Covet (32 page)

Ian’s eyes flew open in alarm, suddenly aware of how close he was to climaxing. Looking down he realized it was his own hand stroking his cock instead of Tessa’s, and that once again he’d imagined her here in his bedroom, his bed. Groaning, he realized he was too far gone to stop what he was doing, his body far too needy for release. He barely made it to the shower, turning on the taps as he grabbed a towel and then stepped inside the huge stall. His hand resumed the almost frantic stroking motions as he leaned against the cool granite walls, his head thrown back and his eyes tightly shut.

Once again he imagined her here with him, the hot water sluicing over their wet, naked bodies. Except this time his cock was buried deep inside of her hot, creamy pussy, his hands cupping her buttocks as he lifted her up until those long, long legs were wrapped around his hips. They fucked frantically, wildly, like two animals in heat who simply couldn’t get enough of each other. He buried his face against her neck, biting down on the tender flesh hard enough to leave a mark, but her cries were muffled by the sound of the pounding water
.

When he came seconds later, his legs shook with the force of his orgasm, and he had to slap a hand against the shower wall to hold himself up. It was only when he forced his eyes open long seconds later that Ian realized he was alone – in the shower, his room, his house. His
life
, he acknowledged bitterly. And destined to remain that way so long as his unhealthy obsession with the woman he could never have was allowed to continue.

“Oooh, those are just
gorgeous
, sweetie pie! Does Andre have a gay brother you can set me up with? Preferably one with the same taste in flowers.”

Gina smirked at Kevin’s half-serious inquiry. “Not a question I’m going to ask the guy I’ve only been dating for three weeks. Besides, you’ve got a gift of your own, honey. All of us do.”

“Tessa doesn’t,” piped up Shelby with her usual lack of candor. “She’s the only one without any flowers. Oops, sorry, Tessa. I didn’t mean to rub it in or anything.”

“It’s okay,” Tessa assured her feather-brained co-worker. “With Peter over in Sri Lanka I didn’t expect him to remember it was Valentine’s Day. I don’t think they have a 1-800-Flowers service over there.”

She didn’t add that even if Peter had been at home today the likelihood of him sending her flowers or doing anything remotely romantic was slim to none. Because their marriage wasn’t a traditional one, wasn’t a
romantic
or passionate one, the sorts of occasions that other couples celebrated generally went unnoticed by him. In the years since they’d been together, they had never done anything special for Valentine’s Day or their wedding anniversary. Birthdays were quiet affairs, commemorated with dinner out at a modestly priced restaurant and a simple gift of some sort. To the best of her knowledge he had never bought her flowers or anything else that could be thought of as romantic. Knowing Peter, he was far too wrapped up in the story he was covering to even realize today was Valentine’s Day.

But apparently the same couldn’t be said for her co-workers’ significant others. All five of them had had some sort of floral arrangement delivered to them this morning – Alicia a vase of long-stemmed red roses; Marisol a colorful arrangement in a white wicker basket trimmed with red satin ribbon; Shelby had received a whimsical bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers and a heart-shaped balloon; Kevin’s gift from his latest – and much older – boyfriend was an elaborate gift basket that included flowers, expensive chocolates, champagne, and a Teddy bear. He had already passed the box of candy around, and set the stuffed toy on the low wall of his cubicle divider.

Gina had been the last of the group – except for Tessa, of course – to receive her flowers, but the wait had been worth it. A lavish arrangement of a dozen different varieties of flowers dominated half of her desk space, and Tessa took a deep, appreciative sniff of their heady scent. Whoever Gina’s new boyfriend was, he apparently had a lot of money as well as good taste.
And
a romantic streak a mile long.

Tessa forced herself to focus on the new spreadsheet she was working on, refusing to feel sorry for herself, or think about the fact that she was the only one of the group who didn’t have flowers on Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t the least bit important, she argued with herself, and would have been totally impractical if Peter
had
sent her flowers. Money was especially tight right now since he hadn’t been paid for over a month, and had also needed to buy a new battery for his laptop. Wasting their precious funds on something as frivolous as a bouquet of roses would have been ill-advised, and Tessa would likely have set her foot down if Peter had even suggested such a thing.

