by Jillian Dodd
“So, then, you better get on her today,” Riley says as I head out.
I see Keatyn’s still at her desk. She waves me in.
“You and Riley okay?”
“Yeah, we’re good. You know all my brothers are encouraging me to, uh, get back in the saddle again.”
“Dawson, you’ll know when the time is right. Actually, it sounds like the time was almost right yesterday.”
“How long do you think a widow should wait before he starts dating again?”
“My mom started dating about a year after my dad died.”
“How old were you?”
“Almost ten.”
“And what did you think?”
“I was kind of a little shit about it, until she met Tommy. Are you thinking about asking Vanessa on a date?”
“Maybe. Does Captive have a rule about that?”
Keatyn grins. “That rule is only for your brother. And, technically, Vanessa isn’t an employee. So you like her, huh?”
“Yeah, I think I do.”
“Good, we have a meeting with her in your office in ten minutes.”
“We do?”
“Yep. I want to get you both up to speed on Daddy’s Angel. I’ll see you in a few.”
As I walk out of Keatyn’s office, Tyler joins me. “I have all sorts of stuff for you in your office. So do you like the decor?” he asks me.
“Yeah, it’s great,” I reply, taking it all in again. The walls are dark teal and there is a coffee table made from a tree trunk sitting in front of a comfortable brown leather couch. I have an industrial looking desk with a lush suede chair to match.
“Keatyn worried about the color.”
“She has good taste.”
“That she does,” he says. “Have a seat. On the desk, you have your new cell phone, business credit card, business cards, swipe key to access anywhere in the building, and laptop.” He hands me a piece of paper. “After your meeting with Vanessa and Keatyn, you have an appointment with Human Resources to get your benefits set up, and then a meeting with the marketing staff. From there, you’re having lunch and playing golf with Riley, Dallas, and Knox.”
“Golf? I’m not really dressed for that.”
Tyler turns and presses his palm into the wood-sheathed wall behind him. A door pops open revealing a large closet stocked with clothing ranging from golf attire to formal wear.
“Behind here,” Tyler says, opening another door, “is your full private lavatory. There are many times when you will go directly from work to another event, so all the executive suites are set up in similar fashion.”
“Wow,” I say. “This is great.”
“And there’s Vanessa,” Tyler says. “I’ll leave you now. I’m interviewing assistants for you today. Do you have any special requirements?”
“Can you clone yourself?” I joke.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, exiting, and leaving me face to face with Vanessa.
“Good morning,” I say politely.
“Good morning,” she replies brusquely, setting her briefcase on the coffee table. She’s wearing a tailored black skirt that reveals long bare legs and leopard print high heels, but all I’m seeing is her lying on the bed last night, naked.
I feel myself start to harden.
And it drives me toward her.
“I’m sorry about last night,” I tell her, sweeping her into my arms and lowering my lips to hers.
At first, her body feels stiff against mine.
But as our lips touch and our tongues collide, her stance softens.
She returns my kiss with passion.
I hear Keatyn say, “Oh, um, I’ll just be in my office whenever you two are finished with your, uh, meeting.”
Vanessa untangles herself from my arms and looks up at me through long dark, lashes. Then she laughs. “You have a little—” Her thumb glides across my bottom lip. “—lipstick on you.”
“I love your red lipstick, but I probably shouldn’t wear it to a meeting,” I laugh. “We better go.”
Vanessa walks to my door, but then leans her back against it, facing me. “In case you couldn’t tell, I’m forgiving you for last night. But for the record, if you’re ever lucky enough to get me naked again, I expect you to follow through.”
I lean my body into hers, pressing her against the door, and kiss the hell out of her again.
After our meeting, I follow her back to my office.
“Keatyn didn’t say anything about us kissing. I thought she would.”
Vanessa doesn’t respond. When my office door shuts, she locks it and takes off her jacket. And the way she’s eyeing my new desk makes me very thankful that my office doesn’t have glass walls like my brother’s.
I know exactly what’s going to happen next.
I pick her up and set her on my desk as she undoes my belt. I don’t have time to think about if I should or if I shouldn’t.
She unzips my pants and untucks my shirt, kissing me hard as her nails scratch down my back.
I roughly push her back on the desk, causing her skirt to ride up around her waist, and allowing me to push aside the thin strip of lace separating her from my dick.
My fingers slip into her. Fuck, she’s wet. Thank god, I jerked off in the shower last night, or just feeling her would have me blowing my load.
Her arms are wrapped tightly around my neck, and we’re kissing deeply. Ravenously. Her tongue sucks on mine like she owns it. I’ve never been kissed like this before. I’ve also never felt such pure, raw desire.
I push my boxers down, pulling my dick out, and push into her. Harder than I planned, but I can’t help it. She moans into my mouth, setting me in motion. I grab her ass and pull her toward me, thrusting deeper. She spreads her legs wider by wrapping them around my waist. I can feel a spiked heel raking across my back with every thrust.
