by Ella Brooke
“I’m dating someone.”
“I don’t see a ring. And you won’t be getting one either. You don’t change, Kit. You’re still the hyper-independent, stone-cold bitch you always were.” he shook his head. “You just don’t want to be what a man needs, and so you’ll always be alone.”
“Could you kindly fuck off from my table?” Kit said a bit loudly.
“It’s a free country, Kitto.”
Kit looked him square in the eye. Then she rose and poured her hot coffee in his lap.
“Hey!”
She didn’t stop moving until she was at the counter where Pearl had just looked up in surprise. “Hi. I’m terribly sorry. Could you get some to-go containers?”
“Is that guy bothering you?” Pearl said.
As if in answer, Joe was up and behind Kit within a second, shouting what a crazy bitch she was.
“Young man, have a seat,” Pearl ordered.
Pearl must’ve hit some kind of button, because a moment later, although Joe had not taken a seat, a 6’5” grill cook came barreling out of the kitchen and grabbed Joe’s arm. Without stopping, he hauled Kit’s ex to the entrance and threw him out.
Joe moved toward the door once, but then backed away when the grill cook made a threatening gesture.
“Thank you,” Kit said.
“Don’t mention it, love,” Pearl replied. “Some young men don’t know how to treat a lady.”
Kit sat down to her dinner, now feeling awkward as she tentatively took a bite of her macaroni. It was good. Everything was good. But it was hard not to take some of what Joe had said to heart.
How can you “want to be what someone needs?” Kit knew she could be distant, but she felt she’d earned that after her experiences. She could get close to someone if she really wanted to, couldn’t she?
After walking home, Kit got on her computer and started looking up old pictures of herself and Grant together. They hadn’t been a couple, so none of the photos were posed. Just pictures here and there of the two of them smiling.
They’d looked so young. Grant’s jawline hadn’t grown quite so broad yet, and her face had been a bit rounder.
What would life have been like if they’d gotten together for real back then? Would she be a warmer person? Would she have still gone to law school; would he have developed an internationally lucrative business?
Would they have been happy? Could they still be?
Kit drew herself a hot bath as she wondered, imagining what life would’ve been like with him.
***
The following day, Kit found her attention drifting all through work. Even not knowing what she would be doing that evening, Kit could imagine what her evening would be like. Grant wasn’t as mysterious as he seemed to think.
Directly after work, she shed her dress suit and padded around the house barefoot in her underwear, restraightening and styling her hair and reapplying her makeup, and finally slipping into her evening dress. The black bodice had a V-neckline and a cut-out sleeve on the left side, leaving her right shoulder bare. The A-line skirt along the bottom faded in black and white ombré.
She checked herself in the mirror more times than she would be comfortable saying as she waited anxiously for Grant to arrive. She twisted her fingers and sat perched on the edge of her sofa. And remembered.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in law?” Grant asked.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in…nothing?” Kit countered, rolling to her side to drape her leg over his and rest her head on his bare chest.
“Touché.” Grant kissed the top of her head.
“Is that all you need from me? To be pretty? It may have escaped your notice that I’m smart. I mean, what with my being in your classes in high school, despite being younger than you.”
“I don’t mean anything by it. Most girls like men to call them pretty.”
“Call me necessary. Call me clever. Only after that can you call me beautiful.”
Grant chuckled.
Kit looked down on her dress. It was simple, but fairly lovely, and it did a lot of work to display her chest prominently. Was it too much for a first date?
But her buzzer rang, and it was too late for second thoughts. She went to the buzzer and told the doorman to let Grant up. She paced back and forth, her eyebrows knitted together and her chest heaving. A moment later, he knocked, and she opened the door for him.
There Grant stood. He was as sharply dressed as she was, and they stood there for a moment, staring at one another with wide and searching eyes.
“D-do you want to come in?” she managed.
“We should get going. I have reservations…” Grant murmured.
No more words passed between them. Instead, she went downstairs with him and got in the limo. However, the close proximity to him proved to be too much. They had only been on the road for a few minutes when Kit turned to kiss him.
Grant responded in kind, cupping her cheek carefully and spreading his strong hand on her knee.
“I want you,” he said quietly.
“I know.” She paused, pulling away for a second, then climbed onto his lap and grabbed the back of his head.
Their kisses deepened and grew more frantic. Kit hoped that the driver had sound-proof glass in between them because there was nothing stopping her now. She couldn’t resist him. He was arrogant and brilliant and flawed, and all she wanted to do was press her body as close to his as possible.
Between their kisses, he managed to slip her underwear out from beneath the long ombré skirt of her dress, and she made no complaint. He paused only to pant, “Oh, we have to stop.”
“No,” Kit protested. “Why?”
“No condom. I was trying to be a gentleman and not assume… I should’ve known us better.” He chuckled softly.
“I’m on birth control. Have you been tested?”
“That’s definitely something my mother ingrained in me since before I was fooling around in the back of limos.”
“Good woman.”
