The Fantasy (9 page)

She rocked back in her chair, her smile growing wider as she slid the pen across her bottom lip. “Okay,” she said slowly. “I’d say your job performance has been...adequate.”

“Adequate?” he said, baffled. “I think we both know that my skill set is far above the level of ‘adequate.’”

“Hmm,” she mused. “Well, your social skills need a bit of work, but you do seem to be extremely motivated to please, highly productive, and your job focus is unwavering. I guess I’m holding off judgment until I see how you close the deal.”

Evan had a distinct feeling that the conversation had veered off the professional line of questioning directly after he’d been told to sit.
 

He’d been trying to figure out what was different about her today. Since he’d gotten the job at Kelman Corporations, she’d been nothing but professional, and each day he’d been there, she’d demonstrated a work ethic that anyone would admire. Today was different though. She was more relaxed than he’d seen her before. Her hair was still perfectly styled, her makeup flawless, but it was her demeanor and...her blouse.

He hadn’t looked her over until right then, but as he let his eyes trail down over her collarbone, he saw that the respectable Ms. Spencer had left a few extra buttons open. She probably didn’t think he would notice something so inconsequential, but when you had masturbated to the point of hurting oneself while looking at a set of fucking pearls around said neck, you soon sat up and paid attention when it was bared to you.

“My social skills are lacking, you say?”
 

She leaned forward in her chair and dropped the pen on the desk, resting her elbows on it and causing her shirt to spread open a little more.

“Well, it’s understandable that you’re a little reluctant to open up.”

His eyebrow quirked as he looked down to get a peek of her bra before coming back to her face and stating, “Whereas you seem more than happy to…”

“To..?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” Glancing around, he noticed the diplomas hanging on her wall. “NYU, huh?”

She followed his gaze and nodded. “Yeah. For my master’s.”

“And before that?”

“Before what?”

“Before NYU. What’s your story?”

She shrugged and sat back in her chair. “Are we playing Twenty Questions now?”

“Are you gonna answer every question with another question?”

“It’s just not important.”

Evan studied her carefully. “Well, it seems only fair. You know everything about me.”

“Yes, but we hired you. It’s my job to know what I’m getting myse—our company into.”

“So, your favorite restaurant growing up was called..?”

She laughed and shook her head. “McDonald’s.”

“And the names of your parents are..?”

Reagan rolled her eyes and pointed to the door. “Get back to work.”

***

“We make a good team,” Reagan said the following week as they walked out of the conference room and through the lobby. They’d just finished presenting their collaborative merger project, and it had gone surprisingly well. “Frankly, I’m a little shocked.”

“Oh yeah? Doubting my ability to perform, were you?”

As she pushed the doors open to the street, she shot him a look that said,
Really?
and he laughed.
 

“All right, all right. We make a very good business team. I agree.”

“There. Was that so hard?”

As he strolled beside her down the sidewalk, he shook his head. “Be proud of me. I’m keeping my lips zipped.”

She snorted. “Yeah, that’s about the only thing you keep zi—” She stopped herself before she could finish the sentence.

“Hey, I’m trying here.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

You wouldn’t be sorry if you knew every way I’ve thought about fucking you.

He felt a grin quirk his mouth as they continued back to the office in comfortable silence until the growling of her stomach had him stopping in his tracks. “Lunch?”

She pressed a hand to her belly and glanced over at him. “It’s daylight, so eating together is allowed now, huh?”

When he nodded, she pointed at a Thai restaurant across the street.
 

“Does that work for you?”

“I’m always down for hot and spicy.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you are.”

He felt Reagan’s gaze on him as he scarfed down his second helping of Pad Thai. Lowering his fork, he raised his eyes to meet hers.

“I thought you said you liked hot and spicy?” she commented, spearing another forkful of red curry chicken. “
That
is neither.”

“I like to switch it up. I’d get bored ordering the same dish every time.”

“Hmm. That’s interesting. Says a lot about you.”

