I put my phone down once more and reached for the box.
I opened it and reached inside. A white paper stuck up from behind the interior, I didn’t see the card the first time and pulled it out. Written in perfect handwriting and hardened edges on marbled white paper:
Because it can’t be me touching your skin.
Happy birthday Jane.
He didn’t sign his name, but I wished he had. I looked at the words reading them again and again. I put the card down and took the rest of the contents out, and laid them on the couch. A red sheer lace cut-out bra and panties with a sultry floral design. I could feel the pooling between my legs. My imagination sparked with a thousand dirty thoughts, a hundred different needs and desires.
I rushed to my bedroom and stripped, then changed into my gift, imagining Leon’s hands anywhere and everywhere the soft material touched. I could see my nipples peek through the red lace of the bra, and the light tuft of hair that hid all that lay beyond the underwear.
I wanted Leon to be there in that room with me.
To see me.
To want me.
To take me - because it can’t be me on your skin - what the hell was I meant to do with that information?
I grabbed my phone and dialled.
He answered after the first ring, a breathless hello.
“I opened your gift.”
The silence stretched on for so long I wasn’t sure if he heard me. I was about to speak again when he asked, “Do you like it?”
“I do like it. A lot.”
“I’m glad.” His voice was strained.
“Is that what you tell all your employees?”
“No. I’ve never bought any of my other employees birthday presents.”
My heart fluttered at his confession. “I’m wearing it right now.” I could hear his breath hitch.
“Does it fit?”
“Like it’s my own skin.” He made a sound that could have been a groan. “Why did you give it to me?”
“Didn’t you get the card Jane?”
“I got your card, you can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what Jane?”
“This.”
“And what is this exactly? What should I not be doing?” his voice was a low growl.
“Making me feel like this.”
“Tell me how I make you feel Jane.”
“Hot and horny. I want you on my skin. You.” I whispered the last and that agonised sound escaped him again.
“What do you want me to do to you Jane?”
“You know what I want.”
“Tell me.” He sounded strained. Desperate.
“No. You tell me! Tell me what you would do if you were here right now.”
There was a long, frustrated sigh from the other side of the phone.
“I know you want me.” He didn’t answer. “Why won’t you just put us both out of our misery?”
“Jane.” It was a low growl, possessive, daring. “I will, I intend on taking you, on making you scream out my name and break in my arms. But not yet, we need each other first.”
“I can get another job.” My voice shook, the image of Leon caging me in his arms, coaxing pleasure from my body, my mouth, my everything.
“Can you?” I could almost hear the smirk on his mouth. “One that pays as well as I do? One that helps pay your rent and your debts?”
“How do you know about those?” I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks. He remained silent and I wondered what else Scott had told him. Scott.
“Is this only about work? Is there no other reason?”
He remained silent for a moment. “No.” He was lying, I could hear it in his voice.
“Well then I quit!”
“If you quit, you’ll never see me again and I won’t come after you. I’ll never touch you or taste you or take you. The only way this works is that you work for me and when time’s up I’ll fire you.”
“Control freak.” I covered my mouth as soon as I said it expecting a scolding, instead, I was sure I heard him chuckle. “What if I become the world’s shittiest employee?”
“Impossible, considering you’re already pretty crap at what you actually do.”
“Excuse me?” I could swear that I could hear him smiling on the other side of the phone.
He ignored me. “Will you wear your gift to work tomorrow?”
“Maybe.”
“Jane.” I could hear his impatience, his eagerness.
“Maybe.”
Leon growled, “Jane.”
“I have to go.”
“Where?”
“It’s my day off and I have things to see, people to do.”
“Who? Jane? What people?”
“Goodbye Leon.”
I hung up, with his voice still calling my name down the other end.
I felt great. Fuck him, he didn’t hold all the power. Let him think of me. Let him think of me with another man, with someone else’s hands all over me.
My nipples pinched against the lace thinking of his reaction.
I jumped on my bed and my eye caught the curled corner of a notebook. I reached under the bed, Grish’s curly writing on the plain and still empty notebook staring at me.
I ran my fingers along the empty crisp pages, the blue lines and endless potential.
I grabbed a pen and stared at the first blank page. It stared back, daring me to write all the thoughts swirling in my head, all the want and desire all the aching to be had, the unanswered needs. So I did.
On the night of my 26th and one day of existence I conjured Gabriel out of my imagination, he became real in a puff of smoke.
All of Leon’s smouldering looks and loaded promises, Barry’s demands and sexual domineering and Grish’s kindness and gentleness became a single human. A single being that understood and catered to the needs of my heroine.
Me.
I called her Mia. She was a short, understated beauty from a small town. She had a past, the kind that breaks the reader’s heart. She experienced heartbreak and loss and she came to the big city to find success. Of course, she failed and ended up working for the cold and callous Gabriel. When we meet him, he is aloof and hardened, perfect in every physical way. Tall, muscular, square jawed, tortured eyes.
