And while I learned a lot about this mysterious man during this trip, I feel somehow disappointed. Why? I reckon I was hoping for more. Don't get me wrong- this wasn't some kind of romantic getaway for the two of us and I made no illusions about it either. But I wished to get him know better on a more personal level too. Instead, I saw only his professional face.
I don’t know why I hoped things would have been different, that these few precious days would have been special. I guess I wanted to meet the real, casual Deacon not his businessman persona. But that would have meant he’s interested in me, something that sounds impossible as it is improbable.
Even during those rare moments between the meetings, he spent most of the time talking with the clients and only some precious minutes talking to me mainly about the next things on the agenda. And while he always smiled at me and asked how I coped with it all...well, I don't know. Sometimes it is so confusing trying to read his signals. In case there are any, of course. Perhaps I should try harder to remind myself that this trip is purely business (at least to him).
Even so, in those precious minutes between the meetings, Deacon made me feel important, not helpless, he made me feel smart not an idiot. By being there for me, he made sure he showcased my feminine side not suppressed it. I don't know how he managed to do that, but I guess I'll never know. It's a Deacon thing.
The next morning meeting was a success. Deacon managed to make one of the most profitable deals that the company has ever done, and I admit it myself, he did it single-handedly. I was just there to pass him the right papers at the right time and order. I mean, there was no time for me to work on this project to get better acquainted with it, so there were parts that Deacon had to improvise until I did what he asked me to, but overall, working with him was a great experience.
Until the minute it ended.
We spent a great deal of our morning in that meeting and a great deal of the rest of our day talking to the executive members of the company. What started as a dream was quickly becoming a nightmare. I don't know why I thought otherwise, but we were running out of time and we didn't spend even a minute alone.
Deacon shakes the hand of all the people that attended the meeting for the hundredth time and after there was nothing else to share with them, he turns and looks me in the eye. I'm not sure what he's thinking, but I guess I spot a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. It's like he's surprised that I'm still here.
I don’t have the strength to smile anymore. I need to get as far away from him as possible. I feel overdosed with Deacon’s presence and I need some time to clean my system of his influence.
He walks towards me; he doesn't smile this time either.
When he gets closer, he stops. "I...well...I'm not sure how you feel...but...but I'm famished. Would you join me for an early dinner?"
The man who didn't stutter in front of senior members of the business industry nor shuffled his words after two days of talking constantly, just stuttered to me? Is something wrong? Did something bad happen?
"Yes, of course. I think I can handle a dinner," I say but stop before filling out the rest of the sentence with something that I would have regretted.
I think I can handle a dinner, especially if it's with you.
"Great. I know a place nearby that I always wanted to try. Do you like Chinese food?" he asks me.
After I nod, I feel revitalized. He asked me out for a dinner. He isn't surprised that I'm here. That was just my insecurities kicking in. But...but what if this is a sympathy dinner? He might want to take me out for being a good sport and following him on a business trip that I wasn't prepared to make.
God, I'm so confused I barely participate in the idle chit chat we make all the way to the Chinese restaurant down the road. I'm doing my best to answer his questions, but it feels like most of the time I'm absent. I'm lost in my own Odyssey of doubts. He wants me or wants me not?
That goes on until we arrive at the restaurant. He makes me walk inside first and then his elaborate plan suddenly reveals in front of me.
The place is full of turned tables and lit candles. Even though it's relatively early in the afternoon, the atmosphere inside the room is that of late in the night. There's only one waiter standing at the entrance.
“Welcome, Ms. Chloe. We’ve been expecting you,” the man says and smiles at me.
Confused, and a tiny bit scared, I turn and search for Deacon's comforting eyes. I find them behind me, lined from the wide smile he shares with me.
“I meant to yell surprise, but I guess it would be inappropriate. That doesn’t mean I can’t congratulate you for three exceptional months working for me.”
And then it hits me; today is the three-month anniversary of the day I started working for Deacon.
Chapter 5
Eating in an empty restaurant with the man of your dreams sitting opposite you is a priceless feeling that doesn't come often in my life. I guess, it's something between surprise and stress. There's an unbearable weight on my chest that makes it hard to breathe and my stomach is tied in a knot.
I don't talk much but instead, listen. I see nothing else but his eyes. It's a feeling close to being sick with a fever but instead of being agonizing, it's pleasant and warm.
Deacon pours wine in my glass and then in his. After that, he places the bottle on the table and raises his glass in the air: "To many months of successful collaboration to come."
I'm not sure why, but I had enough of budding work relationships for this weekend. Did he organize a whole dinner to surprise me for my three-month anniversary? Me? Why me? Would he do the same thing to Linda? Would he do the same thing to everyone? Why his smile feels fake? Pressed?