Kit unbuckled Grant’s pants, freeing a rapidly expanding erection and causing him to gasp. His hands moved over her ass and gave a squeeze, refamiliarizing themselves with her curves. They explored, groping and feeling her, and eventually pushing the skirt back for better access. She bowed over him, and he kissed along her breasts as though he could sate his hunger with her flesh in lieu of dinner.
“I want to feel you around me,” Grant said, his tone hopeful and needy.
Two fingers teased around the opening between her legs, causing little electric shivers as she let her head fall back. He always could make her body scream with need and joy. She could feel her lips growing thicker and hungrier. They throbbed in want of more, more, more.
Propping herself up by grabbing the back of the seat with one hand, she guided his considerable length toward her. Kit gasped as she eased herself down. He was so thick, sliding into her tightness inch by inch. Her forehead pressed against his, and she moaned.
“You feel so good,” he groaned in reply.
His hands, now fully under her skirt, held her securely as they gripped her thighs. She lifted slightly, pushing against the seat as she began to ride him. Grant rolled his hips in time with hers, and soon they established a vigorous rhythm. He was so big, filling her so completely, and yet her tender flesh was greedy. It wanted more and more of him.
Thrusting and riding, moaning and rocking, they sweated together as they christened the seats with their lovemaking.
Kit came, her orgasm rocketing through her, spreading through every part of her body. Electric and warm and satisfying. When he finished inside her, he pressed his face into her bare shoulder and murmured his praises.
“You are wonderful, Kitten. You are everything.”
Kit’s heart was pounding so hard she felt it shake her, and she caressed his hair, smiling down on him. He reached for a compartment near them and moved to clean them off a bit. As Kit sat back and looked for her und
erwear, she could still feel his hardness inside her. She felt marked and full.
“Well, that was…” she murmured.
Grant buckled up his pants. “That was a great way to break the ice. And work up an appetite, I hope.”
He turned to her and put his arm around her.
It was funny, that way he was looking at her. Not like a silly girl who kept leaping into things with him, but an amazing creature that he wanted to press close to him always.
“I am relaxed now,” Kit admitted. She touched the side of his cheek and gave him a light kiss. “Let me check my makeup and tell me about what you have planned for the evening.”
Grant did as he was asked and leaned into her, his comforting warmth enveloping her. Already, she knew that there would be a repeat in the restaurant’s bathroom, and possibly on the way back. This was how they were. And they were even better at it than they had been before. Kit just hoped that in between, they could kindle something more.
Chapter Seven
Grant
They dined on oysters and grilled Maine lobster, and when they returned to his penthouse, Grant spread her legs wide and dined on her, filling his senses with her taste and scent.
The next morning, he tasted her again, both between her thighs and every inch of her body, and she his. For many mornings after that, they woke having enjoyed each other the night before only to continue their enjoyment before they even left the bed, or in the shower together, or by his kitchen while bacon sizzled in the pan.
He grew to learn her habits, to notice how she slipped out of the bed to wander the house or read or watch television, or how she could eat just as much as he could, or more. He grew used to her body beside his in the bed and at meals, and the sound of her voice. They spent the day sending each other messages, and the evenings exploring the city and making love against every surface that would hold them.
Grant had started this tentatively, having realized how he’d missed her, but now she had become a necessity that could not be cut out of his life. She was determined and independent, but funny and soft and kind, and he wanted her near.
Two weeks after their first date, he brought her into what had been a spare guest room in the penthouse to show her its recent redecoration.
“It’s yours,” he announced.
“Wait… Mine?” Kit looked up at him with that little crease in her brow that he adored so much.
“I know you have trouble sleeping at times. And eventually, I’ll be traveling and might not be here. If you ever need space to yourself—” Grant gestured to a large desk, then the television, then the king-sized bed. “This is yours. Of course, you’re welcome in my bed at all times, but I want you to be comfortable here, Kit.”
She ventured into the room, looking around cautiously, as though the concept were beyond her understanding. “Do you want me to move in?”
He hesitated. “Not unless you want to.”
“It’s a bit soon,” she agreed.
“It’s…a gesture. You’re a part of my life. And not just the way I get my pulse up.”
She looked to him, and he smirked. Kit smiled a little as well and came up to him to encircle his waist with her arms.
“This is very thoughtful. I’d rather sleep with you when I’m over, but…I suppose it would be good to have a place to go when I’m up and don’t want to be.”
“You should go to a doctor about that. I don’t know why you don’t.”
Kit shrugged and leaned her head against him as she looked around the room once again. “They’ll tell me to give up coffee. I tried once, but I don’t like to. It’s hard to break a habit, and even harder when I have cases every day.”
“There are probably other things we could do.” Grant tilted his head to the side. “You sleep all right directly after sex. If you woke me up, I could probably knock you back out.”
“That’s a very thoughtful sentiment, but then you wouldn’t get any sleep.” Kit let him go and went over to the bed to smooth her hand over the bedspread. “You know, we really ought to break this in. Just to make sure that it will work.”
“Oh, you’re right about that.” Grant strolled toward the bed, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.
