Systematic Seduction (5 page)

“Thank
you, Blair. I had a wonderful time. Sleep well.”

Oliver
waited until she was inside the door, then turned and headed for home before he
changed his mind and begged her to let him come up to her apartment. He knew
there would be no sleep for him tonight. The best part was that he didn’t even
mind. Blair was worth the wait. He knew it as certainly as he knew the stars
above his head were as fake as the black sky.

Chapter
Five

Blair
tried to remember the last date she’d had where the guy had not tried to get
her into bed, but she couldn’t. Actually, most of her dates hadn’t really been
dates
at all. They’d been more like
encounters where it had soon become clear what the true intentions were. Then
again, she hadn’t exactly had luck where men were concerned.

Shit attracts flies, flowers
attract bees.

That
had been one of her mother’s more annoying sayings. Blair assumed it meant she
was the kind of girl who would never attract a decent man, but she couldn’t be
sure. Her mother might have been talking about herself, for all Blair knew. She
had often gone off on tangents that Blair could barely follow.

Oliver
wasn’t like any of the men she’d known, but she had never assumed he would be.
She’d followed his dating habits online for seven years, and one thing he’d
said tonight was the absolute truth. She was unlike anyone he’d ever gone out
with.

She
didn’t care about his money or his prestige. Having one or both didn’t make
someone a good person, anymore than not having either did. He’d worked his ass
off to get where he was today, so he deserved his success and the money his
company made him. She’d never begrudge him that, and she wasn’t interested in
him because of it.

He
and the other Weathermen gave to more charities than she could count. They
funded the Storm Troopers, and they were doing more to find the hackers
responsible for fucking up The Madeline Project than Homeland Cyber Security was
doing, or anyone else for that matter.

After
hearing the story of how Oliver had nearly died in that building, she had even
more respect and admiration for him. He was brave and strong. That wasn’t a
quality she was used to in the men she’d known, either. He was a hard worker,
too. He didn’t merely sit in his wood paneled office and dictate to the
underlings. He was out among his employees, every day, working just as hard as
anyone on his teams.

He
cared about this planet and everyone on it. One of the reasons she’d been so
interested to hear how he’d met the other Weathermen was because of how hard
they all worked to find the hackers. She had no doubt they’d be the ones to
stop this, if it was possible to stop it at all.

And
now it was even more obvious they weren’t doing it for fame or glory. They were
doing it because they cared about every living soul forced to be here,
underground. They were doing it because they wanted their planet back. Oliver
and the other Weathermen didn’t come across to her as ruthless or ambitious,
like the tabloids made them out to be. She saw them as noble and courageous.
They were hero-worthy material, not scoundrels.

After
washing her face and brushing her teeth, she got into her favorite t-shirt and
shorts, then propped herself up against pillows in bed to see if there was a
movie to watch on her laptop. She could still feel Oliver’s lips against hers.
That second kiss had been so damn erotic. She had nearly parted her lips to let
his tongue inside, but he’d pulled away before she made the decision. Next
time.

Right. And if you do that, you’ll
end up in bed with him.

She
closed her laptop and frowned. That much was a given. How could any woman
resist him? But sex changed everything. What if she gave in and then things
went sour once he found out about her past? What if he grew bored with her the
way he did with all the women he dated, and moved on?

It
wasn’t like she’d ever had any decent relationships. She didn’t know how to
handle Oliver, but now that she’d kissed him, she wanted him. She wanted him so
badly!

She
was safer admiring him from afar. Safe in the fantasy world she’d created,
where he never tried to force her to do something in bed she didn’t want to do,
and where he never hit her or yelled at her, calling her names that left a scar
on her soul.

The
problem with creating a fantasy world was that it couldn’t keep you warm at
night, or fill the aching need for the touch of another human being. She’d let
him in too far now to retreat back into the secure little corner of her mind
where he’d lived all these years.

She
had laughed with him, and touched him, and told him about Donny. She had kissed
him, and he had kissed her back. This was real now. She was seeing him again
next Friday. Why had she asked to wait an entire week for their next date?

Because you’re a chickenshit.

True.
All true. But there was no turning back now. She was in this for the duration,
however short that might turn out to be.

Blair
brushed her hand over her nipples, imagining Oliver gently sucking and biting
them. His lips had been so warm when he’d kissed her. How would that mouth feel
on her breasts?