I can't go on like this anymore. Like he did last time, I dig up a quote that I thought befits our relationship perfectly.
“‘To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.’”
His smile fades. "What did you just say?"
Maybe if he didn't take me out to this dinner or if he didn't remember my work anniversary when I have forgotten it myself, I wouldn't have said it to him. But it was that feeling of relentless passion that drove me; that and the second glass of expensive red wine.
There was no turning back now. “It’s Gabriel Garcia Lorca. It talks about unrequited love,” I say.
"I know the quote. But why this particular one?"
“Because I’m done punishing myself for something I can’t have,” I say and clink our glasses to a silent echo.
We stare into each other’s eyes for a long minute, long enough for the waiter to tactfully break our silence.
“Are you ready to order?” he asks us.
But we don’t reply to him.
“Why do you think you’re punishing yourself?” he asks me at last.
It's difficult to answer to him when there's a stranger waiting for an order over my head, but if Deacon isn't afraid of my answer then neither am I.
“Isn't it obvious? Unless I mean him,” I say and point at the waiter, “then it means there’s someone else in this restaurant that I have fallen for.”
"I think I'll return in a moment," the waiter says but I stop him.
“No, please stay. The sleek Deacon Stamford probably has to say something to you.”
I'm mad. Mad at the man who gave me this job, mad at the man who seduced me with his manners, mad at the man who fucking remembered the date he hired me. I don't want to be angry with him, but this is the only feeling I have left to spare.
The waiter moves to a go, but Deacon stops him. "Bring us a second bottle of wine. We'll need another moment," he says.
I smile in a sarcastic manner without meaning to. Deacon sees me. "I don't understand where this animosity comes from. What's gotten into you?"
“Why did you choose me to come with you? You have three PAs and countless other employees at your disposal. Why me? Is it entertaining to have someone worship you like a little dog?”
A
gain, he acts surprised. God, is this his true self behind the mask of the shining knight?
“Chloe, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. If you don’t explain it to me then I don’t know how I can help you.”
“You’re confusing, Deacon Stamford. Confusing, infuriating, and achingly handsome. I’m tired of trying to understand if you want me or not. You spend a good deal of your time looking at me in secret and when I confront you in the open, you act like you don’t understand a thing. What is it then? Yes or no? Love or professionalism? Do I stay or do I go?”
Like before, the waiter arrives to interrupt our crosstalk. Only this time, Deacon says nothing.
“Here is your second bottle, sir. Please call me whenever you’re ready,” he says and places the bottle next to me.
Deacon has lowered his head and stares at his plate. He doesn't say anything. Nothing. He just doesn't talk. There's something bothering him, but he doesn't know how to express it. But that's as far as I can go.
“You won’t need to. Mr. Stamford will eat alone tonight. Excuse me,” I say and push my chair away from the table.
However, Chloe might have gone for a graceful exit, but Busty Muddy had other plans. The moment I rise on my feet, my hand passes next to the new bottle of wine. Every other ordinary person would have avoided starting a chain reaction of disastrous effects on the table, but I'm not ordinary when it comes down to clumsiness.
The bottle, together with our glasses, ends up broken at my feet in seconds. In a burst of guilt, I fall on my knees and start gathering the broken glass. Right then, I see a figure kneeling next to me.
“Please, Chloe. Don’t. You’ll get hurt,” he says and grabs my hand exactly like that time.
Only this time, he doesn’t let go.
***
We arrive at his room. We don't talk much; we don't need to. Our kisses are moist and deep, full of moans and sighs. If you ask me, I have no idea how we ended up like that. The only thing I know is that I love it. His hands have a refreshing coolness when they touch the inside of my shirt. I want him to keep his hands in there forever but we're still outside of his room.
Deacon unlocks the door messily. He doesn’t want to let go of me; I don’t want him to let go of me.
When we finally get inside, we break loose at once. Deacon unbuttons his shirt slowly and seductively. Underneath the thin fabric lies the body of a Greek god. His abs are square and his muscles are all perfectly shaped. There are models that don’t have as gorgeous body as Deacon.
He reaches for my shirt but I suddenly stop him.
“What?” he asks me amidst his delirium.
"I don't feel comfortable getting naked in front of you," I confess.
He smiles and kisses me gently on my neck, and then slowly whispers in my ear while unbuttoning my shirt. "I've had enough of skinny girls in my life that care more about their appearance than what's inside their head. You are much better than them, Chloe. You are real, fresh and exciting."
That gives me the strength I need to succumb to his hands. The hallway behind the door is covered with a thick carpet. When we lie, the floor is hard but the carpet makes the sensation ideal. There's no time for the bed; we have to touch each other fast and passionately.
