Arousal

by A. C. Rose

  “So, date four, tomorrow,” he said, rousing us both from our dance trance.

  “How do you know I am free on a Friday night?” I looked up and smiled, playing it a tiny bit coy.

  “I suspect you will consider making yourself available,” he said, mock smugness in his tone. “Because you seem to like to be with me now.”

  “Is that so?” I could not say “no,” but I liked being playful, especially after our heavy-duty conversations today. “Self-assured, much?”

  “More than ever.” He moved a wet strand of hair behind my ear. “And I hope you know how much I like to be with you.”

  “How much, exactly?” I raised my eyebrows, pretending to be making a joke, but I wanted to hear that he liked me too.

  “I love being with you,” he said, running his hands through my still-wet hair. “I can’t focus on anything but you, us. I just need to do whatever it takes to keep you in my life.” He pressed his forehead against mine.

  I didn’t expect to hear that.

  “Well, I happen to be available.” I no longer felt like playing hard to get.

  “Then I consider myself very fortunate.” He took my face in his hands and gazed into my eyes, and then he took over my mouth with his. It was like a romantic, lips-only movie kiss. He left me breathless. “Let’s head out.”

  As we went in to change, I picked up my damp panties along the way. In the kitchen I slipped my slacks off the back of a chair and slid them on, commando. He watched every move before he went into another room to get out of his bottoms, denying me a peek. It was his turn to be coy.

  I towel-dried my hair. Then I tried to shove my undies in my purse, but he walked back into the room and took them. He placed them on the kitchen counter. “I’ll have them washed for you,” he said, clearly not intending to send them home with me. He wore jeans and a bamboo green button-up shirt that hugged his body. So hot.

  “Souvenir?” I smiled. Two days ago I may have argued, but now I liked the idea of my panties remaining close to him, even if I was in a different location.

  “It will help me remember you were here … in case you decide not to sign up for another day with me.” He pouted. “Unless, that is, you do want to give it another go.” He lifted his wallet and keys from a ceramic tray on the kitchen table and slid them into his back pocket and looked over at me, hopeful. “So, date four?”

  “Yes, I’d like that.” I felt a little sad to leave his home. It had been a safe oasis for us, the first time we were not in public or the back of his limo. The pressures of work had been removed for the day and I felt closer to him.

  “I’m still keeping your panties.” He grinned and we walked out of the door. I always loved the way he gently held my lower back when we walked together, and that he let me walk through doors before him.

  As for the panties, I didn’t mind at all.

  Heading back home, in the limo, I rested my head on his shoulder for a while, exhausted. Sam had picked up lunch and left it for us in the back seat—chicken and turkey wraps and salad, with water and ice tea. After some rest, we ate quietly, both of us famished. Sitting in the car next to Nicolai was comfortable today. This was the first time there hadn’t been humping or oral sex or arguing about destiny. I was at ease.

  Until my mind started twirling with thoughts of the real world, namely, my job.

  “We got no work done today, at all,” I pointed out, sitting up straight and grabbing my computer. “My laptop never left the limo. I didn’t even check e-mails!”

  “We took a day off,” he said, watching me open the computer and try to log on to my work e-mail address. “You can catch up on the ride home. I work from here all the time.” He leaned in closer, swiveled my computer toward him, and typed in his user name and password. Within moments I was hooked me up to the Wi-Fi in the limo.

  There were a number of follow-up messages related to our launch party, as well as more inquiries from reviewers. I quickly responded to them all, and forwarded an important one to Aisha with a request for her to messenger the product to a TV producer who’d requested it.

  “Wow, The Today Show wants to do something on our e-reader,” I said, my heart leaping out of my chest a bit from the excitement. “Next week.”

  “That is amazing, Allison.” He pulled out his phone to look at some of his own messages, to let me tend to the business at hand. “Congratulations.”

