Taking Care of Business

by Lauren Dane

  What the hell was he doing? Twenty minutes of Crissy on his cock wouldn't be worth the hassle of dealing with her after that. Twenty? Hell. He'd be lucky if he could make it to five. And it wouldn't be fair to screw her knowing he'd be thinking of another woman the entire time.

  'I have to go,' he told her.

  'No . . . stay . . .' She kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck. Her hand wiggled inside his shirt and found bare skin, but Brandon was already clutching her wrist to keep her from exploring more.

  He didn't want to screw Crissy. The woman he wanted had told him to go home and think about her and, no matter what else he did tonight, that's what he'd be doing. Crissy tried to kiss him again but stopped when he didn't respond.

  She rocked her ass on his erection. 'What's wrong?'

  'Nothing. But I really do have to work in the morning. I'm sorry.'

  She leaned in to speak in his ear again. 'What I'm sitting on says otherwise.'

  What she was sitting on wouldn't mind, but he did. 'Thanks for the beer.'

  She got off his lap when he pushed her gently and stood. Her pretty face grew lines when she frowned, a fact Brandon doubted she'd appreciate. She put her hands on her hips.

  'Are you queer?'

  'No.'

  'Huh.' She eyed his crotch. 'I just had to ask.'

  'No, I'm not queer.' He smiled at her, though she didn't smile back. 'I'm just -'

  'Bad break-up, yeah, yeah.' She waved her hand in dismissal. 'We know all about it.'

  'What do you know about it?'

  'Oh, Kris works with Jeremy Bench, who used to go out with Deb Houser, whose brother is room-mates with Ben Miller.'

  'Who's dating my ex-girlfriend.'

  'Right.' She gave him a drunken smile. 'Poor baby, she rocked your world, huh?'

  Leah had called him baby, too, but from her it had sounded like sweet, dripping sin and on Crissy's lips it only made him scowl. 'I gotta go.'

  'Bye.' Her mission failed, Crissy was already looking for her next target.

  Brandon let himself out. By the time he got up the stairs to his apartment, the ache in his groin was enough to make him walk with a limp. There was only one solution for it. Again he wanted to curse Leah, call her a bitch, but he couldn't pretend that, for someone who didn't know him at all, she'd managed to get right inside him.

  By the time the pipes stopped whining and the water was hot enough in the shower to fill the air with steam, he'd stripped out of his work clothes. He didn't even try to stop the sigh of relief when he shucked out of his briefs and finally freed his erection.

  He stepped into the shower with a hand already on his prick. Stroking. Groaning.

  He stopped. She'd said she wanted to know all the details and he didn't intend to disappoint.

  He was close already, but too close. Stroking himself hurt almost more than it felt good. He needed to go slow. He wondered if Leah had known that.

  He wondered if she were thinking of him now too.

  Brandon bent his head into the water and let it pound down on his neck and shoulders. They ached too. His entire body did, actually, with the tension of hours.

  His shower was small, but the building had a communal water heater, so there was always plenty of hot water. Still bent beneath the spray, he put a hand on the wall at shoulder height for support. He leaned, taking the pressure off his knees one at a time.

  Steaming water sluiced over his shoulders and down his back. He breathed in, slowly, and let the breath out. Water slid over his chest, down over his cock, tickling.

  When at last some of the ache had eased from a few of his muscles, Brandon put his hand on his cock again. He stroked easily but slowly. His eyes closed.

  There was no way to count the thousands of times he'd done this, jerked himself to coming, but he'd never done it on command before. Now, thinking about her thinking of him doing it, thinking of how he'd tell her tomorrow how it had felt, what he'd done, the sensations building in his shaft and balls seemed extra heightened.

  Her cunt had spasmed on his tongue. He'd been able to feel her coming around his fingers as her clit leaped and jumped under his lips. He'd done that to her, made her feel that way. He'd made her come.

  He groaned out loud, Leah's face in his mind. The water was washing her taste from him. He opened his mouth to let the hot water swirl around his teeth. He spit, a fierce jet that splattered the wall.

  His hand was a poor substitute for the heat and wetness of her body. He wanted to feel her around him. He wanted her mouth under his. Damn . . . He groaned again . . . He wanted her nails raking his back as he drove into her again and again and she screamed his name.

  His hand stroked harder. His hips pumped forwards. His fingers clutched and slid on the shower's plastic interior, finding no purchase.

  He wanted her hands in his hair, pulling hard when he found her secret places with his mouth and fingers.

  He said her name and let the water fill his mouth again.

  His balls tightened, so heavy already. He pushed harder into his fist. Faster. His knees bent a little, hurting. The water was so hot it had begun making him feel a little faint. Or maybe it was his impending orgasm, which felt like a freight train barrelling up from his groin to his head.

  She had blue eyes. Dark hair. She smelled of roses. She tasted sweet. She turned him inside out and upside down.

  He shouted when he came, a garbled string of words that might have been mistaken for a prayer. Or a plea. His cock throbbed as he spurted. Hot come splattered the shower wall, each burst wringing another low cry from him until at last, spent, Brandon hung his head and let the water roll over him.