The attraction was instantaneous but like any good book, the slow burn and intensity lasted over two hundred pages of games and almosts. Like when she became sick and he took care of her, showing a gentle sensitive side. Like the time she found out he owned a rescue shelter for dogs and spent his weekends caring for them, buying supplies and food. Like the time she caught him just staring at her with a dark tortured expression. And when they got together. Oh god, the sex burned the pages it was written on. Smoke came off my pen as I described body parts; swirling tongues on pinched nipples, soft fingers and hard cocks, wet mouths and tight pussies, slick fingers and earth-shattering orgasms.
I wrote all through the night, my hand cramping while furiously scribbling all over the page. My body aching with my written words, needing to experience the want and surrender of my characters. I wanted Gabriel in the same way that I wanted Leon, in the same ferocity in which I’d had Barry.
My hand dropped the pen and found its way into my underwear. I was so needy, so wet. And suddenly the hand wasn’t mine, it was Gabriel’s. Daring and demanding. He pushed into me with his fingers eliciting a moan I had been saving for Leon. His other hand travelled to my bra, he teased a nipple with a soft finger rubbing the floral lace, using its softness to torment. He was gentle as his fingers circled around me in slow motion, urging my hips to grind against them, increasing pace, circling, pushing, pounding. I came biting my pillow. Needing so much more.
I took a week off work and continued to write. Sammy was understanding when I asked. In the six months I had been working at The Hot Bird, I had never asked for time off.
On the third day, Leon called.
“Why haven’t you been at work?”
“I haven
’t been feeling well.”
“You don’t sound sick.”
“Why do you care?”
“The customers have been asking about you.” His voice was curt and frustrated.
“The customers?” I huffed, I was irritated with his stupid answer. “You can tell your customers, that I’ll be back in on Tuesday. Maybe.”
“Jane?”
“What?”
“Feel better.” The phone went dead.
On the fourth day, my oven stopped working. I was never a great cook or baker but I was great at heating things up. Without a microwave, most of my meals went into the oven for a quick heat. They tasted better anyway.
I found Barry’s card buried under a stack of fridge magnets and flipped the card in my hand. It’s not that I liked Barry. I didn’t, but I thought after being the first man to stick a finger up my ass he might have called, or sent flowers or maybe showed up again.
He picked up on the fourth ring out of breath. “This is Barry.”
“Hi Barry, this is Jane.”
“I’ve been wondering when you’d call me.”
I rolled my eyes at the oven “It’s not like that. My oven stopped working.”
“Oh.” Was he disappointed? I actually think he was. A thought occurred to me just then. Barry didn’t call women. Women called Barry. He was the one that was kept waiting. Suddenly my day got better.
“When can you get here?”
“Can you smell gas?”
“No.”
“I’ll be there in about an hour.”
“OK.”
He hung up. I had one hour. I grabbed my notebook and wrote. Mia and Gabriel were edging ever closer to their happily ever after. I was jealous of them. They had found each other and were perfect for one another and here I was waiting for the wrong man.
He was late. By three hours. He wore a grey singlet that showed off every curved and moulded muscle. And dirty work pants. A heavy tool belt sagged around his hips.
“Number 19.” His face split into a smile when he saw me.
“Jane.”
“Sure.” His eyes did the shameless trip up and down my body. I guessed now that he knew what I looked like naked, clothes didn’t really matter. My hair was up in a bun and I wore one of my favourite black singlets, the band name had faded and flaked off long ago, it was too long, flagging around my armpits showing off the black bra I wore beneath. The hem of my black hot-pants showed just beneath. He gave an appreciative nod and walked by me and straight to the kitchen.
I followed him in and he studied my oven. “I thought I might hear from you, Jane.”
He didn’t turn around. “Why would you have heard from me?”
He turned around and leaned against the oven. “Did you not have fun the other night?”
“I did.”
“So?”
“So why didn’t you call me?”
He didn’t answer. He stood, stoic pinning me with a heated look.
“Are you going to fix my oven?”
“I could.”
“But?”
“But it will cost you.” He still hadn’t moved, but his eyes had grown darker, hungrier, I had seen him turn to this beast before and I swallowed hard. His words were charged.
“How much?” I swallowed hard knowing that what he had in mind had nothing to do with money.
“Step closer.”
I did, my body already tuned to his voice, to his demands.
“Take off your pants.” It was an order.
I unbuttoned my pants. I unzipped slowly and allowed the pants to fall down my legs as I shimmied slightly. Barry followed the material with his eyes until it landed at the bottom of my feet.
“Now your underwear.” The muscles of his neck were taut as his fiery eyes watched my every movement.
When I was free of my underwear he continued. “Both hands on the table and bend over.”
I did as he said. I could hear footsteps behind me. He purred as he approached. I stilled, my heart pounding in my chest as he traced soft fingers along my outer thighs and reached for the long singlet. He lifted the fabric, folding it across my back, leaving me exposed. He groaned at the sight. I was already soaked.
