A Christmas Rendezvous

It was an older gray-haired woman. “I’m sorry. Thought I’d catch it while I could. Otherwise you end up waiting forever.”

“So true,” Isabel said. She leaned against the back wall, standing right next to Jeremy. She looked over at him as her hand again caressed his thigh. She bit her lower lip and he thought he might faint. She was too hot for words.

Mercifully, the woman got off the elevator at the fifth floor, but being alone with Isabel only opened the floodgates. He dropped his briefcase as they smashed into each other, kissing hard, tongues and wet lips, insistent hands everywhere. He yanked at the tie on her robe, then fumbled with the buttons on her pajama top. Hers were inside his suit jacket, tugging his shirt out from the waist of his pants. By the time the elevator dinged on the eighteenth floor, they were both in a disheveled state of near-undress.

Isabel picked up his briefcase, handed it to him and dashed down the hall, with Jeremy in close pursuit. She pulled her key card from her robe pocket and Jeremy stole a look down the front of her pajama top, which was already half-unbuttoned. Her breasts were full, her skin creamy and he couldn’t wait to have his hands all over them.

Isabel flung open the door and Jeremy again dropped his briefcase, relieved he didn’t need to keep track of it anymore. Isabel took off her robe and undid the last two buttons on her pajama top, tossing it to the floor. He cupped her breasts in both hands, her skin even softer and more velvety smooth than he’d imagined. Her nipples tightened beneath his touch. He loved seeing and feeling how responsive she was to him. Her pajama pants hung loosely below her belly button, clinging to her curvy hips. He wanted to see every inch of her and with a single tug of the drawstring at her waist, they slumped to the floor. She had no panties on underneath and that view of everything to come made everything beneath his waist grow even tighter, even hotter.

“You have on way too many clothes,” she said as she flew through the buttons on his shirt and he got rid of his jacket. She then seemed to notice exactly how fierce his erection was. “Very nice.” She flattened her hand against the front of his pants and pressed hard, rubbing up and down firmly.

He wavered between full sight and blindness. It felt so impossibly good. He only wanted more. This time, Jeremy didn’t have to disguise his reaction, and he let out a groan at full roar. Isabel responded by unzipping his pants while he toed off his shoes. A few seconds later, she had the rest of his clothes in a puddle on the floor. She wrapped her hand around his length and took careful strokes while he kissed her. It had been so long since he’d wanted a woman like he wanted her. Something about her left him letting down his guard.

“Do you have a condom?” he asked, realizing that he did not. This was not good planning on his part, but he did not make a regular habit of meeting women after work and going up to their hotel rooms.

“I do. In the bathroom. One minute.” Isabel traipsed off and he watched her full bottom and long legs in graceful motion. He couldn’t wait to be inside her.

She returned seconds later with a box, which she set on the bedside table after taking out a packet. She tore open the foil and closed in on him, a bit like a tiger stalks its prey. Jeremy liked feeling so wanted. It felt good to know that he still had the power to do this to a woman.

Isabel took the condom and gently placed it on the tip of his erection, then rolled it down his length, all while their gazes connected. She owned every touch, every action of her beautiful body, and Jeremy wanted to drown in her self-confidence. He wanted to live in the world she did—where there seemed to be zero reason to question oneself.

Across the room sat that big beautiful bed, with a crisp white comforter and countless pillows. But Jeremy wanted to make love to Isabel in every corner of this room, and the chair that was right next to him seemed like the perfect place to start. He took her hand and he sat down, easing his hips to the edge of the seat. Isabel didn’t miss a beat, straddling his legs and placing her knees on the chair next to his hips. Jeremy reached between them and positioned himself, then Isabel lowered her body onto his. He kept both his hands on her hips while his sights were set solely on her stunning face. Her mouth went slack and she closed her eyes as she let him slide inside. She was a perfect fit. And Jeremy was nothing if not thankful to whatever forces in the universe had brought him to this moment.