  'Leah.' He mouthed it, then laughed.

  What the hell exactly was he going to say tomorrow?

  15

  Oh fuck. Why did she agree to talk to him at all? Why did she give in and act as if what was happening between her and Dix was anything but an affair?

  Ruthlessly, Kate twisted her hair back and chose a darker lipstick. She had to play ball-buster in the meetings and she needed to look the part. So what if she wore her sexiest panties and bra? No one knew but her and it wasn't because she wanted to appeal to Dix.

  But first she was having breakfast with Leah. Leah who'd see through any bullshit.

  'Why am I doing this?' she asked the mirror. The woman had the audacity to shrug back at her. She cocked her head. She did have that glow. The look of a woman who'd had a man shove his cock deep into her wet, hot cunt and ride her like a pony. Twice in one day. She wanted to laugh out loud but instead the woman in the mirror raised a brow and smirked.

  Great, now she was going crazy and talking to herself. She didn't use to talk to herself before Dix. Damned man, all delicious and smart and, gah, irresistible.

  Shaking her head, she dabbed on a bit of perfume, checked herself out in the mirror and headed towards the door.

  But then her cell phone rang and a quick peek at the display showed it was her mother. Sighing, she steeled herself and answered.

  'Where are you? Your dad and I stopped by your new place yesterday and you didn't answer when we tried to buzz up. One of your neighbours let us in, Katherine. You know how dangerous that is? We could have been axe murderers or stalkers.' Her mother took a deep breath and Kate readied herself for another volley of mother guilt. 'Your father and I drove all the way out to your new place from Bala Cynwyd! You know how your father has to stop a lot and go to the bathroom and you weren't even there.'

  Kate shuddered. Not axe murderers, but her mother was an emotional vampire. A tiny bully of a woman obsessed with appearances and tags on the inside of clothing. A woman who'd been on a diet since 1965 and who, Kate was convinced, had never had an orgasm. Shirley Edwards was entirely devoid of carnality on any level. She enjoyed nothing but tearing other people down to make herself feel better.

  Her father loved to tell everyone how good he was. How kind. How very moral and upstanding while he checked out and left Kate and her siblings to
the mercies of his wife. The kind of man who never came out and said anything specifically bigoted but it poured off him in the way he looked at other people, in his catchphrases and innuendos.

  Kate had been glad to go to college and then after the fiasco, where she'd learned exactly how different men and women were expected to act in the workplace, she'd headed for the west coast. That had been the major plus to living in Seattle. But, as her sister Diandra told her, she was a big girl.

  She was back and Kate refused to allow them to ruin it with their presence. Moving back to Pennsylvania was a good thing, damn it. She busted the asses of people in court all the time so why did she cry like a girl instead of kneecapping her parents like they needed?

  Di and her girlfriend lived in Boston. Once at Christmas dinner, Di told their mother why she'd gotten her tongue pierced. Best. Holiday. Dinner. Ever.

  Kate realised her mother had been talking and decided to interrupt. 'I said in my email that I'd be away at a conference for a few days. I'm in Harrisburg. I'm on my way to a meeting just now so I have to go. I'll speak to you when I get back home.'

  'What are you doing in Harrisburg? Your neighbourhood is nice enough except for the junkie who let us in. Did I tell you about that? Well, your father says he hopes you got a raise coming out here. You know they can afford it. When are you due back? Why don't you live in a suburb instead of in town? You can afford a nice house for what you paid for that place.'

  Kate hung her head. Her bones wanted to turn to rubber as the life was sapped from her. 'A conference, as I said. Lawyers go to those a lot. Glad you like my neighbourhood.' She wouldn't ask how they inferred that the person who let the upscale-looking older couple into the building was a junkie instead of a helpful citizen, and she really wasn't going to touch the salary comment. She had to go to breakfast and she couldn't eat if her head blew off. 'Anyway, I need to go. I'll speak to you later.' She snapped the phone shut with a satisfying flick of her wrist and made a mental note to call Di later on.

  Hanging up on her mother made her feel much better, even if it was petty. Kate left the room with a smile on her face and her hunger renewed.

  Leah was already seated in the restaurant when Kate arrived. She shot an amused look at her friend, who totally had something to tell her.

  Kate turned to the server who'd appeared at the table. 'I think I need the spinach and feta omelette with some nine-grain toast, coffee and a tomato juice, please.'

  Leah ordered plain oatmeal and dry toast and then studied her fork. Very carefully.

  'How about the weather, huh? Whooo, hot today, I heard on the news. My new place has a great view, by the way. The building has a pool. You need to come up to visit and we can gape at boys way too young for us and make up stories about them. You can order them around and they'll stutter. It'll be a hoot.'

  'Bitch.'

  Kate snorted and sipped her coffee. 'Tell me something I don't know. Like, say, why you are so fascinated in the silverware and have a blush creeping up your neck. Spare me anything but the naked, sweaty details because I won't believe them.'

  'You tell me something first,' Leah challenged.

  'What, are we in third grade? OK, I just hung up on my mother. How's that?'