She
moaned softly and slid her hand into her shorts, rubbing her swollen clit.
Would he make love slowly, savoring every inch of her skin, or would he get her
so hot and bothered that he simply took her, rough and tumble?

As
she pushed harder against her clit, rubbing now in a familiar rhythm guaranteed
to make her come within moments, she closed her eyes and tried to picture
Oliver naked, his dick red and dripping with pre-cum, as he teased her with it.

Would
they make love next Friday? All she had to do was give him a little
encouragement. She’d seen the desire in his eyes tonight. The urge to call him
right now was strong. This would be a lot more fun with him here, helping her
along.

When
she came, she cried out softly and whispered his name, picturing those
beautiful eyes staring down at her in a candlelit room. She curled up on her
side and drifted off to sleep, a smile on her face as her erotic fantasies
turned into dreams.

****

Oliver
paced the office in his apartment. His laptop was open on the desk, and he’d
glanced at it every few minutes, but no one would call what he’d done for the
past hour and a half work. It was more like staring at the screen, not really
seeing anything on it. Even that wasn’t quite true. He saw Blair’s face on it.

He
could still feel her hand in his. The imprint of that chaste kiss had fueled
his desire for her more than the wildest lovemaking he’d ever experienced.
Every other woman’s touch paled in comparison to what he’d shared with her this
evening. He was smitten. He had been for a while now, but tonight had sealed
the deal forever.

From
the way her hair gently swayed when she moved, down to the chocolate-colored
boots trimmed with gold buckles at the ankles she’d worn, he was totally
captivated. He had her phone number. It would be so easy to call right now and
make up some excuse to come over. Would she see through it? Yes. No doubt about
that. But she might not mind. She might
want
him to come over.

He
sat down at his desk again and recalled their conversation. What was in her
past that haunted her? It was more than her short-lived marriage to that
complete moron. He sensed it. He debated whether to do some searching. He was
still her boss, after all. He had a right to dig into her background.

But
the fact that he hadn’t done so before now, or done so on any of the other
project leaders, nagged at him. He would be snooping into her life for all the
wrong reasons, and that was as much a violation of trust as if he’d turned
around and told everyone he knew what she’d confided in him tonight.

No.
He couldn’t do it. Whatever it was, she’d have to tell him on her own or he
would never find out. That was the only way to earn her trust. It was the right
thing to do.

Oliver
closed the laptop and made his way upstairs to his bedroom. Every woman he’d
dated had unknowingly endured a background check before the second date. Some
before the first. A man in his position had to be careful, after all. But that
excuse didn’t apply to Blair. He could have dug into her life well before now,
any time he’d wanted to.

He
tried to sleep, but that was a joke. Between the five-alarm fire in his stomach
thanks to the burger and onion rings, and picturing Blair naked in his bed, he
might as well stay awake all night and work. If only he could focus.

Rearranging
his pillows, he sat against the headboard and clicked around his video system,
looking for something that held his interest for longer than five seconds,
besides porn. He didn’t want porn. He wanted the real thing. He wanted Blair.

A
woman with her coloring was giving a guy with a cock the size of Mount Rushmore
a blowjob. Oliver watched, more amused than turned-on, because the woman kept
glancing into the camera. Why did they always do that? It ruined the voyeurism
aspect of it because each time they did it, the illusion they didn’t know they
were being watched was ruined.

Would
Blair enjoy giving him a blowjob? A horrible thought occurred to him. He hoped
whatever had happened in her past that she couldn’t talk about had nothing to
do with a man hurting her during sex, or worse, raping her. Because then he’d
have no choice but to hunt down the bastard and kill him.

Two
men were on the woman now. One in her mouth and one in her ass. Oliver flipped
off the video monitor. Porn was fine once in a while, but he didn’t need it
tonight. He only needed to picture Blair’s pretty face, her sweet smile, and
that sweater she’d worn. It was the color of a sunset, and it had made her
breasts stand out, perky and full. He was surprised she hadn’t noticed him
staring during dinner. Then again, maybe she had, and she hadn’t minded?

That
did it. The image of her raising her sweater to show off whatever pretty bra
she’d worn made his dick hurt. He freed it from his shorts and pulled on it,
closing his eyes to picture her removing a bra the same color as those boots.
He had no clue what her boobs really looked like, but he pictured them round
and full, with dusky nipples.

