by Lily Hayden
“Where’s everyone?”
“At a release party.” Marley shrugged. “You should have seen Maia’s outfit. She looked like Cardi B and Elvis had had a love child.”
Taylor laughed. Marley was such a little bitch, but she was hilarious.
“Are they coming home?”
These release parties were notoriously wild. It was like a competition between the rich to see who could throw away the most money. It wasn’t uncommon for them to all end up jetting off to Vegas or Cali.
“Dunno.” Marley turned back to watch a snake strangle its prey.
Taylor kicked off her shoes and took a seat next to her. Her eyes grew heavy as she watched the documentary travel to far corners of the globe and the next thing she knew, she was waking up to the sound of loud voices.
“Taylor!”
Her sisters, dressed in garish-but-ridiculously expensive dresses, stumbled into the room on impossibly-high heels. They were accompanied by a small group of their usual friends. Taylor rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, blinking, as she struggled to sit up. She scanned her eyes around the group and her heart stopped in her chest as her eyes took in the drop-dead gorgeous face of Deon Francis.
“Hey, Tay.” His lips pulled back slowly into a dazzling smile and she felt the familiar pull on her heart that only he could do to her.
She found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his and she slowly got to her feet, holding his stare.
“Deon.” She moved towards him, suddenly feeling self-conscious in her casual jeans and sweater.
He looked flawless in dark jeans and a white polo-neck underneath a monochrome jacket that in theory should have looked ridiculous, but on him looked like he’d been styled by a fashion magazine. He had been featured in fashion magazines, Taylor remembered, before his career at the record label had become “his priority”. That had been the final straw for their relationship. His priority was how often he was ‘trending’ online whereas hers had been what she could do for the planet. He couldn’t believe she had declined a job at a huge fashion house in favour for a boring degree. He’d promised to stay faithful to her, but she’d seen the paparazzi shots of him falling out of clubs and lounging on yachts with girls who were just like her sisters. He’d broken her heart and, deep down, she knew he was the reason that she wouldn’t commit.
“You’re looking good.” His eyes travelled up and down her body, and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks.
She heard her sister mutter something under her breath and the rest of the group withdrew from the room, taking the party into the open-plan kitchen. Taylor felt her heart start to race. They were alone for the first time in years. She opened her mouth, ready to automatically thank him for the compliment but then indignation sparked deep within her. He wasn’t going to make her feel like this. She wasn’t being reduced to a simpering, love-struck fool for any man. She’d seen Ella and Shauna, both beautiful, intelligent women lose their heads over too many idiots. Deon had made his choice.
She drew herself up to her full five-foot-five and stretched her full mouth into a frosty smile.
“It’s great to see you again.” She replied curtly. “I’m heading out to see a friend. Maybe catch up some other time.”
She snatched up her purse and, without a backward glance, she stomped out onto the street. It was gone midnight, but that was ok, she reasoned with herself as she sucked in the cool, crisp air. New York was the city that didn’t sleep. Anything was better than being in there with him. Her heart was still racing from the shock of seeing him and she walked a little way down the street, casting her eyes into the passing traffic for a cab.
“Taylor!”
She heard footsteps behind her and her stomach lurched. She didn’t need this right now. She was already nervous about her summer placement. She knew she shouldn’t have come home to visit. On the few occasions she had spoke to her family, they had all been dead set against her spending the summer in a Floridian swamp. They were even more horrified when she’d admitted the meagre pay she’d receive, not even enough to cover the basic cost of living. They didn’t understand that all this work experience was vital; for her career and for her to build her skills and knowledge. She wanted to make a difference: they just wanted to make money.
“I’m kind of in a rush.” She turned towards him and gave him her coolest stare.
Deon was immune to her stand-offish attitude and he took her hands in his, tilting his head to the side.
You know how this is going to go down. She told herself sternly. He’s going to give you those puppy-dog eyes. You do not let him sweet talk you.
“Baby,” He pulled her hands towards him, holding them to his chest. “I’ve missed you.”
