Avoiding Mr. Right (9 page)

“You’re ready, Carla. Rub it hard and fast.”

I do as he bids, my body arching off the tile, a muffled scream making its way past
my gag. Andy holds me firmly in place while the first wave of release washes over
me, its intensity nothing I’ve ever felt on my own. A hot hand comes over the gag
in my mouth, locking even more of my sounds away.

“More,” he coaxes softly, “you’re not done yet.”

I writhe and buck on the cold tile floor, pumping myself as hard as I can while the
currents of pleasure continue to pulse even higher. The fingers pressing into my cheeks
and the hand grasping my hair somehow increase the height of my release. Behind the
white cotton and silk tie, my moans pour out one after the other, muffled and contained.

A door opens inside me and a rush of emotion spills out with my orgasm. Tears leak
from the corner of my eyes and trail down to the silk tie. No experience in my life
can compare to this moment. Stars explode in my vision and I close my eyes to enjoy
each wave of energy wracking my frame.

“You’re stunning when you finally let go.”

As the shivers lessen and the aftershocks slow to nothing, I notice the grip on my
hair is gone and Andy has pulled his hand from my mouth. I open my eyes to see him
stuffing his erection behind his fly, wincing as the zipper shuts it away.

He unknots his tie and removes the handkerchief. My voice comes out dry as he lifts
me from the floor, smoothing my skirt over my hips with his free hand. “But you didn’t
come,” I say.

Andy places a tender kiss to my mouth, dipping his tongue in and sending a fire back
through my blood. “This was for you. My time will come later tonight. That is… if
you’re willing.”

No longer desiring to hold Andy at arm’s length, I am willing to see what else he
has up his sleeve. “I look forward to it. How about my place at seven?”

“Yes. It’s a date. A real date, Carla. I plan to take you to dinner first.”

My second chance stands on the other side of Carla’s apartment door. As I pace the
length of the hallway carpet, doubt rages through my mind. I never expected things
to progress this well based on our one-night stand almost two weeks ago. Granted,
she’s been willful by making a lunch date with the brawny stockbroker, but the accepted
dinner invite tonight proves my recent attentions have been worth the effort.

She was receptive to the blindfold and the gag, and even allowed me to control her
peak. But how much further do I push her? My cock stirs in my pants at the thought
of tying her up and having my way with her. Maybe, with the help of the gift I’ve
brought, we’ll try the blindfold idea again and I’ll get her on her knees.

The hallway around me loses focus as the blood rushes to my prick. I want more than
anything to thrust into her all night while she calls out my name. My labored breathing
echoes in the hall, indicating I’m too keyed up to be aiming for seduction. Waiting
will make the orgasm stronger, but picturing my gorgeous co-worker writhing around
her fingers on the bathroom floor isn’t an image I can shake easily.

Running my hands through my hair, I make a quick decision. If I can’t get tonight
right, I might blow my last chance with her. And based on what I’m seeing from her
more and more, I think she’s worth the effort. With a grim expression, I look around
and proceed to the stairwell at the end of the hall. Stale air, with a hint of concrete,
wraps around me as the fire door closes.

I stand perfectly still; listening for any sounds to indicate I may not be the only
one in the stairwell. I place the small gift bag on the floor at my feet. Grabbing
the white cotton fabric from my pocket, the one I’d folded earlier and shoved into
Carla’s mouth, triggers an answering lurch in my cock. Damn that was hot. Hurrying
to free myself, I unzip and take my erection in a firm grasp.

Wrapping around the girth, I twist and pump halfway down, caressing the sensitive
head at the end of each stroke. Thoughts of the beautiful blonde spread open on the
conference table invade my mind while my mouth waters at her remembered sweet, tangy
taste.

Teasing and playing with the gorgeous young woman all damn day has left my body tight
as a wire and eager to explode. My eyes drift down as I stroke myself, the rhythm
picking up as I recall how she reacted when I tongued her ass.

God, she’s so responsive—she’s fucking hot to watch. The way her head tilted back
while I fisted her hair in the bathroom, the burning look in her eyes when my cock
bobbed inches from her nose. All too soon the moment is upon me and I cover the slick
head with the handkerchief.

My peak rushes forward, sending quivers racing through me. My balls pull up to my
body and streams of come jet from the tip, to be caught in the cotton. A sigh escapes
as tension seeps from my muscles. Shoving the used handkerchief in my pocket and my
semi-hard dick back in my pants, I grab the gift bag and proceed back into the hall.
I’m sure I’ll be able to perform much better this evening when it really counts.