His
imaginary gaze moved lower, over smooth skin and down between her legs, where
he pictured a shaved pussy, glistening with juice. Soft moans escaped his lips
as he imagined what she would taste like, and how much she’d enjoy being eaten
out until she came. He loved eating pussy and watching a woman come. For Blair,
he’d do it every day if she liked it enough. Anything to make her happy.

He
stroked his cock harder and faster now, almost there, as he pictured himself
spreading her legs and plunging his dick into her waiting wetness. Oh, how he
hoped she enjoyed sex as much as he did! He desperately wanted to find out.

Oliver
was close now. He let go and gave his fantasies free rein, imagining all the
decadent things he wanted to try with Blair. He wondered how kinky she would
be. He groaned loudly as he reached the tipping point, and then let out a long,
loud exhale as he came in his hand.

The
fact that he should have grabbed a towel first had entered his consciousness
way too late to do anything about it. He didn’t give a shit. Blair’s face
floated in his mind, taking away the last of doubt and worry. He couldn’t wait
to see her at work on Monday, and attend the play with her on Friday night. If
the gods were kind, the fantasy he’d just indulged would become reality that
night.

After
he cleaned up, he crawled into bed, and let sleep overtake him. Erotic images
of him and Blair together chased him down into dreams.

Chapter
Six

Blair
had no time the following week at work to let doubt or fear creep in where
Oliver was concerned. She hadn’t known what to expect at work on Monday, but
she hadn’t had to wait that long. Saturday afternoon, she had a delivery that
turned out to be flowers, and not just any flowers. The bouquet consisted of
wildflowers she hadn’t seen since before moving underground.

Among
them were birdfoot violets, downy lobelia, and hepatica. Where he’d found them,
she had no clue. Flowers were very rare these days. They were difficult to grow
underground, and as such were ridiculously expensive. And these particular
flowers were mostly native to the southeast USA, which told her he’d chosen
them specifically.

She
had to sit down after she opened the box because she was so overwhelmed that he
would do this. No man she’d ever dated had done anything like this. She wasn’t
one of those women who had love notes or mementoes of romantic dates saved in a
shoebox. She’d never received anything like that.

She
had a note now. It had been included with the flowers. She grinned until her
face hurt as she read it three times.

The Burger That Seared His Heart. A
play by Oliver Fairchild. Written July, 2125. Brought to the stage, never.
(Because no one would ever agree to fund this piece of shit.)

Act One

Once upon a time there was a very
pretty, very sexy engineer who came to work for a BioSystems company. She was
extremely bright, and excelled way beyond anyone else, including the CEO. The
CEO fell hard for her, but she had other plans.

Act Two

The totally smitten CEO used his
magical super powers to lure her into going out to dinner with him, but she had
the final say. They went to a place that served onion rings and burgers from
Hades, and he was up all night from heartburn. She, however, was sound asleep
in her bed. Probably laughing at the CEO in her dreams.

Act Three

The CEO realized it wasn’t
heartburn after all. It was the desire he had for her, melting his heart. So he
bought her some flowers and told her he couldn’t wait to see her again.

The End

P.S. I really did have a fabulous
time. I’m kidding about the burger giving me heartburn. Can’t wait to see you
again.

Oliver, The Undiscovered Playwright
of SouthCentral

How
could any woman resist such a man?

Monday
morning at work, he kept coming to her office with so many bullshit excuses
that she was certain everyone on her team and most of the others noticed.
Marisol had the office next to hers, and poked her head in before lunch.

“You
have plans today?”

“You
mean for lunch? No.”

“He’s
not taking you to some fancy restaurant? You won’t come back to work slightly
drunk about three, then leave a half hour later with him, giggling the entire
time?”

Blair
grinned. “Sounds like you’ve been down that road before.”

She
laughed. “Not me. He’s not my type.”

“Really?
What’s wrong with him? What do you all know that I’ve missed?”

Marisol
perched on Blair’s desk. “Nothing’s
wrong
with him, if you don’t mind used goods.”

“Ouch.”

“You
know what I mean. He’s been around the block more than a few times.”

“Haven’t
we all?”

She
frowned slightly. “Just be careful, hon. All right? You know I worry about you.
You don’t go out a lot. It’s easy to get swept along by someone larger than
life like him. He’s very charming, very handsome, and very wealthy. But don’t
let him break your heart.”

Blair
forced her expression to remain neutral. She was quite practiced at that.
“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

Marisol
rose and walked toward the door. “It’s Roy’s turn to get sandwiches. You want
one?”

