“Hot outside?” I asked.
“Not as hot as the past few days, but still pretty unbearable out there. I hope you’re going some place that has some air conditioning.”
Well, of course I was. “Yes, hopefully my cab driver has air conditioning this time. There’s nothing worse than getting stuck in a summer heat wave, in a taxi with no air conditioning.”
“I bet,” he said.
I walked out the door to greet Ernie, the building doorman. He was probably one of the sweetest old men that I had ever known. Ernie was dressed in a red bellman suit that looked far too unbearable to be wearing in weather like this.
“Good morning, Ms. Beckett,” he said.
“Good morning, Ernie.” Now he was one person I didn’t mind seeing every single day. He was probably the happiest person that I knew. Always had a smile on his face, that Ernie. Not quite sure what his whole secret to life was, but nothing seemed to get him down. I never once heard a complaint from him.
“Where to, Ms. Beckett?”
“Mid-town. Fifth Avenue and 49th Street.”
Ernie hailed a cab for me, like he did every day. “Here you go Miss Beckett.”
“Thank you, Ernie.”
He leaned into the car and repeated the address to the driver. He was always doing that. I guess that’s one of the many perks of living in an overpriced apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.
It was hot outside again. The sweltering heat wave that had New York City in its grips, hadn’t let up yet. After nearly a week, it was still in full swing, and you could see the dismay on peoples’ faces as they walked the city streets. The heat made people extremely agitated. That’s because it wasn’t just hot and dry, it was hot and humid – the worst kind. But for me, the heat wave didn’t bother me all that much, aside from getting me sexually aroused. But then again, most things get me sexually aroused.
I sat back in the yellow taxi, and this time around, it was air conditioned, and the driver didn’t look like a pervert. He barely even looked at me in fact. He was busy doing something on his phone, or checking on something most of the time. I’m not sure how taxi drivers do it. Sometimes they have to deal with the strangest people.
“Right here is okay.” After cruising through the light late morning traffic, we arrived at my destination: Dorning Capital. I looked up at the tall steel and blue glass structure that soared into the sky. “Wow,” I thought. I was never easily impressed, but Robert Dorning impressed me. As much as I wanted to stay away, something kept drawing me back in. I knew it was because I couldn’t have him. That was why I was so interested. He was married; unattainable. But I had him in the palm of my hand. Or, did he have me in the palm of his?
I couldn’t help but let the thoughts run wild in my mind as I road the elevator up to the 86th floor. Of course, his office was at the top of the building, I thought. No self-respecting billionaire would be in the sub-penthouse of a building. They had to be on the penthouse level. I smiled at myself.
“Good morning, Miss?” said the secretary at the reception desk. The elevators opened up onto a floor that looked nothing like an office. It was modern, with glass and steel projecting in different directions, and filled with incredibly luxurious finishes everywhere. The black onyx reception desk wrapped around in a concave, half-moon fashion, which looked stunning against the grey charcoal slate floors, and soaring slate and dark wood walls. It was like something out of Architectural Digest.
“Good morning,” I replied back. “I’m here to see Mr. Dorning.” Well, that was weird calling him that. Mr. Dorning. That had a very strange ring to it. I liked the sound of Robert Dorning much better.
Her face melted from a stern look, into one of a pleasant demeanor after she realized I was there to see the “Big boss.”
“Please have a seat. Let me call his office for you. Can I get you any tea, or coffee? Perhaps some sparkling water?”
Wow, they were fancy. “No,” I replied. “I’m okay, but thank you.”
The twenty-something year old secretary was very professionally dressed, but I could tell she was eyeing me up. I wondered if she had an idea of what was going on, or if Robert Dorning always had pretty ladies show up at his office like this? Looking around the place, I couldn’t help but feel excited. For a man to have built such an empire, in such a short period of time, was enthralling to me. I was always impressed with things like that. It impressed me when I saw true wealth, and not just guys that tried to show off. You know what they say about those types of guys right?
I picked up a copy of some money magazine after noticing Robert’s face on the front of it. Of course, he had magazines with his picture on the front in his lobby. I leafed through the pages until I got to the cover story, which talked about Robert’s life. The article was a very honest portrayal of the man who built his business into a Fortune 1000 company in less than two decades. It was an interview-style piece, where the author would ask questions, and he would answer them. It was pretty revealing about his past mistakes, failures, and losses. But it also talked about how all of those failures, allowed him to hone his direction, and create the company into what it was today.
“Mr. Dorning will see you now.” The blonde, twenty-something year old secretary, clad in a dark gray skirt and matching jacket, appeared in front of me again.
“Great,” I said.
“Please follow me.”
She led me down a corridor with soaring ceilings, supported by walls and columns of onyx and slate. The corridor wasn’t exactly like a corridor, but rather, a very wide hallway. The tall ceilings made it feel enormous, in fact. And the floor was decorated more like a modern home than an office complex. Glass enclosed rooms lined the corridor, but looking in, they were decorated like living rooms and dining rooms. One of them must have been a conference room, but it looked more like a dining room with rich mahogany chairs, and an enormous modern mahogany table with a glass top.
