But First, Coffee

by Sarah Darlington

  “Just like that, you’ll get one?”

  “Just like that.”

  After a small moment, his voice leveled, and he hardly seemed phased as he spoke now. He didn’t seem angry about whatever had happened between us—just, maybe, indifferent toward it. And I wasn’t sure at the moment which was worse.

  “Alright then.” I felt so freaking nervous. “I guess I should go then, leave you to it.” I turned to open the door to the truck, yanking on the latch that sometimes gets stuck.

  “Glad we had this talk, Lana.” He moved closer to press one soft kiss against my cheek. “And thanks, I was in a shitty mood today. Now I feel infinitely better.”

  I did the only thing I really could do—stood there with my mouth hanging open as he walked away.

  CHAPTER 11

  JOE

  What the hell.

  What the hell.

  What the hell.

  I walked away—quickly. Back to the safety of my house, slamming the door as I went inside, not bothering to check-in with Kitty, hurrying upstairs to my room.

  “Holy shit,” were the first words out of my mouth. I ran both hands through my hair and tried to take a calming breath.

  It didn’t work.

  I was so fucking turned on. So fucking out of my mind. So fucking fucked!

  I went to my window, peeking through the blinds, checking to see if Lana had left my street by now.

  No, of course her truck was still there.

  “Jesus, woman, leave.”

  The reason I was freaking out had less to do with Doug—since it was Sunday, and I wasn’t wearing the wire—and more to do with me and my issues surrounding sex.

  The thing was . . . I’d never had sober sex. I started abusing prescription drugs and alcohol around fourteen. And I didn’t stop until I turned twenty-two, just over two years ago. During that time, I had lots and lots of sex. There were times I was so messed up that I’d have multiple partners in one night. I’d wake up naked in some strange place, with a couple of women in bed with me, remembering absolutely nothing from the night before. Initially, if I found two or three beautiful women beside me, I figured—hey, no big deal. But the situations became more and more reckless, more and more terrifying.

  It all came to head when I woke up one morning to a woman I didn’t know, twice my age, on top of me, getting off while riding my dick. I’d been sleeping, and she’d been fucking me. She didn’t even stop when I woke up, she kept going, riding my dick raw, no condom, screaming out a name that wasn’t my name.

  I was so freaked out I couldn’t move. I let her finish. I let her roll off me. I let her walk out of that room, winking at me as she went, as if she’d done me the favor.

  But it hadn’t been a favor.

  It had been rape.

  I knew it then. And I still knew it today.

  And I still wasn’t over it.

  I stopped the drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, and sex all in one day. I dropped out of school—to my parents’ complete disapproval—and I moved to the opposite side of the country. I was already struggling to be the son they wanted. I already knew once law school ended, I wouldn’t become a lawyer. I’d wanted to finish school because I hated quitting things, but I knew I had to put myself first.

  I made the move.

  I changed my life.

  I still had a few pieces that needed picking up. I knew it would take time before I was ready to have sex again, in any capacity, and that was why I was startled by this thing that just happened with Lana.

  I’d kissed her when I hadn’t kissed any one since that night. I’d touched her when I hadn’t touched anyone since. I’d made her come for me, when I’d thought for certain I’d never want to see another woman come in my life. And not once during my time with Lana had I thought about the woman who’d raped me.

  What did that mean?

  I stared at Lana’s truck. She still hadn’t left. It meant she was thinking about what had happened between us. Maybe she was a little bit older than me, but there was an innocence about her that I liked. I’d touched her, and she stared at me like no one had ever touched her like that before. Maybe no one had. Or if they had, not in the way she needed.

  Also, it was different touching a woman sober—so much better. I’d gotten her off. I’d felt her tremble, I’d seen the ecstasy on her face, I’d felt the walls of her pussy squeeze my fingers, and I kind of loved every minute of it.

  Lana might just be my saving grace. It was too bad I could never be hers.

  Her truck finally left.