Isabel dictated the pace, which was perfect for him. He wanted to know what she liked. Despite the fact that he had so much pent-up need inside him, this was all about her. He would not leave until she was fully satisfied. He eased one hand to her lower back and urged her to lean into him so he could kiss her. Fully and deeply. Meanwhile, Isabel rode his length up and down and Jeremy struggled to keep up, to keep from reaching his destination too soon. He did not want to disappoint her.

Their kisses were soft and wet, tongues sensuously twisting together. Jeremy caressed her breast with one hand while the other cupped her backside, his fingers curled into the soft and tender flesh. Isabel raked her hands through his hair over and over again, telling him with soft moans and subtle gasps that she was happy. He felt her tightening around him, and that matched her breaths, which had become ragged and torn.

“I’m close,” she muttered into his ear, then kissed his neck.

He’d passed close several minutes ago and had since been skirting the edge, trying to ward off his climax. “Come for me.”

Isabel planted her forehead against his and went for it, riding his length faster, sinking as far down as she could with every pass. Jeremy was fairly sure he had no blood flow to the rest of his body as he steeled himself. As soon as she let go and called out, he did the same, following behind her. Her muscles gathered around him tightly, over and over again, and the relief that washed over him was immense.

All he could think as the orgasm faded and Isabel collapsed against his chest was that he had to have her one more time. And quite possibly one more time after that.

“I need you again, Isabel.” Jeremy smoothed his hand over her naked back and kissed her shoulder, bringing everything in her post-bliss body back to a quick simmer.

“Already?” she asked, slowly easing herself off his lap. She stepped over to the bed, where a mere hour or so ago she’d been attempting to sleep, and pulled back the comforter. She certainly hadn’t thought at that time that she’d end up with a man in her room later.

“I’m going to need a minute or two, but I swear that’s all.” Jeremy padded off to the bathroom.

Isabel climbed into bed and immediately rested her head back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. Wow. She was glad Jeremy wanted more. That first time had been so hurried. She wanted the opportunity to savor him.

Moments later, he joined her, climbing in next to her and pressing his long body against hers. “You’re incredible. Once was not enough.”

She could already feel his erection against her leg. She was nothing if not impressed. Jeremy with the salt-and-pepper hair had a very quick recovery time. Of course she was on board. Considering that they hardly knew each other, he had an uncanny ability to hit all of her most sensitive spots. She really appreciated a man who picked up on her cues and followed suit.

“We need another condom,” she said, kissing him deeply.

He rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, took one from the box on the nightstand. Isabel turned to her side and swished her hand across the silky sheets, feeling his body heat still there. She admired his muscled back in the soft light from the window. He was in unbelievable shape and she was happy to reap the rewards.

When he turned back to her, he smiled. “You are so beautiful. I’m still trying to figure out how I managed to talk you into taking me upstairs.”

She swatted his arm, then pulled him closer as he reclined next to her. “You’re no slouch. Believe me.”

He kissed her sweetly, then his approach turned more seductive, as he opened his mouth and their tongues found each other, swirling and swooping. He was an amazing kisser, there was no doubt about that. Isabel could have kissed him forever; they were in perfect sync. He rolled her to her back and hovered above her, holding his body weight with his firm arms. Isabel ran her hands from his wrists to his shoulders, her eyes closing and opening as he lowered his mouth to her neck, then her breast, taking her nipple between his lips. He was unhurried now, a stark contrast to the frenzied first time.

He positioned himself at her entrance and drove inside slowly, pushing her patience, letting her feel every inch as he filled her perfectly. Isabel rolled her head from side to side, feeling the cool pillow on her cheeks as Jeremy made the rest of her body red hot. She raised her knees to let him in deeper, and he was taking mind-bending strokes just like he had the first time. This was the advantage of a man later in life. He knew what he was doing.

He slipped his hand between their bodies and pressed his thumb against her apex, rolling in firm circles as he kept his even pace. She was surprised how quickly the tension wrapped itself around her, the way he drove her toward the edge of the cliff so perfectly. Right there. The climax was toying with her now, ebbing closer, then pulling away. Each pass brought it nearer and she could feel ahead of time just how intense it was going to be. She heard her own hums and moans, but her consciousness was so deep inside her own body that it came out muffled and fuzzy. Meanwhile, she became fitful and greedy, needing him closer. Needing more. She dug her heels into his backside, pulling him into her, and that was when the orgasm slammed into her, even harder and more intense than last time. This was an order of magnitude she hadn’t been prepared for—sheer gratification awash in beautiful colors and hazy, unworried thoughts.

