Breathless (62 page)

I finger the buttons on my coat, one by one. They make no sound as they open and expose my warm skin. Jesse, still wrapped up, and growing increasingly frustrated by his conversation, continues to look out the window. As I open the last button and shrug out of my coat, he glances over his shoulder. Even on his countenance, I see his heart stop, stutter and then pick up at an erratic pace. It’s nice to know the blue piece I bought at Victoria Secret wasn’t a waste of money after all. His suddenly hungry eyes roam me from head to toe as I stand in front of the couch in nothing but his favorite color. Heat blooms between my legs and I lower myself onto the couch. With a light expel of air, I run a finger along the hem of my panties, teasing him and myself.

“Peter,” he warns the man on the phone again and my lips pull at the sudden hoarseness in his voice, “I have something more important I need to take care of right now
before
it gets out of hand.”

I smile and bite my lower lip as I slip a finger under the fabric. Panic flashes ever so briefly over Jesse’s face and it’d be a lie if I said it didn’t turn me on. I pull my panties to the side and run two fingers over my wet center. I gasp at the sudden friction—a friction I haven’t felt in a long time because of the man in front of me. I circle my little bundle of nerves. I’m so turned on, so needy for him, I’m soaked instantly. I think of the beach and of him between my legs with my nipple in his mouth. I move faster, letting my head drop against the back of the couch. Since he’s on the phone, I try to be quiet. I bite my lip and grit my teeth marveling over how quickly I’m climbing. I fall into a haze and at some point… Jesse ends his conversation. I don’t realize my eyes are closed until I feel large hands on my outer thighs. He kneels and slips his body between my legs and I’m startled by his sudden nearness. I open my eyes, and the sight of his handsome face so close to mine, is enough to throw me over the edge and into the abyss of overwhelming pleasure. With my free hand, I grip his bicep and fall further and further with each torturous second. Against his waist, my legs squeeze him with a weak, shaky grip. His breath is hot and fast on my face and his darkened eyes never leave mine. I feel relieved… my whole body is tired and feeble,
but
at the same time, my climax is both underwhelming and unsatisfying. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to hold out long enough to coax him into doing it himself. As the effects wear off, the sound of our heavy breathing in the quiet room becomes almost unbearable and I feel an embarrassing heat spread over my face. I shift my position, pulling myself up so that my spine is flush against the back of the couch, and straighten an invisible skirt against my thighs. Perhaps, I didn’t think this through enough… though it wouldn’t be the first time.

I survey Jesse’s face. There’s an intensity I’ve never seen before, and it both thrills and terrifies me.

“If you want to do something, do it.” I tell him, curious for his response.

“I want to do a lot of things.” He replies, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it wouldn’t be right.”

“Nothing we’re doing is right. Lunches, dinners and an orgasm? Tell me how often a boss and his employee make a deal like that?”

A new found heat rises in the pit of my belly and I can’t ignore it as it forces me to slip closer to Jesse. Lifting my legs, I lock them around his hips and squeeze him closer to me. Through his slacks, I can feel hid hard cock. It presses against my center and it takes everything I have not to grind myself into it.

“There’s no point trying to pretend you’re not doing anything wrong, Jesse. You’re bad—just like me—only I have the balls to admit it, and to do something about it.” I slip my fingers into his hair and pull his face closer to mine—until my bottom lip grazes his. “There’s more to what we’re doing, isn’t there?”

I run my tongue along his dry bottom lip and his breath hitches.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, and I look him dead in the eyes.

“Figure it out.”

I plant a soft kiss on his lower lip and push on his shoulders. He sits back on the heels of his shoes and watches me, confused as I slide off of the couch and reach for my coat. I try not to make eye contact with him as I slip it on and handle the buttons. I’m confused too. Did I ask him for a relationship? I don’t think so, but I’m sure it can be interpreted that way.

Oh god.

How did he interpret it? I clear my throat and try not to think about it as I turn away from him and march over to my shoes. Without a glance over my shoulder, I slip them on and exit his suite before I can say or do anything else I’m not certain of.