She rolled her eyes, but she could feel her stomach turn a slow somersault.
“De,” She reverted to her pet-name for him and immediately regretted it. “Seriously, I’ve got to go.”
She pulled away from him, but he was strong, and in one swift movement, he had her tight against his chest. Her head was against his broad chest and his arms were around her. She could hear the rhythmic thud of his heart through his shirt and she felt her resolve and her knees weaken.
“Deon.” She forced herself to pull away, but she was unable to resist looking up at him, into his hypnotic eyes. “I can’t do this. Not with you.”
She felt his arms loosen from around her and she ignored the twinge of disappointment, but then his hand was cupping her face and she was spellbound. She felt his fingers brush against the soft skin of her cheek.
“I just want to talk to you.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, and she knew that she was going to go with him.
Without waiting for a response, he slipped one arm around her slender waist, pulling her close to him. She could smell the woody undertones of the cologne he used, and it opened a box of memories that she had thought she had nailed shut years ago. It all came flooding back to her as she breathed in his scent; images of him naked and covered in sweat, raw and masculine.
Don’t do it. The voice in her head told her, but her senses overpowered her sensibility.
She let him lead her back into the building of her family home. She leaned against him; weak and powerless like a gazelle trapped in the sight of a powerful lion. He knew her family home as well as his own. He fitted into the family better than she did. She let him take her hand and lead her up the marble stairs. Her legs felt weak and her heart was pounding in her chest. She let him open the heavy door to her childhood bedroom.
Taylor, what are you doing?
But she followed him blindly into the room. He pushed the door shut, not bothering to turn on the light and she moved to him in the darkness. She found his lips and tasted the memory of their passion on them.
He was every bit as amazing as she remembered. He was always gentle, kissing and touching her as he removed her old sweatshirt. He moved her, turning her in a slow circle. Even in the dark, she could feel his eyes appraising her and she trembled with desire. Once he had devoured her with his eyes, he brought her close again, kissing her slowly as if they had forever. There was no fumbling to remove her bra. She gasped as his fingers effortlessly undressed her, brushing lightly over her nipples, making her sigh with pleasure. He took his time, kissing her as she stood topless before him. He ran his fingers and then his lips over her, letting her anticipation build until she was the one unable to hold back. He transformed her with his touch from frozen prey to frantic predator. She scratched at his back and chest, bit down on his lips and his neck. She pulled at his designer clothes, not caring if she tore them in her haste to feel his bare skin beneath hers. She pushed him, and she pulled him, grinding her body against him, desperate for him to be inside her. Her response was what he craved, and he could hold back no more. He lifted her roughly, pushing his fingers into her, making her gasp with pleasure. He withdrew, just as quickly as he had entered her, and she heard her own voice pleading with him to fuck her. He entered her
expertly, knowing every inch of her body, and she moaned as the fleeting pain of his entry melted into pleasure. He pushed her up against the wall of her bedroom and took her roughly with short, deep thrusts. She dragged her nails into his back as she cried out in ecstasy.
“You like that, huh?” His voice was ragged, and his breathing was heavy.
“Mmmmmm.” She heard herself moan. “Harder, baby.”
“Harder?” He pulled away from her, slowly, knowing it would drive her wild.
He turned with her still in his arms and carried her to the bed. He dropped her gently and she lay on her back, naked and delirious with longing, staring up at the outline of his hard muscles above her.
“You want it?”
She knew he wanted to beg, and she felt her desire soar.
“Please?” She heard her voice, breathless and barely a whisper.
“Turn over.” His voice was deep and authoritative. “Let me look at you.”
Strong, independent Taylor rolled onto her stomach and rose slowly onto her forearms and knees. She felt his eyes take their time exploring her curves and she held her breath, desperate for the orgasm she knew was coming.
“Taylor.” She loved the way he said her name. “What do you want?”
“I want you.” She answered, wriggling her ass temptingly at him.
