The Ex Upstairs by Maureen Child

Seven

Henry liked working at home. Who would have guessed? Sure there would be some days he’d have to go into the office, but since it was now less than five miles from his house, that didn’t bother him, either.

“Working or planning on working?”

The voice had Henry’s head snapping up and his gaze spearing to where Mick Haley stood in the open doorway to the study.

“Working,” Henry said, “but just finished up with something. What’s up?”

“Thought you might want a walk-through of the new security setup.” Mick wore a dark red polo shirt with jeans that were worn and faded and his heavy work boots looked as if they’d traveled miles. And probably had.

“Sure.” Henry stood up and Mick laughed. “What?”

“I’m not used to seeing you without the suit I’m pretty sure you were born in.”

“Work at home,” Henry said. His jeans were black, his boots much newer, and he wore a blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled back to the elbow. “The uniform’s easier.”

“Yeah, it would be. Gotta say, you got a great house here. The view’s not bad, either,” Mick said with a shrug. “I was up on the roof checking the satellite connection.”

“View’s the best part.” Until yesterday, he thought, when Amanda had been there. Then, having her to look at was far better than the sweeping 360 view.

Mick headed back into the hall and waited for Henry to catch up. “We’ve got your cybersecurity all wired in. Every computer, including your tablets and phones, are covered.”

“Good.” He sometimes did business on his phone, so it was good to have that secure, as well. Henry followed his friend down the long hall and nodded to Martha as he passed her and one of the maids she’d hired. Of course, Amanda/Amelia wasn’t there today and damned if he wasn’t disappointed.

He’d spent most of the night thinking about her, reliving their time together on the roof, and he’d come to the conclusion that he didn’t mind that she’d come to spy on him. Hell, he would have done the same thing, probably. And she didn’t get the answers she wanted, so it didn’t matter anyway. What he did mind was that he missed seeing her now. He’d gone ten years with only occasional sightings of her, and now in the span of a couple of days, he’d become accustomed to having her near. To catching the scent of her on the air. To listening for the sound of her voice.

And... Since yesterday, he missed the taste of her in his mouth. All night, that memory had plagued him. He’d gotten only snatches of sleep and even then, she rose up in fitful dreams to torment him. Mostly, he lay awake, recalling in exquisite detail the feel of her against his body, her breath on his face, her mouth fused to his.

“You might want to tune in,” Mick said wryly and Henry dragged himself up and out of his tangled thoughts.

“What?”

“I’m showing you how to turn the damn alarm system on and off, so thought you might want to listen up.” Mick grinned as he studied him. “I know that look.”

Frowning, Henry replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right. There’s a woman on your brain.”

Damned if he’d admit to that. Snorting a laugh, Henry said, “You’re confusing me with yourself again. Who is it now? Amber? Diana?”

“Wendy,” Mick said with a grin. “But I’m not thinking about my current woman. I’m wondering who yours is.”

Sunlight speared through the transom window over the wide front door, to spill across the red-tiled floor. There was a round pedestal table in the entryway and a heavy ceramic bowl sat atop it, boasting a spray of yellow and white flowers. From the kitchen, music streamed quietly, and from upstairs, the hum of a vacuum purred into the otherwise stillness.

“You’re stalling.”

“Nothing to stall about,” Henry countered. “There is no woman.”

Mick shrugged. “If that’s the story you want to go with, fine by me. Just so you know I’m not buying it.”

“So noted,” Henry grumbled, then said, “Show me the stupid alarm system without all the commentary.”

Laughing, Mick said, “Fine. Listen up.” He went through the whole explanation, then said, “Input a password, then I’ll show you the other setups throughout the house.”

Henry did as he said, then stepped back.

“Tell me you didn’t use your birth date.”

“I’m not a complete idiot,” Henry muttered. He’d used Amanda’s birthday so now he’d be reminded of her every damn time he came and went through the door.

Probably a bad idea.

“Okay, then. I’ll take you around. One of my guys is still wiring up the third floor, but he’ll be finished within the hour.”

“That’s great, Mick. Appreciate it.” Henry followed when Mick started into the great room.

