constricts as his speed increases.

  I’ve never had sex standing or in a shower.

  I’ve never watched as I was taken, completely incinerated, and made whole.

  It’s hot and dirty, and I’m loving every minute.

  Duncan’s breathing quickens as he continues to wind me higher.

  Words escape my lips, curses and sounds. I recognize the echo of my own voice, but I can’t make out what I’m saying until my entire being erupts. Like free falling, I float as Duncan’s curses replace mine, his vigorous thrusts increasing in speed as he continues to move within me.

  Totally spent, my body relaxes in his grip until all at once, I’m taken by surprise. Out of nowhere another orgasm erupts, stronger than the others. My fingers blanch as my nails claw at the tile.

  “O-oh!”

  It’s as if a fuse that had been forgotten unexpectedly ignited. My body is nothing more than an intricate circuit of explosions, detonating every nerve. I fight for air, for stability, for a simple understanding of up from down. My entire being is ablaze with the most satisfying fire when all at once, Duncan roars. A deep rumble echoes through the bath as he delivers one last thrust.

  Our deep connection severs as he collapses over my back, his hand reaching out to the wall while his other arm holds me safely upright against his chest.

  Slowly my eyes open and look down. I stare at our feet, his larger ones on either side of mine. My gaze moves back to our reflection. And then our eyes meet.

  I don’t want to see him through the door. I want more.

  Within his arms, I turn to face him. Through veiled eyes I scan his wide thighs, still impressive erection, then up his toned abs until our eyes meet for real.

  My smile grows as his does too.

  “Just so you know, Mr. Willis, I’ve never done that before on a second date.”

  Duncan kisses me gently, a contrast to the way we’ve just made love. “I believe we’ve begun our third.”

  “Whew,” I say, “my reputation is still intact.”

  “Your reputation is safe with me.”

  “I don’t know? You have quite the reputation yourself.”

  He smiles his cocky grin. “Have I lived up to it?”

  “Exceedingly, Mr. Willis.”

  He kisses my nose again. “I meant what I said, Kimbra. I don’t care about the rumors you’ve heard. And you don’t need to worry about me cheating. I never have. I won’t. I’ve wanted you for a long time. Now that I have you, I won’t let you go.”

  “I’m yours,” I say, repeating what he’d said.

  “And I’m yours.” He quirks his grin. “If you’ll put up with me.”

  I glance from his sexy face down to his now-tamed, but no less impressive cock. “That’s a mighty big order, but I think I can handle it.”

  “Oh, beautiful, you can handle it anytime you want.”

  LEANING BACK IN the chair, I shake my head, slowly trying to digest Mike’s words while staring at the employee file laid out before us. The picture churns my stomach. I didn’t know her name. Now I do.

  Wrongful termination?

  “She hired an attorney?” I ask, ensuring I heard my best friend correctly.

  “Yes. The paperwork came today.”

  “New York is an at-will state. I’m sure that Eric had reason for her termination.” I look over the notes, the claims of sexual advances by various employees, the last being made by a Maxwell Knight. “This seems pretty cut and dried. Why would an attorney take this on?”

  Mike takes off his glasses, massages his temples, and leans over the conference table. So far, we are discussing this strictly amongst ourselves. We want to get a grip on the situation before bringing in other voices. The churning in my stomach bubbles like a cauldron knowing that one of the voices that will be brought in on this case is Kimbra’s.

  It’s been over a month and a half since I was her plus-one at Scarlett’s wedding. Over a month since Shana moved to London. It may seem like I’m moving quickly, but I’ve spent most of that time presenting my case for why Kimbra should officially move in with me. She’s at my place or I’m at hers almost every night.

  It isn’t like we can’t afford it, but maintaining two residences is unnecessary.

  “Duncan, there’s more. Carla Toney is claiming that the two of you had a relationship. She’s claiming that HR acted in a retaliatory manner.” He hands me another paper. “She’s specifically named Kimbra, citing the relationship the two of you have as grounds for her accusations.”