She felt his palm, firm and hard, against her buttocks and she gasped with pleasure as he entered her with his fingers. She writhed against his hand and then his mouth, until she was begging him to enter her. He knelt behind her, gripping her high, firm ass and ploughing his hardness into her until she screamed out in ecstasy, feeling the waves of her orgasm setting her free. She felt his own orgasm meet hers and she collapsed, sweating and spent underneath his body.
Tiredness washed over her and when he pulled her to his chest, she was powerless to pull away or ask him to leave. She felt safe and satisfied wrapped in his strong arms.
Mixed Signals
Shauna approached the impressive glass-front building, feeling the nerves fluttering in her stomach. The morning sun was low in the Louisiana sky and she squinted, through the rays, at the tinted ground-floor windows as she moved uncertainly towards the doors. A tall, curvy woman looked back at her; she had tamed her wild, red hair into a low bun at the base of her neck and was dressed simply in a grey suit trousers, a silk cream blouse and pumps. Getting ready this morning without Ella and Taylor to advise and support her had been hard. Being here, in an unfamiliar state, staying in a short-term let in a student house-share, with nobody she knew, had been hard. Her room was one of four in a large, two-storey weatherboard building. Two of the students had sublet their rooms for the summer to fund their travels and two were home, but they had barely spoken to Shauna. She had been here for four days now and, aside from the chatty old guy in the grocery store, she hadn’t spoken to another person the whole time.
Shauna had always been a little shy but, alone with her thoughts and no distractions, she was starting to feel overwhelmed and out of her depth. She took a deep breath and pushed the doors open, entering the light, airy reception of MLB Designs. A young man was sat behind the desk, talking into a headset, and she stood awkwardly, waiting for him to finish his conversation.
“Can I help you?” He finally asked after what seemed an eternity.
“I’m Shauna Williams.” Her voice came out a squeak after days without speaking aloud. “I’m the new intern.”
He frowned and looked down at his notes.
“What did you say your name was?”
“Shauna Williams.” She repeated, her heart tightening as her anxiety kicked in.
She had completed an online assessment and passed a telephone interview. She’d received a follow-up call to say she’d been successful, and another call confirming all the details, but now she was panicking. Oh, God, what if it had been a mistake and they had meant to hire someone else. Architecture internships, especially paid ones, no matter how bad the pay, were hard to come by. She should have known that it was too good to be true.
“Could you take a seat for me, Shauna?” He was still frowning, much to her dismay.
The whole ground-floor was dedicated to the reception, which meant aside from the front-desk, it was just a huge empty room. There was an arrangement of two straight-backed chairs and a low sofa in the opposite corner, and she moved over obediently, perching on a chair facing the bank of elevators.
She watched as the frowning receptionist spoke into his headset, but she was too far away to hear what he was saying. Her stomach was turning with nerves and she could feel herself growing hot, beads of perspiration prickling at the back of her neck.
If this was a book or a film, she thought, Armand would swoop in now and rescue me. He’d tell me there had been a mix-up and he’d take me up to his office.
She felt a smile playing at the corner of her lips. She had been horribly nervous about bumping into him, but now she would do anything to see a friendly face. The large digital clock above the elevators counted down her wait. Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes. The smile died away, and she felt herself growing increasingly uncomfortable, throwing glances over at the receptionist, who had gone back to frowning into his PC. He hadn’t looked over at her once, she realised.
Should I go and remind him I’m here, or is that pushy? She worried. She’d give it another five minutes and then ask.
Fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes.
Right, she thought decisively. When it gets to thirty minutes, I’ll definitely ask.
She stared at the bank of elevators. She’d seen several people coming and going, but as yet nobody had even glanced in her direction. She got to her feet and moved slowly back to the front-desk.
“Excuse me?” She cleared her throat timidly until the man looked up at her.
His frown deepened, and she wondered whether this was just his default expression.
“Has nobody come down yet?” He looked perplexed. “Someone will be down shortly.”
She went back to her seat to resume her clock-watching.