Looking back over his shoulder, Mick grinned. “You’re not going to appreciate the bill—even with the friend discount.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Henry said. “If you want the best, you have to pay for it.”

And since he still wanted Amanda, he wondered what price fate would demand.

“Well,” Amanda said on a sigh, “I guess they can’t all be brilliant.”

Her mother sat beside her at the center and reached to pat her hand. “Admittedly, the woman isn’t the best singer in the world, but I have to give her credit, too. She had the courage to audition. I don’t think I would have.”

Amanda looked at her mom and smiled. “Neither would I. But then, I already know I can’t sing.”

After a really long day and the disappointment of not being able to pry Justin’s secrets out of him, it was good to be there, working on her Summer Stars program. To remember what was important. To push Henry out of her mind for however long she could manage it. Although so far, that meant not very long at all.

“And to give the poor woman her due,” Candace murmured, “‘I Will Always Love You’is not the easiest song to sing.”

“True,” Amanda agreed, watching the young woman run grinning off the stage into the arms of her proud husband. “Unless you’re Whitney Houston or Dolly Parton.” Sadly, their contestant had been neither. Still, her audition tape would go up on the website and people would be able to see it and vote for her if they wanted to.

“You saw Justin today, didn’t you?”

Amanda glanced at her mother and felt a little guilty for not saying anything earlier. “You know he was here?”

“Oh, yes.” She waved one elegant hand and her diamond wedding band glinted in the dim light. “He came to the house to see me. Your father doesn’t know he was in town, though, so...”

“Got it,” Amanda said with a nod. Martin would not be happy that Justin had blown in and out of town in a couple of hours. But she was pleased to know that her little brother had stopped in to see their mother anyway.

“He wouldn’t talk about what he was up to,” Candace said and Amanda heard the worry in her mother’s voice. Apparently, motherhood lasted forever. It didn’t matter how old your children were—they remained your kids.

“But,” Candace continued, “he seems...happy. Excited, really, so I was glad to see that.”

“If you’re wondering, he didn’t tell me anything, either,” Amanda said.

“Well,” Candace said on a sigh, “that’s disappointing.”

“I know. I did my best to pry it out of him, but he’s a Sphinx when he wants to be. Sorry, Mom. But I do agree that he looked good. Less tense.”

Candace frowned slightly. “He worries about disappointing your father, though he shouldn’t and I told him so. We raised all four of you to think for yourselves. To find your own happiness and to do what drives you.”

“You did, and thank you.” Amanda gave her mom’s hand a quick squeeze.

“And speaking of that,” Candace said softly, spearing Amanda with a knowing look, “it was nice seeing Henry the other night, wasn’t it?”

“Hmm? Nice?” Okay, this conversation had taken an unexpected turn.

“I always liked Henry,” her mother mused, “and so, baby girl, did you.”

“Mom...”

“For heaven’s sake, it’s been ten years,” Candace said, leaning in closer and lowering her voice. “You can’t talk about this yet?”

“I don’t want to talk about it with my mother.” She shivered dramatically.

“I’ve actually had sex, you know,” Candace said, her lips twitching. “And I can promise it was more than the four times required to produce you kids.”

Amanda laughed, covered her ears and shook her head. “I really don’t want to hear that.”

“Your father and I loved each other. Of course we had a good sex life.”

“Loved?”Amanda picked up on that one word. “Past tense? Should I be worried about coming from a broken home?”

Candace laughed and it was a bawdy, loud sound that you simply did not expect from a sophisticated, refined woman like her. It was a rare moment that sparked her signature laugh, and usually Amanda enjoyed it. When her mom was laughing at her, however, it was different. Several people in the contestant’s audience turned to look toward them at the sound and Amanda’s chin hit her chest. When her mother’s laughter finally faded away, Candace spoke again.

“Oh, thanks, sweetie. I haven’t laughed like that in too long.” She grinned and said, “I notice you didn’t remark on the had a good sex life statement.”

“Really don’t want to know.”

“Well, that’s a shame, because it’s always been good,” Candace said, sighing. “Still is, when I can get the man away from his blasted company.”