Determination and confidence pours through me as I knock on her apartment door. I
plan on giving her the night of her life. She’s bound to see we’re right for each
other when I leave her more satisfied than any other man has before.

Carla answers and ushers me in with a charming smile. “Nice to see you’re on time.”

I return her smile, “It’s never good to keep a lady waiting.”

“Huh,” she quirks an eyebrow, “you had no trouble making me wait today when it suited
you.”

I take her arm and pull her into a light embrace. Running my hands up and down the
soft silk of her tiny black dress, lingering on her curvy ass, I whisper into her
ear, “That’s not the same kind of waiting.”

She pulls away and moves toward the small galley kitchen. “Green looks good on you,
Andy.”

Glancing down at my vee neck sweater and slacks, I shrug. “Clothes are clothes. I
don’t think about it much, but thanks. Your dress looks hot, but you know that or
you wouldn’t have picked it.”

She laughs, running a hand over her curvy hips. “Thanks. Glad you like it. I know
the dress looks good, but it’s still nice to hear.” Her eyes dart to the small bag
dangling in my hand. “Is that for me?”

“Yes,” I reply, setting the bag on her coffee table. “It’s for later, after dinner.”

“You gonna make me wait to open it?”

I grin and nod. “Haven’t we already determined it’s better when you wait?”

She grabs a previously opened wine bottle off the counter, one hand reaching for the
stopper at the top. “Whatever, Andy. I’ll do what you say… for now.” A heated look
crosses her face. “Where are we going for dinner?” The pop from a cork fills the silence
and the gurgle of pouring liquid follows. “Do you like white?”

“Yes.”

Carla sashays closer with two glasses, working her curves for all she’s got.

“Thanks,” I say while taking the glass and leaning in to give her a kiss.

Our mouths touch and I detect a hint of mint toothpaste. With my free hand, I cup
her head, tilting her to grant better access. Our tongues dance for a bit and my semi-hard
state soon becomes a thing of the past.

The full raging boner doesn’t reflect the recent quickie I gave myself in the stairwell,
but if I hadn’t done it, I’d be coming in my pants.

She sets her glass down on the table. One warm hand traces the muscles in my chest
while the other reaches for the one between my legs. “Someone is certainly happy to
see me.”

I stare deep into her eyes. “How could you ever doubt that?” Uncomfortable by the
clear emotions in my gaze, she ducks her head and looks away. “Do you know what you
want in a man, Carla?”

She pats my cock, sending jolts of anticipation through me. “I know what I want right
now.”

This isn’t going quite how I’d like. I need to dig a little deeper before I give her
what she thinks she wants. I move her hand from my crotch and raise her fingers to
my mouth to nibble on them, “And you’ll get it… in due time.”

“Why all the games, Andy?” she says, pulling her hand from my lips.

Confusion tinges my voice, “Games? Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

A spark of annoyance crosses her features. “You’re the one dictating to me, so how
is it I’m playing games?”

This wasn’t how I pictured starting our evening, but I guess I’d better lay things
on the line. I take a drink of wine to fortify myself then set the glass on the kitchen
table next to hers.

“You come on to me in the cab, we have sloppy sex in your bed, and then you pass out.
I try to revive you with my hand and you dream of an old fling, calling out his name.”
She burns in remembrance and turns away, arms wrapping around her middle. “You call
our night together tolerable and then sporadically return my texts.” She grabs her
glass, props a hip against the counter and takes a long swig of wine. “Then you pick
up another guy the next week, spend time with me on the weekend, and then see
him
again on a lunch date.” She’s not looking at me now, but staring off in the direction
of the stove. “I think I’m right in saying you’re the one playing games, lady.”

“Oh, yeah? What about you?” She tears her gaze from the stove to stare at me. “Pulling
me into the storage room at the bar?” Anger colors her tone. “Playing with me in the
conference room until I could barely see straight? Gagging me and having me masturbate
on the bathroom floor?”

I step toward her, leaning close to pin her to the counter top. “And you loved every
damn second of it.”

Her face sears under her conflicting emotions. “I’ve never felt this way, Andy. It
confuses me.”

Placing an arm on both sides, I trap her in place. “Why are you so scared, Carla?”

“Because I can’t control it!” And there it is, her biggest fear just slipped past
her careful wall of indifference.

“Sex isn’t about control, at least not how you’re thinking.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” she says with a slight sneer.

Ignoring her poke of nastiness, I grab her face in my hands and hold her still while
I kiss her hard. By the time I let go, both of us are breathing fast. “Because I’ve
been where you are.”

