The Rebound Guy Page 3

  How about something sultry signed with a lipstick kiss?

  Any time you’re ready for more, Tiger.

  He’d think it was a joke.

  How about an apology?

  I’m sorry for everything. Please forgive me. PS: You were fantastic.

  Love, Lauren.

  Love, Lauren. Didn’t that seem weird now? Of course she loved Eric.

  She signed all her Christmas and birthday cards that way, followed by a cute string of X’s and O’s. He did the same.

  She’d even said it once out loud. They’d been together on a marathon Christmas shopping spree the day after Thanksgiving. Laden with shopping bags and bundled in a too-warm winter parka, she’d waited on the curb outside of Macy’s while he ventured off into the mall parking lot to find his car.

  When he’d pulled up twenty minutes later after fighting traffic that would have made Attila the Hun wet his pants, she’d climbed into his SUV and said in all sincerity, “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

  He’d just grinned like the Cheshire Cat and done his best Han Solo impression. “I know.”

  She’d wanted to say it last night, over and over each time she came.

  Each time he locked eyes with her and panted her name as he pumped his hard cock into her, she’d wanted to say, “I love you, Eric.” But she hadn’t because it would have seemed false, cliché somehow.

  Good Lord, she had to get out of his apartment and get her head on straight before she did something completely ridiculous like start considering a relationship with Eric. That could never happen. Would never happen. He didn’t feel that way about her and she didn’t feel that way about him. Sex didn’t change anything.

  •

  For the fourth time that day, Eric hung up the phone midway through dialing Lauren’s office number. He had the conversation all planned out in his head. She’d answer the phone, all business-like and sweetly secretarial, and he’d say, “Hey sweetheart. How about I pick you up at 6:30 for dinner?”

  She’d giggle and probably blush at his sultry tone and know that by

  “dinner” he meant “sex”.

  In his fantasy world, that was all he needed to do to make her his. In real life, she was probably with Mark trying to patch up their relationship.

  He plunked down the receiver and turned back to the program that sat half-written and mostly full of errors on his screen. She’d call him.

  He’d told her to and she would. Lauren kept her word. She’d call. And when she did, he’d be aloof, distracted. He’d reaffirm their date for Sunday and go home and take another cold shower or two or three and try not to think about everything he wanted to do to her, everything he wanted to share with her.

  Another uneventful hour slipped by and Eric jumped when the door to his office swung open. JR Ellis, one of Eric’s team managers, poked his head around the heavy door. “A bunch of us are going to Antonio’s.

  Are you in?”

  Eric looked at his screen and contemplated the monumental lack of work he’d accomplished, then at the silent phone on his desk. Would it help or hurt if he missed Lauren’s call? Would she try his cell phone if she didn’t get him at the office?

  His stomach rumbled. He’d skipped breakfast and after all the energy he’d expended last night, he needed to eat.

  JR raised an eyebrow. “Once again, in English…Eric, are you coming with us for lunch?” He spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if he were speaking to someone hard of hearing.

  Eric shot him an evil glare. “Yeah. I’m useless here. I might as well eat.” He pushed back from his desk and grabbed his jacket.

  “Got the Hump Day blues?” JR asked as Eric joined him in the heavily carpeted corridor.

  “What?” Eric slid his guilty gaze to JR. Was it written all over his face? Did he have a hard-on from thinking about Lauren all morning?

  “Hump Day. Wednesday is the ‘hump’ of the week.” JR crooked his index fingers in air quotes around the word “hump”. He shook his head as he turned down the corridor toward the office lobby. “You programmer types are so out of the loop.”

  “I know what Hump Day is, JR.” Eric sighed as he strolled through the corridor past the mostly empty cubicles of his co-workers.

  “You seem more introverted than usual,” JR said when they reached the lobby. “Is the Jericho deadline making you crazy?”

  “Yeah.” The project for Jericho Lighting was a bitch and a half, but truly nothing Eric couldn’t handle. It made a good excuse, though, not to think about Lauren and how hot and sweet and sultry she’d looked wrapped in his sheets this morning. He forced the image of her looking up at him, her mouth parted in a gasp of pleasure, out of his mind and concentrated on work for the first time since arriving at his desk that morning. “I was actually going to call a meeting this afternoon to go over the specs one more time.”

