Authors: Ashleigh Royce
I moaned into her neck. “I just can’t stay away from you.”
She turned to face me. “Well, harness that energy. You’ll need it once we get back to your apartment.” She switched off her desk lamp and grabbed her purse. We walked to the elevator holding hands.
Once the empty Chinese food containers were disposed of and the dishes
were drying in the rack, I crawled onto the couch where Rebecca was stretched out. I was lost in her large, brown eyes. They made me melt. She ran her long fingers through my hair. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“You.”
She smiled. “What about me?”
“I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re so many wonderful things in such a beautiful package. It makes me wonder why someone hasn’t scooped you up.”
Her smile faded and her hand stopped stroking my hair.
“I’m sorry. You asked me what I was thinking?
”
“I know. I didn’t mean to get weird. I just have a hard time talking about myself. I’m very guarded.”
I sat back on my legs and hooked a loose lock of her hair behind her ear.
She sat up.
“I just don’t want to get hurt. Once I give my heart, I give the whole thing.”
I pulled my
legs out straight and shifted so that I was sitting next to her. “And I certainly don’t want to hurt you. I know I may not be like the other guys you’ve been with, but there’s more to a relationship with me than just sex. I don’t want to get hurt either. I’ve had my share of crazy, superficial women.”
Surprise washed over her face. “Oh, I didn’t think we were that shallow.”
My shoulders dropped. “No, I didn’t mean to imply that you were shallow. I like how I feel when I’m with you. The things you do to me. I just want to get to know you. Find out about who you are. Share things. You’re just always professional, except when we’re having sex. I feel like that’s who you are but I haven’t figured out how to translate your energy into personal information. I want to know you intimately on both levels, physically and emotionally.”
She look
ed down at her hands. “You express yourself so… eloquently, do you know that?”
I perched her chin on my finger
. “You’re eloquent. How you hold yourself, the way you move, the things you say to your clients, how you run your own business and demand the best. I admire you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you command a room. People watch you. They revere you, and not because they have to, because they want to. You’re beautiful and I feel amazing things when I’m with you.”
Her eyes sparkled. She reached over to kiss me.
“Nu uh. I’m holding back until you tell me something about yourself.”
She leaned back and pouted. “What do you want to know?”
“Where do you see yourself in five years?”
She ingested the question. “Well, five years ago I would have said the owner of a successful literary agency.
But now, now I’m not sure. I don’t have a plan beyond being the number one agency.”
“What about marriage? Kids? Things like that?”
She looked down. “I… I can’t have kids.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” I felt like a jerk.
“No, no. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.” The lock of hair I had hooked over her ear fell forward. “I told you about my strict stepfather, right?”
I nodded.
“Well, it was never a secret that he didn’t care for me much, at the beginning. He always put my younger siblings,
his
children, before me, even if I needed something and they didn’t. When I was sixteen I developed a resentful independent streak. I challenged everything my stepfather said. I figured he didn’t like me anyway, so what would it matter what I did? Apparently, it did matter. We got into a heated argument about some issue I insisted on being right about. During our ‘misunderstanding,’ as my mother likes to call it, he slapped me across the face. The force was so strong I was knocked off balance. I fell on top of a chair and broke it. A piece punctured my side.” She pointed out a scar I hadn’t noticed before. It was a faint line on the side above her hip.” It ruptured something inside. There was a lot of blood. I was rushed to the hospital. I remember the paramedics working on me. Their bloody latex hands moved too fast for me to track what they were doing. One said he was losing me. I thought I was dying. I was losing a lot of blood. I blacked out before getting to the hospital. When I came to, the doctor told me that I landed in such a way that one of my fallopian tubes was crushed and my uterus was badly damaged. And, although I was only sixteen and not ready to think about having children, he wanted me to know that my chances were so against me that I would probably never get pregnant.”
She hung her head
to hide her tears. Suddenly, I wondered if I had ever thought about having children before, or if it was important if I found the perfect woman and she couldn’t.
