“Yeah, later.” I look at Ian, but then realise he doesn’t know Cohen is my boss, just that we work together. Speaking of Cohen, if he’s going to spend every night here, when does he have the time to possibly fuck someone else? Not that I want him to, but I don’t know why he just won’t admit that we have something going on here.
“Keep tomorrow free,” she says, mouthful of banana. “We should have a girls’ night, just us two.”
“Sounds perfect,” I tell her, heading to my room. I stop in my tracks when I realise just how fucked-up my situation with Cohen is, because the first thought that runs through my head is: if I tell him that I can’t see him tomorrow night, will he spend it with someone else?
*****
I’m sitting on my bed surfing the Internet when Cohen walks into my room, shutting the door behind him.
“Hey.” I smile and close my laptop, placing it on the floor before leaning against the bed.
“Hey,” he says, giving me a quick kiss on the lips before sitting down on the floor by my legs. I don’t know why he sits there and not on the bed. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, his legs bent before him. He kisses the side of my thigh, and I decide to join him down there, sitting on the carpet next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. Once I’m settled, he kisses the top of my head. I rest my hand on his thigh and close my eyes, breathing him in. He seems so relaxed, but also so quiet. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he replies, turning to nuzzle my neck. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”
“Because you’re here.”
He moves to kneel in front of me and I grip his t-shirt, using it to pull him forward so I can kiss his lips. The kiss soon becomes heated, my hands on each side of his face while his grip my thighs, and then slowly push up my dress. When he ends the kiss and moves back, lying on his stomach, I watch as he lifts my dress a little higher and spreads my thighs. Moving my panties to the side, he licks my pussy then slides his tongue inside me, all the while keeping his eyes on me. I can’t do anything but look back into them, watching him, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as the pleasure builds. I imagine what we look like, both of us on the floor, Cohen going down on me. I lay my head back on the bed, breaking eye contact.
“Cohen,” I whisper. “Please, fuck me.”
He licks my clit, ignoring me.
“Cohen,” I say, louder this time, tugging on his hair.
He pulls back suddenly and stands, picks me up from the floor and throws me onto the bed. He removes his shirt, and then is on top of me, kissing me almost desperately. I can feel his hard cock pressing through his jeans, and I reach down and start to undo his belt while he thrusts against me, exactly where I want him to be right now. I get the buckle undone, then start working on his jeans button and zipper. I nail it. Soon, his cock is out, my panties are off, and he’s inside me, fucking me hard and deep, just the way I want it.
“Cohen, yes,” I moan, burying my face in his neck, kissing him there, wanting to taste every part of him. He thrusts into me over and over again, then rolls me over and slides into me from behind. When he touches my clit, I come instantly, already on the verge from his mouth. I call out his name before burying my face into my pillow, biting it. Cohen continues to fuck me until he’s ready to come, then pulls out. I turn around and look up at him.
“Where do you want it?” he asks, tone dark and husky.
His gaze roams over my breasts, then over my face. I decide to take matters into my own hands, grabbing his cock and putting it in my mouth just as the first spurt of cum leaves it. I swallow as he moans and cups my head. Once he’s done, he pulls away and looks down at me, “Fucking hell, Jacinta,” he says, collapsing on the bed and taking me with him. “That was amazing. You are amazing.”
He’s the amazing one.
Chapter Eleven
I knock on the door of his office the next morning, file in hand.
“Come in,” he calls out.
I open the door and walk in, my heels clicking as I approach his desk. “Here is the Mason file.”
“Thanks,” he says, glancing up from his laptop. He looks behind me and asks, “Is anyone else here?”
“No,” I reply, putting the file on his desk. “But don’t get any ideas. They can come back at any moment.”
“You worry too much, Jacinta.” He grins, crooking his finger at me. “You can at least give me a kiss, especially since I don’t get to see you tonight.”
Yes, about that. Who is he going to see tonight, if not me? I can’t ask, I know I can’t, but I really do want to know.
He’s not yours, and you’re meant to be okay with it.
I have to be okay with it.
I am.
I hope.
I glance at the door, then bend down and give him a quick kiss, but he has other ideas and deepens it. I put my hands on his shoulders to brace myself, then use them as leverage to push me back.
“More,” he demands, licking his lips.
“No,” I tell him, taking a few steps back. “I have to get back to work, and if someone sees us…”
I’ll probably lose my job, and he’ll get to keep his.
I’m replaceable here, no matter how much they all tell me that they can’t function without me. And isn’t that a buzzkill?
I flash him a smile then close his office door behind me, heading back to my desk. The rest of the day passes slowly. Cohen walks me out to my car, his hand on my lower back. It sucks that it’s the most touching we’re going to be able to do right now; we can’t even have a quick kiss in case anyone sees. He opens my door for me, his hand now on my hip, squeezing gently. Yeah, he wants to touch me as much as I want to touch him. I’m glad he doesn’t try and kiss me, because I probably would have kissed him back, and then we’d be in a world of shit.
“Bye, Cohen,” I say, staring into his eyes, hoping that he isn’t going to be with another woman tonight. It’s just one night; surely he can manage without sex?
