After Hours. Karen Kendall
Footsteps and voices traveled through the hallway outside and kicked her former anxiety into play again, but Troy just grinned, laid a finger on her lips and pushed deeper, cupping her bottom to brace her.
“I’m gonna come, babe,” he whispered. “It feels too good and I can’t hold on anymore….”
She grabbed his butt and wrapped her legs around him until she could cross her ankles, holding on to him as if she’d never let go. A glow began to surface from some primal place within her, and it grew brighter and brighter.
Perhaps it was the possibility of discovery that sent them both flying over the precipice at the same moment. Troy opened his mouth in a silent curse, arched his back and impaled her in one sudden motion. She exploded with a cry that he smothered with his lips and echoed with a groan. They lay like that for a long moment, their hearts beating wildly against each other.
Oddly enough, it was the supposedly calming music that brought Peggy’s anxiety back in a wave.
She felt pinned by his big body, and put her hands against his chest as if to push him off. He seemed to note the change in her mood immediately, and pulled out, his gaze assessing her face.
He picked up the sheet from the floor and wrapped it around his waist as she struggled up and pulled her skirt down again. She slid off the table, and an awkward postcoital moment ensued as she snapped her bra back together and buttoned her blouse. What could she possibly say?
Thank you, Troy, for the three orgasms?
I’m really not this kind of girl?
So, do I tip you thirty percent this time?
She backed away from him, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. “Troy, I just want to say…I’m not a groupie. I’m not a bimbo.”
“I know that,” he said, putting on the spa robe and tying the belt.
“I shouldn’t have done what I just did. I’m at my place of employment.”
He moved toward her, gathered her hair in his hands and kissed her nose, of all things. “Will you have dinner with me later?”
Peggy froze. The sexual encounter was bad enough, but to actually follow up on it? Act as if this was all in a day’s work? She licked her swollen, thoroughly kissed lips. “I don’t date football players, not ever.”
“Why not?”
Her three reasons were years in the past, but she wouldn’t talk about them. Not to him, not to anybody. “I just don’t.”
“That’s ridiculous.” He crossed his arms over his chest and squinted down at her. “And a guy buying you dinner once doesn’t mean you’re dating him. Besides, as long as we’re splitting hairs, you should keep in mind that I’m no longer a football player.”
She stared at the floor and then her shoes, which were scuffed on the toes.
“Fine,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be dinner, just a drink. One. That’s it. If you still feel the same way after that, I’ll leave you alone.”
She hesitated, then capitulated. “Okay.”
“What time do you get off tonight?”
“Ten-thirty, after my last appointment.”
“I’ll pick you up then. I assume that you don’t want to finish our session at the moment, since you’re uncomfortable.”
I want to finish it, all right. But not in any way that’s decent or professional. “At this point, there simply isn’t enough time—I have another appointment at 9:15. Do you mind rescheduling?”
“I don’t care, as long as it’s you who does the massage.” And with a last kiss, Troy disappeared into the showers.
LATER, AS PEGGY CLEANED UP after Pilar Morales’s seaweed wrap, she felt like a time bomb. A bomb in a too-tight bra, with no panties on. She’d buried the ripped ones in the trash long before Pilar had arrived.
She still couldn’t quite believe that she’d allowed Troy Barrington to seduce her on the job! She could sterilize and disinfect the place to her heart’s content, but her actions didn’t change the facts.
It’s been a year since Eddie, she told herself. I have a right to a normal libido, especially when a man who looks like Troy comes on to me. Any other woman would have done the same thing….
But it didn’t square her conscience completely. She’d failed miserably at impulse control, yet again.
Peg finished work by throwing the sheets and towels into the wash. She tossed in some soap and started the machine, which made a groaning, churning noise—exactly the way she felt inside. If only she had a rinse cycle to filter out her emotions and fears.
Troy Barrington was probably waiting for her outside already, so they could go have that drink. But after she ditched her white lab coat and threw it into the machine, too, she grabbed her tote bag and ran for the bathroom. Peggy splashed cold water on her face, brushed her teeth and fixed her hair.
She cast a last dissatisfied look into the mirror, pinched her stupid pug nose in a futile attempt to make it narrower—why had he kissed it?—and slung the tote over her shoulder. She took a deep breath and marched out of the bathroom, hoping Shirlie would be gone.
She was, but Marly pounced on her before she could get out the door. “What’s going on, Peggo? Troy Barrington left two hours ago, but he’s now waiting for you outside.”
Peggy became fascinated with the array of nail polishes on the wall behind Marly. “I’m, uh, going to have a drink with him.”
Her coworker stared at her. “What happened to inner balance and a year alone and Peggy Power?”
“It’s just a drink.”
“Uh-huh.” Marly smirked. “Then bottoms up, hon! But I want to hear all about it tomorrow.”
“Just do me a favor, will you? Don’t tell Shirlie.”
“Shirl has a nose like a bloodhound. She’ll sniff it out within seconds.”
“Well, try to keep it from her as long as possible, okay? I think she has a crush on Troy.”
Marly nodded.
“And it’s just a drink.”
“Right.”
“It’s not even dinner.”
“I hear you.”
“I coach his nieces, so we’ll probably just talk about them and how I can help improve their game.”
“Peggy, just shut up already and go meet the guy? He’s right outside the door.”
And he was. With her heart sitting on her tonsils, Peg opened it, walked out tentatively and said, “Hi.”
He seemed amused. “Hi.” Then he reached out and took her hand. “Do you want to go to a bar?”
“We could. Or we could just go to my place or yours and get this out of our systems.”
7
TROY’S JAW DROPPED OPEN. This woman was nothing if not direct. “Get it out of our systems?”
“You know,” Peggy said, “this lust thing. We both want to act on it. So we should just get it out of the way and move on, don’t you agree?”
Troy stared at her. “No, I don’t agree. I’d like to get to know you.” The words surprised him as much as they seemed to surprise her.
She stared back at him, seeming perplexed, while he felt the same way. This obviously wasn’t the answer she’d expected—and quite frankly it wasn’t the answer he normally would have given. Wasn’t no-strings-attached sex every guy’s fantasy?