Three Little Mistakes

by Nikki Sloane

  “Not a date,” I repeated, skeptical. He put his hand on my shoulder and helped me sit up.

  “It’s a job interview.”

  I rose onto my shaky legs and scrambled to pull my clothes back up, knowing it was ridiculous to hurry given what we’d done. “Technically, I already work for you.”

  He laughed softly. “No, you’re fired. I’m not employing a waitress who has sex in the middle of the dining area with a customer.”

  Oh, holy crap. I’d never been fired before, and the business side of me was horrified. “Joseph—”

  “Do you need this job? Because I’m under the impression you came here to get to me.” The side of his mouth twitched up into a smile. “And now you’ve had me. Do you want to be done with it?”

  That was the ideal scenario, so I pressed my lips together. Even though my clothes were back in place, I still felt naked, and a large part of me wanted to strip everything off and climb back on the table. “What’s the job?”

  “We can discuss it tonight.”

  I frowned. “No, we can’t. I have a meeting about a case study I’m working on.”

  He wiped a hand over his mouth, as if considering alternatives. “Tomorrow.”

  “Sure.” My heart fluttered. Tomorrow I’d go out to dinner with the man whose dirty mouth made me feel like a new person, one who actively lived her life instead of following the plan her parents had given her.

  “Six o’clock?” he asked and I nodded. He lifted his suit jacket off the seat, slipped it on, and pulled his phone from an inside pocket, extending it to me. “Your number.”

  I tapped it out on the screen, and when I passed it back, he caught my hand in his. He used his hold to draw me close, slipping an arm around my back. His warm breath on my neck made me shiver. His power over me was intoxicating.

  “Think about what we just did when you touch yourself tonight.” His tone was non-negotiable, a strict order.

  If I was brave enough, I would have told him there was a one hundred percent chance of that happening, but I couldn’t work up the nerve. Instead, I nodded quickly. He glanced at the screen of his phone as if checking the time, and he scowled.

  “I’ve got to go.” He crushed his mouth over mine, then his mouth traveled to my ear. “That was easily the best meal I’ve ever had.”

  I turned my apron in and the manager waved me off, mumbling something about a text message from Joseph, and it was all right not to come back.

  I should have felt guilt about my total lack of professionalism, or shame at what I’d done, but I didn’t. All I could think about was doing it again. The wrongness felt good on me, an odd, new sensation.

  My phone rang as I plodded through the snow to the CTA stop closest to the restaurant, and I sighed when I saw the name on the screen. I’d just doubled the number of men I’d slept with, so of course he would call.

  “Hey,” Ross said. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “I’ve got a group thing, that case study for MacKenzie’s class.” I didn’t bother to point out that I had it every Monday night since the beginning of the semester. Ross couldn’t remember when we were dating, he wasn’t going to start now. “Why? What’s up?”

  “Can you blow it off and help me out? Gillian’s having a wine tasting with a bunch of alumni tonight and invited us.”

  Us. I ducked into the stairwell, grateful to be out of the wind, but instantly irritated. Gillian was the professor that Ross was a TA for. There’d be opportunity for networking for Ross. I’d have gone if I was his girlfriend, and I’d have been bored out of my mind. But we were friends now, nothing more.

  “I can’t, sorry.”

  “Come on, Em, please? This could be really important for me.”

  For a moment, I considered caving. He’d been trying so hard to get his foot in the door somewhere, either an interview or an internship. But I shook my head, not that he could see it. I’d turned down dinner with Joseph tonight. I was trying my hand at being bad now, and sticking with my studies was as far as I was willing to go with being good.

  “You can’t go by yourself?”

  He hesitated. “It’s a couples thing.”

  The train rail rattled overhead and I hustled up the stairs to the elevated platform. It was loud enough I thought about asking him to repeat it, but I knew what he’d said. “We’re not a couple anymore.”

  “I know, but we could fake it if we had to for one night.”