“Oh, really? And where would that be Mr. Perfect Accountant?”

Recognizing her jabs for what they really are now, a way to cover her fear, I let
it go. “You’re lost,” I say, then plant a kiss on her forehead. “And I plan to show
you the way.”

A snort escapes her, but that’s better than her earlier anger. “How?”

I kiss the end of her nose, striving for light-hearted and silly. “How about we have
dinner first?”

She smiles, relaxing in my arms. “Okay, dinner first. Do you like Italian?”

“Love ‘em.” I wiggle my eyebrows, “The women are especially passionate.”

“You’re incorrigible!” She’s laughing and the moment of difficulty is behind us.

“All joking aside, I’d planned dinner for us at the Piano bar up on Christopher Street.
They’ve got a great menu and the atmosphere is nice.”

“Sounds good to me.”

We leave and in minutes we’re walking on the sidewalk, hand in hand. I like the feel
of her grasp in my own. It’s warm and reassuring, like we’re a good fit, despite what
she’d like to believe. Her constant prickly attitude is a defensive mechanism, and
now that I’ve got her figured out in that regard, I refuse to let her sharp words
get to me.

A warm spring breeze blows in our faces, bringing with it the smells of the city plus
the hint of warmer days to come. Sadness skirts over me as I remember the springtimes
of my youth, camping trips and hanging with Andrea and our folks. Maybe I’ll be able
to create similar memories in my future with the person I start a family with.

“Do you like to camp?” The question blurts out impulsively.

Carla tilts her head, glancing at me while we walk. “We went on a couple of trips
when I was younger, when my dad was still around.”

“Did your parents divorce?”

She pulls away slightly, forcing me to tighten my grip to hold her hand. “Um…no. Not
exactly. He left us when I was fourteen.”

I stop dead in my tracks, turning the tiny blonde to face me. Her father leaving their
family makes perfect sense. The worst of her emotional walls were brought on by that
single act. “I’m so sorry. That had to be incredibly hard on your family.”

Carla shrugs, unwilling to meet my eyes. “You don’t need to be sorry. It wasn’t your
fault. He just up and left one day.”

“No note? No phone calls? What did your mom think?”

A short sound of laughter erupts from her. “My mom? She put on a brave front for the
first few weeks. When the cops couldn’t even trace his car they suggested it might
have been deliberate on his part.” Her voice turns soft, a trace of bitterness creeping
into her tone. “Like he took on a whole new identity to start over. Apparently it’s
not uncommon.”

I pull her toward me, wrapping my arms around her in a hug. “That’s awful, Carla.”
Her stiff body hesitates in my embrace for a moment and then relaxes a fraction. I
cup a hand over the back of her head and hold her close, determined to ease her old
pain. I had asked who hurt her so badly, but I had no idea it was her own father.
How the hell does a guy battle against a past like that?

Resolve settles inside me. I’m not going to give up just because she’s got baggage
no one should have to suffer through. Her past has made her who she is, just like
mine has for me. She pulls away from my embrace, awkwardly glancing up the sidewalk.

“That’s the place on the corner, isn’t it?”

I nod and tuck her hand in the crook of my arm, determined to have her closer to my
side for the rest of the walk. “Not all men are like your father.”

She glances up at me through a fringe of bangs. “I’m starting to realize that.”

In a few moments we’re at the restaurant, the maitre d’ smiling when he sees me. “Ace!
Good to see you. I saw the reservation and hoped it was you.” I reach a hand out in
greeting and the older man ignores it, pulling me into a quick hug. “We’ve missed
you!” He pulls back and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at Carla. “Is this the lovely
lady who’s taking up so much of your time? Will you be coming back soon?”

“Good to see you, Gino.” I place a hand in the small of Carla’s back. “This is Carla,
we work together.”

“Work?” His expressive eyebrows shoot up again, making his aging forehead a mass of
lines and wrinkles. “You are working somewhere else?”

I shake my head, hoping to cut him off before he says any more. “We’ll talk later,
Gino, okay? I don’t want to keep the lady waiting.”

“Yes, yes.” He waves a hand toward the main room of the restaurant. “Excuse my manners.
I’ve got a table waiting for you close to the floor. Just in case you change your
mind.”

Carla smiles at the older gentleman, but I can tell by the look she shot me that she’s
wondering what’s going on. Gino leads us into a dark interior, small lamps lit at
each round table, a huge piano dominating the center of the restaurant, with a small
dance floor in front of it.

We sit down and Carla says, “Who’s Ace?”