I
pulled her into my arms as if that gave her the permission she needed to grieve over this loss. Having her that close to me cemented my feelings. I had never felt this way about any of the other girls I was with. She cried for a good ten minutes. When she stopped she looked up at me.
“I’m sorry. I’ve haven’t let go
of my emotions like that in a long time. Thank you for being so great about it.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I want to be here for you.”
She kissed me. Her lips were soft. Just them being pressed to mine caused my body to respond, but I didn’t want to make the next move because I wasn’t sure if that would be insensitive. She made that decision for me. Her tongue parted my lips and rolled over mine. Her fingers combed through my hair as her kiss became more urgent. Both of my heads swelled. I couldn’t tell which one was in control, or maybe I had surrendered to Rebecca. Her hands found the button of my waistband. She tugged at it and the zipper went down when it opened. She pawed at me until my pants were tossed across the room. While still connected at the mouth, I fumbled for the buttons on her blouse. I managed to get the top two open when she pulled it up over her head. She reached to her back and opened the button to her skirt. She stood momentarily only to slide it down her legs. Her perfect figure was accentuated by the red lace bra and panty set she wore. My breathing got heavy.
I got up from the couch, scoop
ed her up, and carried her into my bedroom. Laying her gently onto the bed covers, I pulled my shirt off and threw it onto the floor. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra. It fell forward to reveal her perfect breasts. My hands cupped them. I bent my head down and sucked on one, rolling my tongue over her hardened nipple. Her heart pounded against my cheek. I moved to the other breast and gave it equal attention. She threw her head back and moaned.
Trailing kisses down her stomach to her navel, I licked around it before continuing downward to
the top of her panties, planting kisses along the elastic barrier. Then I smoothed my hands down her legs, taking the lace fabric with them. She lay completely naked on my bed. I was so ready. I wanted her, but she needed me. My pleasure would have to wait. Easing her legs apart, I skimmed the inside of her thigh with my tongue. She wriggled.
“Don’t move,” I whispered. She nodded.
I skimmed the inside of her thigh. Her flawless skin pimpled at my touch. I ran a finger over her clitoris. She was so wet, so reactive, so ready. With the pad of my thumb, I circled her as I slid a finger inside. Her hips gyrated with the same rhythm. Her rapid breathing told me that she was building. I leaned in and pressed my tongue flat against her clit. The change in sensation caused her to suck in a breath. I took it as a good thing and began a relentless movement of my tongue, alternating between flat, slow strokes and fast, thrusting motions with the tip. Her hips bucked upward. Her hands clutched at the blanket. Soft moans gave way to shouts of ecstasy as I sucked her most sensitive spot. And just as she reached her climax, I stopped.
I stood, pulled my briefs off, and
thrust into her. She yelled some garbled word of pleasure as I moved in and out of her. With each thrust I felt my own pressure build. I watched her body absorb me as I pushed into her. She grabbed my arms, her grip tightening with each prod. She was the sexiest woman I had ever been with. Powerful and smart. It turned me on just thinking about it. And now I was inside her. She wanted me and it made me high. One last push and I was at the pinnacle. I stilled inside and let go.
I rolled onto my side and looked up at the ceiling as I tried to steady my breath. A light film of sweat covered my body. The heat from Rebecca’s arm was against mine.
A few minutes passed and I turned to look at her. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. I wondered if we had been staring at the same spot. A tear slid down from her eye to her hairline near her ear. I propped myself up on my elbow. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Rebecca… it’s not nothing.”
She laughed. “You used a double negative.”
I laughed too. “I’m allowed.” I smiled at her. I stroked her wavy brown locks.
“Alex, I think I’m falling for you.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t let too many people in. And now you know how broken I am.”