  Joseph had unleashed something inside me, and the words tumbled out. “No, I’ve faked it enough times with you.”

  “Wow,” Ross said, his tone harsh and condescending. “That’s fair.”

  The train clattered to the platform and I darted through the open doors, finding an empty seat. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, although I didn’t really feel sorry. “I get that this thing tonight is important to you, but you’ve got to understand my grades are important to me.”

  A noise like he’d scoffed echoed through the phone. “Yeah, like your dad’s not going to find you some cushy job, no matter what.”

  What the hell was he talking about? He’d known my family his whole life. “Um, have you not met my dad? Because if you had, you’d know how likely that is.” This conversation needed to be over. “It doesn’t matter, Ross. You said we should focus on ourselves. So you should go do that.”

  “What the hell’s gotten into you?”

  Joseph Monsato. “I’m just doing what you told me to. I’ve gotta go. Good luck finding someone to fake it with.” I ended the call and tucked the phone in my purse. It had to look ridiculous, me sitting alone on the El, grinning like an idiot.

  The rest of the day dragged, but I did my best to stay active in the case study group. A text message came through late in the evening, when I’d gotten back to my apartment, shed my winter clothes, and put on my most comfortable pajamas.

  I sighed in relief. I’d struggled with paranoia that I’d never hear from him again since I’d already slept with him. At the time, a tiny, bitchy voice whispered his dinner invitation had been the fastest way to brush me off.

  I laughed, and then realized he didn’t know what building I actually lived in. I wasn’t about to get into it through text messages, so tomorrow I’d have to hang out in the atrium of the building one block over.

  I almost dropped the phone. Even in text messages, he was commanding and it was thrilling. Where was the shame in what I’d done? In what I was doing? I’d slept with a man I knew almost nothing about, and I’d let him take me right out in the open. Who could I become beneath him?

  I curled up under the covers in the bed Ross and I had made love in, but I’d never felt an inkling of what I’d had on the table with Joseph. Being wrong and bad was just as I’d hoped it would be. It was so, so good.

  A job interview, not a date, he’d said. What did it mean? I’d done nothing to demonstrate I was professional or capable in an employable way. Obviously, I wasn’t experienced, not like he was. He certainly knew his way around my body, showing he’d had plenty of practice.

  Without thinking, my hand was between my legs, following his command. The orgasm he’d drawn from my body this afternoon had sent me into the stratosphere. The word intense didn’t cover it, and my best climaxes when I was alone couldn’t touch it. I wanted his mouth where I grew damp and my fingers stirred now. I craved his dirty words and even dirtier touch.

  My pulse picked up as I started to enjoy what I was doing. The bedroom was already dark, but I closed my eyes to picture him better. How hot had it been when he looked up at me, his mouth on my pussy? His demanding eyes had locked onto mine and there’d been a desire to give in to anything he asked for. Hadn’t I?

  I wanted him to possess me.

  My fingers fumbled over the nub of flesh that eventually sent me over the edge, and I came quickly, Joseph’s name on my lips. Whatever his job offer was, I’d take it, as long as I got to see him again.

  chapter

  NINE

  JOSEPHr />
  Noemi must have been waiting for me just inside, because the revolving glass door spat her out into the cold before I’d finished pulling up to the curb. She climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door, then flashed a shy smile at me.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “You didn’t do as told,” I said as I eased away from the curb and into traffic. “Where the fuck was my picture?”

  There was a moment of stunned silence. She’d expected some sort of greeting, but this was so much more fun. I wanted to start right away. Didn’t want her to revert to the timid version of herself.

  The words came out tight. “You were serious?”

  “Yes. Did you think about me when you rubbed one out?”

  “I did.” Her voice was uneven but I could tell she was trying hard to sound casual. “And you?”

  “And me, what?”

  “Did you think about me while you touched yourself?”