“How did we get onto your sex life?” Amanda asked. “And how do we get off it?”

“Fine. I’m done.”

“Thank you. So I don’t have to worry about you two getting divorced?”

“No, but you could worry about me hitting your father over the head with something heavy,” Candace admitted. “The man is completely devoted to his damn work.”

Trying to remain in neutral territory wasn’t easy, but Amanda gave it a shot. “Well, he did build up Grandpa’s business into something incredible...”

“And must he babysit it for eternity now?” Candace shook her head. “No. He promised to retire and by God, I’m going to get him out of that business if I have to drag him out.”

“You might have to.”

“Absolutely. Do you know where he is tonight?” She didn’t wait for Amanda to answer. “We were having an early dinner and he took a call from an old investor and immediately left the table to go lock himself in his study. When I left home, he’d been on the phone for forty-five minutes already.

“I’m tired of playing second fiddle to the company, Mandy.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“And what are you tired of?” Candace asked bluntly.

“What? Nothing.”

Her mother gave her a knowing look. “You can’t fool me, Mandy.” She gave a little sigh. Shifting her gaze to the stage area. Still lit for the performance that had ended minutes ago, it gleamed like a jewel in the otherwise dim hall. “I see how you are, always pushing at work for more responsibility, more assignments, more of everything. You never see your friends anymore—”

“I see them,” Amanda argued. “I just took a ski weekend in Montana with Liz.”

“Sweetie, that was in February. We’re in April now.”

Amanda huffed out a breath. “Well, I’ve been busy.”

“That’s my point,” Candace said. “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up like your dad. Just where Bennett’s heading.”

“That’s not such a bad thing, is it?” she wondered, but as she thought about what her mom was saying, she started to worry.

“It is, if that’s all you think about.” Candace reached to the seat beside her and picked up her black bag. “When you kids were little, Martin and I spent time with you. Not just training you to take over the company, but actual time.”

“I remember,” Amanda said. Most weekends, they’d all piled into the car and taken a drive, stopping at historical markers, or whenever her parents saw something interesting. Her father never passed up a historical marker.

“Now, Martin’s forgotten how to simply be. How to have fun. And apparently, it’s up to me to remind him.”

“If anyone can,” Amanda said, “it’s you, Mom.”

“Thank you.” Candace patted her daughter’s hand. “And, since we’re being so honest, I’m going to say that I saw the gleam in Henry’s eyes when he looked at you.”

“Mom...”

“More importantly, I saw your eyes.” She waited for Amanda to look at her before adding, “Ten years ago, you found each other and then it all blew up.”

“I know. I was there.” And she really didn’t want to relive it all with her mother.

“You’ve both grown and changed and maybe it’s time to take another look. Give yourself permission, Amanda.” She stood up and looked down at her daughter. “Do yourself a favor, honey, and don’t forget how to enjoy your life.” Leaning over, she kissed Amanda’s forehead and turned to go.

Her crowded mind, racing with everything her mother had just said, managed to focus long enough for her to ask, “Are you headed home?”

“Nope,” Candace said. “I think I’ll pick up your aunt Viv and go out for a drink.”

“A drink?”

“Is there a Chippendale’s around here?” Candace wondered aloud. “Or are they out of business? I’ll have to Google it.”

As she walked away, Amanda stared after her, and blinked in surprise. Her mother at a male strip club? Just one more thing she didn’t want to think about.

Instead, she went over everything else the woman had said. Was her mother right? Was Amanda forgetting to have a life in her rush to prove herself at the company? Her world had become her home and the office. The last time she’d actually done something outside of work was dressing up as a maid and going to Henry’s house. What did that say about her?

She sighed. “What it says is, you’re thinking about Henry again.” And not just Henry. But that kiss. He’d picked up a few new moves since the last time she’d kissed him. But the heat, the magic, the pure, stunning thrill of him, was still there.

Amanda hadn’t felt anything like that with anyone else. Ever.

Her mother was right about one thing for sure. In ten years, she and Henry had both grown and changed. But was that enough? A curl of warmth settled deep inside her, then began to spread, like thread sliding off a spool. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and told herself to forget it. Her spy game was over. She had zero reason to go see Henry.