She glanced up at the precise moment that Ian Gregson came striding past on his way to the elevator lobby, her breath catching in her throat a bit as it always did when he was nearby. He was wearing her very favorite suit this morning – an elegant black pin-stripe that Gina was positive had been tailor made for his tall, muscular frame. With it he wore a crisp white shirt and a dark red tie, and he was so handsome, so suave and debonair, that Tessa could only gape in mingled admiration and something that felt a lot like lust.

She wondered rather morosely if there had been a special woman that Mr. Gregson had sent flowers to this Valentine’s Day. According to the frequent and detailed gossip she couldn’t help but overhear from Alicia, Gina, and Kevin, Mr. Gregson dated a lot of different women, though it didn’t appear that he was in any particular hurry to settle down with just one. Tessa envied the woman – whoever she was – who was lucky enough to be his Valentine this year. The very fortunate female would be certain to receive not just a beautiful bouquet, but likely be treated to an expensive dinner and possibly an extravagant gift like jewelry.

She thought about the last few birthday and Christmas gifts that Peter had given her – a cookbook, an umbrella, a pair of fuzzy slippers, a crockpot. Nothing that could be considered the least bit romantic, the sort of gifts one might give their mother or a co-worker. But, she told herself firmly, no material things could ever compare to the real gifts Peter had given her when she was a girl of sixteen – those of friendship, protection, and family. A thousand bouquets of flowers wouldn’t have meant nearly as much as what he had done for her.

Gina and Alicia perked up with interest as Mr. Gregson walked past, their voices chiming in unison, “Good morning, Mr. Gregson.” He gave them a brief, almost brusque nod before continuing on his way.

Alicia gave a little sniff of displeasure. “I see His Hotness isn’t in a very good mood this morning.”

“Probably needs to get laid is all,” joked Kevin in his usual crass manner. “I’m guessing a stud like him gets cranky if he doesn’t get off at least three or four times a week.”

Marisol shook her head. “His flight from Washington D.C. was delayed a few hours so he must have arrived home pretty late. And he was here this morning at his usual time. I’m sure he’s just tired.”

Tessa’s cheeks grew flushed at the image Kevin’s words called to mind, but thought that he was probably right. A man as virile and thoroughly male as Ian Gregson undoubtedly had a voracious sexual appetite, an appetite that needed to be appeased on a frequent basis. She wondered rather dreamily what it would be like to have a man like him for a lover, and knew instinctively that he would be a master at pleasing a woman. He would know exactly how and where to kiss and caress, how to arouse a woman and bring her to a stunning, powerful climax with very little effort. Her eyes drifted shut briefly as she tried to imagine how his lips would feel on hers, claiming them in a deep, hungry kiss. Or how those large, capable hands of his would feel as they cupped her breasts, caressed her buttocks. She bit down on her bottom lip to stifle a whimper as she pictured herself in bed with him, her arms and legs entwined with his as he made love to her with exquisite skill, coaxing sensations from her highly aroused body that she’d never dreamed existed. And then he would –

“Everything okay there, sweetie pie? You got a headache or something?”

Tessa’s eyes flew open in alarm at the sound of Kevin’s voice, and she was quick to reassure him. “No, everything’s okay, thanks. Just, um, trying to focus on this new spreadsheet. It’s pretty complicated.”

Kevin gave a delicate little shudder. “Ugh, sounds like hell. Have I told you lately how happy all of us are that you’ve taken that crappy job off of our shoulders?”

She smiled. “Not for at least a week. And I’d better get back to it. Sorry if I drifted off there for a minute.”

