“Keep doing that,” he begs. I smile at the sound of his raspy voice.
“This?” I ask, grinning mischievously.
“Yes,” he cries out.
“Please, don’t stop,” I whisper.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says, slamming into me.
A frenzy feeling of elation buildings inside me as he bends my knees against his chest. I can feel him throbbing inside me. He’s just as close as me. I yelp as Nicholas slaps against me harder and harder.
“Come for me, Becca.” His words send me in a spiral as I combust underneath him, melting into the cushions of the couch. Fuck. He lets one last groan out before he shudders in gratification. I gasp as he moves inside me softly. I can feel my wetness trickling down between us. He pauses to grab a napkin from a nearby tray and then dabs at my inner thigh. He grins, obviously pleased with himself. I bite my lip as he leans in and kisses below my navel. I squirm at the feeling of his lips so close.
“That was….” I begin to say.
“Fucking amazing,” he finishes. I laugh at his bluntness. Nicholas rolls off the condom and tosses it in a nearby trashcan. For a moment, I’m afraid he might tell me to go. He got what he wanted. Instead he leans in and kisses me tenderly. The kiss reminds me of the one we shared on the airplane. My heart squeezes at the memory.
As we scan the mess around us, the sound of his office phone ringing brings me back to reality. I sit up, gathering myself together as he grabs the phone from his desk. I don’t waste time pulling back on my skirt and my blouse. I should probably go home. I need some time to process everything that has just happened. Nicholas answers the ringing office phone with ease and confidence. The passion that burned in his eyes moments earlier is now replaced with a cool gaze.
“Yes, Mary?” Nicholas swallows nervously as he listens to Mary. He turns to me and I can see panic setting in. What?
“Could you ask them to wait for me in the conference room?” he says into the receiver. Mary says something, but I can’t hear any of it.
“Shit!” Nicholas exclaims, slamming the phone down. He throws on a white V-neck, slips on his dress pants, and smoothens down the hair that only moments ago I was pulling.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“My father and Alison are on their way up here,” he confesses. “We need to hide you.”
Before I can argue, Nicholas pushes me under his desk. What. The. Hell. How nice, I guess I’m just getting the grand tour today. Lovely.
He races over to the flipped over office chair and repositions it. In a few seconds, he clears the room from any telltale signs that he had just fucked another woman in his office. I hear him walk over to the elevator just in time to greet Alison and his father, Stefan, at the entryway.
Fuck. This is not good.
“Hello, father…” I greet him and Alison at the entrance of the elevator, hoping to usher them downstairs.
“Nicholas, I didn’t see you at the board meeting this morning.” The disappointment in my father’s voice is palpable. I clench my teeth as he studies the room around him. God, I hope he can’t see Rebecca.
“I’m sorry, I got caught up in paperwork,” I explain. “Why don’t we –”
Alison’s voice cuts through my words. “Nick, I was just speaking with your father about our plans for our wedding ceremony.”
“I see, well that’s wonderful,” I lie. Father briefly gives me a look of annoyance. He knows I’m lying through my teeth. I need to get them out of my office.
“I found the perfect venue. I wish you would’ve been there to see it,” she whines.
“Nick, I’ll leave you two alone. I have business to attend to,” he says. “Ms. Price, it was lovely seeing you.” My father kisses her on the cheek before he turns to leave.
The room goes quiet for a moment as he makes his exit. Alison slowly makes her way over to the couch where only moments ago I was with Rebecca. She takes a seat and leans back, opening her legs slightly. I know it’s intentional. She’s been trying to have sex with me for the past month.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been very involved with the wedding planning,” I admit.
She crosses her arms, obviously not impressed with my apology. “You told me last week that you would start helping me plan this.”
“I will. I’ve just been really busy with other things.”
“Does this have anything to do with that assistant of yours?”
Fuck. Where is this coming from?
“It has nothing to do with Rebecca.”