As she became more aware of the here and now, Isabel could tell that Jeremy was also near his peak. His breaths were labored, but light, just like they had been the first time. Puffs of air that seemed to go in one direction. Just in. And further in. In one sudden movement, he jerked, then his torso froze in place, his hips flush against her bottom. She wrapped her legs around him tightly and raked her fingers up and down his strong back, feeling every defined muscle. As her own pleasure continued to swirl around her, she blazed a trail of hot kisses against his neck, wanting to show her appreciation. Jeremy was magnificent. Absolutely perfect.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “The condom. It broke.”

Just like that, the spell was broken. “Did you?” she asked. Had she really just been thinking that this was perfect? She should have known better. That did not exist. Not for her, at least.

“Did I come? Yes.” He rolled off of her and jumped up from the bed, rushing off to the bathroom.

Isabel closed her eyes and pinched her nose. Great. So much for her fun with handsome Jeremy. So much for the idea of a third time. Or a fourth. This was about to come to a quick end, she guessed, at least judging by how quickly he had retreated to the bathroom.

He returned a few seconds later with a towel wrapped around his waist. He paced, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to say, other than I’m sorry.”

Her instinct was to make him feel better, even when she was feeling worse by the second. “Not your fault. It happens.”

Awkward silence followed, and she knew that Jeremy was planning his escape. He had his lips pressed tightly together like he couldn’t figure out what to do next. Part of her was tempted to point to the door and save them both the embarrassment. Part of her wanted to put on her sleep mask and convince herself this part wasn’t happening. They’d had such an amazing night together. It didn’t seem fair that it should end like this. But that was life. Nothing to do about it but move on.

He sat on the edge of the bed, but it was about as far away from her as possible. The divide between them now felt like it was a mile wide. In some ways, she felt like she knew him even less now than she had when they’d first met downstairs. “I don’t even know your last name. What if I just got you pregnant?”

Isabel knew that uncertain edge in his voice. She’d heard it before. One time in particular had been so painful she thought she might never recover. That had been over an actual pregnancy, not merely a fear of obligation. Her initial impression of Jeremy had been correct. He came off as smooth for a reason—he was all about the pursuit, not about sticking around. And that was fine. No harm, no foul. They hardly knew each other. It was understandable that he might feel trapped. It was now her job to let him off the hook, if only to allow herself to get on her with her life.

“If it makes you feel any better, my name is Isabel Blackwell.”

He glanced over at her. “Oh. Okay. My last name is Sharp.”

Isabel grabbed the sheet and pulled it up over herself. Exchanging last names had done nothing to make this situation more comfortable. If anything, it made it so much more obvious that she wasn’t built for one-night stands.

Isabel scooted up in bed until her back was against the headboard. “Look. Don’t worry about it. It’s okay. I keep track of my cycle pretty closely. I don’t think there’s any chance we’re in trouble.” She’d undersold that part by quite a bit. She’d been methodically tracking her periods for the last several years. If she managed to meet Mr. Right, she wanted to be able to try for a baby as soon as possible. Isabel prepared for everything in life. It was the best way to avoid surprises and the perfect distraction when you felt like the things you wanted weren’t happening fast enough.

“Okay. Well, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to stay...” His voice trailed off, leaving Isabel to make the final declaration.

“No, Jeremy. It’s okay. I think it’s probably best at this point if you head home. I have a big meeting tomorrow and I’m sure you have things you need to do tomorrow. We probably both need a good night’s sleep.”

He nodded. “Sure. Yes. Of course.” He got up from the bed and began collecting his clothes from their various locales across the room. He let go of the towel so he could step into his boxers, giving Isabel one last parting glance at perfect Jeremy. Damn. If only this hadn’t started so absurdly. If only it hadn’t ended so uncomfortably. He might have been a guy she would have wanted around for a while.

