Authors: Dahlia Dewinters
“You don’t like it?” he asked again.
Francis didn’t miss a trick.
She nodded and scooped a forkful of mashed potatoes in her mouth. “No,” she said when her mouth cleared. “I love it.”
Still, he watched her and she stabbed some green beans and shoved those in her mouth.
“You can have mine, if you don’t like yours.”
Violet burst out laughing, covering her mouth to avoid spraying half-chewed green beans all over the table. “I don’t eat baby sheep. You’re a terrible person, with your lamb chops.” She shivered in mock disgust. “I should report you to PETA.”
“You report my lamb chops, I report your fur coat.” He cut the meat, chewed and swallowed with exaggerated relish. “Despite what you tell people, it’s not fake.”
“My parents bought that for me. It keeps me warm.”
“You shouldn’t lie, Violet, it’s bad for the soul.”
She reached for her wine glass and took a large swallow, the alcohol warming her stomach and rising to her face. “Sue me then.”
His eyes glinted behind his glasses. “I’d rather spank you.”
Violet flushed, the blood roaring in her ears. She’d rather he’d spank her too. Feeling hot, she looked back down at her plate, at the candles, anywhere but at him. “You’re terrible, Francis,” she managed to say and took another swallow of wine.
He refilled her glass. “Glad you think so.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes.
Violet broke the silence. “Thank you. This is nice.”
“It follows the rules, doesn’t it?” He dropped the cover on his plate and drained his wine glass. “Keeps it in the office?”
“Yes,” she said. “It does.”
“Why the rules, Violet? What are you frightened of?”
She stared at her plate for a moment, thinking. Then she looked up at him. “Because you and I are business partners. It could turn messy.”
“Could is a conditional term. If we haven’t been at each others’ throats in the past two trying weeks, I think we could get on pretty well.”
Violet toyed with the last of the potatoes, drawing a pattern with her fork. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But I’ve been through the wringer. I’m a little shy.”
He smiled a little. “Didn’t stop your curiosity.”
Violet raised a hand to her face. “Please, don’t bring that up. I was tipsy. God, how embarrassing.”
“It’s not every day that I’m asked to prove or disprove a rumor about…”
“Don’t say it.” Her face was hot with shocked embarrassment. “It’s horrible enough to remember.” She giggled a little. “It was a spur of the moment question. If you had been a gentleman, you would have ignored it.”
This time Francis laughed aloud. “With your hand down the front of my pants?” He shook his head. “Who am I to deprive you of the answer to your question?”
“Jesus.” Violet tossed her napkin on the table and shook her head. “I must have been out of my mind.”
“I call it persistent.”
Before she could speak again, he reached down next to him and placed a long, narrow box on the table. “Bought it for your birthday, but wanted to give it to you now.”
She didn’t reach for the box. “Liar. You didn’t buy this for my birthday.”
“Open it.”
Violet couldn’t take her eyes off the little black box. Francis, what are you doing? He was breaking out of the neat little compartment she was trying to keep him in. A Valentine’s Day gift. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
“First tell me the truth.” She gave him a steely glare. “Come on.”
He had the good nature to flush, splotches of colors showing high on his cheekbones. “Yes, I bought it for Valentine’s Day.” He cleared his throat. “Happy? Now open it and stop giving me a hard time.”
With a trembling hand, she reached for the box. The leather was cool under her touch. The green bow slid off in one smooth motion and she flipped it open. Nestled against the black velvet was a silver filigree chain with a mouse charm. The mouse was studded with clear crystals from the tip of its tiny nose over its rounded belly to its tail. Pink crystals accented the ears.
Violet pulled it from the box and held it up, the chain warm in her fingers. She couldn’t do any more than that. Her breath hitched in her chest as she stared at the jewelry.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “I love it.”
Francis cleared his throat. “Well, you have to put it on, to see if it fits.”
He got up and stood behind her, took the delicate chain from her fingers. He brushed her hair off the nape of her neck, the brief touch of his fingers making her shiver. The silver was cool against her skin and the charm, when fastened fell against the swell of her breasts. She brushed it with her fingers.