  JR sighed. “Oh great, because I love being tortured.”

  Eric laughed despite his internal turmoil. “Good. Then you’ll have a wonderful afternoon.”

  They spent all of the short drive to Antonio’s Pizzeria complaining about the difficulties of working with the snobby staff members of the international lighting company. When they joined the small office crowd at the restaurant, though, no one seemed interested in talking business.

  While everyone ate and discussed sitcoms and ball games, Eric let his mind wander to his perfect night with Lauren and how much he wished he could take back the morning and stay with her in bed.

  To hell with waiting for her to call, he decided as his co-workers divvied up the lunch bill. He’d call her when he got back to the privacy of his office and tell her he wanted to see her again before Sunday. At least if she refused, he’d know where he stood with her.

  When he rose from the vinyl-upholstered booth, JR shoved a stack of twenties in his hand. “You pay. We’ll meet you outside.”

  “Right.” Eric took the wad of cash, added his own share to the pile and headed for the cashier. With several people in line to pay, he’d probably get back to the office a little late and that would delay his call to Lauren. On a whim, he pulled out his cell phone to check his messages on the off chance she’d called while he was at lunch.

  “Reynolds? Eric Reynolds?” The male voice registered as vaguely familiar, but Eric didn’t place it until he looked behind him. Mark Dalton stood in line next to him.

  Something went tight in Eric’s chest. Whether it was jealousy or anger, he couldn’t tell. His jaw clenched and he greeted Mark with a curt nod.

  “Hey, Eric. How’s it going?” Mark clapped him on the shoulder, seemingly oblivious to his cool reception. “I haven’t seen you since Tara’s Christmas Party.”

  “Right.”

  “You still working for that software security firm?”

  “Yep.”

  “Great! That’s good.” Mark nodded his overly large head in what, to Eric, seemed closely akin to the motion of those ludicrous bobble-headed dogs people used to keep in their cars. Had Mark always seemed so clownish and ungainly?

  Eric moved up in line, wishing Lawyer Boy would just go away. No such luck.

  “Hey, Eric, you’re still friends with Lauren, right?”

  Eric drew in a slow breath to curb his rising annoyance. Was he still friends with Lauren? Had he irrevocably destroyed their friendship by agreeing to sleep with her when he should have taken the high road and made her talk about her problems with Mark?

  “Yeah. Why?” How could Mark call himself Lauren’s boyfriend if he didn’t know she and Eric were still friends? They had lunch together at least once a week and she usually mentioned Mark, who was looking more and more like a droopy-eyed Bassett Hound every second. Maybe Lauren didn’t talk about Eric when she was with Mark.

  “I was…I’m a little…” Mark shifted from one huge clown foot to the other, his red power tie swaying to and fro. He jerked his head sideways, gesturing Eric out of line.

  I don’t have time for this, Boz
o, Eric thought as he reluctantly followed Mark toward the salad bar.

  “Lauren and I had a misunderstanding. Have you talked to her since yesterday?”

  Eric bit back a sarcastic reply that included full disclosure of the half-dozen orgasms he’d given Lauren last night. “Have you tried Tara or Roxy?” He forced innocence into his voice. Why was he so angry with Mark? He should be thanking him. If Lawyer Boy hadn’t screwed up big time, Lauren wouldn’t have showed up last night needing…

  “I tried them, no answer. I don’t think they want to talk to me.”

  “What did you do?” Eric’s fists clenched involuntarily. He wondered if Mark’s wide, doughy face would feel like an overstuffed pillow if he punched him right now.