She sprawled back over the bed, looking at him like a ravenous tiger looks at a fresh steak.
***
“You’re distracted again.”
Grant huffed a sigh and glared up at Tyrese. “Would you rather I be distracted or irritable?”
“Distracted, definitely.”
Tyrese walked beside him as they passed by a slew of coders preparing the latest updates. Each of them sprawled over a series of sofas that had been placed over a neon green rug. Tyrese paused to talk to two of the coders who were working side by side, and Grant wandered over to an oval-shaped window. There was a lot to be done before the new press release and not a lot of time to do it.
Though he had prepared a way for Kit to remain in the penthouse when he traveled, he did not want to be apart from her for two weeks. Especially considering that their relationship had just started, and Kit was so uncertain about his ability to commit to anything. He still got the feeling that she worried about this. She never accused him, but she was hesitant in a way that made him feel like she still wondered about her place in his life moving forward.
It was an uncertain grounding to be sure. Not to mention, Grant was all but addicted to her body.
“How is it going?” Grant asked Tyrese when he returned.
“They’re right on schedule. I think we’ll be able to make the transition to the new site without a hitch.” Tyrese patted Grant on the back. “Are you ready to do your thing in Japan?”
“It won’t be easy. Their job market is much different from ours.”
“It’s worked in other countries. And they asked for us to come.”
“Even so.” Grant bit the inside of his cheek. “Either way, I’ll be out of the office for some time. Just make sure everything keeps up on this end, and don’t do any more interviews until I return.”
Tyrese’s eyes widened as he shook his head. “I don’t know what else we can do to make them happy.”
“Ignore them. Until they take down their more convenient ride sharing and food delivery services, they’re hypocrites and won’t be able to have much effect on us.”
“Do you think they’re right?”
“I don’t have much expertise on human resources outside of talking to the representatives for our office. But in general, users of our app appreciate the work we do and how easy it is for them to find work this way.” Grant turned to look at the coders again. In their bright room with comfortable chairs and plenty of natural light, they seemed perfectly content, though hard at work. He couldn’t control the environments where independent contractors worked. “At best, we could send out another round of surveys to the users, see if there’s anything that isn’t working for them.”
“I’ll work that into our schedule,” Tyrese promised. “And I’ll have the data for you when you get back.”
“That’s a start. Let’s also hire a specialist in industrial and organizational psychology. He or she should be able to help us create the survey and analyze the contractors’ responses with an eye toward positive actions.”
“I have no idea what that kind of specialist is,” Tyrese admitted.
“Before I go, I’ll tell Janis in HR to find someone. The fields are related a little.” Grant turned to walk out of the room. “We have a lot of things up in the air right now, but since I’ll be up there with them for about thirteen hours, maybe things will work out in our favor.”
***
Grant was in the middle of deciding which suits to bring with him to Japan when he heard a familiar, shrill voice growing louder, along with a pair of deadly kitten heels.
“Hello, Mother!” Grant called.
“Grant! You ought to come out here and greet me!” Adele Wharton shouted.
He shook his head and walked out slowly to see
his mother. “You might’ve called to let me know that you were coming.”
“Son, I am neither a young woman nor a woman who enjoys ample leisure time. When I have the time to do something, I do it,” Adele barked.
She opened her arms for a hug, and Grant gave the woman what she wanted. She would get it either way, and he had too much on his mind to play games.
“What brings you by, Mother? Wishing to spend time with your only child?”
“Oy. If only I had that kind of time. No, I saw an article on your little business, and I was concerned. Being an entrepreneur isn’t easy, you know.” She started walking toward the sitting room.
Grant followed. “I know. I’ve been doing it for years now.”
“Don’t get short with me. They say you aren’t paying your employees appropriately, and that practically shouts to the business community that either you cannot pay them or that you refuse.”
“No one says that about restaurants. Waiters are shorted at every turn. And they aren’t employees. They are contractors.”
“I fail to see the difference.” Adele reached the sitting room and headed for her favorite chair.
Grant wanted to point out that she’d been failing to understand what he actually did for a living for quite some time now, and that any new explanation he gave would probably fall on deaf ears, but it would be pointless.
“The government sees a distinction with regards to taxes, so we have to recognize it,” Grant said simply. He moved to sit near her and froze.
There was a pair of frilly blue panties hanging from one of the bookshelves. Christ, when had that gotten there? He sat and turned his head quickly, but not quickly enough. Adele looked, and slowly she fixed her gaze on Grant.
“Is that what I believe it is? Or do I need to have my prescription checked again?” Adele said coldly.
“It is, in a literal sense, what you think.” Grant got up and snatched the panties from the bookcase. He couldn’t believe Malika hadn’t gotten those. “Though they don’t belong to who you think.”
“Oh? They don’t belong to one of your hundreds of trashy women who come through here?” Adele sucked her teeth. “Honestly, Grant. When are you going to grow up? You are too old for this ridiculous behavior. Picking up women half your age, screwing them and then disposing of them. Though garbage they are.”