Wrapped up in the sheet, she climbed out of bed and padded past him to the bathroom. She quietly closed the door behind her and sucked in several deep breaths. You’re okay. Moving to New York was supposed to be her new beginning, especially with men and the notion of having a personal life. So she’d had a false start. Jeremy was ultimately a nice guy. He was handsome, sexy and kind. They’d had some rotten luck, but that happened every day. Isabel needed to get past the idea that her fresh start was ruined by one mishap.

She stepped to the sink, took a sip of water from the glass on the vanity and prepared herself to walk back out into the room. “Worse things have happened.” When she opened the bathroom door, Jeremy was standing right outside, suit on but no tie. His briefcase was in his hand. For a moment, she wondered what he did for work. Probably a Wall Street guy. He seemed the type—cocky, good-looking, sure of himself. She wouldn’t ask him now.

“Okay, then. You off?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes. Thank you for tonight. It was really nice. I swear.”

She had to laugh at what a sad and funny situation she’d gotten herself into. She stepped closer to him and stole one last kiss. “Jeremy. You were amazing. And I hope you have a lifetime of making money and finding fun wherever you go.”

He smiled, but it wasn’t a full-throttle grin, not the smile that had first sparked her curiosity or the chemistry between them. “I hope you find everything you’re looking for, Isabel Blackwell.”

With that, she opened the door and watched as he walked down the hall to the elevator. She hoped Jeremy was right. She didn’t want to go too much longer waiting.

Three

Jeremy finally gave in at 4:37 a.m. His night’s sleep was a lost cause. He climbed out from under his down comforter and sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, and ran a hand through his hair. A deep sigh escaped his lips, but he could have sworn he heard a word in it. A name. Isabel. What the hell was that? What the hell happened?

He’d never had a woman work her way into his psyche in such a short amount of time—mere hours. Sure, part of it was the fact that he was still stinging from the way he’d had to exit her room, and her life. When they’d been down at the bar flirting and she offered the invitation to come upstairs, his plan had been to leave her happy and exhausted, positively aglow from sex. Instead, he’d departed while she was bundled up in a sheet like a hastily wrapped gift, granting him a dispassionate kiss goodbye and leaving him with the crushing sense that they would always have unfinished business.

Another sigh came. He was going to have to stop letting this get to him.

With a long day of client meetings ahead, he decided to get in a workout. He sometimes managed to sneak away at lunch and go to the Sharp and Sharp gym, but that likely wouldn’t happen today. He flipped on the light in his master bedroom, grabbed a pair of shorts, a T-shirt and running shoes, then made his way up one set of stairs to the fourth floor of this renovated brownstone. He had a small theater and gym up there, additions he made after his ex-wife moved out. Kelsey never saw the point in watching movies and didn’t want the “smell” of a workout space. But now that he was all on his own, Jeremy could do as he liked.

It wasn’t much of a consolation.

Forty-five minutes on the treadmill and a half hour of free weights was enough to work up a sufficient sweat and shake off some of the lingering thoughts of Isabel. He hustled down to the second floor and the gourmet kitchen, where he prepared entirely too many meals for one. Coffee was dripping into the carafe when he heard a familiar sound coming from the patio off the back of the house.

Meow.

It was December 9. It was entirely too cold for an animal to be outside. Jeremy padded over to the glass door, and as had happened many times before, a large orange tabby cat was winding his way back and forth in front of the window. The cat had been to the house many times, and Jeremy had even taken him in once before, over a year ago when it was unbearably hot. The cat’s visit had lasted less than a day. He slipped out the front door when Jeremy came home from work that night. Jeremy wasn’t a cat person at all—he didn’t really see the point of a pet that didn’t do anything other than lounge around all day. He’d called Animal Control to see if they could catch him, but they’d seemed unconcerned. He’d even had his assistant call the veterinarian in his neighborhood of Park Slope, but they couldn’t do much until someone caught the cat and brought him in. Jeremy kept hoping someone else would take on the burden, but apparently not. At least not today.

Meow. The cat reared up on its hind legs and pressed a single paw to the glass, peering up at Jeremy with eyes that were entirely too plaintive.