“What can I say? I like a change now and then. Speaking of...” He wiped his mouth and put the napkin back in his lap. When he spoke again, his voice took on a more sober tone. “Thank you. You know, with the job, this account—everything, really. Many wouldn’t have given me a chance, and I would’ve deserved it. So...I appreciate it.”

She regarded him thoughtfully, her head tilted to the side. “Everyone makes mistakes, Evan. It’s how you deal with the aftermath that counts.”

Pretty sure she wouldn’t agree with any of my methods.

Rubbing his jaw, he said, “I don’t think I’ve been doing a very good job of dealing with anything lately.” He looked up at her with haunted eyes, his voice dropping down to barely a whisper. “I just don’t know how...” he trailed off, losing his nerve.

“You don’t know how to what?” she prompted.

He focused on her and decided that maybe it was time to open up to someone. “To stop. I just don’t know how to stop.”

“I’m curious,” she said before taking a sip of her water. “You have a healthy...appetite, that much is clear, but so do a lot of people.”

“Yourself included.”

Her lips lifted in a half smile, and she nodded. “Myself included. So what’s the tipping point?”

“The tipping point?”

“Yeah. What makes it get out of control?”

“I don’t think you wanna know.”

She gave him a look that made it pretty clear what she thought of that, but in case he’d missed it, she told him. “I’m a big girl, Evan. I can handle it.”

He knew what she was asking for, but he wasn’t sure she could handle that. How could anyone understand what he did when he thought no one was watching?
 

She waited, an expectant look on her face, and he felt his defenses slowly crumbling. Shifting in his seat so he was leaning in close across the table, he lowered his voice and locked eyes with her, not giving her any chance to escape the intensity he knew was in his own.

“Have you ever wanted something so much you’d do anything to get it?”

“Of course.”

“What if that meant giving up every good thing in your life for it? For a high that lasts only minutes before you’re chasing it again. When you’re down to the last few dollars in your bank account and you’d rather call a sex hotline instead of eat because your hand just isn’t getting you off, and the thought of going another minute without coming is what you think would kill you. When your first thought after finally landing a new job isn’t that you can pay your bills, but that you can finally afford the high-class hooker with the tightest cunt in Manhattan to fuck you instead? That’s the line. That’s the difference.”

Reagan’s eyes had widened throughout his speech, and as she sat there staring at him with her mouth slightly parted, he wondered what the fuck she was thinking.

“Hey,” he told her and reclined back with a shrug, trying to appear indifferent. “You asked.”

Several seconds passed before she nodded and managed to pull herself together enough to ask, “Have you ever tried to stop?”

He put his napkin on the table, and returned her stare, refusing to feel any more humiliation than he already did. “And how would you suggest I do that?”

“Have you ever talked to someone?”

“Of course.”

“And obviously abstinence doesn’t work.”

“Obviously.”

Her lips curved into a cheeky smile as she suggested, “This may sound crazy, but what about monogamy?”

At that suggestion, he blew out a breath. “The last woman I dated said she wished I’d fall in the Kaptai Lake and have my dick eaten off by a swarm of hungry piranhas. So, no, it didn’t end well.”

“Where the hell is Kaptai Lake?”
 

“Exactly. I had to look it up. Remind me never to go to Bangladesh.”

“Well, shit.”

He let out a humorless laugh and watched her tap her manicured nail against her lip.
 

“Well, look. You have the job. Just don’t fuck it up, okay? Pun intended.”

“I’m trying not to. But keep in mind, I’ve been promising my family the same thing for years now, and if I can’t seem to get it right for them…” He trailed off when he saw an expression flash across her eyes. Interest? No...but something.

“You’ve hardly mentioned them since starting. Are they from around here?”
 

“No,” he replied but gave nothing more. His family was not a topic he wished to discuss.
 

He watched her out of the corner of his eye. If she was flustered by what he’d said, she wasn’t showing it. She seemed to take the hint and went back to eating without saying another word.