I pull my hood up as I walk to the elevator and as soon as I’m inside and descending the floors one by one, I close my eyes. While I definitely enjoyed myself, I know I should’ve forgone this whole plan and stayed home with a book. You can re-read a chapter, but you can’t redo a real life situation.

Chapter Nine

Jesse

I roll onto my back with a sigh, and glance at the digital clock above the wall mounted flat screen. It’s been two hours since she left and I’m still awake thinking about her, and what she did. I never expected her to show up here; not in a million years. I mean, I’ve dreamt of it, and I’ve imagined it during meetings, but I never thought it would happen. In my imaginings of it, she never had to please herself and she would never orgasm just the once. Over and over I would make her break apart—on my hands, on my tongue, on my cock—
fuck!
My hard erection aches and I wince as it tents the bed sheets.

Defeated, I reach for my phone off the side table and squint as I unlock it. Despite my better judgment, I scroll down to her name and click the message icon. I hate texting… mostly because I don’t have the time or the patience to read the damn things. Regardless, I type one out anyway.

To: Alix. Time: 2:24 am

Did you arrive home safe?

I wait barely a minute for her response but the minute seems to drag on forever.

From: Alix. Time: 2:25 am.

I left your place hours ago and

you’re texting me that now?

Ohh… wait a minute.

You’re lying awake in bed,

aren’t you?

Her cocky arrogance comes through clearly, even in text, and as badly as I want to ignore her now that I know she’s at home safe… I don’t.

To: Alix. Time: 2.29 am.

I’m not the only one lying

awake in bed it seems. What

are you doing?

My phone buzzes. Man she texts fast—much faster than I can. I ignore the thrill that zaps my organs as her name flashes up on my screen. In the back of my mind, her previous question nags at me.
There’s more to what we’re doing, isn’t there?
I suppress it, refusing to think about it right now.

From: Alix. Time: 2:30 am

I think ‘what are you wearing’

is the sexier term…

I’m reading. What about you?

To: Alix. Time: 2:34 am.

I’m trying to sleep… trying

being the key word. Thanks for

that. You should sleep. I checked

your schedule. You start early

tomorrow.

I re-read my text over and over. Perhaps I shouldn’t have let her know I was checking on her. Then again, if I didn’t want her to know I wouldn’t have told her. Her question rears its head again and I push it to the very back of my mind.

From: Alix. Time: 2:37 am.

Checking my schedule? I bet that

made you question what exactly

it is you want with me…

As for sleep, you know what they

say: ‘one more chapter’.

I smile.

To: Alix. Time: 2:39am

How many chapters have you read

since you told yourself that?

I get an instant reply.

From: Alix. Time: 2:40 am.

Seven and a half… don’t you dare

judge me. One more and I’ll go to

bed. Maybe.

P.s. You want me so badly right

now, don’t you Mr. Never Texts?

I pause before replying. I shouldn’t text back.
Dammit!
I shouldn’t text back. My fingers itch and I want to respond so badly. I want to tell her yes. I want to send her a detailed message filled with all of the dirty and naughty things I want to do to her. Instead, I lock my screen and sit my phone on my bedside table. I go back to staring at the clock above my bed. I watch the minutes flick by one after the other until twelve whole minutes have past, and then I can’t take it anymore. I grab my phone, unlock it and type out my response.

To: Alix. Time: 2:52

Okay. You win. I DO want you.

I want you more than I’ve

wanted anyone in my life. I’m

kicking myself for letting you

leave here earlier. Stay with me

tomorrow night and I’ll show you

everything you want to see.

I hit send before my brain can stop me. I stare at the screen as more minutes tick by. I wait and I wait and I wait for some kind of clever, egotistical response… but it never comes. I picture her lying in bed with a book open on her lap. I imagine her ugly cat-thing snuggled in beside her and a wide, smug grin on her face as she purposely ignores my text. I’ve finally caved and now I’m right where she wants me.

***

Alix

“You’re happy this morning,” Roger, the jolly door man tells me as I approach the main entrance to the hotel.

Thankfully, he wasn’t on last night when I came in wearing nothing but a coat on top of my underwear.

“It’s a good day,” I say, as I pull a bill from my skirt pocket and give it to him.