  “I have to find three fans who love the device,” I said, reading the producer’s e-mail as I went along. “They want to do a girl talk segment about why women love romance book heroes with the reader as the news hook.”

  “You’re the expert on that,” he said. “You should go on as a spokesperson.”

  “Are you kidding? Sheila is the only one allowed to be in the spotlight at our company.”

  “Really?” He raised his brows and rolled his eyes. “Good business is about putting the best people in the right spots. Her approach sounds opposite. It didn’t strike me that she has any knowledge about the field.”

  “I’ll make it work using fans and a romance author.” I quickly went onto the social media pages I had created for the launch and put a call out to the bloggers and beta readers that had received the device before the launch. Reponses poured in quickly, and I sent The Today Show segment producer an option of five names with e-mail addresses and phone numbers, with a little bio on each woman. I also sent my cell number. In a matter of ten minutes, she called me, reviewed the segment, and we made plans for the taping.

  Nicolai seemed to enjoy watching me in action. He was half-looking at his e-mails, while listening to my chat with the TV producer.

  When I got off the phone, I went right back to responding to messages to make sure I didn’t miss anything related to the press. I came across an e-mail from Sheila. Ugh.

  “Hope you had a good day OFF today.” It read like she was shouting. “I expect you back in the office by EOD to report back on your meeting with Nicolai.”

  Fuck, it was already four p.m. I turned my laptop to show him the e-mail.

  “What am I going to tell Sheila about our ‘work’ today?” I asked, making quotation marks in the air on work.

  “Tell her we had an ‘offsite,’ at my home.” He made air quotation marks on offsite.

  “And what about getting me back to the office before she freaks out?” I didn’t even know where the hell I was, or how far we were from Manhattan.

  “We could make it back in time but I have a better idea.” He put his phone down, placed his hands on my keyboard and wrote a short message to Sheila: “Traffic. Will be in tomorrow.” He might as well have typed, “Fuck you, bitch.” That’s how she was going to read it.

  He pushed send before I could try to talk him out of it.

  Her response came zooming back at me immediately with a one word response, “FINE!”

  “Oh jeez, you’re going to get me fired.” Panic gripped my gut. Sheila had dominated my work life for so long that it was my default reaction. Yet this day had nothing to do with work and I felt bad about lying. On the other hand, my job was way too precarious to let the truth get out.

  “Never.” He put his phone down. “You obviously can run this project yourself, and work for me directly, without the agency—if you want.” He smiled and tried to lighten things up. “You can run it from the back of this car, apparently.”

  “That’s totally weird.” I couldn’t imagine leaving my dad’s business and working directly for someone I was so attracted to. “I don’t want to work for you.”

  “You do work for me already,” he reasoned. “Your paycheck is already being covered by the retainer we pay the firm.”

  “I guess that’s true since you are an executive of the investment company.”

  “I own the investment company.”

  I fell silent.

  The first I’d heard about his involvement—and him—was at our launch party. I knew he was in charge, but clearly missed the memo about him being CEO and
owner. Fuck.

  “This is an even worse conflict,” I said with a wry grin, closing my laptop. “I guess I just broke the ultimate taboo by pool-humping my way to the top echelons of power.”

  “There is no conflict—only the one in your mind,” he said, affectionately tapping my head with two fingers.

  “No, no. I believe there is a rule in the employee handbook that specifically says no synchronized breathing or half-naked dancing on the pool deck with a client who is essentially providing for everyone’s paycheck.” Not to mention the fact that my father would turn over in his grave if he knew what I was up to this week.

  “You are not sleeping with me to get somewhere,” he said, exasperated but still smiling. “You’re not even sleeping with me—yet. You have the business skills, and I have the resources. It’s very simple, my love.”

  Of course nothing was really simple when it comes to an employee—me—being intimate with a client—him. Even if we never have sex, it will look like we did. He makes eyes at me like we already have and he yanked me out of work for a pool party. My job and career were on the line.