  “That’s a fairly personal question, Noemi.” I scowled for effect. “A good girl wouldn’t ask something like that.”

  A faint smile teased her lips. “So, did you?”

  “You better fucking believe it.”

  She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, trying to play it off as if she didn’t care, but she did. This magnetic thing between us had just as strong a hold on her as it did me. Fucking had only intensified it.

  Her voice was hurried, another attempt to be brave. “What did you think about?”

  “Specifically? You want me tell you all the dirty details?”

  “Yes.”

  I laughed. “I will, but we’ve got business to attend to first.” Not to mention, I didn’t want to walk into the restaurant sporting a hard-on, like my cock seemed intent on doing anytime she was around.

  “The job interview,” she said.

  “Yeah. Tell me about the boy who couldn’t do what I did.”

  Her expression went skeptical. “You want me to talk about Ross? That’s important for this job that you’ve told me nothing about?”

  “Yes, if Ross is your ex, tell me about him.”

  Noemi fidgeted with her purse. “We grew up together. We started dating our senior year of college, but we called it off about a month ago.”

  “Why?”

  Tension seemed to coil in her. “I’m pretty sure I mentioned that I’ve lived a bit of a sheltered life. I . . .”

  “Tell me.”

  “I feel like I’m changing and he’s staying the same.” She shrugged her shoulders. “He’s still the self-absorbed, elitist asshole I lost my virginity to.” Her hand crept up to cover her mouth, like she wanted to stop anything else from coming out. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

  “Why? Is it true?”

  “Maybe,” she whispered.

  I shot a sideways glance at her. “Then why the hell do you feel bad about saying it?”

  “Because he’s my friend.”

  An alarm buzzed in my head. Baggage. “I’m sorry, friend?”

  She shifted as if uncomfortable. “No. I don’t know. He’s only interested in being friends when he needs something.”

  “Like a quick fuck?”

  Her head shook quickly. “God, no. That’s over.” Her hands pressed in her lap. “And now that I . . . because we . . .”

  “Since I can fuck you to an orgasm?”

  She cut off her gasp. “Yeah.”

  “I want to ask you some questions, and I need you to think about them, and then answer them honestly.”

  She seemed to understand the seriousness in my tone. “Interview questions.”

  “Yes. How old where you when you lost your virginity?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  We pulled up to a stoplight and the only sound was my turn signal chiming quietly. “That’s an unusual age. Why’d you wait so long?”

  “I didn’t want to have sex with someone I couldn’t see myself marrying. I wanted to be in love.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Then, why did you let me fuck you?” We weren’t in love and I wasn’t marriage material, I’d made that perfectly clear. Hadn’t I?

  She took her time assembling an answer. “I’ve always done the right thing. I wanted to be wrong, and you said you could show me.”

  Oh, yes. My heartbeat kicked at her perfect answer. “Do you like when I tell you what to do?” She nodded, her lips pressed tight together. “Do you want me to show you all the dirty, bad things you don’t know?” The hands on her thighs slid inward, her body clenching. That was enough of an answer for me to keep talking. “I want to teach you, Noemi.”

  The first night I saw her, I’d thought about auditioning her for the blindfold club, but being the only man to show her pleasure had created a desire too powerful to ignore. I wanted to show her everything. Push her boundaries and unleash the sexual creature inside that was desperate to come out. She’d be magnificent.

  “How would you teach me?”

  My hand left the wheel and settled over hers, and my fingertips traced her long, delicate fingers. “You’d be my submissive.”

  “What?”

  “You’d give me control over you.”

  She’d gone as rigid as a statue. “I have enough people telling me what to do.”

  “But my control would set you free, Noemi.”

  “This . . . is the job you’re offering?”

  I curled my fingers around hers. “You’re in a hard spot. You want things, but you’re too shy to ask, or too scared of what will happen. I’m offering you pleasure like you wouldn’t fucking believe, and you’ll be safe from regret or judgement. If you say yes, your desires become my responsibility.”