  And I left the window with mixed feelings.

  After that, I did what I’d told her I would. I bought a car.

  I went into our second bedroom. Kitty had to sleep on the couch because I still had so much shit—expensive shit—from my old life. Filled to the brim, the things in this room were all the things I’d taken with me, that I had this strange attachment to, that I couldn’t quite find it in me to get rid of yet. I looked around the room, trying to decide what I’d pawn today. Whenever I needed money, this was my cash stash. I pulled open the drawer to a hand-carved, eighteenth-century, dresser that had been mine from college. Yes, I took that beast of a piece of furniture with me to college. From the drawer, I took out a pair of cuff-links. They were easily worth a few grand, enough to get me the car I needed. Without a second thought, I pocketed them and then headed for the nearest pawn shop.

  ***

  The days of the week ticked by. Lana, or someone from her HR department, set me up with a hotel suite only a couple of blocks from the future Java Beans location. It would be my home Monday through Friday, then it was back to Portland on the weekends. I brought Kitty with me this first week. She hung out at the pool the entire week, not drinking, so I considered it a win.

  Abe was easy to work with. Genuine. Funny. Down to earth. He wasn’t very forthcoming about information on Lana, though. Doug had been harassing me all week to hound him about Lana, thinking he might offer up some better information than what we were getting out of the microphones in her office.

  I wondered how long Doug would make me be his spy before he gave up on Lana and his dream of destroying her.

  Because, really, from what I was seeing, we weren’t going to find any dirt on her worthy of what Doug had put into this. She seemed like a normal, law-abiding citizen to me, and as an ‘almost lawyer,’ I think I’d know.

  “I’ll take the metro home when I’m finished,” I told Kitty as I climbed out of the car, into the rain, standing on the street outside of Lana’s office building. “You can have the car tonight. Just don’t drink and drive.”

  She gave me an Oscar-worthy eye roll. “I’m not that stupid.”

  “Just be safe.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I knew, no matter what, I’d be up half the night worried about her. Sometimes I felt more like her parent than her brother—and I was only two years older than her. I slammed the passenger side door, and Kitty merged back into standstill traffic.

  Per Lana’s request, I was due for a meeting with her in about ten minutes.

  She’d been corresponding with me all week through Nancy. I’d yet to actually talk to her since our kiss, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. But one thing was for certain, under no circumstances could I even so much as hint that something more than professional had happened between us, because I had my microphone on and Doug was listening on the other end.

  The man had nothing better to do than to listen.

  I rode the elevator up to Java Beans’ floor, picking at my fingernails the whole way, feeling a little like a death row inmate walking toward the electric chair.

  Not that seeing Lana again was like getting the electric chair, quite the contrary, I just had this overwhelming feeling she’d want to discuss what had happened. Knowing I had to find a way to avoid it was gnawing at me.

  I stepped off the elevator and made the now familiar walk in the direct
ion of Lana’s office. On the way, I said hello to several people who were quickly becoming acquaintances. I stopped at Nancy’s desk.

  Nancy loved to flirt.

  I really couldn’t have cared less about having a conversation with Nancy right this moment, but Doug was listening, and I wanted him to hear me flirt with her.

  “Hi, Nancy.” I gave her a big smile—the exact one that Kitty had commented about—the fake one, the one I put on when I was bored and trying not to die from it. “You look nice today,” I told her.

  She smiled her red lips widely in return. “Oh. Hi, Joe. I forgot you’d be coming in today.”

  No, she hadn’t. She’d arranged the meeting. It was also likely she’d ran to the bathroom minutes ago to reapply that bright red lipstick she wore in anticipation of my arrival. I knew exactly the effect I had on women like Nancy. She’d probably been doodling my name and hearts inside a notebook all day long, or at least she wanted too. I was attractive, after all. I’m not conceited, just stating the facts.

  “Lana’s in the middle of a phone call. I don’t want to interrupt her.”