At the end of the corridor, was Robert Dorning’s office. There was a separate secretary close to the double door to his office. This secretary’s desk was like the first one, but with white marble in a half-moon shape. The white marble was a matte finish, and not the kind you could see your reflection off. It was topped with exquisite modern steel and glass table lamps with thin black shades that you could see through. Everything on the floor looked like it had been custom designed for the space.
“Theresa will help you from here,” said the first secretary.
The second secretary seemed a lot nicer than the first. She too offered me coffee, tea, or sparkling water, but also asked if I cared for a drink. I assumed she meant a cocktail, which I declined. “No, that’s okay, thank you very much.”
“No problem. Please have a seat. I’ll let Mr. Dorning know that you’re here.”
That was a surprise to hear. I thought Mr. Dorning already knew that I was there. It’s funny how many hoops you need to jump through to get to his office. It felt like Fort Knox.
“Thank you,” I replied back, and took a seat in another small seating area that looked like it was freshly peeled off the pages of some modern home magazine.
I waited there for what seemed like forever. I wasn’t quite sure how the conversation was going to end up, or where it was going to go from there. I do know one thing – I was still hooked. As much as I wanted to feel like I was in the driver seat, for one of the first times in my life, I didn’t feel like I had total control. I was actually not in control of a situation. I hate when that happens to me. I hate not being in control of my own emotions or actions. I don’t know if it’s the summer heat wave, but something certainly had me thinking some crazy thoughts.
I mean, where did I really think I was going with this? Did I actually think that I could steal away my best friend’s husband? Did I actually think that I could carry on like this with him, right under her nose?
I grabbed my phone again and looked at it. It was hard scrolling through the messages from Amy, Robert Dorning�
�s wife – my so-called best friend – but I looked again anyways. I hadn’t responded to her since the “day of the crime.” After sleeping with him, I found it hard to just continue on like that with her. But, if I didn’t respond, she was going to figure something out, if she hadn’t done so yet. Since I never really go too many days without responding to her, I decided to just drop a quick message, just to check in.
“Hey,” I said in the text, “sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. Things have been crazy for me. Are you okay?” That’s all I could muster up sending. I felt like it was obscure enough to be the truth, but not specific enough to be caught in any lies. But for once, I was actually starting to feel a little bit guilty. I mean, here I was, sitting outside her husband’s office, waiting to see him, after having slept with him two days before, and messaging her like nothing happened. What’s wrong with me? Sometimes I ask myself that question, and wonder which one is the real me? Do I actually care, or is that just some cover up to make myself feel better for not caring?
“Hey. God, I really need to talk to you.” The text came back pretty quickly from Amy. I certainly wasn’t expecting that. I was at odds with what to send so I needed to stall her more until I could find out what was going on with Robert.
“Okay,” I said back in the text. “Call me later tonight.” But after I sent the message, I felt a weird feeling inside – like I was doing something really wrong, and even though part of me was screaming to get up and walk out of that office right then, I didn’t. I stayed.
4
As I sat there waiting for Robert Dorning, I reveled in thought. I stewed in my own mind, and conjured up a mixed bag of emotions. I was certainly torn – my mind was telling me to do one thing, while my libido was screaming for me to do another. I’m sure you can guess which was one was doing which there.
I sat and waited for what seemed like forever. Seriously, was I visiting the President of the United States or something? I mean, Robert Dorning wasn’t royalty or anything, so the fact that he kept me waiting as long as he did really unnerved me.
“Mr. Dorning will see you now,” she said.
Finally! I smiled back the fakest smile I could muster up. “Thanks,” I said, as I allowed her to lead me into the office.
And, wow, what an office. I felt like I was perched on top of the world. So I thought the view from the Presidential Suite was nice. This took the cake.
“Hi,” he said, as I walked through the door. “Can you close the door behind you?”
The office was enormous. It took up an entire corner of the building. “This is bigger than my apartment,” I said. And it was. You could see for miles out.
“Glad you like it,” he smiled. “Care for a drink?”
“No,” I said, “Your second secretary offered me one.” I said it with a bit of disdain. I mean, who in the world needs two secretaries?
He smiled.
“No, seriously, why do you need two secretaries?” I asked.
“I have five, actually.”
“You have five secretaries? I mean, really?” I was half pulling his tail, and half being serious.
“Yes, five. It takes a lot to run my life.” He crossed his legs as he took a long sip from what looked like scotch in his glass.
I laughed an insincere laugh.
“So,” he said.
“So,” I said. Well this was awkward.
“I guess I wanted to talk to you.”
“Yes, “ I replied, “you did ask me here. What’s on your mind?” I knew what was on his mind, of course. I was just being coy cause that’s the kind of mood I was in. Maybe I was feeling a bit annoyed that I was “that girl,” again. I’m not sure why I involved myself in these weird twisted love triangles.
“Well, it’s Amy. I’m thinking of leaving her.”
“What!” I said. “You’re thinking of doing what?” That was not what I was expecting.
“Look, we haven’t been getting along at all lately, and now this happened,” referring to us of course, “so I’m not quite sure what to do now.”