  Her breath caught. “Have you done this before?”

  “I have.” My arrangement a long time ago with Tara had been pleasurable for both of us. She’d discovered a side of herself during that month that had changed her life forever. I had enormous pride as her former partner, watching her shed the shackles of conformity. But since then, I hadn’t found anyone else who captured my interest.

  Noemi stared down at my hand encasing hers. As the silence grew, I wanted to know what she was thinking, but now was not the time to push. This decision needed to be hers, no matter how much I wanted it.

  And it was scary how badly I wanted her to say yes. I’d planned out the evening with a best-case scenario in mind, and those thoughts were the ones that got me hard. They left me with a fist full of cum this morning.

  “I don’t really understand what that means,” she said finally. “You’d be my . . .?”

  “Dominant. I control the scene, you control the limits.”

  She took a breath. “And we’d be exclusive?”

  I nodded. “During the time of our arrangement.”

  Alarm flashed through her expression. “Arrangement? How long?”

  “I was thinking a month. We can change that whenever, if it doesn’t work, or if we both want to keep going.” We neared the trio of restaurants that made up the Italian Village, and I drove up to the valet stand. “You don’t have to answer tonight, we’ll talk about it—”

  “No need,” she blurted out. “Yes.”

  Her abrupt answer surprised me, but I didn’t get a chance to respond, because the valet opened her door and cold flooded the car. I grabbed my ticket and ignored the possessive feeling I usually had when handing my beauty of a car over to a stranger, focusing instead on the beauty of my brand-spanking new submissive. Yeah, there was definitely going to be spanking in our future. But as much as I wanted her to say yes, I didn’t like how quickly she’d agreed. Something for us to work on.

  We were seated in a quiet two-top in the upper level of the high-end restaurant, probably a far cry from her grad school dinners of ramen noodles. Although her apartment building was nice. She probably had roommates. Fuck, I’d let my cock do all the thinking. I still didn’t even know her last name. I’d Googled her that first night after I’d driven her home, but my search had yielded nothing. Did her name end
with two E’s? Or a Y?

  Her hazel eyes stared at me like I was a new person. “I have more questions,” she said. “I probably should have asked them before saying yes, but I don’t think your answers are going to change my mind.” She pushed back the sleeves of her deep-red sweater dress and set her elbows on the table. “Questions about the details of the arrangement.”

  “So professional,” I said.

  I ordered a bottle of wine, and shot a smirk when she got carded. But the smirk drained from my face at the thought the waiter now knew her name and I didn’t.

  “I have questions, too,” I said. “And I get to go first. Tell me about yourself, really. Who are you?”

  “Is this because of my sister?” Her face fell. “She’s having a hard time with my stepmom moving out. That’s why she was in the papers.”

  Her sister was in the news? “You said the other day your mother moved out, not your stepmom.”

  “My real mom and I don’t talk. She never had the mothering gene.” Her expression changed to one of indifference. “My stepmom’s always done the mothering things for me. For a while my parents had shared custody, but things . . . got complicated, and it was easier for everyone when I chose to stay with my father full-time.”

  “You had to choose?”

  She blinked, and her face hardened. “It wasn’t much of a choice. I was a pawn to my real mom, just another way for her to get money out of my dad. I didn’t lose a lot of sleep over it.”

  “But you said your parents are controlling.”

  She made a face. “Maybe that’s too strong of a word. They have high expectations.”

  Already my dominant side kicked into gear. “I don’t like backtracking. Be confident enough to say what you mean.”

  Her eyes were sharp and intense. Noemi didn’t like critique. “Fine. They have the money and the power, so they usually get their way. Some people would say that’s controlling.” My girl took a sip of her wine and seemed to shrug off the tension the comment had given her. “But my dad’s very smart, and I know it sounds cheesy, but he’s a great man. He loves me. He only wants the best for me.”