She grabs my tie, pulling it tightly, as her breathing gets more ragged. When she tightens against me, I know she’s on the verge of orgasm. I take her hips tightly into my hands, moving her quickly with me, as I plunge into her, quickly pull out, then thrust in again.
“Oh, fuck,” she says, moving her lips from my mouth to my neck. She sucks my skin into her mouth, but the harder I thrust, the more she uses her teeth, biting me. I go faster, harder, rocking her against my desk, and finally lose control.
I pull her into a hug while trying to catch my breath.
“We better get cleaned up before someone comes looking for us,” she says, the blood returning to her brain much faster than mine. I was just thinking that as soon as I could breathe again, I’d move her to the leather couch and start round two.
“Oh, yeah, probably,” I reply.
She starts to push away from me, but I hold tight, putting my lips on her neck and slowly kissing up to her ear. “Now, I’m really sorry about last night.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “That’s fucking right. You should be. Now, let me go clean up.”
“I have a bathroom,” I say, trying to pull out without making a mess and realizing I didn’t use a condom.
She runs to the bathroom. I grab a couple napkins off the bar and clean myself. I’m buckling my belt when she returns.
Her hair is mussed, her cheeks are flushed, and the red lipstick is gone.
God, she’s beautiful.
I have to taste her lips once more.
“I like your office,” she says, coolly. “That was fun, but we both have meetings to get to.”
“Uh, okay,” I say, a little shocked at how business-like she is acting all of a sudden.
How can she be so together when I feel like I was just taken completely apart?
She unlocks my door and grabs her jacket. “You might want to take a quick look in the mirror.”
I watch her ass until the door shuts behind it.
I straighten my tie, tuck my shirt in better, and then go look in the mirror.
There are red lipstick stains on my cheeks, neck, and
lips, not to mention on my shirt collar. My hair is a mess and there’s a bite mark on my neck.
I quickly take off my shirt and tie, throwing it into the bag designated for dry cleaning. A little soap, water, and some scrubbing have the lipstick off my face. Not much I can do about the bite mark. I reach around and feel my lower back, then turn to examine it in the mirror. Nail marks show where she scratched my back and there’s a chaffed spot from her heel.
I should be freaked out by the fact that I just fucked a co-worker on my second day.
That I smell like sex and her perfume.
That I didn’t use a condom.
But I’m not.
I feel fucking amazing.
I throw the closet doors open and choose a black shirt with a wide spread collar, thread a Hermes belt through the loops, and decide not to wear a jacket.
There are a few different brands of cologne on a shelf but I forgo it and head to my meeting.
As I walk by Riley’s office, Vanessa steps out. “I understand you’re golfing this afternoon.”
“Uh, huh.”
“I’m told you will be done in time to accompany me to an event tonight. I’ll be at your house at eight.”
“Uh, okay,” I say, stumbling on my words.
“And your brother would like to see you before your meeting.”
I walk into my little brother’s office, forcing myself to be cool. “What’s up, Riley?”
“I asked Vanessa to accompany you to an event tonight,” he says with a grin that implies I’ll get laid.
“What kind of event?”
“Some sort of fundraiser for the Arts. Captive bought a table.”
“Will you be there?”
“Nah, after golf, I’m taking Jennifer to Vegas. We’re celebrating.”
“She signed the contract?”
“Yes, sir,” he says proudly. “Now, we’ll work on a more personal contract.” He studies me. “You look different. Did you change?”
“Tyler told me I should be more casual.”
Riley moves closer to me, studying me and narrowing his eyes. I tilt my neck slightly to the side, hoping to hide the mark. “You look happy.”
I smile. “I really think I’m going to like working at Captive Films.”
Vanessa’s Estate - Holmby Hills
VANESSA
“Ariela, is this crazy?” I ask, carefully sliding on another black stocking.
“Are you kidding? He’s going to love it.”
“But I lied to him. I told him we were going to the event when I have no intention of doing so.”
She laughs. “I don’t think he’ll mind.”
“So, tell me what Keatyn said when you talked to her,” I say.
‘Well, she told me they want to get married in less than three weeks. On October the eighteenth.”
“Can you do it?”
“She says the vineyard works regularly with an event company, so it shouldn’t be a problem getting flowers, tables, linens, things like that. I’m worried about a cake.”
“I’m sure any cake company would fit it in, just so they could brag about the wedding.”
“If we could do that, it would be easy. But she doesn’t want anyone to know it’s a wedding.”
“Right,” I say, knowing that, but trying to decide if I should do what I’m about to do is consuming my brain. “Which shoe do you like? No, I take that back. Which shoe will Dawson think is sexier?”
“That one,” she says, pointing to a black caged bootie with silver straps that have a bit of a dominatrix look. “And if I had to worry about a venue, I’d say it couldn’t be done, but it sounds like she’s got that covered. I just need to see it.”
“The vineyard is gorgeous. Acres and acres of grapes set on rolling hills. Their house is built on the highest point and from the back you can see the ocean.”
“She said something about a barn? I just can’t picture Keatyn getting married in a barn.”