“I don’t think she fits in here very well,” she says.
“She’s a great assistant,” I say, deflecting Alison’s rude comment.
“Are you serious? Just last week you were complaining that she was the most aggravating employee your father has ever hired.”
“She was, I mean she is,” I say, flustered.
“Well, which is it?” Alison demands.
“I don’t want to argue about this. She means nothing to me.” The words are out of my mouth before I’ve had a chance to think about them. I cringe at what Rebecca must be thinking.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Alison purrs. “I’ve just missed you. I was looking forward to some alone time. I was worried when she brought you home the night of the charity event.”
“Nothing happened. And we’ll reschedule,” I promise her.
“Nicholas, I want you.” From the corner of my eye I see Rebecca watching me. I know she’s angry. Furious even. But it’s the hurt in her eyes that kills me. She never takes her eyes off me – as if silently wishing for my demise. I push Alison’s hand off as I clear my throat for emphasis.
“Alison, not now.”
“Why not? I’ll let you tie me up,” she says, unzipping my pants.
“I have to get back downstairs.” I swat her hand away and usher her over to the elevator.
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Because I have business to take care of. Alison, let’s talk about this later,” I say.
“Come by later?” It almost sounds like a question, but I know it’s a demand.
“I’ll try,” I whisper.
A moment later she leaves and I wait for the elevator to descend before rushing over to Rebecca. I turn to find myself staring straight into two fierce green eyes.
“Where are you going?” My voice sounds more needy than I want it to sound.
“I’m getting the hell away from you.”
She’s almost to the elevator when I grab her and pull her to me.
“Let me go, Nicholas.”
“I can’t,” I say, pushing her against the elevator door. “We need to talk.”
“I think it’s better we don’t.”
Her hips push up against me, my desire pulsing between us, a sinful reminder of the pleasure I gave her only moments ago. I want to bury myself inside her again. Wrap my fingers in her locks of hair, and gaze at her beautiful skin. I fight back the desire to touch her. I want her to stay.
“So what, we just pretend like nothing happened?” I ask, frustrated.
“Yes.”
“And what if I don’t want to?” I ask stubbornly. She shivers beneath my grasp. “You can’t deny me.” I push back a strand from her face and lean in to kiss her. She pushes me away and hits the elevator button.
“I can,” she says.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“No. I’m fixing one.” Rebecca walks past me as the doors ping open. The last thing I see before the doors close again is her beautiful red hair slightly disheveled from where I had run my fingers through it.
She means nothing to me. Those five little words play on repeat as I stare at the blank computer screen in front of me. I can’t get them out of my head. I got myself into a really big mess. I swivel my chair and scan at the office around me. I notice a couple of employees staring my way. I’m starting to feel paranoid like everyone knows. Everyone keeps staring at me like if I’ve grown wings, which is fitt
ing because at that moment, all I want to do is fly away. I’m probably just imagining it.
A few hours later, I find myself staring at Nicholas’s personal calendar. I haven’t heard from him, and it didn’t cross my mind until now to see if he’s in a meeting. Unfortunately, when I pull up the rest of this week, all I see is one name filling up each day: Alison.
What. An. Asshole. I’m so dumb. I wish I could ugly cry right now, but I can’t. Fuck that. I won’t. I scroll through the next month of January on his calendar and spot a week blocked out from the 31st of January until the 7th of February. In the details it says vacation. I almost forgot that he would be gone. He’s probably taking her with him.
I tried to confirm the date with the event coordinator a week ago, but she’s been on vacation. I should probably try calling her again. I was able to send the check over to the event department at the Natural History Museum for the venue so at least there’s that. I dial the number Nicholas gave me for the event coordinator, and to my surprise, she actually answers.
“Oh yes, I’ve been expecting a call from you.” The voice on the other line sounds way too cheerful for such a shitty morning. “So you wanted to confirm for the 31st correct?”