  But the funny thing was, I was starting to not care as much.

  “Sheila has it in for me as it is,” I finally said. “And I am pretty sure she wants to fuck you, too, so that puts me in a very vulnerable place with my boss.”

  He didn’t look surprised by either comment. But his response was to go into, don’t-worry-I-will-save-the-day mode.

  “I promise I’ll protect you,” he touched my cheek tenderly. “You need to believe that.”

  But I didn’t want him to have to protect me. I wanted to have the inner strength and the outer confidence to deal with that bitch on my own and take back what is mine. “I want to fend for myself,” I said, placing my hand over his. “As I always have.”

  “Some things require the help of a dominant male. And it is time for you to learn that you don’t have to do it alone anymore. Besides, it’s a law of nature. Man protects his woman.”

  I had to chuckle. He was repeating what I had told him in the boardroom about why women love alphas, and adding in a little bit of caveman talk. It was over the top, but sweet. And his sexy and warm tone, combined with his offers to care for me, was so seductive. But I had to be able to manage my own work life without his intervention.

  The limo pulled up to my apartment and the evening ritual began. He picked up my laptop and carried it out of the car. Once again, he walked me past the doorman, hand on my lower back, into the elevator and then to my apartment. He took the key and opened the door for me.

  This time, he came in and looked around.

  “You have a lovely apartment.” He eyed the small kitchenette, and perused the modern artwork on the way, as he put my laptop on the kitchen counter.

  “Thanks.” I dropped my purse and turned on the lights.

  “Where’s the bedroom?”

  “Um, over there, to the right.” I nodded my head in that direction.

  There was a look of steely determination in his eyes as he walked toward it and surveyed the bed from the doorway. Then he entered.

  “May I,” he asked, sitting down before I could respond. He smiled and looked at the space beside him, urging me to join him

  “Are we having date four now?” I flipped off my shoes and got onto the bed with him. “I wouldn’t mind a distraction from the image in my head of Sheila yelling at me tomorrow.”

  “No, I just want to know what it feels like to lie here with you.” He stretched out, head on the pillow, and patted the bed cover beside him for me to join. I slid next to him. He took my hand and held it warmly. My arm tingled.

  “Have you had sex on this bed?” he asked, point blank. I wasn’t’ sure if I liked his question.

  “No, actually, I have not.” And would I tell him if I did? It was one thing talking about having had other sexual partners, but it was another showing him where. “Remind me why that’s any of your business?”

  “Because you are my business now,” he said, squeezing my hand with affection. “At least for a day at a time, per your agreement. So how come you have not had sex here?”

  Because I hadn’t had sex in a while. I’d gotten so tired of the way I inevitably lost interest in lovers and having to duck their calls. I’d been on a bit of a sex moratorium—until Nicolai opened the doors to my suppressed passion. But I couldn’t tell him all that. I had told him enough for one day.

  “It’s a new bed, a newish apartment.” That should suffice, and it was essentially true.

  He sat up and laughed. “So it’s a virgin bed?” He urged me to sit up with him as if getting me out of the supine position would assure keeping the bed a virgin a little longer.

  “You could put it that way.”

  “Good. This is where we will have our consummation date,” he said. “That is, if you choose to.”

  He looked at me and grinned. It made me smile too. I kind of loved seeing him on my bed. It crossed my mind to force him back down and mount him.

  “Time to go.” He got off the bed and tugged me with him.

  His cock was hard. He must have been thinking about the same thing I was—getting back into the bed and fucking our brains out.

  When I walked him to the door, I stopped for one moment and did something I have not done during all the smooching we’d shared—had never done with anyone, actually. I pushed him against the door and kissed him hard. Then I pressed my hips against his until his rock hard erection was biting into me.

  “Are you trying to cop a feel before I go,” he said with a grin, almost daring me with his tone.

  “Yes, I am,” I admitted.

  He lifted me up in his arms so I could wrap my legs around his waist. He turned us around, and pushed me up against the door, his stiff cock against me.