  “Then don’t.” I winked at her. It was probably wrong to lead her on like this when I didn’t want it to go anywhere, but I did it for a reason. “Seriously, you look really nice today. Is something different?”

  She looked down at herself coyly and shrugged. “Same old me.”

  “Then the same old you looks really nice today.”

  This back and forth thing went on for a few minutes until I couldn’t take anymore. Call it intuition, but I knew Lana’s “phone call” had been a lie from the start. Nancy was only trying to prolong our conversation.

  “Is she still on the phone?” I asked, switching off my smile. “I’m ready to get this meeting going and over with.”

  Nancy nodded with a small flash of disappointment on her face. “Let me check.” She checked her computer. “Nope. She’s finished.” Then she pressed the intercom button on the phone. “Joe Coffee’s here.”

  “Send him in,” came Lana’s voice in response.

  Not wasting anymore time, I left Nancy and pushed through the doors into Lana’s office. I softly closed them behind me, suddenly eager to find out how Lana would handle seeing me again.

  “Hi, Lana,” I said politely as I turned around. “How’s your week been?”

  “Fine. Come have a seat.” She stood from her desk, walking around it, moving toward the small table and chairs she had on the other side of the room. If she was still thinking about our kiss from last Sunday, she didn’t show it.

  I wanted to be thankful she seemed to be ignoring what I feared would be an elephant in the room. But, damn, I think part of me didn’t want her to ignore it. I wanted to talk about it. No, I realized, I wanted to repeat it.

  It didn’t help that she looked especially beautiful today. She was always immaculately put together, and today was no exception, but I guess I just noticed it more today. A beauty mark under her right eye. How could I have not noticed that before? It stood out. Had it been covered by makeup? There was also something different about her hair. Thanks to Kitty, I knew she straightened it. But today, maybe due to the rain outside, it had a slight wave to it.

  I sat down across from her. She immediately started talking business, wanting an update on my progress with Abe. I robotically answered, choosing my words carefully, knowing Doug was hearing this. Until suddenly I realized she hadn’t fully made eye contact with me. That was it. Enough of this bullshit meeting we could have easily done over the phone.

  I grabbed a stack of Post-it notes she had sitting on the table and grabbed a pen. I continued talking about everything Abe had showed me this week.

  But on the Post-it, I wrote: Hi

  I handed it over. She read it then immediately looked at me. There—eye contact. I leaned over to grab the Post-it stack back from her. I peeled away my first note, crumpling it, tossing it aside.

  On the second note I wrote: You look nice today.

  I’d said literally the exact same words to Nancy. The difference was that I meant them with Lana.

  The smallest hint of pink spread across her cheeks as she read note number two. That was enough of a confirmation to know that the real purpose of this meeting had been to get me back in the same room as her. So, with that, I took the Post-it stack back for a third time.

  And wrote: Don’t make a sound.

  I handed it over before I stood up, took swift strides across the room, and locked the door to her office as carefully as possible. I didn’t want Nancy to hear the sound of the lock turning from the other side. And I especially didn’t want to risk being interrupted. Then I came back to her. She hadn’t moved from her seat.

  I stood there, only inches away, internally debating with myself.

  Should I? Shouldn’t I?

  Was it so wrong to want to kiss her again?

  She stared up at me, waiting, completely at my mercy. That innocence thing she had—it was shining bright, shining through her eyes.

  I couldn’t help myself. The pull toward her was too strong. I bent over, cupped her face, and kissed her slowly, quietly.

  There was something calming about kissing Lana. The rest of the world, my issues, and anything else that mattered, faded out of existence. Focusing was easy because the only thing important was the softness of her lips and her sweet smell as I inhaled deeply.

  The calm only lasted a moment before the rush hit me. I had to have her. Now. My cock swelled with desire, adrenaline burned in my veins, and I hardly cared that I was toeing a very dangerous line. I deepened the kiss, tasting her, moving my hands to her hair. Lana made a small moan. It was enough of a noise to stop me dead still. Doug would have me for breakfast if he knew I was fucking around rather than doing my job.