  “I…she saw something and she got the wrong impression. I was… A girl from my office came over to my apartment yesterday. Lauren never stops by in the middle of the day—I thought she was at work. How was I supposed to know her boss was sick and closed the office early? Anyway, this girl, she came over and sort of threw herself at me. She wanted me to— you know. I was trying to let her down easy, tell her I wasn’t interested but she started taking her clothes off, then she’s all over me and—” “And Lauren caught you.” Eric’s heart went cold, but anger blazed behind his eyes at the thought Mark would be so stupid as to cheat on Lauren and try to lie about it. Mark was as transparent as a quivering mass of Jell-O. On the off chance some poor girl from his law firm really had thrown herself at him, odds were he was more than willing to play catch.

  “Lauren thinks she caught me. She saw what looked like, but wasn’t, me fucking this girl.”

  “Uh huh.” Clench. Unclench. Clench. Unclench. Eric’s short fingernails dug into his palms. Of course Lauren had come to him wanting sex, not for comfort, not for love, but for revenge.

  Could he blame her?

  “You haven’t talked to her since then?” Eric forced himself to ask.

  “I’ve been calling her cell. I guess she’s screening.”

  Eric nodded. He’d do the same.

  “You’ve talked to her, haven’t you?

  This was his chance to deliver a blow to Lawyer Boy without even touching him. Good Eric wanted to feign ignorance, keep Lauren’s secrets and let her deal with Mark in her own way. Bad Eric had a different plan, an evil, wickedly satisfying plan that, even if it didn’t rip apart the shreds of Lauren’s relationship with Mark, would still make Eric feel damn good.

  The name of Bad Eric’s plan was Brutal Honesty.

  The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them and they fell like stones in the suddenly quiet restaurant. “She was with me last night. She was still in bed when I left for work. I could give her a call if you like.”

  A collection of emotions played over Mark’s suddenly rubbery features as Eric’s words sank in. What appeared to be relief at locating Lauren quickly morphed into confusion, enlightenment, and finally anger. As if Mark had a right to be angry.

  “She stayed at your place?” All the dopey, false friendliness drained from Mark’s voice.

  Eric fixed a cold gaze on his brand new rival. “Yes.” There was no way Mark could mistake the challenge in his tone. He braced for the third degree, mentally climbing onto the witness stand so Lawyer Boy could drag a full confession from him.

  And exactly how many times did you make her come, Mr. Reynolds?

  he imagined Mark asking as he paced back and forth in front of a dozen captivated jurors.

  At least six, he’d reply.

  At least? You mean you’re not sure?

  You’d have to ask Ms. James herself, Counselor, but I will swear to six orgasms, and that’s not counting the first time when I barely touched her.

  Just sliding my hand over her hot, wet—

  “She stayed over at your place?” The subtle difference in Mark’s tone told Eric Lawyer Boy was in denial.

  “Yes. She did.”

  “If I find out you took advantage of her, I’ll rip you a new one.”

  Mark’s threat coaxed a satisfied grin from Eric. He felt eight feet tall.

  “Can I get that in writing, Counselor?”

  Mark’s lips contracted into a thin line and his colorless eyes blazed, but to his credit, he backed away from decking Eric right there at the salad bar. “I’m not kidding.”

  “I hope you aren’t.”

  “We’ll finish this conversation another time.”

  “I’m sure we will.”

  Mark spun on his heel and stalked away. He made it as far as the door before the cashier collared him with a sweet, slightly annoyed, “Um, your check, sir!”

  Mark threw money at her and slammed through the pizzeria’s double doors, leaving the cashier shaking her head as she ironed out the crumpled twenties on the counter. “Jerk,” she muttered under her breath, and Eric couldn’t help but agree. Drunk with his own power and a primitive sense of possessiveness he’d never felt before, he slipped an extra twenty into the pile of bills in his hand and told her to keep the change.

  The euphoria of staring down Mark and staking a public claim to Lauren gave him the strength to delay his phone call. By quarter to five, though, his willpower evaporated. Lauren still hadn’t called him, and the realization hit him that she might not forgive him for rubbing their impromptu sleepover in Mark’s face, no matter how angry she might be at her hopefully ex-boyfriend.

  Chapter Five

  Work had been impossible. No project Lauren worked on during the two hours between her late arrival and her noon lunch hour seemed to take her mind off thoughts of Eric. Though she’d taken a shower at her place, after Roxy gave her a ride home, she still felt like she had Eric’s essence on her. She smelled his aftershave and the warm scent of sweat and sex each time she took a deep breath. Her heart lurched each time the phone rang, and she cursed her irrational desire to hear his voice.