I don’t know how much it is, but it doesn’t matter. It’s the thought that counts.

If only Roger knew why it’s such a good day. Last night Mr. Jesse O’Ryan sent me a text I never thought I’d receive from him, and I didn’t reply—on purpose too. You see, I’m a big fan of cat and mouse, but I’m
always
the cat and just for once, I’d like to be the mouse—a mouse with sharp teeth, of course. The only down side of the morning was the phone call from my mother. She insisted I come over for dinner tomorrow night. Apparently Grace, my younger sister, has something exciting to share with the family.

Gag.

Ignoring that, I practically bounce through the lobby and into the main bar area. I move lightly and quickly—as if I’d drunk four cups of coffee with breakfast. I contemplated four, but stopped when my heart started beating its way through my ribcage at two and a half. I’m going to crash hard in a few hours, but right now, I’m walking on rainbows.

Marise is manning the bar all by himself and as I approach, I take note of his stiff, uncomfortable posture. He spots me not a second later and offers me a small wave. Usually, any greeting with Marise involves screeching, balloons, and glitter throwing. Okay, maybe not the latter two, but you get the idea. It’s then I notice the man in the dark gray suit sitting on the stool in front of the bar; and there’s only two men who can make even the liveliest employee in this hotel do his job—Jesse or his father, William. I’m willing to bet my entire book collection that it’s not Jesse’s father sitting at the bar at nine in the morning drinking wine.

“Jes—” I pause and glance at Marise who quirks an eyebrow at me. “Mr. O’Ryan?” I quickly clarify.

He whirls around on his stool to face me and,
holy shit,
he looks tired—and drunk. He sways briefly before leaving his seat.

“Alix, there you are.” He attempts to stuff his hands into the pockets of his jacket, but misses.

I peer around him and over to Marise. “How much has he had to drink?”

He shrugs. “One. He was drunk and sitting here before I started.”

I look back to Jesse with a glare. “What are you doing? You’re going to get yourself in troub—”

He presses his long index finger against my lips and cuts me off “You shush your pretty mouth. You didn’t text me back last night.”

With a snort, Marise turns and begins to ‘clean’ glasses. I know he’s pretending because the bar hasn’t been open for long. How many glasses could we have gone through already? I snatch Jesse’s wrist.

“Marise, can you call security and have them take Mr. O’Ryan back to his room before any guests recognize his stupid face.”

Jesse feigns insult in that annoyingly adorable way only drunken people you care about can do.

“Sure.” Marise reaches for the phone, but Jesse yanks his hand back and spins around.

“Don’t call security. I’m not drink at all,” he says while swaying and convincing nobody. “I just want to talk to Alix and then I’ll be on my way.”

I shake my head and take his wrist in my hand again. “I’ll take Mr. O’Ryan back to his room. Do you think you can look after the bar by yourself for a little while longer?”

“I think I can manage.”

Without hesitation, I pull Jesse along behind me. His steps are heavy and loud, and draw the attention of everyone we walk past. Thankfully, none of them seem to take a second look.

“You didn’t text me back.” He announces—rather loudly—as we approach the elevator.

“Shut up,” I snap over my shoulder and slap the ‘up’ arrow.

As the light goes green and a ding sounds off, the doors open and I shove Jesse inside. I hold my breath until the doors close and the elevator begins to rise. I watch the lights as the floors fall away from us one by one. I need to stash Jesse in his room until the alcohol wears off. I can’t risk having him walking around demanding to know why I didn’t text him back. Unexpectedly, the elevator stops halfway and as the doors open, I grab Jesse by the jacket and pull him against me so the newcomer doesn’t see his face—or mine—as I hide myself with his body. Hopefully, we look like a man and a woman too involved in each other to notice anyone else. As I hold him against me, he finds it funny to toy with the strands of my brown hair and hold it over my top lip. He smiles widely at my ‘moustache’.

“It suits you,” he states, and I swat him away.

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious,” I deadpan.

“You need to lighten up.” Two index fingers find their way to my face and he pokes them into my flesh, forcing me to smile.

I need to lighten up? That’s extremely rich coming from him.