“Oh, this isn’t just any barn. This is the barn Aiden built just for her parties. It’s gorgeous. All wood and beams. If it weren’t for the fact it’s in the shape of a barn, has barn doors, and is wood, you wouldn’t even call it a barn.”
“Oh, now you’re getting me excited!” Ariela says, her eyes wide and a big grin on her face. “Did I tell you I’m going there this weekend?”
“You did. But lie to me. Tell me it’s my outfit that has you excited and not the barn,” I joke, throwing on the fur coat. “Okay, here’s the full effect.”
“You look amazing. I should hug you before you leave, because I don’t think Dawson will let you out of bed all weekend.”
I laugh, hoping she’s right. “So were you able to get ahold of the investigator today?”
“Yeah,” she says with a sigh.
“Did he find out something, already?”
“Yeah. He got someone to follow Collin today. Guess where he went for lunch?”
“To her place?”
“Yep. I even have pictures.”
I sit on the bed and take her hand in mine. “I’m sorry.”
“I knew it was happening, you know,” she sniffles. “But seeing the proof. Seeing them kiss. There are other photos too. They didn’t bother to close the blinds. You could see their passion. It just reinforces what an idiot I was to have married him. He never, ever kissed me like that. They barely made it in the house. Did it on her couch.”
“And here I am going on about seducing Dawson. I’m sorry, really.”
“It’s okay.”
“You shouldn’t be alone tonight. I can do this a different night.”
“Are you kidding? Don’t you dare. Besides, I have a baby shower to go to.” She gives me a hug. “Now, get your sexy ass over to Dawson’s.”
My driver takes me to Malibu. I’m nervous, anxious, excited, and horny.
Mostly, horny.
Dawson told me our kiss was the best of his life.
And I have to admit, today, on his desk, was the hottest sex of my life.
Bam and I had a good sex life. But it’s weird how age and perspective can change what you thought. I loved Bam. I did. But I’m starting to wonder if Keatyn might be right about the whole true love thing.
But if I think that way, it would mean Dawson could be that guy. And that’s something I’m not ready to even consider.
I’m just trying to figure out what made it so good.
It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve done it in a guy’s office before. So it’s not that. And in the two years since Bam and I broke up, I’ve been having a whole lot of revenge sex. Angry sex. One night stands.
So it’s not like I’m just in need of sex.
Today, just felt like more.
And it scares me a little.
I stand on his front porch trying to decide if I should ring the doorbell or run like hell in the other direction.
When my driver pulls away, my choice becomes easier. I can’t go running around Malibu in nothing but a fur coat.
I take a deep breath, stand up straight, and push the button.
Dawson answers wearing a black tuxedo complete with bow tie.
“You look nice,” I say. Nice being a severe understatement.
“Come in,” he says, leading me into a comfortable, shabby chic decorated home. “There was champagne in the fridge,” he points to a bottle on the kitchen island. “Would you like some?”
“Of course.”
He heads toward the champagne then turns back around. “I’m sorry. Where are my manners? May I take your coat?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” I slip out of my coat and lay it over his outstretched arm. But he doesn’t seem to notice the fur.
His eyes are glued to what I’m wearing.
Or, not wearing, as the case would be.
“Wow. This is straight out of one of my fantasies.” He gives me a naughty smirk, tosses my coat over a chair, and trails the back of his hand across my shoulder. “I should have come
to L.A. sooner. Will all the women be dressed like this for the benefit?”
“Probably not,” I say as his lips follow his hand, leaving kisses in their wake. Goosebumps form on my skin from the cool ocean breeze blowing through the deck door, but on the inside I feel hot, like I’m burning up from within.
He touches the lace on my bra, the lace on my thong, and the tops of my garters.
“I have a new fantasy,” he says, grabbing my coat and putting it back on me.
“What’s that?” I whisper.
“Would you mind going back outside and ringing the doorbell again?”
“Uh, um, sure,” I say, wondering why he wants me to, but if he has a fantasy about me, I’m all for exploring it.
A few seconds later, he shuts the door in my face.
My insides are throbbing, my panties are wet, and he’s yet to kiss me on the lips.
I hit the doorbell.
He answers, looking like I caught him in the middle of getting dressed. His pants are on, but his jacket, tie, and shoes are gone. His shirt is on, but not buttoned.
And, my god, is it a sight.
His chest is so well formed. His muscles taut and hard.
His abs so perfectly sculpted they almost don’t look real.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says, exposing my shoulder and giving it a kiss. “Well, well. What do we have here?” He slides his hand inside my coat, running it from my neck to my thong. He hooks a finger around the lace, quickly stripping it off me. Then his tongue retraces his hand’s path. He grabs my ass as he slides his tongue down the side of my neck, across my collar bone, and down through my cleavage. I push my fingers through his thick hair, not sure what’s going to happen next, but eagerly anticipating it.
His tongue grazes across the swell of my breast then he lowers himself to his knees and kisses my stomach.
Although his kisses are hard and hungry, there’s something different about the way he kisses my stomach. It’s sweet, almost loving.
His tongue works its way lower, until it’s nearly between my legs.