He patted her on the shoulder. “No worries. Hey, you want to catch lunch with me today? I can switch my hour with Shelby, I doubt she’d mind. You – well, it’s a crying shame that a hot babe like you doesn’t have a date on Valentine’s Day. Or a husband who didn’t remember to order flowers for her before he took off to the far corners of the world. Not to mention that I’m pretty sure they have a thing called the internet in Sri Lanka. Dude could have ordered flowers for you online.”

Tessa gave a careless little shrug. “It’s not a big deal. We’ll just celebrate when he gets home. And this was a really big story for Peter. He was doing research like crazy before he left, probably didn’t even realize that he was going to miss Valentine’s Day. Some things are more important than a bouquet of daisies, you know?”

Kevin arched a brow at her. “I hope he knows how lucky he is to have a wife like you. Not just because you’re gorgeous and most men would kill to be in his shoes. But you’re understanding and supportive and, well, just plain nice. And maybe this isn’t any of my business but I think you deserve someone who pays you more attention than Peter seems to do.”

His phone buzzed with an incoming call before Tessa could think up a reply, but she would have vehemently denied everything Kevin had just said. Of course Kevin couldn’t even begin to know the whole story of her relationship with Peter, how much Peter had sacrificed for her, and all he had done to help her. If Kevin had known everything there was no possible way he would have said what he did.

But she couldn’t help feeling a bit wistful as she looked around at everyone’s flowers, couldn’t help being a little sad that she was the only one who would be alone on Valentine’s Day. She’d overheard all of their plans to celebrate tonight – Alicia was going to a black tie holiday ball, Gina to a party at a friend’s house, Kevin a dinner cruise on the bay, while Shelby and Marisol had plans to go out to dinner with their significant others. Whereas she – well, she’d be spending Valentine’s Day pretty much the same way she did every night when Peter was away on a business trip – alone and struggling to combat the loneliness and depression that tormented her.

She politely declined Kevin’s offer to go out to lunch, not wanting to accept his pity and also being aware that she had less than ten dollars in her wallet right now. Determined not to feel sorry for herself, Tessa made plans to watch one of her favorite movies this evening –
Sleepless in Seattle
– which was ideal for Valentine’s Day. She really couldn’t afford to get takeout, but she would make herself something yummy to eat – homemade nachos or chicken pot pie – and splurge just a bit by buying a cupcake at the bakery near her bus stop. Tomorrow morning she had plans to go for a hike along the trails in the Presidio, and on Sunday she’d found a free yoga class to attend. In between she had laundry to do and the apartment to tidy up and groceries to buy, and before she knew it the three-day weekend would fly by and she’d be back at work. And then, just over a week from now, Peter would return and she wouldn’t be alone for a little while.

It was early afternoon when yet another delivery man walked into their corner of the office, carrying a cut-crystal vase of the most breathtaking roses Tessa had ever seen. They weren’t the traditional red found in most Valentine’s Day arrangements, but rather a pure, snowy white with delicate pale pink tips. And somehow, shockingly, it seemed that the fabulous bouquet was for her.

She stared at the delivery man in stunned disbelief as he carefully placed the vase on her desk. “I think you’ve made a mistake,” she told him haltingly. “I really don’t think these are for me.”

The rather harried looking delivery man, who’d undoubtedly been working like a fiend all day long, shook his head impatiently. “If you’re Tessa Lockwood then there’s no mistake. See, your name is typed on the card.”

She plucked the small cardboard card from its plastic holder and saw her name was in fact typed on it. But there was nothing else to indicate who had sent them – no signature or message, not even the name of the florist on the card. The delivery man dashed off before she could quiz him further, and all she could do was touch the delicate blooms with reverence before taking a deep, appreciative sniff of their heady perfume.

“Omigod, I take it all back!” declared Kevin when he spied the beautiful arrangement. “Sweetie pie, these are gorgeous! So much more original than red roses, aren’t they? And that vase – holy crap. It’s the real deal, Tess, not just some cheap piece of glass. This is a bonafide Wedgewood vase, probably cost at least a couple hundred bucks.”