Knocked Up on Valentine's Day

by Amy Brent

  She slid her hand down my arm before dropping it to her side, and I knew exactly what she was trying to do.

  And if she did it again, I’d have to say something about it.

  Sheila Brown was the first woman VP I’d ever promoted within the company. She was a ruthless shark when it came to sales, and a fourth of my annual income was due to the quick decisions she could make and the way she could manipulate a room full of men. While rail-thin blondes weren’t really my type, she was for many men, and she was the only other woman I’d seen— other than Charlie—so skilled at throwing around her sensuality in a way that had men eating out of the palms of her hands.

  “Yes, I do plan on having a ribbon-cutting ceremony of course, and then my plan was to market the luxury hotel with commercials and internet advertisements that simply juxtaposed some of the amenities we had along with others around the island while alerting potential customers to the fact that we allow them to pick-and-choose their own packages,” I said.

  “Wonderful,” she said. “Question two.”

  “Exactly how many questions did you reserve for after this meeting, Miss Brown?” I asked.

  “Honestly? They’re just coming to me at this point,” she said, smiling up at me.

  “Well, I do have a busy schedule. If you’d like to shoot me an email, I’ll answer it at my earliest convenience,” I said.

  “Mr. James, the quicker I can get this information from you, the better I can do my job. You want to make money, right?” she asked.

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Then, let me do my job the best way I see fit,” she said.

  “And that requires one-on-one time after a two-hour meeting?” I asked.

  “One-on-one time is always better than a group setting, don’t you think?”

  Her question rolled around in my mind before she stepped a bit closer to me to show me something on her paper. Her hair was fluttering around her shoulders and she was slowly scooting into me, and I cleared my throat before I took a step back from her.

  “Miss Brown, you are aware of the policy I have regarding interoffice romances, correct?” I asked.

  “Of course, Mr. James. You make it very clear every time you fire someone over it,” she said.

  “Then it won’t come as a surprise to you when I tell you I abide by my own rules, correct?”

  I looked down at the hand she had outstretched and placed on my arm, and she ripped it back quickly. I saw a slight red tint paint her cheeks before she cleared her throat, and she nodded in punctuation before I continued.

  “As a leader, I have to set an example. My words don’t mean anything if they don’t mirror my actions. And while I’m sure your current actions toward me are nothing short of innocent, if something as simple as a rumor were to permeate the office environment, I would have quite a fire to put out.”

  “I’m very sorry, Mr. James. In my career, I have found that light touches and shoulder brushings with powerful men help to keep their attention. Usually, when I am talking with someone, their minds are going a mile a minute on something else. Studies show that a physical touch helps bring someone into the present, which means I’m more likely to get the answers I seek without having to repeat myself and waste my time,” she said.

  “I knew there was a reason, Miss Brown. I just wanted to alert you to the people currently glancing into the boardroom. They can see our physical reactions, but they can’t hear our conversation. It would be very easy to misinterpret this situation, and I have no time to put out interoffice rumors that do not coincide with my policies,” I said.

  “Understood, Mr. James. I’ll shoot you an email with the rest of my questions. Just try to have them to me as soon as you can. I want to start drafting potential commercial ideas as well as how to advertise around the island. If we could create a package we could market at a cheap price to the islanders as well, that would help boost their own economy, which means we could officially dedicate the luxury hotel to a cause, so to speak.”

  “There’s a reason you were the first woman VP I hired, Miss Brown. I’ll answer it as soon as I get it,” I said.

  “Then I’ll go get it sent,” she said, grinning.

  I watched her walk away before I gathered the rest of my things, and the pang of guilt I had felt before with Michael had now grown into a thunderous storm. I had just become the biggest liar and hypocrite in my whole company, and it had rolled off my tongue as if it was second nature. I’d always prided myself on being an honest individual, even if my company was run under very strict control. Those rules were in place for a reason, and the one person that should be abiding by them above all was skirting them. And lying about it.

  If I was my employee, I would be fired on the spot. Even with that knowledge, I was still thinking about when I would next see Charlie next.

  The thunderous storm of guilt made me so sick I had to sit back down.

  Chapter 20

  Charlie

  I knew the reason L wanted us to keep our distance for a little while, but it killed me to be away from him. Whenever something came up that required going to his office, I would simply drop it at his secretary’s desk. I’d tell her I had a busy day and whisper that I couldn’t be bothered with the ramblings of Mr. James, and she’d giggle while trying to rope me into a conversation. I’d brush her off, not wanting L to see me before I left, and whenever I’d leave the view of his office I’d feel a drop in the pit of my stomach.

  I hadn’t seen him at the office all week, and I was missing him.

  I wished we could take our relationship public. Sneaking around and using burner phones like this was getting tiresome, and felt wrong, and I didn’t realize we’d be trying to do it while cultivating an actual relationship. If we were still just playing around, then I’d be all for it. But now, we were trying to create something real.