This certainly threw a monkey wrench into where I thought this was going to head today. He wants to leave her? Is he serious? I won’t let myself be dragged into some messy divorce that’s going to be splattered all over the papers and financial magazines. “Why now?” I asked.
“Why not? We’ve been unhappy for so long, and she’s probably seeing other people behind my back. I’m tired of going along with this charade. It’s really starting to wear on me.”
“Well, I won’t be a part of this. I hope you know that.”
“I’m not asking you to be part of the divorce. I’m not going to even tell her that anything is going on between the two of us.”
Phew! That’s a relief. “Okay,” I said in response. That was a good sign at least.
“I just wanted to talk to you and see if you could help me get some dirt on her. My attorneys say that I’ll need something in the way of evidence to support claims that she’s been unfaithful to me.”
“Wait. Don’t you guys have a pre-nup or something?”
“Yes, of course we do. But, the five year clause has been fulfilled, and if I can find some dirt on her, then she’ll get a lot less than she would if I can’t.”
Well this is brazen of him. Not only does he sleep with his wife’s best friend – as in me – but he also wants that same friend to get dirt on who his wife is sleeping with. “Wow, I’m not sure I can do that for you.”
“Look, I really need your help with this. I promise you that I can make it worth your while.”
“No amount of money is going to make me want to do that. I live a very comfortable life. Sure, I may not be a billionaire like yourself, but I certainly am not scrounging for dollars.”
“I know that already. That wasn’t what I was implying.”
“Good,” I said, “Can’t you hire a private investigator for things like this? Why do you need my help?”
“I already tried a P.I., and that didn’t help. She’s either too smart, or she’s squeaky clean, and I really doubt that she’s squeaky clean. I can sense that something’s been going on. Hasn’t she confided in you?”
“No, she hasn’t confided in me. She only likes to talk about how perfect her life is. She’s never one to point out any flaws or failures. She’s very wary of telling anyone that anything is wrong.”
“Have you even bothered ever asking her about us?” he asked.
“Well. Not really,” I replied.
“I think that you have the wrong impression of my wife. It almost sounds like you and I are referring to two different people.”
After he said that, he moved from the sleek black couch he was sitting on, to where I was sitting on a matching couch that sat perpendicular and adjacent to his. I felt him near me again. I felt the heat from his skin.
Robert Dorning.
God he was sitting right there next to me. “Umm,” I said. I was at a loss for words. His sudden movement to the position next to me got my mind reeling. What was I thinking? What was I doing? Did I have the nerve to really go behind my friend’s back again? Did I really have the nerve to go through with this?
“I can see that you’re hesitant about this, and I can understand, considering that the two of you have known each other for such a long time, but I really need your help with this.”
“I really don’t think I can go through with this. I mean, you and I, that’s one thing, but purposefully going in to spy and gather information, well, that’s a whole other thing.” I was trying my best to justify things. That’s just what I do; that’s what we all do.
“What can I do to change your mind?” he smirked.
“Well…” I knew a few things that he could do right there. “I still don’t know.”
“Let me see if I can change your mind about that,” he said.
He leaned in for a passionate kiss and our tongues locked. My heart was beating a mile-a-minute; I could hear it pulsating in my ears as his t
ongue explored the inside of my mouth and the curves of my tongue. I felt him near me again. I was getting addicted. He looked stunning sitting there as he grabbed the back of my neck and drew me even closer, sending his tongue even further down my throat. I had to catch my breath.
“Wait,” I said. “We’re in your office. Won’t they…”
“They won’t come in, and they won’t hear. The office is sound proof, and they never enter without my express permission,” he said.
It sounded to me like he had done this before. I gave him that look before he grabbed the back of my neck and brought me in again for another kiss. I could feel my legs quivering there on that couch. I was imagining him entering me in that office. It was so wrong, but it felt so right. I couldn’t help myself.
He ran his hand down between my legs and began caressing the flesh softly at first, as he worked his tongue into my mouth. He knew exactly what he was doing. He took his time with it, rubbing in and around, hiking my skirt up so that he could get better access. I was dripping wet as his fingers glided all over, finally finding their way inside. Those fingers felt so good as they entered me, gliding in and out. Two fingers at first, then three as he moved them in and out quicker and quicker.
Robert Dorning.
I couldn’t believe it was happening again, but I didn’t have time to second guess myself because he was going at me faster now with his fingers. I reached my hand down his sexy muscular chest and found my way down to his pants, and I could feel him completely erect. I rubbed the outside of it, as it swelled bigger and bigger. I could feel it just wanting to break free, and enter my mouth. But instead, in one quick motion he lifted up my legs and dove in between them, tearing my panties aside.
Heaven.
My head tilted back as he began licking me all over, placing the flesh between my legs in his mouth and sucking on it, then lightly gliding his tongue over it. I was creaming. He moved his tongue in and around, up and down, then in and out. I had to hold onto the edge of the couch and bite my tongue just to not scream in ecstasy. He kept going up and down with his tongue, moving wildly, gliding around, and sliding in and out of me. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I was going to climax.
Heat Wave - Part 2 - Erotika Short Stories for Women (Adult Short Stories for Women Series) Page 2