He took a step back, I could feel his piercing eyes on me and my body reacted, screaming for his touch.
“Don’t move.”
He stepped out of the kitchen and I could hear him walking around. He returned a moment later and stood behind me.
“Ass up.”
I did as I was told.
He pushed my feet further apart with his own and ever so slowly, stroked my pussy. I bit my lip as the sensation spread electricity across my body. As he continued his leisurely strokes, I could feel my nipples pinch, aching with anticipation. I felt the cold lotion as he spread it across my ass.
“Are you ready?”
I nodded. He pulled his hand away from my clit and inserted a single finger into my ass, I could feel myself clench against him.
“Relax.” He whispered as he pulled out then pushed it in again. He pulled in and out of me, teasing stretching. “So fucking tight.” He purred then pulled out all the way. His left hand returned to my clit. The building throb needing release. Again, he left me wanting. Without warning this time, he inserted two fingers into my ass. I groaned throwing my head back.
“Yes, Jane. Relax.” He pulled them in and out rotating them slowly as he did, stretching me, flooding my senses. He buried them deep inside me. His thumb found its way back to my pussy where his gliding strokes tortured me. I was close, desperate as my hips began grinding against his hand, forcing his fingers deeper into my ass, pressing his fingers against my clit.
“God, you’re a sight, I can’t wait to take your ass.” Barry bit my shoulder as I moved, faster, quivering under his touch. So close, I could sense the edge, I could feel the build-up of ecstasy my hands clutched at the wooden table, my knees threatened to give way and then he pulled his hands away.
“So eager Jane.”
I could hear his zipper as he undid his pants the belt buckle crashing against the floor. “Ass up!”
I did as I was told. I needed him inside me, I needed release. I heard the foil of the condom as he ripped through it and watched as the wrapper fell like a feather to the floor. He stood behind me, his hands clasping my waist. His cock was at my entrance. It felt like we stood like that forever, letting me know he was there, powerful, in charge, claiming. I tried to push against him.
“Tsk tsk Jane. Always too eager.” Without another word he plunged into me, his swollen cock filling me up, as he started moving inside me, his hips rolling slowly, lingering. Each thrust deeper, deliberate, driving me insane, his fingers back at my clit, he played me like an old guitar, each string perfect, the desired tune achieved as he took from me groans and moans of pleasure, demanding my body surrender to his own. I did. My orgasm exploded all around him, pleasure tinged every nerve ending, washing over me as I clenched around him, he released my clit and began pumping, increasing his pace, slamming against me as his breaths accelerated. He stilled for a moment and I could feel his release as a groan escaped him, my pulsating pussy milking his cock. His body lay over mine while he caught his breath, my quivering legs barely standing the weight.
When he had recovered slightly, he kissed the back of my neck. “Fuck Jane.”
He pulled out and away. I pushed away from my table and fell back into the chair scouring the floor for my clothes. He zipped himself up and picked up my clothes. He separated the underwear from the pants and tucked them into his pocket. “For later.” He winked at me and I shuddered.
He tossed the pants in my direction. “What about my oven?”
“What about it?”
“Can you fix it?”
“Yes.”
God, he was so cocky, I know he was just inside me but all I wanted to do was strangle him. “Today?”
“No?”
“Why not?”
“I need to go
get a new part. I can get it and be back tomorrow. Also, I just want an excuse to see you again.”
I swallowed hard, my anger subsiding as desire surfaced in its place.
“But I paid. You got paid.”
“Half.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll be by to collect the rest of my payment tomorrow. I suggest you rest, and get that sweet, tight little ass of yours ready.”
My whole body stiffened at the promise. He saw my reaction and his face broke into a grin. “Eager little Jane.” He bit his lower lip and nodded. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”
He picked up his tool belt and walked out of my kitchen and out of my apartment leaving me wanting and irritated. Why did I let him waltz in here and do what he wanted with me? I had no will power. I was pathetic. But I was also curious. Needy, hungry.
I showered and dressed and grabbed my notebook, detailing my afternoon, giving Gabriel the words and strength, the domineering and cockiness to take Mia, to possess her, claim her. My body shivered with the echo of Barry’s touch, with the whispers of his promise.
Thursday.
It was like a dirty word on my lips. My entire body remained on edge, every nerve ending alight, every synapse in perfect clarity, each waiting, anticipating the knock on the door.
When the day finally arrived, I showered and dressed in a tight body dress that hugged my figure and stopped about three centimetres past my ass. My black G-string was soaked and every minute was agony, my throbbing pussy reminding me of Barry’s promise.
He made me wait.
He was an asshole till the end. Or maybe that was just his strategy. The longer I had to wait, the more I’d want him.
I had driven myself near crazy by the time he finally arrived. At four thirty in the afternoon, I had been cooped up indoors all day with one thing on my mind. I was a sensitive, crazed mess. Just how he wanted me to be.
He flashed a bright smile at me when I opened the door and walked right by me and into the kitchen.
Guarding Gabriel Page 7