“I love it,” she repeated, tears stinging her eyes. She blinked quickly, fighting them back. The dinner, the present, it was too much. Being tired made her over-emotional. “Thank you, Francis.”
“I thought about what you said, about the mouse versus the swan thing and while I don’t quite agree, I do understand your thought processes. I saw that, and thought about you.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “I found it to be a very pretty mouse.”
He was so near to her, his proximity, his scent was nearly too much. “You keep this up, Francis, I’ll be so head over heels for you, and you won’t be able to get rid of me.”
“That,” he resumed his seat, “is what I’m hoping for.” He poured more wine in her glass. “For the road.”
****
The pink-white glow of the outdoor lights illuminated their two vehicles parked next to each other. Francis’ hand at the small of her back was welcome, even comfortable, and she allowed herself to lean into him as they walked out. She waited as he locked the lobby door, her breath pluming in the cold night air.
Francis looked around at the nearly deserted parking lot. “The coffee shop lights are still on.”
Violet turned around. “Maybe he’s busy grinding beans for tomorrow.”
Francis glanced at his watch. “He’s there mighty late.”
Violet shrugged. “Probably left them on by mistake.”
At the car, Francis took her into his arms and kissed her, running his hands under her coat.
“You look beautiful, hot, and edible.” He nipped at her earlobe and planted a kiss at the curve of her neck. “I’ve wanted to do this all day.” He claimed her mouth and kissed her with such intense passion that it left her breathless.
She slid her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with an equal passion, every nerve in her body awake and tingling.
Kneeling, he ran his hands up the silky nylon to the warm skin above the band of the stockings and slipped her panties down her legs. He pushed her skirt up to where she could feel the whisper of cold across her pussy and then she was enveloped by the warmth of his lips and tongue. Sighing at the contact, she closed her eyes and spread her legs wider, each hot stroke of his tongue against her clit pushing her closer to climax.
The pressure of his mouth intensified, making her gasp, and clutch at his head while trying to maintain her balance. Her nipples tightened, rubbing against the lining of her bra, increasing the frenzied ache between her legs. She braced herself, one hand against the car and one against his shoulder as the physical sensations increased, waves of pleasure coming one after another until she cried out with her climax, digging her fingertips into his shoulders.
He stood, his hands busy under her skirt as he continued to press and stroke the slick intimate flesh. Pleasurable aftershocks darted over her skin and she grabbed his hand to still it. “Are you trying to kill me?” She panted in his ear. “You’re terrible.”
“I know,” he whispered against her neck, his lips soft and warm against her skin. Again, his mouth covered hers, tasting, and exploring even as he continued to slide his fingers against her.
Violet stroked his thick hair, the tight curls crisp between her fingers, finding the place at the back of his neck where the hair was silky and smooth. If she could be anywhere, at any time, it would be right here. “But we can’t do it in the parking lot,” she protested.
“Nobody’s here.” He kissed her again, flicking his tongue against hers until she couldn’t think of any reason why this wouldn’t be a good idea. She fumbled at his zipper, and gripped his erection, sliding her fingers along the hot skin.
He shivered at her touch, reacting to her eager caress. Touching him increased her excitement, made her entire body long to be filled.
“Hurry…hurry,” she moaned, squeezing and stroking.
“Jesus, Vee, if you keep doing that, they’ll be no reason to hurry. Here,” he shoved the foil packet into her hands.
With expert fingers, she ripped the foil packet open and rolled the rubber on. Francis placed both hands against her bottom, lifting and bracing her against the car. The head of his cock nudged between her legs and slid into her with a quick push, eliciting a surprised “Oh!” from her and bringing them face to face.
Violet bit at his lip and then kissed him hard, carried away by the raw excitement of the act, the cold of the night air contrasting with his warmth.
His body was heavy against hers, pinning her against the side of her car, each thrust deep and measured. Francis murmured against her neck, tickling her. She gasped with delight, eager for more, her inner muscles squeezing him until he moaned.
His hips moved faster, teasing her until the sensations became unbearable. With a loud gasp, she climaxed, writhing, trapped between him and the car, a death grip around his neck.