Thirty minutes. Forty minutes.
At what point did she give up and go home? She wondered.
She watched as a man in jeans and a t-shirt appeared from the elevator. He glanced over at her, before walking over to the receptionist. She could see them both turning to look at her as they spoke animatedly. The man was gesturing with his hands and shaking his head, and the receptionist was holding up a piece of paper, shrugging exaggeratedly.
Fuck. Shauna could see from their body language that this didn’t look good. Someone had made a mistake. They hadn’t been expecting her. Oh, God. She would have to go home. She’d spent all her money on the room and it was one-hundred-percent non-refundable. Worse though, she’d have no experience and all the summer jobs would be gone. She wasn’t even sure that she had enough credit left on her card to get a flight back home.
Tears started to form at the back of her eyes and she blinked them away. She wasn’t going to cry, she told herself feeling anger start to replace the upset. The man turned towards her and, for a second, she felt a glimmer of excitement as she thought she recognised the tall, dark stranger, but as he got closer, she saw that it was not Armand, although he did bear a striking resemblance.
“Hi.” The man smiled at her, but his face was stony and cold. “Kevin has explained there seems to have been a mix-up. We’ve actually filled the internship.”
She’d suspected as much from the delay, but it did not lessen the blow and his words echoed in her head as the disappointment, the anger and the upset knocked her from her feet.
“Apologies for any inconvenience.” The man looked a little sheepish and he turned away from her.
She could see the relief in his posture, now that it was done, and he walked back to the elevator.
Furious anger and indignation rose up inside her and she found herself on her feet, marching towards him before she could stop herself.
“How can this
be a mistake?” She called loudly, causing the man to turn in surprise to face her.
She stopped in her tracks, body squared and tense, and looked him in the eye.
“I have emails from your company.” Her green eyes blazed with anger. “I have come from Chicago. I’ve paid for a room for twelve weeks. I’ve booked flights. I’ve turned down other job offers. And you’re telling me it’s a mix-up and you want me to leave?”
The man’s face reddened, and she was glad she was making him feel uncomfortable.
“Look, honey,” He started, holding his hands out helplessly. “It’s out of my control. I can assure you heads are going to roll for this, but I can’t change anything.”
“Can I speak to the manager? Or HR?” Shauna was clutching at straws now, desperate to stay.
“Hey!”
A voice interrupted them, and Shauna felt the angry flush of her cheeks deepen as the man from the plane walked across the lobby to them.
“Are you looking for me?” Armand ignored the other man and directed this to Shauna, his expression somewhere between puzzled and concerned.
“There’s been a mix-up.” The man glanced at Armand. “Sylvie’s messed the interns up.”
“You’re an intern?” Any worry on Armand’s face softened away into a friendly grin.
“I was meant to be.” Shauna told him. She fumbled with her phone, opening the email and passed it to him. “Here.”
Armand took her phone and read it. He handed it back to her and looked at his colleague.
“She’s come from Chicago.” He said firmly as if the matter was resolved. “You can’t send her away. Someone needs to do something about Sylvie. She’s killing us with her mistakes.”
“We haven’t got anything for her to do.” The man shook his head at Armand. “This isn’t a creche.”
“I’ll have her.” Armand shrugged. “I could do with an intern. Come with me, Shauna.”
Shauna looked helplessly between the two men, but Armand had started walking towards the elevator and she hurried to catch up with him. The elevator sprang open and she followed him inside. He pressed the button and she stood silently, waiting for him to say something. He was dressed in a similar casual style as he had been on the plane; jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. He stared at the row of numbers on the wall as if lost in thought and she opened her mouth, wanting to say something but feeling tongue-tied and self-conscious. The doors opened onto an open-plan office, bustling with people and he gestured for her to follow him. His long strides made it hard to keep up with him and she barely had chance to take in the faces of the people around before he had come to a stop at a solid wood door at the end of the office. A plaque on the door was inscribed with his name and he pushed the door, holding it open with one broad, muscular arm for her to step in.