  Something lasting.

  Something monumental.

  All the while sticking to the shadows and sneaking around as if we were doing something wrong. I was having trouble making peace with it.

  Even still, I got it. His policy regarding interoffice romance was the strictest around in the business world. When you mentioned the name ‘Ellison James,’ people would talk about two things; how the rare the rise of his empire was, and how he wouldn’t let his employees be distracted by the drama of interoffice romance. If word were to get out about him being involved with one of his employees, that part of his reputation would be smashed. The entire dynamic of his company would change. He would open himself up to lawsuit after lawsuit—and if there were enough of them, it was possible he could pay enough settlements to end up on the road to bankruptcy.

  But even still, no matter how nervous it made me feel, every single time I thought of him I felt the heat stir in my pelvis and rise all the way up to my neck.

  Hiding away from the public eye sometimes made me feel like he was ashamed to be seen with me, but the rational part of my mind knew otherwise. He was simply trying to protect the best interests of everyone involved while keeping his company afloat. I could surely understand that, and if this was the only way I could have L in my life, then this is what I’d have to do.

  And I was alright with that.

  I didn’t want to let him go, nor did I want him to feel as if he had to choose. I understood the passion and burning desire to own your company, and to see it flourish under your leadership, and I would never rip that from him. If anything, I supported what he was trying to do, even though I didn’t like being relegated to the shadows.

  Especially when I had to go an entire week without so much as catching his gaze during the work day.

  We clicked so well. Our senses of humor were the same and our life experiences seemed to line up. For every story I told him he had one of a similar taste, and I loved getting to know the man behind the money. Even though he owned his own multibillion dollar real estate development company, he still had dreams and aspirations. He had dreams and goals for this lu
xury resort he was building, but he also had personal dreams. Places he wanted to visit, simply so he could exist in them, and cliffs he wanted to stand on while looking out at the ocean. I found that the big, bad Ellison James had a side to him that was hopelessly romantic, and it made me smile whenever I thought about it.

  His surprise trip to the Bahamas showed me how fun and adventurous he was. The dinner where he declared the fact that he wanted to try and make this something real was the picture perfect setting. The sunset, the luscious foods, the light breeze, the ocean battering against the legs of the terrace. I could still remember how beautiful the reflection of the painted colors of the sunset was in his eyes while I tried to decipher whether or not he was being serious, and I could remember the feeling of elation and relief when I realized he was.

  He was being serious.

  Even though we had only seen each other once since that trip, that didn’t mean he was taking a step back. I had come home Tuesday evening after a late night of data entry in the office to a delivery of savory food from the four-star restaurant up the street. There had been an insulated box sitting at my doorstep with a bottle of wine accompanied by a letter he’d written to ‘Charles’.

  Then, I came home the next day to a beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting outside of my door also addressed to ‘Charles’.

  Each day was something new as I came home from work, and it became sort of a game between the two of us. I’d find myself getting distracted, wondering what in the world he was going to leave me next. Maybe it would be chocolates, or my favorite type of pizza. Maybe it would be another surprise trip, or airline tickets whisking us away to one of the places he had talked about.

  But, when I came home Wednesday evening, there was a dress hanging on my doorknob with a note that wasn’t addressed to anyone.

  L had hand-delivered this gift, and the note had been inscribed by him.

  “Charlie, find something nice to match this dress. Tomorrow night, you’re my surprise. L”

  So, I’d called in sick on Friday in order to go lingerie shopping. I had ducked into every store Miami had to offer, trying to find something that would match the beautiful silky fabric the dress had to offer. It was a dark red, off the shoulder dress that tumbled all the way to my feet and hiked my tits up to my chin. It was definitely a dress that would show off my body to L, so I wanted to make sure the spicy lingerie underneath did the exact same thing.

  I ended up finding a strapless bra and lacy panty set that was the same crimson red as the dress, and I tried my hardest to contain my excitement before I went home that evening to prepare. I had no idea what L had in mind or where in the world he would be taking me in such an eye-catching dress, but at 7 PM sharp—after waiting for almost an hour—there was a knock at my door.

  That night was when I had found out exactly how romantic Ellison James was. He was at my door with a small overnight bag and his body was clad in a muscle-hugging suit that had me drooling the moment I opened the door.

  But, the way his eyes scanned my body, I could tell he wasn’t even aware of the way I was looking at him.

  “Holy shit, you look incredible,” he said. “I have wonderful taste.”

  He’d come into the room and set his bag on the couch, but when he opened his bag he didn’t pull out clothes. Instead, he pulled out a very old CD player, complete with a disc inside of smooth, beautiful jazz tunes.

  “Care to dance?” he asked.

  He took my hand and led me to the middle of my apartment, then pulled me into his body. His arm wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me to him while we danced alone. His eyes twinkled down at me while we swayed in each other’s arms, and I simply got lost in the romance of it all. Here was this powerful man, who could have any woman he wanted and dance with her anywhere he chose, public or private, but where he wanted to be was pressed against my body in the middle of my tiny apartment.