There was nothing between them anymore. One kiss didn’t mean anything. So just... “Get over it already.”

Twenty minutes later, Henry turned off the alarm, opened the door and stared at the woman looking back at him.

“What are you doing here, Amanda?”

“Stop talking,” she said, then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled his head down to hers and kissed him until he had to remind himself to breathe.

He wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the gift being handed him, so he grabbed her tightly against him, swung her into the house and slammed the door. Pressing her back to the door, he tore his mouth free and muttered, “Just a second. Wait. Wait.” Nearly blind with the need pumping through him, Henry punched in the alarm code, then turned back to Amanda.

He didn’t care why she was there. Didn’t want to know what had prompted this visit. All he wanted was her.

Her eyes burned with the same desire throbbing inside him. Whatever had brought her to him, Henry blessed it. He caught her face between his palms and then took her mouth with the same fierce need she had shown him. She ran her fingers through his hair, then down across his shoulders, and he felt every touch all the way down to his bones.

Her hands dived beneath his shirt, ran up and down his back, as far as she could reach, and the slide of her palms stoked the fire in his blood. He hadn’t expected her, but now, holding her, he couldn’t live without her another minute. Hunger that had crouched inside him for ten years lunged off the leash and fed.

He tore his mouth from hers, then trailed his lips and tongue and teeth down the line of her throat. She tipped her head back to give him room and breathed fast and heavy as the fire between them burned.

“Too many clothes,” she whispered and moved to tear at the buttons on his shirt.

“Right,” he muttered thickly. “Let’s fix that.”

While her fingers flew down the line of buttons on his shirt, he tore at her silk shirt and vaguely heard the soft “ping” of buttons hitting the tile floor and skittering down the hall. He pulled the tail of her shirt free of her skirt, then hungrily flipped the front catch on her blue lace bra. Then her breasts were bare and open to his touch and Henry didn’t miss a moment.

He filled his hands with them and she tipped her head back against the door he had her propped against. When his mouth followed his fingers, she shrieked and used one hand to hold his head in place. “Just like that,” she said drunkenly. “More. More.”

“There’s always more,” he muttered and dropped his hands to the hem of her black skirt. He shoved it up high on her hips, then ripped off her blue lace panties. “Thanks for wearing a skirt,” he muttered.

“You’re welcome. Also, you’re wasting time.”

“Right.” He reached down, freed himself and in a heartbeat, he was driving into her heat. On that first stroke, the top of his head flew off and he only half heard her shout of triumph. Again and again, he pushed into her, and with every withdrawal, he felt the loss of her and those feelings tangled inside him until Henry couldn’t see past the bright lights flashing in front of his eyes.

To be with her, in her, again was more than he would have expected. More than he remembered. As she said, just more.

Her hands clung to him. She hooked her ankles at the small of his back and pulled him in deeper, harder. Her head rapped against the door but she didn’t seem to care. He was blind to everything but the need clawing at him. He heard her groans, felt her body fist around him, and when she jumped over the edge, she screamed and he experienced her pleasure with the convulsing of her body around his.

Then she stabbed her fingers through his hair, tipped his head back and kissed him mercilessly, and while their mouths were fused, he raced off that cliff right behind her.

Shaken, breathless, he held her tightly against the front door and knew he’d never come and go out of the house again without remembering this moment. Her birthday as the alarm code. Now this. Yeah, Amanda was seared onto his house as well as she was onto him. When he knew he was steady enough, he looked into her eyes and said the only thing he could think of. “So nice of you to drop in.”

She laughed, really laughed, and since he was still inside her, he felt the laughter as well as heard it. “Yeah, glad you were home.”

“Oh, me, too.” Gently, he disengaged their bodies, then let her slide to her feet. Amazingly, she still had her black high heels on. Henry didn’t know why that hit him so hard, but there was no denying it. While they each tried to straighten out their clothes, Henry managed to say, “If Martha were here, we’d have given her a heart attack.”

Amanda stopped tugging the edges of her shirt together—pointless, since there were no buttons to hold it—and gasped. “Martha. I forgot about the little general completely.”