  “You know how easy it would be to fuck you right here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Such a thin piece of material separates you from me. You could step out of your pants and I out of mine. I am sure, it would slide right in.”

  I was wet and I wanted him to slide in. “Please, be my guest.”

  He pushed me harder against the door and began to slowly grind into me, establishing a sensual rhythm. He kissed me wildly, passionately, roughly. Pleasure bloomed between my legs and grew stronger and stronger as excitement built. I was so, so close, just from the tension of his rubbing against me. I panted in his ear and smashed my hips against his. He pushed back harder.

  Our bodies were like two powerful magnets, held together. Then, suddenly, he pulled away.

  “Ah, Ms. Monroe, you almost pulled me into your siren song,” he smiled but his breathing was rapid. He gently let me down from my spot against the door, and ended our intense humping. “But I have to leave you filled with desire for me. If I soothe it all tonight you may not want me back.”

  He kissed the top of my head and took hold of my cheek for a moment. Then he found his way to my neck, planting sensual kisses before pressing his lips on my sensitive flesh. Just as he was about to leave a new mark, I ducked out of his reach, and surprised him when I quickly moved my mouth to his neck. I licked him. He tasted like sun and a bit of sweat. I gently gnawed at him with my teeth as my tongue flicked his skin. Then I brought the power of my mouth to one spot and sucked, hard, and rough, losing myself in the feel of his flesh. He was at my mercy. And I didn’t stop until I felt satiated. When I was done, I held his cheek as I pressed my head against his chest.

  When I pulled away to look at my handiwork, a look was radiating from his eyes I hadn’t seen before. Maybe it was crazy passion mingled with affection. And maybe I was looking at him the same way.

  He seemed awestruck as he leaned against the wall and pressed his hands behind him for support. He closed his eyes, and took shallow breaths, as if trying to center himself.

  The hickey was not so big, but it was dark red and pink. I couldn’t stop staring at it, mesmerized by what I’d done. And I was stunned at his rea
ction, as if I’d sucked the wind right out of him. Yet he had this contented look on his face.

  “What made you do that?” He was coming back from his momentary stupor.

  “I don’t know.” Did I do something wrong? “I needed to…”

  “…Give me a love bite?” he asked, his hand moving to the spot where I had left my passion bruise.

  “Yes, I guess I did.” I reached over to touch it, too.

  He moved his hand out of the way and let me feel his flesh. He bent his head to capture my hand between his ear and shoulder.

  “You marked me,” he said. A huge grin spread across his beautiful face and his eyes were sparkling. “You’ve made me yours. “

  “If hickeys are the official Transylvanian symbol of possession, I guess I did.” I laughed at how odd it was, him getting so excited about receiving a hickey.

  “My grandmother’s prophecy stated that my true love would mark me as her own and claim me before others who desired to do the same,” he said.

  Sheila. She was the only one I knew of who wanted him as her own. And now she would probably notice that, following a day of “working outside of the office,” the client returns with a mark that matches the two already on my neck.

  “You have to cover it with makeup tomorrow,” I said.

  “Nonsense, I will bear your mark proudly.” He leaned in and kissed me. “This is who we are. We have to get beyond the need to hide things from others.”

  He pulled me into his arms and held me tight. I melted into him.

  “I guess this is good night,” I said, a little sad to see him go.

  “Temporarily, for now, but perhaps we will meet in your dreams,” he said. “Good night, my love.”

  As he walked away, I realized it was getting more difficult to part. It had barely been seventy-two hours since we’d met, and he was becoming an essential part of my life. How did that happen?

  First, my fear had been that he would overwhelm me or try to absorb me into his plans. Now, I worried I could lose him, that he would decide he’d made a mistake. I had tried most of my adult life to avoid getting involved with men. Here I was, three days in, and Nicolai had become my focus—or my distraction, or my addiction.