  Why was she suddenly so obsessed with Eric? He was still Eric, still her friend. She’d never spent an entire morning lost in contemplation of his deep blue eyes or the fascinating scar under his jaw, or the delectable hollow at the base of his throat that beckoned her tongue to lick there.

  Lunch with Tara and Roxy had been torture. She hated to kiss and tell, but she was weak. She’d given in to their relentless inquisition halfway through her spinach quiche at Blue’s Diner and fed them tantalizing tidbits of her evening bite by bite, just to watch their eyes glow with astonishment.

  “Is he bigger than Mark?” Roxy had asked, a forkful of radicchio paused halfway to her lips.

  “Mark’s a horse, isn’t he?” Tara chimed in. “He’s so damn tall, I always figured his dick hung down to his knees. I mean, why else would our girl date Mr. Boring?”

  Lauren had blushed and her friends giggled like schoolgirls. She stopped short of defending Mark who, she realized, never seemed to have much to talk about except his job. Thoughts of Mark dissolved quickly when Tara assaulted her with more questions about Eric’s prowess in bed. Finally, she begged off any more juicy details and asked the all-important question of her friends.

  “What should I do about Eric? He was so…nonchalant this morning.

  Not cold, but just so normal. I feel awful about using him.”

  “Did you have a good time?” Roxy asked as she shoved her half-eaten salad aside.

  God, yes! “Sure. Yeah.” Lauren shrugged to throw the bloodhounds off the scent. Despite the sour pang of Mark’s betrayal, her night with Eric had been the best night of her life. She longed to repeat every sultry, sweaty minute, to taste him on her lips and feel his long, hard shaft inside her again. He’d been amazing in every way, and she hated the fact that now, in the harsh light of day, he probably regretted giving in to her desperate seduction.

  She owed him a huge apology.

  “Did he have a good time?” Roxy asked, her sculptured eyebrows disappearing under her platinum bangs.

  “I assume so.” Lauren couldn’t help but grin. Roxy’s own brother, Todd, was fon
d of saying, If you’re a guy, there’s no such thing as bad sex.

  Roxy clapped her hands. “There you go. I don’t see the problem.”

  “The problem is, he just got up and left this morning,” Tara said after a long sip of her iced tea. “This is Eric we’re talking about. He’s sensitive.

  What if he reads too much into the whole thing? What if he thinks it meant more than it did?”

  Lauren’s heart plummeted. Tara had put her worst fear into words.

  Eric was a good guy. He had real feelings, and Lauren never wanted to hurt him or make him think the wrong thing. She’d had the time of her life. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Now, Mark seemed like a bad dream. In fact, when she pictured her now ex-boyfriend’s potato-white ass in the air and the look of stark terror on the blonde bimbette’s face when the door of his apartment flew open, she wanted to laugh. If only she’d thought to whip out her cell phone and snap a picture of Mark’s posterior for posterity. What a Christmas card it would make—a big snowy moon hung with dangling red balls…

  She almost spit out her iced tea.

  “Are you all right, hon?” Tara asked.

  “Fine, just thinking about something funny.” It hadn’t been at all funny yesterday, though. She sobered. How could she have gotten over it so quickly? “Really. What should I do? Should I just have brunch with him on Sunday like nothing happened or should I call him up tonight and talk to him?”

  “He said for you to call him, didn’t he?” Tara asked.

  Lauren nodded. She’d tried twice from her office, but her stomach felt so knotted each time she’d picked up the phone, she’d ended up just scurrying off to the bathroom to splash water on her face.

  “Then call him. Tell him he was phenomenal and any time he wants to do it again, you’re available. Why not take advantage? Mark’s history.

  Eric’s not dating anyone right now. What have you got to lose?” Roxy’s words seemed so logical. It all made sense.

  “What have I got to lose?” she asked her friends. They shrugged and smiled, but in her head Lauren heard the answer.