  Leah jerked her head back, surprised. 'You hung up on Shirley? Wow. Did she ask if you were a lesbian again and start wailing about Diandra and how she'd perverted you to her ways?'

  'No. I only heard veiled comments about the Jews and some junkie who let them into my building. I need to hang up on her more often. It was better than a nice run.'

  'What isn't better than running? Freak.' Leah poked at her oatmeal and Kate wrinkled her nose.

  'While you're working on your cholesterol over there, why don't you spit out the fucking details already. I'm going grey.'

  'Oh God, oh God, oh God.' Leah buried her face in her hands so she wouldn't have to look at Kate.

  'That good, huh?' Kate didn't sound very sympathetic.

  In fact, Leah thought as she braved a glance at her friend, Kate shone with what they'd always fondly called the 'freshly fucked glow'.

  'Nice F.F.G., Kate.'

  'I could say the same for you.'

  'I didn't fuck him. ' Leah's throat closed on the words and she looked around the hotel restaurant to make sure they couldn't possibly be overheard.

  'Why not?'

  'I . . . didn't want to.'

  'What a lame excuse.' Kate stabbed her fork into her omelette and ate a few bites.

  'I just didn't want to,' Leah repeated.

  'So what did happen? Because I know something did.'

  Leah told her everything, how he'd shown up at her door, how she'd told him to go down on her. How he had done it. What she'd told him to do when he got home.

  'Do you think he did?'

  'I don't know. Oh God, what the hell was I thinking?' Leah wished she'd ordered pancakes so she could drown herself in syrup. 'I have to work with this guy, Kate!'

  'I know what you mean. I really do.' Kate sipped her coffee. 'But not forever, at least. And he's not your co-worker.'

  'This is just absolutely not the right time for me to be getting involved with someone new,' Leah said.

  'Relax. It's not like you have to marry him.' Kate slathered jelly on her toast and bit into it. 'And besides, it sounds like he got off on it. I mean, really got off on it.'

  'Yeah, well.' Leah made a sour face. 'I got off on Mike tossing dollar bills on the floor and making me crawl around and pick them up too. The first time.'

  'Mike saw Nine and a Half Weeks too many times, it sounds like.'

  Leah laughed. 'Yeah. Well, I guess I did too. But it's not what I want.'

  'Is that what you're afraid of, sweetie?' Kate put down her toast and gave Leah a sympathetic look.

  'I won't be like Mike.' The fierceness of her reply startled Leah.

  Kate frowned. 'You're not like Mike.'

  'But it's like . . . when I told him to get on his knees for me and he did it . . . I felt . . . It felt like . . .'

  Kate waited, just listening, not trying to fill the space Leah couldn't fill with the words she couldn't say.

  'I felt powerful. But it was more than that.'

  Kate smiled. 'There's nothing wrong with that.'

  'I'm powerful all day long,' Leah pointed out. 'I don't need to be some uber-bitch in the bedroom, too.'

  'Were you being a bitch?'

  'I'm sure he thought so.'

  'Do you really think he thought that? Did he seem angry?'

  'No.' Leah sighed and studied her bowl of unappetising oatmeal. 'But how do I know? I made him go down on me, then I told him to leave. I didn't even give him a hand job.'

  'Some guys, believe it or not, get off on that. You told him to go home and jerk off thinking of you, Leah. I bet he did it. And later he's going to tell you all about it. And you're going to love it.'

  Leah groaned. They were right back where they'd started. 'Oh God!'

  Kate laughed. 'This is good.'

  Leah fixed her friend with a mock-glare. 'It's so not good. Dammit, I need pancakes.'

  She waved at the server to take the order, then shoved the oatmeal aside. Then she fixed Kate with a steady look. 'And what about you? What's going on with you?'

  Kate couldn't say she was shocked at what her friend had told her. Not really. Band Boy got his thing on and Leah finally grabbed hold of what flipped her switch.

  Why shouldn't a woman be able to like what she liked without apologising for it? So Leah liked to top Band Boy and make him lick her pussy. Contrary to what Leah thought, or felt she should think, it didn't make a woman a bitch because she liked to take the damned reins in bed. It wasn't Kate's cup of tea but it was clearly Leah's and more power to her. If she'd just accept it and stop fighting it.

  Ha! Look who was muttering to herself mentally like a loon. Leah had cornered her about Dix twice already and, from the look in her eye, Kate wasn't going to be able to dodge again.

&nbs
p; 'What do you want this thing with Dix to be? I mean, if you had your choice.' Leah ate the pancakes she'd exchanged for the oatmeal.

  Kate took a deep breath. 'I like him. He's different. He's got the bad-boy thing working but he has a job. He has a life and he's not a loser. I can talk to him. He listens to me, makes me laugh. The sex is phenomenal. If he didn't have an ex-wife who was the biggest, fucking helpless twat ever, if he didn't have kids, if things were different I'd want to be with him. Or at least to explore that direction. But he does have an ex-wife who can't change her own light bulbs and he doesn't seem troubled by that. And I just don't want to talk about it or think about it right now. I can't.'