I looked into her eyes. “You’re not broken. You’re… edited.” Her eyebrows plunged and her mouth twisted. “You’re like a best selling mystery where the reader learns a little at a time. It’s not good to know all of the information all at once. The audience needs time to ingest. That’s why they invest so much time into a good story. Now I have a little piece of information. I know what makes you the way you are, why you’re so guarded and driven. But I also know what makes you so wonderful. And the more I find out, the better the story.”
She rolled onto her side so she was face to face with me. She kissed me. It was a chaste kiss.
“Besides,” I said. “I think I’m falling for you, too.”
She smiled.
I ran a hot bath for Rebecca. “Join me,” she pleaded.
I got in behind her and pulled her back against my chest. It felt good to have her in my arms. As I kissed the top of her head, I inhaled the fragrance of her hair; lilacs and cocoa butter. It caused a surge in testosterone to churn inside of me. I scolded myself to control my libido and just enjoy holding her. She laced her fingers in mine and we sat quietly until the water turned cold.
After wrapping her in a towel and pulling her close, I gave her
one of my tee shirts to wear and I put on some lounging pants. We stood side-by-side making omelets at eleven-thirty at night. We made a good team, timing the eggs and toast perfectly. We sat on the couch and ate without words. Insisting she leave the dishes, I told her to get to bed, reminding her that Fridays were always a push to get the whole week’s worth of work wrapped up before the weekend. She nodded and retreated into my bedroom.
After running a bit of water and dish soap into the frying pan in the sin
k, I snuggled up behind her, took her into my arms and nuzzled my nose into her hair. Mmmm, lilacs. Her body relaxed and we fell asleep.
Light filtered through the slats of the mini blinds on the small bedroom window. Using my hand to shield my eyes from the bright assault, I looked around to find that I was alone in my bed. I ran a hand across the sheets. It was cool. My head whipped around for any evidence of Rebecca. The tee shirt she had worn
to bed was folded neatly on the dresser. I jumped out of bed and into the living area. No sign of her. Panic filled me. My heart pounded. Thoughts of her leaving sent waves of adrenaline through me and my head made up a hundred reasons for why she wasn’t there. I scanned the room. Something was off. Then I realized; there was a note taped to the television. I pulled it from the screen.
“Raced home to change clothes. See you at the office.”
She signed it with one of her doodle hearts and a capital R. My shoulders dropped and I relaxed. I went into the bathroom to shower and take care of the necessities. There was another note on the mirror.
“Used your toothbrush. Sorry.”
This one was signed with a winking smiley face and her signature R.
I got
dressed and raced to the office, but stopped at the deli for a couple of breakfast sandwiches and coffee before riding up in the elevator to the eleventh floor. As the door was closing, Katie shoved her arm to stop it.
“Good morning, Katie,” I said.
“Morning, Alex. How are you today?” She was cheery, her demeanor different from the last time I had run into her. A pretty clip held her red hair in place at the base of her neck. It matched her dress.
“I’m well. Looking forward to the weekend?”
“I guess. I don’t have anything planned. You?”
“My days are up in the air, too.”
We didn’t speak for three floors. Then she broke the awkward silence. “We should get together. Grab a drink and hang out or something. Get to know each other.” Her tone sounded more like forced conversation rather than genuine interest.
“Yeah. Sounds good
.” The bell indicated that we had reached our floor. The doors opened and I bowed slightly indicating to Katie she should exit first. “Well, have a good day,” I said, veering off toward my end of the office. She’s a bit strange. I shook it off and attributed it to her being new and not knowing me.
“You too,” she yelled
.
I walked up to Rose’s desk, which was empty. Then I remembered she
was taking the day off because she was going to visit her grandkids over the weekend. I thought about how if I stayed with Rebecca I couldn’t give my parents that same gift. That was a long way off. I didn’t even know if I’d still be with Rebecca; she might get bored with me or decide that being involved with a co-worker wasn’t a good idea. I’d worry about kids if and when the time came.