“Yes, no, wait…” I stare at Nicholas’s calendar for a good two minutes. His vacation falls right after the Gala. But what if it didn’t? This is how I get my payback.
“Yes, we want to confirm for the 31st of January.”
Three days later…
After spending three days cake testing with Alison, I don’t ever want to touch one again. My palate is numb to sugar and I’m pretty sure I have five cavities. That or I’m surely a diabetic now. I have no idea why Alison needed to try so many cakes, but I put up with her just so she wouldn’t be suspicious of something going on between Rebecca and me. I still feel like an ass for saying she didn’t mean anything to me, but if I had said otherwise, Alison would’ve known something was going on. Ever since Rebecca dropped me off the night of the charity event, she’s gotten it in her head that I’m hiding something – and now she’s right.
The hardest part about the past three days was trying to avoid sex. I mean, those two words even being in the same sentence is insanity, but that’s what I did for three days. I avoided sex with Alison. The first day I told her I had masturbated way too much during the day and my cock was just fucking tired. It was a half-truth. I did masturbate a lot that day, but my cock wasn’t tired. No, it was ready and willing, but the problem is the only pussy it wanted to fuck was Rebecca’s. God, it was hard not to think about her at night.
On day two, I drank way too much. Although I was rock hard in my pants, I told Alison my dick was limp, and fortunately, she bought it. Part of me wanted to be a little offended that she thought a bottle a wine would stop me, but I realized after a while that I was being stupid and my pride was getting in the way. I should’ve been thankful that she believed it, and didn’t test her luck.
The third night was the worst. I couldn’t use the I-masturbated-way-too-much excuse or the limp dick excuse, so I pulled one out of my ass. I told Alison I had the worst case of diarrhea. The look she gave me was sheer repulsion. I know she’s not the type of woman who even goes to the bathroom around me. That night she booked a separate room. I think she was afraid she would have to deal with the constant smell of shit. I was beyond thankful. Having to stay up pretending to have really bad diarrhea would’ve been a test for me.
It’s good to finally be home. I pour myself a cup of coffee and grab my copy of the New York Times. I usually read my news online, but there’s something nice about reading an actual paper once in a while. It’s the same with books, except I think I prefer the paperbacks to reading it on an e-reader. It takes me a moment to realize that there’s an article for the annual Gala is in the paper.
“Finally, the publicity department gets something right.”
The words die in my throat as I read over the date of the annual Gala. January 31st. What the fuck? I grab my tablet from my briefcase and scroll through my calendar. I specifically told Gellar the 30th. The publicity department didn’t even know about the old date. I pull up the week Emily and I are supposed to be gone and my vacation entry isn’t there. It was, but now it’s not. I scroll through the recent changes, and lo and behold, the most recent change is a deletion. Under “user” it shows her name: Gellar.
Son of a bitch. I scroll through my phone to the e-mail notification that pops up at the top. My jaw drops at the realization that it’s from him. Nicholas StoneHaven. For the past three days, I’ve been blissfully, irrevocably ignorant of his whereabouts. No, that’s a lie. I knew he was with her. I just haven’t seen or heard from him, but I knew a shit storm was coming.
To: Rebecca Gellar
From: Nicholas F. StoneHaven
Subject: WE NEED TO TALK
Gellar,
My office. Now.
Nicholas F. StoneHaven
Fuck that. I quickly reply to his e-mail, trying to keep my simmering anger to a minimum.
To: Nicholas F. StoneHaven
From: Rebecca Gellar
Reply: WE NEED TO TALK
Good morning,
I am in an important phone conference. I will check in later.
Rebecca Gellar
In less than five minutes I hear him, or rather, everyone on the whole floor hears him.
"GELLAR!"
From my peripherals I spot Nicholas as he heads in a straight beeline toward my cubicle. I know just from the scowl plastered on his face that he knows what I’ve done. I push aside the documents I’ve been scanning and slip them back into my to-do pile. I’ll never be able to get any kind of work done. Somehow, the already heaping pile of busywork I’ve been given has managed to grow larger.
