by L. D. Davis
Even though Kyle had the tendency to be a dick, I liked watching him talk when he was negotiating. He spoke passionately, expressively, and with a conviction not even the hardest ass businessman could ignore. As usual, I watched him as he spoke, watched him flash his million-dollar smile, and watched his muscles move under his dress shirt.
Oh shit. When did I start paying attention to that? I also watched his lips, and would find myself daydreaming about the places his lips had been on my body. I tried really hard to redirect my attention elsewhere, but it was a long meeting. At some point, I gave up, and let myself go a little wild in the head, remembering how his fingers felt on me, and in me. I looked at his hair, recalling how it felt to run my hands through it. When he looked over at me, my own face must have given me away, because I immediately saw something like lust form in his eyes before he reluctantly looked away.
A few minutes later, while one client was on a telephone call and his partner was speaking to the waitress, I jumped when I felt Kyle’s hand on my upper thigh. He didn’t look at me, and his other hand was out in the open on the table. He traced small circles on my thigh, slowly moving down my leg until he hit my stocking clad knee. He paused for a few seconds before moving his hand to the inside of my leg and traced circles up, under my skirt as far as his hand could go without making noticeable adjustments.
I froze, shocked and incredibly turned on. I didn’t know if I should move away, move his hand, pinch him, or shove his hand further up my skirt. Before I could figure out what to do, he pinched me so hard, I started in my seat. The motion somehow closed the distance between us, and his fingers were on my garter straps, following them up my thigh until he reached pay dirt.
I cleared my throat to cover the moan that started to escape my lips. The meeting was coming to a close, and Kyle reluctantly removed his hand. When the men departed, I slumped in my seat and noisily exhaled. I took the straw out of my girly drink and downed the thing in one swallow. I then reached over and drank the rest of Kyle’s drink, too. He watched me with amusement.
“It’s not funny,” I growled.
“Why are you so mad?” he asked, draping an arm around me.
I sputtered some incoherent words before growling in frustration.
“What?” he asked in a low, velvety voice. “You mad at me? Did I violate you?”
He was making a joke of it, which set my head on fire.
Our booth was in a back corner, and with the lunch rush long over, no one sat close by. The backs of the booths were high to give the impression of privacy. We were very much hidden from the view of the other diners. So Kyle felt free to put his other hand up my skirt.
I tried to clamp my legs shut, but he pinched my inner thigh again and my legs opened. I pushed at his arm just as his fingers found my clit. With a soft gasp, my eyes closed and I clutched at his arm instead of trying to push him away.
“Do you really want me to stop?” he whispered huskily in my ear.
I moaned in response.
“Ssshhh,” he admonished. “You can’t shout my name and call out for god this time.”
I felt my panties being pushed aside just before he slid two fingers inside of me. I bit my lip as I slid down in my seat to better accommodate him.
“I really want to take you into the bathroom and fuck you,” he whispered in my ear. “Shove your skirt up over your pretty ass and take you from behind while you hold onto the sink and watch me fucking you in the mirror.”
His words were undoing me. I licked my lips and tried to keep my moans quiet, but when his thumb began to press against my clit, one loud moan slipped through my lips.
“Be quiet or I’ll take you into the bathroom,” Kyle threatened.
I was tempted to make more noise so that he would drag me into the bathroom, but I had a little bit of rationality left to prevent me from going that far.
I could hear the chattering and laughter of other patrons, silverware touching dishes, and waiters and waitresses taking orders. Beyond that, I could hear the traffic of the city from outside, but above all of that, I could hear the wet sound of Kyle’s fingers thrusting in and out of me. At any given second, our waiter could reappear and he would know what my boss was doing to me under the table. Others could be brought in and seated across from us and they would know, too. Even if someone sat down behind us and couldn’t see us, they would know, if they had even a few seconds of silence, because they would hear what he was doing to me. It was this knowledge, the thrill of possibly getting caught, and Kyle’s fingering skills that I went flying over the edge.
Kyle quickly covered my mouth with his other hand as I began to groan. The smell was faint, but I could smell myself on his fingers since that was the first hand he had used on me.
I tried to keep my orgasm quiet, but if anyone was nearby, there was no doubt that they heard my muffled groaning or heard the rustle of my clothing as I stiffly jerked against his fingers. He didn’t stop stroking me until my body began to relax.
As the cloud of lust began to clear, my desire began to turn to anger and bewilderment.
“We agreed not to go there again,” I said, breathlessly as I pulled away from him.
Gazing hungrily at me, he said, “You started it.”
“I did not!”
“Oh no?” His eyebrows went up.
“No!”
“So, you didn’t purposely lean over me on Monday? Exposing your cleavage and perfuming the air with the scent of your hair I love so much?”
I stared at him. “I didn’t mean to show you cleavage.”
“Ah,” he smiled. “But you meant for me to smell your hair.”
I looked away, my face burning. “You needed to get a grip and calm down. Your attitude sucked and was fucking up the morale of the entire office.”