Jeremy crouched down and looked into his little cat face. “Buddy. What are you doing out there? It’s six in the morning and it’s freezing.”

Meow. The cat pawed at the glass.

Jeremy straightened. This was the last thing he had time for, but temperatures weren’t expected to get above freezing today. He couldn’t let the poor thing suffer. Resigned, he flipped the dead bolt, turned the knob and tugged on it. Bitter cold rushed in, but not as fast as the cat. Jeremy closed the door, realizing he now had a big task ahead of him—he had to feed the cat and figure out where to put him all day while he was at work.

He went to the pantry to look for a can of tuna, but that was a bust. Then he remembered that he had some lox in the refrigerator from the bagel shop down the street.

“I guess we’re going to find out if you like smoked salmon.” He placed a slice of the fish on a plate and broke it into smaller pieces with his fingers. Jeremy had a feeling this was going to be a big hit. The cat was now rubbing against his ankles.

Jeremy put the plate on the floor and the cat began to scarf down the food. Mission one, accomplished. He filled a cereal bowl with water for the cat, then went about making his own breakfast of eggs and a bagel. As he sat at the kitchen island, the cat wound its way around the legs of his barstool, purring loudly enough for Jeremy to hear. He had to get to the office, so he sent a text to his housekeeper, who would be arriving around eight. There’s a cat in the house. Don’t ask. Can you bring a litter box and show it to him?

Margaret replied quickly. You got a cat?

Jeremy laughed. Not on purpose.

After getting cleaned up and dressed, Jeremy left for the office, arriving promptly at seven thirty, just like every other day. Not only was the weather unbearably cold, it was gray and dreary, somewhat typical for early December, although Jeremy couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow sunnier outside than it was inside the Sharp and Sharp offices.

The other partners typically arrived at eight, but Jeremy had learned long ago that his boss, who was also his dad, demanded that his own son deliver more than everyone else. Jeremy had worked twice as hard to make partner. He brought in nearly twice as much billing. He worked like a dog for two reasons. First, he hoped that he would eventually make his father happy enough to loosen his iron grip on the firm and afford Jeremy some autonomy. The second reason fed into the first. When Jeremy had been in the middle of his divorce, he bungled a big case. The Patterson case, a multimillion-dollar wrongful termination suit. It should have been a slam dunk and instead, Jeremy dropped the ball, mostly because his personal life was falling apart. His dad might never forgive him for that grave error, but Jeremy had to keep trying. He had to live the life of a workaholic for the foreseeable future.

In recent months, his father had been pressuring him to bring on a very specific sort of big-fish client, someone with a case that could attract media attention, even of the tabloid variety. In the internet age, one juicy headline brought a lot of free exposure. And although his dad was a traditional and upstanding guy, he loved the spotlight. He basked in it. He loved knowing the firm’s coffers were piled to the ceiling with cash.

“Morning, son,” his dad said, poking his head into Jeremy’s office. He truly was the spitting image of Jeremy, only twenty-three years older. A bit more gray. A few more deep creases. The uncanny similarities in their appearance made the problems in their relationship that much more difficult—on the outside they were nearly identical. On the inside, they couldn’t have been more different. “Are we a go with the Summers case?”

“We are. I’m just waiting for the signed agreement to come in this morning and then we’ll be in contact with the legal department at Eden’s.”

His dad glanced at the chair opposite Jeremy’s desk. “May I?”

“Of course.” Jeremy took a deep breath and prepared himself for what might come—there was no telling with his dad. Some days, he was calm and reasonable. Other times, he hit the roof over the smallest detail. It had been like that since Jeremy was a kid, and he still wasn’t used to it.

“What do you think is the real reason Mr. Summers fired Mulvaney and Moore?”

“Honestly? I met with Mr. Summers last night and he’s a little off his rocker. He’s dead set on getting revenge against the Eden family. This is about far more than money. I’m sure that scared off the senior partners at M and M. They’re an incredibly conservative firm.” Jeremy leaned back in his chair. “Why? Are you worried about it? There’s still time to call it off if you want.”