Before I know it, we’re in our underwear, kissing and hugging. He aligns his body above mine and starts rubbing his hardening dick on my pussy.
“I see you’re talented in every single aspect,” I say lasciviously.
He snorts but doesn't stop kissing me. I’m feeling totally aroused by his rhythmical movements. If only such teasing can make me so horny, what can I expect at the later stages? The thought of it gets me even more excited.
The rubbing gets harder, faster, until Deacon is turned on as well and ready to slip inside me. But before that, I have something special for him too.
With the help of the narrow hallway and a spur of creativity, I push Deacon off me and make him sit on his ass.
“Did I do anything wrong?” he says cautiously.
I shake my head slowly and lean closer to him. I touch his pumping dick over his tight, black boxers. I lick his chest all the way down to his belly and then I lower his underwear to reveal that big, throbbing cock right at my face.
Deacon tries to stop me from doing something I might not want to, but the pleasure I get from knowing that my mouth is the reason his whole body trembles from excitement is more than rewarding.
I lick the top of his dick and then let my lips move down his shaft until I reach his balls. I do the same thing over and over again, listening to Deacon’s husky groans while indulging in his precum until he stops me.
“I want to get inside you,” he whispers.
He gets up hurriedly and fishes for a condom in his bag. I'm laying naked enjoying the view of that perfect ass moving around me and waiting for my lover to finally invade my body. There's no need for a lube, even though Deacon asked me. The idea of having sex with him is already enough to make me dripping wet. Even so, his first entry stings and I have to stop him from going all in.
However, after two slow thrusts, Deacon picks up his pace. My legs are crossed behind his back and I push him deeper inside. He likes to kiss my neck every time his face gets close to me and I love to cup his buttocks with my hands.
I haven't felt like that in a very long time. He knows what to do to get the best of me and he continues doing so until the sensation becomes unbearable and I feel all that pleasure erupt inside me. But Deacon doesn’t stop there and I can no longer hold myself. However, I am not the only one on the verge of climax.
“If I don’t stop now, I’ll cum,” he moans in my ear.
Then, without waiting for him to continue, I make him turn and lie on the ground and ride his cock. He doesn’t complain; on the contrary, his smirk is deep and cocky. He likes knowing that he’s fucking me good.
I take my position on his dick and spread my arms to touch the walls of the hallway. I start riding on his cock up and down, inside and out of my vagina. Deacon's expression is lit with feelings of amazement and restraint. He's using all his power to not cum immediately.
But it doesn't matter to me. I ride him fast in purpose, to make him scream my name when coming, to make him burst inside me. I move my hips up and down until I can't hold back anymore.
I scream in the sweetest orgasm.
A warm explosion of bright colors happens behind my eyes, a feeling of content spreads throughout my body. When it's finally over, I rest my hands on his chest and look at him. He is still heavily panting.
"I don't know....what to...say," he mutters.
I lie next to him and laugh. "Stop. I'm embarrassed."
"Well, you shouldn't. This was the best sex I've had in a long time. I don't know what you did, but please, do it again. Now," he says.
I continue to laugh. "Are you sure you can handle two times in a row?" I dare him.
“Do we even need to talk about it?”
But, before we get it going again, I stop him. “One second. I have to tell you something.” He pauses and braces himself to listen to me. I cover my naked chest with my shirt and start talking to him. “I’m sorry for what happened earlier. I don’t know what gotten into me.”
"Don't apologize. I was a douche bag. I kept sending you all those signals, getting you confused. There's a really good explanation behind this. I promise you. But this is not the time to talk. The night is still young. I want to get the most out of it."
Chapter 6
Four months ago there was nothing, not one thing that could prepare me for my relationship with Deacon. I mean, there are books and movies talking about these things but there's also a thin line that separates reality from imagination. Deacon made sure we both crossed that line after our steamy night in the hotel.
The next day, and for every day since, Deacon and I see each other...a lot. We meet before work, after work, during lunch (sometimes twice), during our days off and whenever there’s enough time. We ca
n’t get enough of each other’s body, and to be honest, is there anything not to like about the statuesque build of a billionaire playboy like Deacon?
I guess not.
Nevertheless, it has been a month since we started dating and for the first time, Deacon wants us to go together to some charity event. He wants to make our relationship public to the rest of the world.
His proposal took me by surprise. I don't know what changed during this last month, but I think I'd like going steady with him. Okay, who am I kidding? I think it's perfect that he wants to make things between us official. That doesn't mean that I don't feel anxious about everything that is going to change between us and in the office.
Big Bad Billionaires [Volume 2] Page 16