“Have a good night with Sadie, Jacinta,” he tells me, keeping one hand on the door, the other on the hood. “Call me if you need anything, or if you change your mind and want to see me. I can always come over after the two of you finish your bonding session.”
“I’ll let you know,” I say, knowing that I probably won’t be inviting him over tonight, unless Sadie and I get drunk and I text him, which actually is a possibility. Maybe there will be a late-night booty call after all. “Bye.”
He closes the door and I drive home, my mind racing. He said to call him if I need anything, so maybe that means he has no plans tonight? I make it home before Sadie for once, jump in the shower and start getting ready for our night out. I pick out a black off-the-shoulder dress, and pair it with some black ankle boots. They’re cut-out boots, my favourite ones. I hear Sadie call my name just as I’m about to do my makeup, so I grab my bag and join her in her room, so I can chat to her while we get ready.
“Where are we even going?” I ask, sitting on the floor in front of the full-length mirror in her room. I need to know so I can choose between a light makeup or something more dramatic.
“Dinner followed by a few drinks?” she suggests, opening her bathroom door. “I’ll have a quick shower and then we can decide.”
“Okay, sounds good,” I say, even though the two of us will probably end up at our regular bar. We don’t seem to like change very much. I decide on a brown smoky eye and a red lip. While Sadie finishes getting ready, I sit on the kitchen countertop and pour myself a drink, a vodka and orange juice. May as well get the party started.
“You’re drinking before dinner?” she asks, eyebrows lifting. “And before we even took a photo of the two of us? Now you’re going to have drunk face in them.”
“I’m not going to have drunk face after one drink,” I reply, rolling my eyes. I point to her cup. “I poured you one.” I pause, taking in her tight red dress. “You look amazing. I wonder if I can fit my ass in that dress.”
“Try and see.” She gr
ins and picks up her drink. “So, we’re taking a taxi then?”
“Yep,” I say, popping the P. “If we’re going out, we may as well go big.”
“Go big or go home,” she adds, lifting her cup in the air. “To a good night with my best friend in the world.”
I clink my cup with hers, and then we both drink.
*****
“How good is this?” I ask Sadie, eyes wide, pointing to my mojito which they’ve given me in some fancy jar.
“Pretty amazing,” Sadie concedes, taking a sip of her own. “And the jars are super cute too.”
“We should buy jars for home,” I say, nodding. “And mojito ingredients. I’ll bet we make great mojitos.”
After a delicious dinner—I got the hamburger and fries, Sadie had nachos—we ended up at our usual watering hole, and are now on our third drink. We decided to mix things up, trying a few different cocktails that we’ve never had before.
“We should try a new shot next,” Sadie says, scanning the drink menu. “How about a ‘wet pussy’ shot? Have you tried that before?”
“Yeah, I have. They’re good.”
“Lemon drop?”
“No, I haven’t tried that one,” I say, reading the ingredients. My phone beeps with a message from Cohen.
Hope you’re having a good night.
I smile as I reply.
I am. Are you?
Sadies stands. “I’ll go get the next round. Don’t make eye contact, there are men circling and just hoping for a cue to approach.”
I laugh and keep my eyes on my phone, waiting for his reply. I get it almost instantly.
Send me a photo of you.
I send him one of the selfies I took before leaving the house. It’s of me smiling into the camera, makeup and hair on point.
You look fucking beautiful, he replies, making me glance up, smiling like an idiot. Unfortunately for me, I happen to unintentionally make eye contact with a random guy walking by. When he sees me, he must think I’m smiling at him because he starts to make his way over. Sadie told me not to make eye contact, but smiling is even worse, because some men take that as an invitation.
“Hello,” he says, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to me.
“Uhh, hi,” I say, looking behind him for Sadie. “I’m sorry, I’m just waiting here for my friend to come back, I didn’t mean to—”
“You’re too pretty to be sitting here all alone,” he cuts me off. “Why don’t I keep you company until your friend gets back?”
I purse my lips, then look down into my drink. Not like he’s giving me a chance here. I can just ask him to please leave, and am just about to do that when Sadie returns to the table with two shot in her hands.
“Who are you?” she asks, sitting down and sliding my shot over to me. She turns to me and says, “Thought I told you not to make eye contact.”
“It was an accident.”
She sighs and turns to the man. “We’re kind of on a girls’ night. No men allowed.”
“Well, maybe I’ll buy us a round of drinks,” he says, grinning at Sadie like she’s being cute. “That might change your mind.”
“No, thank you,” I tell him. “Appreciate the offer, but we kind of want to be left alone.”
“No women want to be left alone” is his smug reply.
I glance at Sadie, who stares back at me.
At the same time, both of us do our shots, slam the empty glasses down, stand up, and then head to the bar for another drink.
Chapter Twelve
Sadie and I practically fall out of the taxi once we arrive home, then stumble to the front door. I can’t find my house key, and it takes Sadie about five minutes to find hers. We do make it inside though. Sadie sits on the counter while I grab two water bottles plus four painkillers. Then I turn the fryer on because I really feel like fries right now, and luckily we have some in the freezer.
“You want fries? I feel like bacon and eggs,” Sadie says, grabbing the bottle of water and painkillers.