“I’ll
take tuna salad.”

“Okay.”

After
Marisol left, Blair closed her door so she could think. She knew Oliver’s
reputation. Everyone did. There were several women still working for him that
he’d dated. This wasn’t a shock to her, but hearing Marisol tease her brought
reality crashing down.

Is
that what she was now? His flavor of the month? That was exactly what she had
not wanted to become.

“Most of the women I date only go
out with me because of that reason. Because they know we’ll have our picture
taken, and they’ll get their faces and names on the tabloid websites, linked
with mine. They go out with me because I’m stinking rich and they think I’ll
take care of them for life. They go out with me because they want expensive
things. I can count the number who have cared about me—the person inside—on one
hand.”

Wonderful
words. She had no reason to doubt them. He wouldn’t feed her a line like that
because he knew how easy it would be to catch him in a lie, or discover he’d
said the same thing to everyone in this building he’d ever dated.

“That’s why I’ve wanted to go out
with you for two years. You’re not like that. You’re genuine and unaffected.
Plus you’re one of the most intelligent women I’ve ever met and I admire that.
It attracts me to you, as much as your looks do. More, in fact, because I know
I can carry on a conversation with you that has nothing to do with designer
clothes or rare gems. I know you won’t be glancing around to find the paparazzi
waiting to snap a picture.”

Those
words told her all she needed to know. He liked her because she was different.
Maybe he was ready for that? He was over forty now. Perhaps he was tired of
dating around? She shouldn’t let things Marisol or the others said get to her.
She had a right to make up her own mind about Oliver, as much as he had a right
to make up his mind about her. Neither one should have to take into account
what others said or thought about the situation.

Hadn’t
he said it didn’t matter if she wasn’t ready to talk about her past? That he
would be there when and if she was? Shouldn’t she give him the same
considerations where his past was concerned? She didn’t need to dwell on the
other women. He wasn’t dating anyone else but her right now. She only needed to
enjoy herself for once with a man who was romantic enough to write her a silly
play and give her flowers.

Oliver
was charming and confident, not to mention gorgeous. He wouldn’t try to force
her to have sex with his friends, he didn’t use drugs, he’d never committed a
felony, and he wouldn’t get drunk and try to hurt her.

She
hugged herself as her heart raced.
No!
Not this time
. No panic attacks today. The memories were not allowed to
control her.

A
soft knock on the door made her jump. She rose and opened it, smiling at
Oliver. He held out her sandwich, one of his own, and two bottles of iced tea.
“Roy said you wanted tuna salad. May I join you for lunch?”

“I
would love that.”

She
closed the door behind him. Let the others talk. They would anyway, so she
might as well make it easier for them to find something to say.

****

Blair
didn’t have one episode of overwhelming memories or panic attacks the entire
week. Oliver ate lunch with her every day, and stopped by her office or texted
her often. On Thursday afternoon, almost as soon as she arrived home from work,
a package was delivered to her apartment with something in it she could hardly
believe existed underground. Where had he found it?

It
was a bound script of “The Flick”, and she knew enough about scripts and plays
to know it wasn’t a fake. As she paged through the beginning, a text came
through on her phone.

I received a notification your
package was delivered. What do you think of it?

She
called him. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have via text. “Where on
earth did you find this?”

“I
didn’t. One of Addison’s teams did. He’s had it for a while. It was one of
those things that nobody had paid them to find, but they came across it while
looking for something else. Because his team members recognized how rare such a
thing was, they brought it when them. He has several offices in one building
filled with treasures like this.”

“But
… I mean…”

“When
you mentioned the play, I emailed and asked him if he’d ever run across
anything related to it. He found the script and sent it over here Monday
morning.”

He
spoke so matter-of-factly, as if he lavished women with rare and unusual gifts
everyday. Maybe he did, but to her, this was so special and thoughtful, she
didn’t have words.

“Oliver,
seriously, I don’t know what to say. Thank you isn’t enough. My goodness.
You’re spoiling me rotten.”

“I
like to spoil you rotten.”

His
voice was so soft and tender it took her by surprise. “Did you read it before
you sent it to me?”

“No.
I want to enjoy it for the first time with you next to me.”

Oh,
he was getting laid tomorrow. No way could she resist him now. She’d never been
treated like this. Not even close. He was a keeper.