  Anger fills my chest. “That is ridiculous.”

  “You never?” He narrows his gaze. “This is me. Tell me the truth.”

  Slapping my hand on the table, I spin out of the chair as I stand. “I didn’t even know her fucking name.”

  “And that’s going to help us? The attorney is asking for surveillance tapes from our security department.”

  I begin a small trek as I pace behind my chair. “It wasn’t…” It’s my turn to massage my temples. “She offered. I didn’t turn her down—”

  “Of course you—”

  “I didn’t turn her down,” I interrupt. “But nothing happened. She’s the one in the bathroom.”

  Mike’s eyes grow wide. “The one that Kimbra heard?”

  I nod dejectedly as I collapse back in the chair.

  Twice in the last six weeks, Kimbra and I have gotten together with Mike and Kelli. The last time was at Mike and Kel’s house. They all love Kimbra, even the kids. And they couldn’t be happier that I’ve finally allowed someone into my life, someone to get close. It’s new and exciting in a way I never imagined. I love introducing her to those people who are close to me. Having her with me in my world is as rewarding as being in hers.

  But now the look of disappointment on Mike’s face is like a punch to my already-twisted gut.

  “I don’t want to include her in this,” I say.

  “She’s already included. She’s been named by Ms. Toney’s attorney.”

  “What do they want? What are they asking for?”

  “Not her job back. They’re asking for damages, claiming that her termination is in retaliation for her involvement with you.” Mike squints as he scans the pages. “…and there’s something about a previous relationship with a Mr. Cole.”

  “Whose previous relationship?”

  Mike twists uncomfortably in his seat as he puts his glasses back on and looks closer at the pages. “Damn, Duncan. This isn’t my place.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It says that Ms. Toney and Mr. Cole’s relationship interfered with Kimbra and Mr. Cole’s recent association. And then, fast-forward to when Kimbra found out about you and Ms. Toney, she pursued the termination of Ms. Toney. Ms. Toney claims that other similar allegations have gone uninvestigated, but because of Kimbra’s vengeful grudge, the unsubstantiated case involving Mr. Maxwell was pushed and resulted in her wrongful termination.”

  My mind is awhirl. Mr. Cole. “Who the fuck is Mr. Cole? What is recent?”

  “I don’t know what they mean by recent. I did however have Sara pull up Mr. Cole’s file.” Mike hands me another paper. “Timothy Cole, still employed by Buchanan and Willis in distribution…”

  I stop listening as I realize that Mr. Cole isn’t someone Kimbra has seen recent
ly. He was her date at the company Christmas party. He’s the jerk who cheated on her on New Year’s Eve. He’s the one her family expected at the wedding.

  The connections pop into place like magnets on a toy train.

  Timothy Cole cheated on Kimbra with Carla Toney. Carla Toney made a play for me. I made a play for Kimbra. Kimbra and I are together and Carla… “This is bullshit. Plain, unadulterated bullshit.”

  “Back to their evidence,” Mike says. “If we supply them with security footage from late May, what will they see?”

  My lips form a straight line as I cross my arms over my chest. “I already told you this. She’d been offering for some time. I’d refused. Until… that morning, I was frustrated with more than a few things. Seeing Kimbra in the coffee shop had me unsettled. I accepted Carla’s invitation to the bathroom.” It is the first time I’ve told the story with her name inserted.

  “There are cameras outside the stalls.”

  I let out an exasperated breath. “She took me out. Is that what you want to know? My dick is on tape. She never got it in her mouth. Fuck, I don’t think I was even hard, not really. I was thinking about Kimbra, not her… Carla…” I force myself to say her name for the second time. “And then I heard the sound of a woman’s whimper. If I got hard, that was when it happened.

  “But then all hell broke loose. She asked if anyone was there. We closed up shop and got the hell out of there.”