“But you did start it…”
I looked at him with what I hoped was a hard expression. “Now I’m ending it. Again. Keep your hands to yourself from now on. Now move so I can go to the bathroom and pull myself together, and for heaven’s sake go wash your damn hands.”
***
It was snowing again, this time on an early Monday morning, weeks after Kyle violated me in the restaurant. By the time I got into the building, I looked like the abominable snow woman. On the elevator, Luke from legal also looked like a snow beast.
“You’re melting,” he pointed to the puddle growing at my feet.
“I feel like the Wicked Witch of the West,” I said, looking at the growing puddle.
He did an impressive impression of the witch during her watery demise, making me laugh.
“Do witches eat?” Luke asked me after we reached his floor. He held the elevator doors open, surely pissing off anyone on the ground floor waiting for it to return.
“What?” His question caught me off guard.
“Do you want to have lunch with me today?”
It wouldn’t be the first time we had lunch together, but I declined more often than not. I didn’t have anything against Luke. He was a good looking guy. Okay, he was a very good looking guy. He was well built, with medium brown hair and natural blond highlights. His eyes were the most shocking shade of blue. Those eyes, that body, and his handsome face drove the women wild at Sterling Corp. He was also a nice guy and we had a similar sense of humor. He was easy to talk to, but I was usually too busy to have lunch anywhere but my desk.
My mom was right, although I would never tell her that. My job kept me from a lot of things. Not that I had considered rolling around in bed with Luke or even dating him, but I didn’t even open myself to any possibilities. Luke had not asked me for any kind of date, lunch or otherwise, in months. It could be my last chance. Besides, I had to get Kyle completely out of my system instead of revisiting those memories throughout any quiet moments of my day. What happened with him was ridiculous behavior not to be repeated, and we were supposed to be moving on. Therefore…
“Lunch would be great,” I said, surprising Luke. “How’s twelv
e-thirty?”
“Perfect.” He smiled widely. “Meet you at your desk? I will bring something.”
“Sure. Now get out so I can get to work.” I gave him a small shove and the doors closed.
“So, I guess I should have asked you this before,” Luke said later on our lunch date.
“Asked me what?” I said, after swallowing a forkful of salad.
“If you were seeing anyone. I ask you every now and then and most of the time you say no.”
“Oh.” I paused as my mind flashed Kyle’s face. “The answer is still no.”
“Cool.”
“I mean…” I trailed off.
“Yes?” He looked at me warily.
I thought it was best to be honest, without giving too much personal information away. Luke was a good listener and I knew that he wouldn’t spread any rumors about me, but I didn’t think I could tell him about Kyle. At least not directly.
“I’m not seeing anyone. I…” I hesitated. “I had a fling…thing…with someone not that long ago,” I admitted quietly.
“And you want more than a fling,” he guessed with a frown.
“No, no. I mean, maybe if circumstances were different…” I surprised myself by saying that. It was something I had never admitted, not even to myself, but I just said it out loud. I basically just said that my feelings for Kyle were more than just physical. It rattled me, but I couldn’t let Luke see that. I shoved the thoughts away and continued. “He’s had a steady girlfriend for a long time. It’s over, but it should have never happened.”
“Wow,” he mouthed the word.
“Yeah, I’m a horrible person.” I stared at my salad, my face red with shame.
“No,” he sat up straight. “I didn’t say that, and I don’t think that at all. I’m just…surprised.”
“Well, it’s over,” I repeated.
“Do you…have feelings for this guy?” he asked reluctantly.
“Not really,” I lied. “It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not mine to have and even though I hate his girlfriend, I’ll never feel right about screwing her over. I don’t like the guilt I feel.”
“Hey, we all make mistakes,” he said softly, giving my hand a quick squeeze. “But are you sure it’s over?”
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I said, “For me it is.”
“What about him? Is it over for him?” Just as he asked that, Kyle walked in. His eyes immediately fell on Luke’s hand resting on mine. His eyes flicked back to mine accusingly and he continued to boldly stare at me as he passed by.
“I hope so,” I whispered.
Luke looked at Kyle’s back with a thoughtful expression. If it connected in his head, he didn’t let on. He turned back to me.
“I had a motive when I asked if you were seeing anyone,” he said, with a sly smile.
“Oh?” I cocked an eyebrow.
“Would you like to go out on a real date with me?”
It would be nice to get out instead of working in my office or shuffling around the house alone, and I was ready to move forward. There was no reason for me to turn Luke down.
“I would love to,” I smiled warmly at him.
Later that night while I was reading in bed, my phone rang. I knew who it was before I looked. Kyle had been calling or stopping by a few nights a week just to shoot the breeze. I liked talking to him like this. He was only half as obnoxious as he was at work, and the conversation came easily. It was a compromise of sorts. We could carry on a friendship, but it had to stay out of the office, and it had to stay platonic. The last part was the hardest part.
“What was up with the hand holding?” Kyle asked after I answered the phone.
“It was a friendly gesture,” I said in a disinterested tone.
“You two looked really cozy.”
“Yeah. I suppose we were.”
“Are you sleeping with him?” he brazenly asked.