  I broke the kiss and grabbed the Post-it stack once more.

  Do I have your permission? I wrote.

  An open-ended question for whatever. Then I waited. She was slow to respond, making a nervousness like I’d never known start to bubble inside me. Had I pushed her too fast? Pushed for too much?

  But ultimately, she took the pencil and under my words wrote: Yes

  I peeled that note away, dropped it on the floor beside me, and took the pencil back from her once more. I wrote another note. No sounds. Make any noise, and I’ll have to stop. I’m serious.

  She read it and this small, playful smile hit her lips. Maybe she thought I liked to play games and being quiet was part of today’s game. Hell, I kept starting things in public places. Not really on purpose, either. It just so happened that the desire to kiss her kept hitting me in public places. But this wasn’t a game to me. This was me trying to fix something broken inside. This was me trying to find out if she was the key.

  CHAPTER 12

  LANA

  Oh God, yes! Joe had his hands on my thighs, tracing gently upward, making all these little tingles shoot across my skin in his path. I caught my breath, laying back on the table, running my hands through my hair as his hands reached the lace material of my panties. Anticipating seeing him again, not knowing what to expect, I’d made a better underwear choice this morning. I’d also gone full Brazilian at the salon this week, and I wondered if he would notice that?

  But even if I’d hoped for this, it was still overwhelming that it was actually happening again. Like my own personal fantasy come to life.

  I mean, I was so far out of Joe’s league it wasn’t even funny—miles and miles out of his league. But I didn’t question it. Because it felt way too damn good to question right now.

  He touched me over my underwear, over where I was already achy and needy, and feeling desperate for him. He pushed the material aside and ran his thumb over my slick flesh, and it felt so damn good. I breathed in deeply, careful not to make another noise. Every time I did, he’d stop and write me another Post-it note. Then he’d say something stupid and sarcastic like, “Wow, these are interesting photos of one of your Java Beans locations. Can you sh
ow me more?”

  What the hell?

  Did he think Nancy had supersonic hearing? Did he care that much about what she thought? She was probably on Facebook right now, without a care in the world.

  My thoughts about Nancy vanished when Joe removed my underwear, slipping them down my legs, tossing them aside. My skirt was form fitting, and he worked at inching it up my thighs, up my hips, until it was bunched at my waist.

  My heart was racing.

  No dim lighting. No covers. No alcohol to take my fear down a few notches.

  Only full exposure.

  I felt like I’d been stripped barebone and raw for him, lying out on this table.

  Especially when he started to plant soft kisses up one of my legs, all with the wickedest smile on his lips. He hadn’t been smiley last time. I grabbed the Post-it stack and pencil. At this rate I’d be out of Post-it notes by the end of this.

  I wrote: Why are you smiling?

  Joe paused to write back: You shaved. For me.

  Oh hell no. I was not about to let him think that. I went to the salon on a regular basis. It just so happened that my appointment had been this week. I tried to grab the stack of notes back from him, to tell him that this wasn’t for him specifically, but he wouldn’t let me have them, setting them out of my reach.

  With an even bigger smile, he returned to teasing my inner thigh with kisses. I squirmed in overwhelming anticipation until he planted one kiss directly on my sex. My mouth dropped open. He planted another and then another, torturing me with this sweet thing he was doing. When he finally did more, when he finally dragged his tongue over my clit, I nearly exploded right there on the spot.

  But I didn’t—I was too nervous to fully relax. I was half-naked and exposed and wondering why this was quickly becoming one-sided yet again.

  I pulled at his hair so he’d stop, and he did immediately, staring up at me. I felt something intense and unspoken in the way his blue eyes looked at me. A small glimpse of a sadness so honest and real that it tore me in half. I didn’t want this to stop. I just wanted him to join me. Why wasn’t he joining me?