  Shaking his head, Mike asks, “Not before seeing the shoes?”

  Despite the heated discussion, my grin returns. “I fucking love those red shoes.”

  “We need to let Eric know what’s happening. He’s the manager in charge of human resources. Even if we agree to the demands for damages, our legal team will need to follow up with him.”

  “Damages? What kind of damages?”

  “I think, despite the surveillance,” Mike says, giving me another look. “…we could put enough holes in their case.”

  “And put Kimbra through all of that? No. We have insurance to pay this shit. I just want it gone.”

  Mike takes a deep breath and for the first time since our meeting began, smiles. “After all these years, it’s nice to think that maybe you’re over that bullshit.”

  “As long as there are no cameras in my office, we’re good.”

  “Christ, Duncan, put a ring on her finger and at least make it legal.”

  “You know, for the first time, that doesn’t seem like a bad idea.”

  As Mike collects the papers, he says, “I’ll set up a meeting tomorrow with legal and Eric. Let’s get this settled before it goes any further.”

  “I know I don’t say it enough, but thanks, man.”

  “No. Don’t thank me. All of this, and I don’t mean this legal bullshit, I mean all of this, Buchanan and Willis, is because of your drive. My life and Kel’s is because—”

  “Because you’ve kept a tight leash on me.”

  His laughter fills the room. “Fuck, I just had a vision of Kimbra holding that leash.”

  “Not quite my thing, but I’m always up for new challenges.”

  “That’s been the problem, man. But now it’s her problem.”

  “I haven’t heard her complaining.”

  “See you tomorrow.” Mike reaches out and grabs my arm. “This place isn’t that big. Rumors fly and people talk. Don’t you think your involvement in this lawsuit would sound better coming from you? Doesn’t Kimbra deserve that?”

  “She deserves that and more. Besides, you know that I don’t do secrets.”

  Mike nods as we head our separate directions.

  I LET MYSELF in to Kimbra’s apartment with the key Shana left behind. It isn’t like I took it. Well, I did, but with Kimbra’s permission. My hope is to find her in some compromising position, perhaps with a glass of moscato and a bathtub full of bubbles.

  Hearing noises from her bedroom, I lock the door behind me and make my way down the hall. She has this great headboard and there’s always her old vibrator in the bedside stand. My mind fills with ideas guaranteed to drive her nuts before we find something for dinner.

  I know what I’m hungry for.

  As I turn the corner, I stop dead in my tracks. Kimbra’s eyes are red and she’s pulling clothes from her dresser, filling a small suitcase.

  “What the hell is happening?”

  Her entire body quakes as her eyes close and she sinks to the corner of her mattress. “I-I… tell… I… need… you were busy. I told Eric.”

  Rushing to her, I fall to my knees. “Told Eric what?” That fucker. If he said something to her first, we’ll have another termination on the books at Buchanan and Willis.

  “Duncan, I can’t stay. I have to go back to Indiana.”

  “What are you talking about? If Eric told you about the lawsuit, it’s not an issue. We’re meeting with legal tomorrow. The whole thing is bullshit anyway.” I wipe away another tear from her cheek with the pad of my thumb. “You don’t have to leave. This isn’t going to affect your job.”

  Kimbra sits taller. “Lawsuit? I have no idea what you’re talking about. My mom called me late this afternoon. I told Jorge to have you call me.”

  “I didn’t see Jorge. I was in a hurry to get to you. He wasn’t at his desk, and I didn’t check in with him before I left. Your mom?” Panic takes root. “What? What happened? Why do you need to go to Indiana?”

  “Duncan, it’s Grandma Helen…”

  MY HEART RACES and my skin feels cold and clammy as my shoes squeak upon the shiny tile of the hospital hallway. The doors open as I make my way down another corridor in search of her room.