  I felt safe with him. For the first time in my entire dating existence, I felt safe in the arms of the man I was with. I pressed my cheek into his chest and felt him kiss the top of my head, but the calm sensuality didn’t stay that way for long.

  Our Thursday night was punctuated with groans and sighs while my lips wrapped around his cock. I teased him, over and over again, squeezing his orgasm back with my hand before I’d suck him right back to the top. By the time I was ready to let him cum, his balls hung to low they tickled his own ass crack and the tip of his dick was raging blue.

  And he was begging.

  But, he dished what I did, and by the time I was ready to flood his tongue with my juices I was sweating onto the bed. He’d peeled every single piece of clothing off my skin before he’d teased me to the edge. I’d rode his face, bucked into his fingers, and even felt him press his pinky into my asshole. My body shook and writhed with need while the sweat dripped down every crevice of my body. I was so frustrated with his teasing that tears were running down the sides of my face, and it wasn’t until he heard me sniffle that he finally granted me the release I had been looking for.

  I had to slap a pillow over my face just so I could roar his name as loudly as I wanted.

  Ellison James was the perfect mixture of romance and adventure. The way he spoiled me was never by treating me to decadent things, but simply executing small gestures to let me know I was on his mind. The way his body could manipulate mine melted me into a puddle at his feet with every swipe of his tongue, and every time I wrapped my fingertips in his hair the burning truth of my reality would sear itself onto the backs of my eyelids.

  I didn’t want to let Ellison James go.

  And I knew that spelled trouble for us both.

  Chapter 21

  Ellison

  I told Charlie to keep away from me at the office for a little while, but it turned out to be harder than I’d anticipated. I knew our tans would give us away if we were seen together much, but I missed seeing her around. There were moments where I’d look over at my secretary and see a new file sitting there untouched, and I’d know that Charlie had been by. I’d sit there, trying to imagine what she may have looked like or what she would have been wearing. Maybe she was in one of her pencil skirts and a tit-blasting top, or maybe she was in a nice dress that playfully hid those succulent hips from my view.

  But, every single time I saw a new folder sitting untouched on my secretary’s desk, it would give me an idea. Even though I couldn’t risk seeing her this week in the office, that didn’t mean she had to go around wondering if I was thinking about her.

  So, I started sending things to her home. I couldn’t address them to ‘Charlie,’ so I started addressing her gifts as ‘Charles,’ In my mind at the time, sending gifts to some dude I could pawn off as a sick employee would be easier to explain than ‘Charlie,’ especially since Charlie was making such an impression in the eyes of corporate already. I’d rather have to explain how some guy I knew was sick or something rather than try to babble my way through why someone named ‘Charlie’ was getting my gifts.

  I knew I was being paranoid, but I had to be. What I had with her was too precious to risk over using her name.

  I sent her flowers, chocolates and dinner. I sent her wine, letters and trinkets. But, my personal favorite was the dress I personally hung on her door Wednesday afternoon. I’d taken a long lunch and had been passing by a shop when I saw a dress that simply screamed Charlie. It was subdued, but sexy, steeped in this rich color of red that reminded me of that hair I loved to wrap my hand in when she was sucking my cock.

  I felt myself growing in my pants just imagining her in it, and by the time I came to I was writing her a letter to accompany the dress before I rushed to hang it on her door.

  Thursday night ended up being one of the most passionate evenings we had shared together so far, but it wasn’t my favorite. Sex with Charlie was always incredible. The way she wrapped her mouth around my cock and sucked the life from it was astounding, but the way she edged me that night had me begging for her to releas
e me. Never in my life had a woman ever made me beg, but by the time her lips were done, I would’ve said just about anything in order to cum down that sweet throat of hers.

  But, she didn’t have to worry. I could dish out exactly what she gave, and by the time I was done with her she was a sweating, snotty, crying mess.

  A mess I scooped into my arms to hold while she trembled against my body.

  Charlie plagued my thoughts. She was pragmatic and uncomplicated. Simple in a way that made her elegant. Every time I shared a story with her, she had one to shoot back, and it allowed me to slowly peel back the layers of the astute businesswoman I employed in order to see the cheeky woman underneath. I found out that she had a bit of a competitive streak while she talked with me about things she would do with her company, and she playfully began juxtaposing things I didn’t do with things she would.

  She had some wonderful ideas, and I found myself looking forward to her competition in the future.

  It was that story that actually led me to our favorite outing that week. Yes, Thursday night had been incredible, but Tuesday night we had gone bowling. There was a bowling alley 45 minutes across town that was tucked between two rundown buildings, and I knew no one from work would be caught dead there doing anything. The beer was horrible and I wasn’t going to even attempt to touch their food, but it was easy to coax Charlie’s competitive streak out from within that beautiful body of hers.