But when he picked up his fork and reached over to spear a piece of her red curry chicken, she looked at him in surprise.
 

“What?” he asked, an innocent expression on his face. “I wanted to taste hot and spicy after all.”

***

Evan turned his SUV onto the dark, familiar street lit only by a flickering lamppost and rolled down the window. The night was sticky with humidity, and the sidewalks seemed to be deserted in favor of air conditioning. That or business was good.

He spotted a couple of shadowy figures in heels standing on the corner and dimmed his lights as he eased his Range Rover in their direction. One of the women was tall with skin the color of rich coffee, and the other a scrawny redhead. Both were similarly dressed in tiny miniskirts and the highest heels he’d ever seen, leaving no dispute over exactly what it was they were doing on the street after dark.
 

He hadn’t intended for things to get this bad. But it’d been two fucking weeks since he’d come, and if he didn’t get a release soon, there was no telling what the fuck he would do.  

As he slowed to a stop in front of the women, they turned and sauntered toward him. That close, he wasn’t altogether sure that the redhead wasn’t a guy and, upon further inspection, he still wasn’t positive, so he looked behind them to see if his regular was nearby.
 

“You lookin’ for something, sweet thing?” the taller woman asked as she pulled her tube top even farther down to showcase her breasts. They weren’t anything spectacular, but he supposed she would work in a pinch if it came down to that.

“Is Layla around?”

The woman’s penciled-in eyebrow arched, and then she crossed her arms, seemingly put out that he’d asked about someone other than her.

“Layla’s already busy for the night. You’re too late for that piece of ass, sugar.”

Evan tightened his hands around the steering wheel as he thought over his options. Then he glanced back at the woman whose hip was resting against the side of his car door.

Fuck it.

“You. What’s your name?”

As she bent down so she was face to face with him, the side of her painted lips curved and she told him, “Violet.”

His eyes flicked over to where the redhead was walking away after realizing she, or he, was obviously not who he was interested in.
 

The fact of the matter was that he wasn’t interested in either of them. The woman he was fixated on was off-limits. Better to slake his lust here than risk losing his job for cornering his boss and pounding into her for some kind of fucking release.

“Okay, Violet. Get in.”

He pushed the seat back as she opened the door and slid in, angling her long legs towards his. Immediately, she was on him, running her long nails over his chest as he raised the window and drove away from the corner.
 

“What’ll it be, sugar? You an ass man? Or maybe you’d like a good titty fuck?” She removed her hand and grabbed her small handfuls, massaging them as she licked her lips.
 

Glancing briefly at her movement, he snorted.
Wouldn’t be enough
to
titty fuck.

She stopped rubbing herself and jerked away from him. “Whatchu snortin’ about, classy dick? You picked
me
up, remember?”

He turned the car into an unilluminated alley and shut off the ignition. There was no way in hell he was bringing a hooker back to his place, and he sure as fuck wasn’t spending money on a hotel room for a five-minute job.
 

He unzipped his pants and pushed them down, pulling his cock free. He’d gone commando for easy access, and even without being hard, her eyes flared with interest.
 

“I think just a hand job will work for tonight, Violet,” he said as he pushed his seat back.
 

Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine he was anywhere other than in his SUV with a fucking hooker. When her fingers wrapped around the root of his cock, he hissed from the sheer relief of having someone other than himself touching his flesh.

In that moment, he didn’t care who she was or how she looked. Nothing mattered but the fact that she was tightening her hold on his dick.

While he pushed his hips up off the seat, he heard her moan at his movements, but he wasn’t interested in her pleasure. He was interested in his own. And as her fingers started to stroke up his length, his erection started to take notice.

The dry rub wasn’t going to work for long, so he cracked open his eyes and asked, “Lube?”

She gave him a cunning grin and flexed her fingers, making his jaw clench. “That costs extra.”

“I’ve got the fucking money.”

She pursed her lips at him and glanced down at his dick before returning her focus to him. “Sure you don’t want my mouth instead?”