Francis buried himself inside her, deep, her spasms urging him to his own release.
When they had both regained control, he lowered her to the ground, holding her firm until her legs became steady.
They both fixed their clothes. Violet adjusted her skirt, smoothing the fabric down over her legs. “I think I liked that better than the necklace,” she said.
He kissed the side of her face, then her lips. “Come home with me tonight, Violet.” He tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging at her hair.
“Francis, I can’t.” She buttoned her coat. “It’s complicated with us.”
“It’s not that complicated.” He adjusted her scarf, tucking it into her collar. “It doesn’t have to be.”
“When it comes to me, everything is. I have to go. Thank you so much for the necklace. I love it.” Putting a hand on either side of his face, she kissed his lips, a gentle touch. She opened her car door, slid into the seat, and started the engine.
“Vee…” He grabbed her door before she could shut it. “You still insist on dodging me. Remember, I have a lot of patience.”
Violet tipped her head and grinned. “That’s what I like best about you, Francis. See you in the morning.”
He shut her door and she drove off.
Chapter Thirteen
Alyssa sat down with her bottle of Coke Zero and tapped on her keyboard to bring her screen to life. She was making awesome progress on the program and a whole day left until deadline, she was more than certain that they were going to make it.
She clicked on her working file and sat back in her chair. Alyssa stared open-mouthed at her screen for a second. She then clicked on the rest of the files she’d been working on. She rechecked the file names to make sure she was clicking on the right file.
Nothing but gibberish. There were no neatly indented lines of orderly characters that made sense. Everything was gone.
“Pete!” She called across the divider. “Are you having trouble with your files?”
“If trouble means that the shit is gone, then yes.”
“
Sugar
.” Alyssa drank some soda. “Where’s Rogers?”
“I’m right here.” He stood next to her, a cup of coffee in his hand. “All my stuff’s gone too.”
Alyssa typed frantically on her keyboard, hoping against hope that she’d made a stupid mistake and saved it under another name. After a few minutes with Rogers breathing over her shoulder, she sat back in her chair, defeated.
“All our shit, all that hard work, all that is friggin’ gone.” She turned to look at Rogers. “What the hell happened?”
****
The bad news left Violet stunned. Yesterday, she had been on top, they had beaten whoever was trying to beat them. Now? They had nothing.
When the office door opened, Violet didn’t look up from where she was crunching figures on her computer. There was nothing left to do, really, but decide how much longer they were going to be able to pay the lease on the place as well as their employees.
“Francis, we have to decide if we’re going to keep the programmers or give them their two weeks’ notice. I’m not sure if we can still carry the lease, but that’s in the business name, so that’s not a big… What’s this?”
The huge purple arrangement that Francis placed on her desk was beautiful but the look on his face was less than pleased. “You tell me.”
“They’re not from you?”
He jammed the card in her hand. “They’re from ‘a friend’,” he said. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know who they’re from.” She glanced at the card and dropped it to her desk. “And I don’t appreciate—”
“Are they from Joe?”
Now that made her angry. “Jesus God, Francis, I just said I don’t know who they’re from!”
Francis gave her a speculative look. “I say that because you and he were rather cozy there. Free coffee and all.” His tone was mild but direct. “Talking and chatting with each other.”
What could she say to him? “That’s all it was, talking.”
“Apparently it means more than that to him. Word around was that he was into you.”
Violet snorted. “Don’t tell me you listen to idle gossip from those airheads in the design school. I thought you knew better than that.”
“I thought I knew
you
better than that.” He glanced at the flowers. “This is why it’s complicated for you?”
“I don’t know who the flowers are from. What else can I say to you?” She needed to show him clear-eyed reason. Then they could go back to how they were. “This is why I should have never had dinner with you. You’re acting possessive. Aren’t you more evolved?”
Francis stared at her, his cool façade crumbling before her eyes. “Do you think I’m some kind of machine?” He leaned toward her, over the desk, lowered his voice. “You think I can fuck you for months and not feel something for you? If that’s evolved, then throw me back in the Stone Age.”