  I have no idea what’s happening. My damn phone died partway through my forever travels. I could have waited for Duncan, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to get here as fast as possible. In hindsight, I made the wrong choice. You would think that finding a last-minute flight to Indianapolis from New York wouldn’t be difficult, but apparently, that isn’t always the case. Even though I made it to JFK last night, it’s now Thursday morning, nearly sixteen hours and two delays later.

  Besides, I couldn’t expect Duncan to drop everything and join me. Not after he’d explained the whole mess with Carla. Mike wanted him present for the meeting with legal. His company takes precedence. Grandma Helen is my family, not his. She isn’t his responsibility.

  My feet still and mouth goes dry as I find the right room number on a small plaque beside the door. Taking a deep breath, I push the door inward, unsure what to expect. The last I’d heard she was in surgery. The details were sketchy at best.

  The overpowering blare of a television drowns out the beeps of monitors.

  Gritting my teeth, I steel myself for the worst as I step farther into the room.

  “Kimberly Ann!” my mom yells as she rushes toward me.

  Her petite frame swallows me before I can take a good look at Grandma. “How…?”

  “Look at that!” Grandma Helen says, pointing to the television screen filled with The Price Is Right. “I wouldn’t have bid so high. Maybe they don’t buy their prizes on Amazon.”

  Tears fill my eyes as I rush to her bedside. “Grandma, I was so worried when Mom said you fell.”

  “Damn ankle broke. That’s the problem with getting old. The balance isn’t what it used to be.”

  I scan her up and down. Her arm is bruised—a nasty, dark color. The lower part of her right leg is outside the covers, with some type of air boot that hums. ““You’re okay? Just your ankle and a few bruises?”

  “Just my ankle? Do you realize I’ll be out for this whole square-dancing season? The whole season! I suppose old Fred McKinney will find another partner.”

  “Mother!”

  “McKinney, as in Darrin’s grandpa?” I ask, more than a little shocked and grossed out.

  “Judy, we only dance. And yes. That Darrin is a nice boy. He always asks about you.

  “Besides,” she goes on, talking to Mom, “your father wouldn’t want me wasting awa
y all alone. We talked about that.” Grandma Helen looks at both of us. “And Fred…” Her eyebrows—currently, nonexistent because they’re not painted on with makeup—dance. “…has some great moves. The doctors say I’ll be up on one of those little scooters soon, but I’m sure Betsy Harmon—you know, from Fruitdale, right outside Cartersville—will be more than happy to take my place. She’s always been a catty one. You can’t trust women who lure men with homemade jams.

  “In my day, my jelly was the best. Your grandpa used to say—”

  The night of traveling and sitting in airports takes its toll as I collapse into a chair. I let out a deep sigh. “No one can take your place, Grandma. I’m sure Fred is too old to enjoy jams anyway.”

  Grandma Helen waves her hand. “No man is that old. Besides, it ain’t no never mind. Look at me. Once I have two working ankles, I’ll woo him back. By next season we’ll be cutting the rug. Betsy isn’t as wiry of an old broad as yours truly. I have moves too.”

  “No jelly though, Mom,” my mother says.

  “Well, you know, the strawberry seeds do tend to get caught.” She squints my way. “Child, you look like something the cat dragged in. Where’s that man of yours?”

  My smile returns as I reach for the remote and turn down the volume of the TV. “He’s still in New York. But he’s good.”

  Grandma reaches for my left hand and shakes her head. “I thought the next time I saw you, there’d be a ring…”

  “Stop, please.”

  “Honey, you know we just want you to be happy,” Mom says.

  I let out a long breath. “I am. Duncan wants me to move in with him.”

  “Do it!” Grandma says as Mom’s lips purse. Grandma turns to my mother. “Oh, Judy, that’s the way kids do it nowadays. It’s not getting the milk for free—it’s sampling. And even though I’m hard of hearing and my room was two doors down, I can tell you, I think he’s sampled, and if he’s asking Kimberly Ann to move in, he likes it.”

  Heat fills my cheeks. “Grandma!”

  “That man loves you. It was all over his face.”