I entered my office and closed the door gently. Rebecca
sat at her desk. I walked right to her, placed the bag with the sandwiches and coffee tray down on the edge of her desk and leaned over her to press my lips to hers. Before pulling back, I gave her another small kiss.
“Well, goo
d morning to you, too,” she chuckled.
“I missed you.”
She smiled. “I missed you, too.”
“Thank you for your notes. They
helped me keep my sanity when I didn’t see you.”
She looked down at the surface of her desk. After she collected her thoughts, she looked up. “I panicked
, too.”
My eyebrows plunged and
my mouth tensed.
“I… I’ve never told anyone the things I shared with you. Even my mother doesn’t know I can’t have children.”
“I thought you said you were challenged, not that you couldn’t.”
“What’s the difference?” She fell back into her chair.
“You can never give up hope. And, you could always adopt. What’s the difference? You’re not ready now anyway.” I leaned over her chair and placed a kiss on her forehead. “In the meantime, I’d love the job of practicing with you.” I smiled.
“I
’d like that. You have very impressive skills. You’re hired.” She laughed. Her mood shifted.
“That’s more like it. You have a great laugh.”
She rolled her eyes. “Let’s get to work. We have a busy day.”
I grabbed the stack of papers I wanted to discuss and took my us
ual seat in front of her. We alternated between bites of our breakfast sandwiches while we talked about each manuscript.
Lunch provided another look at how Rebecca handled business. We took a cab uptown to meet Chester Martin III, the owner of the largest literary agency on the west coast and all around entrepreneur. He had his finger, and even some toes, in every pot he could – computers, restaurants, fashion, literary & media. Rebecca spent the entire ride fixing her make-up.
“Is he really that big of a deal?” I asked.
“Are you kidding?” She looked at me with cynicism. “He could be the key to having Stratford Literary be a country-wide success.”
“How so?”
She shifted to half face me. “Chester has stakes in several money making ventures. He owns quite a number of small businesses that do very well, and he keeps his involvement secret, for the most part. He builds up each business so that they’re financially stable, have the right people in charge, and exposed in the right circles.”
“Is Stratford L&M in financial crisis?”
“No, silly. But with Chester’s backing, Stratford Literary could excel on both coasts. We’d reel in clients from all across the United States and increase our international market by twenty percent. Then Donovan Richards will crumble.”
“Boy, you really hate him.”
“I do.” She re-applied her lipstick just as we pulled up to the restaurant. I salivated as I watched the tubular make-up run over her lips, the lips I wanted to kiss.
“
Rebecca, how wonderful to see you again. It’s been too long.” Chester Martin III was an older man, whose designer socks probably cost more than two month’s rent for me. Grey hair was perfectly combed to the side and blue eyes glowed from under dark brows. An expensive suit covered a tall frame. He appeared to be a man who kept up with the latest fashion trends. Rebecca’s haberdashery friend, Craig would be proud.
“Chester, how are you?”
Rebecca’s Book Bitch persona took over.
He l
eaned in and they air-kissed. “I’m doing well, but not as well as you, apparently. Look at how marvelous you look.”
Rebecca pulled her head back and tapped his arm. “You’re too kind. Chester, I’d like to introduce you to my new protégé, Alex Ryan. I’m grooming him so that he can help me achieve world domination in the litera
ry business.” Her tone was bouncy.
I played my part.
“Mr. Martin, it’s a real honor to meet you.” Martin shook my hand. Confidence exuded from his firm, no nonsense grip. There was no mistaking that this man was a powerhouse and he knew it. I imagined the threat to the literary world if Rebecca teamed up with him.
During lunch,
Rebecca and Chester exchanged thoughts on existing and upcoming authors. Still, Rebecca was careful not to let too much information slip out. Brief comments regarding publishing houses flipped back and forth through the main course. By dessert, Chester had gotten to the crux of the meeting. Rebecca’s cell phone rang a few times, but she pushed the calls to voicemail. That told me how serious she was about this deal.