“Wow. Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I’m not. What if I was?” I challenged.
“There are rules against that kind of relationship at Sterling Corp,” he said smugly.
“There’s no rule against me sleeping with Luke.”
“Yes, there is.”
“No, there’s not,” I said with finality. “There are rules about not sleeping with one’s boss. He’s not my boss, but I guess you should fire me, because I did sleep with him.”
“He doesn’t count.”
“Neither does Luke. Is that the only reason why you called me? To question me about Luke?”
There was a few seconds of silence before I heard his sigh. “Maybe. I was curious, but I feel better knowing you’re not dating him.”
“I said I’m not sleeping with him. I didn’t say I wasn’t dating him.”
“You’re dating him?” I imagined exclamation points appearing over Kyle’s head.
“Kind of,” I answered with a casualness I didn’t feel. “He’s taking me out Saturday.”
“I don’t like it,” Kyle responded darkly.
“I’m not asking you if you like it, and I don’t really care,” I lied. “You’re stepping over that platonic line again.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.
“Yeah. Do you have anything else to talk about?”
Another hesitation, and then, “What are you wearing?”
“Goodnight, Kyle.”
I ended the call before he could object.
Chapter Eight
“Wow, you look hot.” Luke was standing at my front door, checking me out with a big shit-eating grin on his face.
I was wearing short shorts and a tee shirt so riddled with holes it looked as if I had been shot. A lot. The shorts and shirt had matching bleach stains and perpetually smelled like Lysol no matter how many times I washed them. My hair was in the messiest of buns and I was sporting a pair of pink rubber gloves that went almost up to my elbows.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, completely flustered to find him at my door.
“Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.”
“About what?”
“Our date?”
I shook my head. “Our date isn’t until tonight. Nine o’ clock.”
“Let’s face it, Emmy. We’re both getting a little too old for late night dates.”
“You meant nine in the morning?” I asked dumbly.
“Well, it’s nine, and it’s morning, and I’m here, so…”
I suddenly felt extremely stupid. Now it all made sense—the pancakes he wanted to treat me to, the trip to Atlantic City, and something about having me home before it got too late.
“I’m sorry,” I said, waving him in. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Yeah, but at least you’re appropriately dressed for our date.”
I threw a rubber glove at him. “Make yourself comfortable in the family room or living room, but don’t step on my kitchen floor.” I wagged a finger at him. “It’s still wet.”
I took the steps two at a time to go properly get ready for my date. I showered in record time, dressed in jeans, a tight black sweater, and a pair of black Timberland boots. I brushed my hair, pulled it back in a tight ponytail, and grabbed my leather jacket.
If getting ready for a date in as little time possible was an Olympic sport, I’d have a gold medal.
“You look fantastic,” Luke said when I found him watching ESPN in the family room.
“Thanks. I’m sorry I made you wait.”
“You didn’t take long at all, especially for a girl.”
“Well, thanks,” I said. I snatched my Coach bag off of the couch. “Ready?”
We decided to skip the pancake breakfast and hit up the drive-thru at Dunkin Donuts instead. We drove to Atlantic City talking, laughing, and arguing about what music to play on the radio. We were only forty minutes into our date and I was already finding myself attracted to Luke in ways I’d never thought I could be. Even though we had been friendly and flirty with each other for a long ti
me, I felt flutters in my chest for the first time. I tried to wave off what I was feeling, and nearly succeeded until we were on the boardwalk.
It was late January and the temperature by the ocean was always much cooler, especially with the wind chill. I should have worn a warmer coat, but I had chosen cuteness over practicality. Now I was paying the price. I was so cold that my teeth chattered violently, making a loud clacking sound.
Luke took off his coat and put it on my shoulders.
“Oh, no,” I said trying to hand it back to him. “You’ll f-f-f-freez-z-ze,” I managed.
“I will be fine until we get into the casino.” He again wrapped the coat around me. His hand briefly brushed against my cheek and the fluttering returned four fold. He took my hand into his and led me down the boardwalk.
We sat side by side for a couple of hours, leisurely playing the fifty-cent slots. At some point, we both turned in our seats so that our legs were entwined while we talked, played, and sipped on the complimentary drinks the casino supplied. We did a little shopping on the boardwalk and ate at the Hard Rock Café before jumping back on the expressway.
In the car, Luke drove with one hand on the wheel, and the other hand on the back of my seat. I leaned in his direction as much as my seatbelt would let me.
“I hope I didn’t bore the hell out of you today,” he said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I am having a great time. I have to admit, I’ve never had a first date at a casino.”
“It wasn’t one of my better ideas,” he glanced at me with a slightly worried look.
“No, it was fine—different. I like different sometimes. If we didn’t already know each other, it could have been awkward.”
He smiled at me, and we drove in silence for a couple of minutes. Every few seconds he would glance over at me, his smile unfading.
“I’m sorry I kept saying no,” I said, breaking the silence.
“What?”
“You’ve asked me out before, a few times over the years. I said no, and now I regret it.” I knew without looking that my cheeks were red. I looked straight ahead, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