I shrug, my head spinning. “Then let’s make both.”
“Okay,” she agrees, then starts giggling. “I had a fun night. Even though I fell over.” She pauses, seeming lost in thought. “We can never go back there now.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s the only place we go to, Sadie. Don’t worry, no one will remember you falling over.”
“The bouncer will,” she grumbles, swallowing the pills with the water. “He’s there every single week. And he’s hot. And he saw me fall over. I possibly flashed him during the incident.”
“You probably made his night then,” I say, taking the fries out of the freezer. “What’s the time?”
Sadie checks her phone. “It’s eleven. We better get to bed or we’ll never wake up for work tomorrow.”
“You think we’d be more mature and stop going out on weekdays,” I groan, rubbing my forehead.
“We’ll do that when we’re old.”
Sadie and I are eating the fries, smothering them in ketchup, when she says, “Is it too late to call the men over?”
“What, you aren’t going to spoon me tonight?” I tease, licking the salt from my lips.
“I love you, Jacinta, but there’s one thing that you can’t give me.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
“You going to call Ian?”
“You going to call Cohen?” she asks in return.
We both grin and pick up our phones.
*****
Cohen doesn’t answer his phone.
I mean, it is late, and he has work in the morning too, so maybe he fell asleep. I check the time since our last message. It was over an hour ago. Of course, my mind rushes to the worst scenario and, even though if Cohen is with someone else I can’t exactly get angry about it, I find myself unable to sleep because of it. Then again, it’s not like he would’ve found a random for the night. He was at home, didn’t even go out anywhere tonight. He’s probably fast asleep. I can’t believe I’m even worrying about this shit. I’m not going to bother asking him where he was tonight, because I’m not his girlfriend and it’s not my business. I never thought I’d be one of the women in a situationship, or whatever they call it these days, but it seems like this is the usual for dating in recent times.
I don’t like, not one bit, but I do like Cohen, and I want my fill of him. It’s reckless and selfish and stupid, mainly the latter—trust me, I know it. If I get too close to him, it’s me who will get hurt in the long run, not him. I should bail now, but there’s something telling me not to.
Probably my vagina.
I groan and roll over, burying my face in my pillow, the alcohol making the room spin.
I am not Cohen’s exception.
I need to say it like a chant, over and over, so deep down inside I don’t think that he’s going to change his ways for me. I’m smarter than this, usually, but Cohen makes my brain turn itself off. No, I can’t blame him. It’s me. And when this goes south, it’s me who is going to have to get myself together.
I close my eyes, and allow sleep to come.
*****
I’m five minutes late to work the next morning. I rush in, coffee in my hand, happy to see that no clients are early and waiting. Placing my coffee on my desk, I hope that my headache won’t last all day. I’ve had worse hangovers though, so I know I’ll get by fine; I have no choice.
Cohen is the last lawyer to arrive. He comes straight to my desk and flashes me a knowing smile, followed by a “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I reply, taking a sip of coffee.
“You don’t look hung over,” he points out, smirking.
“The power of makeup.”
“Did you have a good night though?” he asks, resting his briefcase on my desk.
“I did,” I tell him, smiling warmly. “It was good to have some quality Sadie time. We probably shouldn’t have drunk so much though.”
Binge-drinking, followed by binge-eating. Not our finest moments, but fun nonetheless.
He licks his lips, then asks, “Did you go home alone?”
I blink slowly a few times.
Did I go home alone?
“I wouldn’t have tried to call you when I got home if I didn’t,” I say, arching my brow. “I’m not the type to bring home a random guy, Cohen. You should know me better than that.”
I regret the words instantly. Maybe it would have been good to let him think that I have options too; I mean, it is him who set the rules. Now he’s going to think I’m going to be sitting around waiting for him whenever he wants to see me, so basically he’s free to do as he pleases and have a loyal woman at home.
“Right,” he mutters, looking down. “I just had to ask, is all. I’ll see you for lunch?”
I nod. “Yeah. You have a meeting in twenty minutes.”
“I know,” he says, grinning. “Send him in when he gets here.”
“Okay.”
Is it possible he was stressing over me last night too? Over what I was doing and with whom? Or is he just merely curious? I really don’t think I’m cut out for all this. I’m not usually one to play games with men, and this certainly feels like one.
I just don’t know what to think anymore.
*****
I decide not to think at all.
We have lunch together, then after work Cohen follows me back to my house. As soon as I get of my car, he grab my by the waist and pushes me back against my door, kissing me like he hasn’t seen me in a month. He pulls my top out of my skirt, where I’d tucked it in, and runs his hands over the expanse of my skin. When he starts trailing his hand up my thigh, I pull him to the front door. He kisses my neck while I find my key then, when I finally get the door open, he lifts me in his arms, closes the door, and carries me to my bedroom, our mouths never parting. He puts me down and I finally get to play out my fantasy of ripping his work shirt off, the buttons flying everywhere, the white material thrown onto the floor. He slides his shoes off while I get on my knees, and then I undo his belt and remove his slacks.
I raise my eyes to his in disbelief. “You went commando to work?”
Nemesis Page 7