“So Rebecca, I’ve thought about your proposal.” He dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin before placing the bunched up fabric on the table next to his empty pie plate. “I would like to have our legal departments hash out the details for a contract. Can I have Ermaline call your
legal person this afternoon to get started?”
Rebecca’s face lit up. “Yes, yes. I’ll have Jayne put together everything we’ve discussed. You won’t regret this.”
Martin smiled. “I know I won’t. You’ve proven how far you’re willing to go to succeed. I like your gumption, Rebecca. Not all agents show the same style, flair and sophistication the way you do, while catering to the needs of all players in this game. You’re professionally thorough.”
“Thank you, Chester. That is a very high compli
ment. You’ve just made my day.” She flashed him a wide smile and sat taller in her seat.
Rebecca picked up the tab on lunch, which was more expensive than Chester Martin’s socks tenfold. He walked with us to the front of the restaurant.
“I’ll be in New York for a few days. Meeting with old friends. Perhaps we can get together for dinner tomorrow evening.” His tone was suggestive. I didn’t like it.
This is where I changed my mind about how great C
hester Martin III was. Was all this deal-making contingent upon his getting into Rebecca’s pants? My eyes widened, waiting for Rebecca’s response.
“Oh Chester, I’d love to, but I have another engagement. Books don’t sell themselves, you know. I barely have time to do laundry with the schedule I keep.” She gave a small laugh to fluff him off.
“Perhaps the next time then.”
“Definitely,” Rebecca said.
He reached his hand out to me again. “Great meeting you, Alex. I look forward to our future interactions.” I shook his hand. It was just as firm as the first time. He leaned in and gave Rebecca a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for lunch.”
“You’re welcome, Chester. Have a safe flight back.” When he was out the door,
Rebecca let out the breath she was holding through the entire meal.
“I didn’t know you wanted to expand.”
“Well, I don’t make it a habit of sharing my plans until they’ve been finalized. But if you’re going to be my right-hand man, you need to be involved in all of this now.”
We hailed a cab and went back to the office. A
s we got off the elevator, Jayne, normally head of the legal and accounting aspects and personnel of the company, jogged toward us. She was covering Rose’s desk while she was out. “He insisted on waiting for you. I tried to tell him you had meetings all day. He wouldn’t leave. Your cell phone kept forwarding me to voicemail. Sitting on the small couch in the waiting area by Rose’s desk was Donovan Richards.
As
Rebecca walked passed him into our office, she asked, “What do you want, Donovan?”
Donovan followed her. “Becky
, is that any way to treat me?”
I walked in behind Donovan. Rebecca stood behind her desk. A scowl replaced the smile she was wearing all afternoon. She waited for Donovan to speak.
“I heard you were having lunch with Chester today.”
“What’s it you
r concern with whom I lunch, Donovan?” Rebecca’s tone was stern, angry.
“Becky
,” he tried to quell her agitation. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You know Chester and I are old friends. In fact, I’m having dinner with him tomorrow night. Why don’t you join us?”
Rebecca
’s face registered surprise. I knew what she was thinking. She took in a breath and straightened her posture. “I think we’re finished here, Donovan. You remember where the door is.” She waited until he turned and left. I closed the door just as he crossed the threshold. Rebecca fell into her chair.
“Are you
all right?” I asked, approaching the desk, but not making a move to touch her. I wasn’t sure if she wanted that.
“I hate him,” was all she s
aid before picking up the phone. “Chester, it’s Rebecca… Yes, I enjoyed lunch, too… Listen, I just ran into Donovan. He mentioned you were going to have dinner together. How worried should I be about this? Does he know of our business arrangement?” She listened. My heart hammered, wondering what he was saying. “Yes, well I’ve cleared my appointment for tomorrow night. It looks as if I will be joining you after all. Okay. See you then.” She hung up and grabbed her purse off the desk. “Let’s go.”