“Yeah, she’s gone for the week,” he said and didn’t acknowledge even to himself that his hands shook as he pulled up his jeans zipper. “After the move, I thought she could use a few days so I sent her and her sister to a hotel in La Jolla for a week.”

“Thank God.” Amanda’s shoulders relaxed and she reached up to push both hands through her hair, scraping it back from her face.

Her shirt hung open again and the bra, though hooked, was such a fragile piece of lace, he knew it wouldn’t take much to rid her of it. Her black skirt was in place, and as she bent over to pick up her discarded panties, Henry rubbed one hand over her behind.

She went still and tossed him a look over her shoulder. As she had as “Amelia,” crawling over his bed. And now, as then, his body went hard as stone and his mouth went dry.

“I’m not finished,” he admitted hoarsely.

“Me, either,” she said and straightened up only to leap at him. “It’s been a long time, Henry, and being with you is stirring everything up inside me.”

“I know how you feel. Let’s try horizontal this time, though, all right?”

She glanced at the staircase, then back to him. “It’s a long way to your bedroom. What if we don’t make it?”

“We will,” he told her. “Eventually.”

He grabbed her hand and Amanda let him tug her along behind him. Her knees were still a little wobbly and the stairs suddenly looked a lot more intimidating than they had from the entryway. Her body was buzzing, her heart pounding and everything in her tingled in anticipation of another hot-and-sweaty round with Henry. But as she watched him, pulling her along the staircase, she knew she couldn’t make it up the rest of the stairs. Not yet, anyway.

“Here.”

“Here what?” He kept going until she stopped and pulled back on his hand. Turning to look at her, he studied her face for a long second or two, then smiled. “Here?”

“Why not?” She dropped his hand, shrugged out of her ruined shirt and slipped her bra off her shoulders and down her arms to drop on the staircase. “I don’t want to wait for horizontal.”

His eyes fired and she knew she had him right where she wanted him. “We’re alone in the house and these stairs are just taking too long...”

“Agreed,” he said and turned to capture one of her breasts in the palm of his hand. His thumb rubbed across her hardened nipple and everything in Amanda curled up and whimpered.

“This is horizontal enough. Vertically horizontal,” she amended.

“Works for me,” he muttered. “Just so long as we don’t fall down the damn things.”

“We won’t,” she said and pushed at him until he sat down on the step. Planting her legs on either side of him, she slowly went down to her knees and his eyes flashed bright and hot. She felt exactly the same, Amanda thought wildly.

Coming here had been impulse, driven by a need she was done ignoring. For ten years she’d thought of him. Not one single man had ever lived up to the night she’d had with Henry so long ago. And tonight, she’d told herself that there was no reason to stay away from him anymore. They’d talked. They’d kissed. And the hunger between them, unfed, only kept growing. Time to feed it.

She unzipped his jeans and freed him, wrapping one hand around the hard length of him until he groaned and let his head fall back against the staircase. Then Amanda shifted, taking him inside her body inch by slow, torturous inch. She’d just had an amazing orgasm, and yet now a new one was building within her with such force, such fury, she raced to meet it.

Only Henry had been able to do this to her. Only he had the power to make her blood boil and her mind completely blank out to everything but what was happening to her body. She’d tried to convince herself that she’d built that memory of the night with him into something that was more fantasy than reality. Now she knew for sure she hadn’t. Not only was it still amazing with him, it was even more so than it had been ten years before.

Groaning aloud, she took him all the way in, then ground her hips against him, increasing the incredible friction buzzing in her body. His hands clamped down on her hips and his gaze fixed on her as she began to move. Rising, falling, she set a rhythm that pushed at both of them, forcing them to chase the release that waited, just out of reach.

He lifted his hands and cupped her breasts, fingers and thumbs tweaking, pulling as she continued to move. She arched her back, pushing herself into his touch, then lifted her hands high, riding a sweeping tide of celebration, triumph. A moment later, though, she dropped her hands to his muscled, sculpted chest and felt the pounding of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

Amanda felt that first starburst of release and rode him wildly until he joined her at the slippery edge of oblivion, and together, they made the leap.