“What the hell did you do?” he asks.
The one thing keeping me going today is my little slice of heaven – my revenge. I knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time until he figured it out. Not only did I “accidentally” book the company’s upcoming Gala the same night he’s planning to leave for his trip, but I cancelled his airline tickets.
Oops.
Score: Rebecca 1, Nicholas 0.
I think some people forget how much power one little digital calendar can hold. I have access to his schedule. A year’s worth in advance.
“Gellar, what the hell is this?” Nicholas asks.
I didn’t think this space could get any smaller, but his frame nearly takes up half of it. He waves a copy of today’s New York Times a mere inch from my face before flinging it angrily on my desk. I almost flinch at the inaudible gasps that are surely travelling down the aisle at this very moment. I’m definitely on his shit list.
I bite back a smile threatening to erupt as he passes one long, manicured hand through his slicked-back mane. The sight of him bubbling with frustration gives me pure satisfaction. His scowl is an ever-relentless reminder that nothing I do pleases him. I keep my eyes in front of my computer as I scroll through my e-mail. Maybe if I pretend he’s not here, he'll go away.
"Gellar, did you hear me? Are you deaf now? Or are you purposely ignoring me?"
No. Such. Luck. It would be easier to ignore a naked man walking into the middle of my office. Have you ever heard of the expression head on? Yeah, well he invented it. My mother always says “kill them with kindness” but it’s obvious that whoever made up that saying never met someone like Nicholas.
"Good morning,” I say sweetly. I hope he can smell the sarcasm dripping from my words.
The color of his suit catches my eye. I groan inwardly at the sight of it. He’s wearing grey today. I hate when he wears grey. The color contrast brings out the deep blues in his eyes. And it's irritating. Even now, he looks like he should be on his way to a magazine shoot for GQ. Rich bastard.
"I ask you, what the fuck is this?" he asks, pointing at the headline that reads: StoneHaven Publishing Co. to Host NY Gala.
"That is... well, you know about the gala. Y
ou're the one who asked me to schedule the event.”
Just play dumb. Enjoy this. Nicholas has been planning this trip for weeks, but this is payback for saying I meant nothing a few minutes after he fucked me. Apparently, there’s nothing cruel about getting belligerently drunk, seducing me into his office, and then pushing me under his desk while he makes plans to fuck Alison. I know she’s his fiancée, but it doesn’t make it any easier on me.
"Gellar, you know why I'm upset. Why did you schedule the gala on the same night I'm supposed to be out of the country?” he asks as he taps his fingers on my desk impatiently.
"Nicholas, I had no idea that you…"
"Cut the shit, Gellar, you did it on purpose."
If Nicholas hadn't drawn attention to the two of us before, there were definitely some curious stares now. Even Ken is sending “I'm sorry” glances at me as he types away at his computer. His office sits directly in front of my cubicle. The only thing dividing us is a walkway to the elevators. Thank God he’s so close. I could use the moral support right about now. Nicholas takes a seat on the edge of my desk, crossing his arms in an effort to intimidate me.
"Why did you cancel my tickets? And don't fucking toy with me.” My silence only makes him angrier. “What do you have to say for yourself?" Nicholas asks, almost growling.
"I’m sorry, I got the gala dates mixed up. Would you like me to call the event coordinator and the museum?”
The date of the event is already public. Changing it would only confuse people, or make them suspicious, but Nicholas knows that.
“I’m not sure what you’d like me to do; the papers won’t print any retractions.” I smile inside. I've won this battle, but the war is definitely not over.
A smirk creeps up Nicholas's face. He stands, and in one swift motion he spins my chair, pulling me to him. I squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. His hands hold my chair in place as he leans in, closing the space between his face and mine. What is he doing?
Bound to You: Volume 2 Page 8
