I noticed the women at the table behind us gasping and whispering, so I slowly turned around to see who they were talking about: Jonathan.
He was nodding his head as the manager handed him a business card. He shook the man’s hand as he looked towards our table.
Our eyes met and my heart sped up; my nerves were running uncontrollably and my body felt like it was on fire.
I turned back towards Sandra. “That’s him,” I whispered.
“Him who?”
“Good evening, Claire.” Jonathan was at my side seconds later.
“Good evening, Jonathan...” I swallowed and felt myself blushing. “Umm, this is Sandra and this is Helen.”
“Good evening, ladies.” He smiled.
“Good evening.” They both practically swooned.
“Am I the only guy here?” He looked down at me.
“Yes...”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
He walked over to the bar, and once he was out of earshot, Sandra slapped my shoulder. “That’s your boss? Your description didn’t do him justice at all! Screw the age thing, Claire, he’s sexy as hell.”
“Is he single?” Helen eyed him.
“He’s taken.” Sandra wagged her finger. “Claire’s dating him.”
I’m not dating him!
“Well, about time! Welcome to Cougar-town!” Helen laughed and took a long swig of her drink.
On any other night, I would’ve replied to her silly little remark, but it was my birthday and I didn’t feel like letting her get to me. Besides, I wasn’t a real “cougar,” she was. She hardly ever dated anyone her own age. The oldest boyfriend she’d ever had was twelve years younger than her—when she was thirty five.
“Screw you, Helen.” Sandra rolled her eyes. “You better not say anything ridiculous when he gets back over here.”
Helen made a “scouts honor” symbol with her fingers, and as if on cue, Jonathan walked back over to the table with a tray of exotic drinks.
“Cheers to the birthday girl?” He smiled.
We all nodded and tossed back a shot.
He slid into the chair next to me and placed his hand on my thigh.
I immediately felt myself getting hot, so I brushed his hand away and crossed my legs.
Why did I let Sandra talk me into going commando tonight?
“So Jonathan...” Helen purred. “What exactly do you do for a living?”
She knows the answer to this already...Why is she asking him that?
Jonathan put his hand back on my thigh. “I’m the CEO of Statham Industries. And yourself?”
“Interesting! I’m a lawyer at my own law firm, Donovan and Fitz. It’s actually one mile away from your company. How did you become the CEO at such a young age?”
“I started the company when I was still in college. It was just a side thing at first—charging people twenty or thirty bucks here or there to install all types of systems on their phones or laptops, but then I realized that I could build phones and computers from scratch; that I could do a much better job than some of the bigger computer companies. So, my professor helped me to write up a business plan and I showed off the best products I’d developed. Then I got a few investors and professors on board with the condition that I would be the CEO and the company’s namesake. I made a profit the very first year and the rest is history.”
Wow...
“Very impressive.” Helen nodded. “It must be a pretty hectic life. What do you do in your free time, and why aren’t you married already? I’m sure someone like you has lots of beautiful options to choose from.”
What the hell is she doing?!
I was glaring at her, silently begging her to stop making him uncomfortable, but he didn’t look the slightest bit bothered by her insane questioning. He looked calm and in control.
He began strumming my thigh with his fingertips. “I work out, travel, and collect yachts in my spare time.”
Did he just say “yachts”? As in plural?
“And the reason you’re not married yet is because? Are you too rich to be tied down? Having too much fun sleeping with a different woman every night?”
God, please strike her down now...
Sandra was giving Helen the most evil side-glare in history. It looked like she was about to claw her eyes out.
“No...” He smiled. “That’s definitely not it. I guess I haven’t found the right woman yet.”
“Okay, I’m going to the bar to get a stronger drink.” Sandra shook her head.
“I’ll get it for you.” Jonathan released my thigh and stood up. “A stronger version of what you had before?”
Sandra nodded.
“Helen, you too?”
“Yes.” She batted her eyes.
“Claire?” He smiled his dreamy smile and I lost my words.
I shook my head and he walked away.
“Helen! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sandra fumed. “I told you not to—”
“Calm down, calm down.” Helen snorted. “I was just having fun. He’s clearly into Claire. He’s been eye fucking her all night.”
“Helen!” I shook my head.
“Don’t Helen me! It’s the truth. He’s eye fucking you right now, from all the way over there. And you’ve been doing it too so get over yourself. You two should just get it over with. The private bathrooms here are really nice. Hint, hint.”
I burst into laughter. I should’ve known Helen was only toying with him. She too often took pleasure in testing the threshold of people’s nerves.
Jonathan walked back over and set down more drinks. “Golden Paradise for you Sandra.” He slid it across the table. “Triple chocolate cloud for you, Helen. And for you,” he said as he reached for my hand, “would you like to dance with me?”
“Sure.” I slid out of my chair and clasped his hand.
He led me down two sets of stone carved steps, to the front of the stage where an orchestra was beginning to play.
He placed my hands around his neck and wrapped his arms around my waist, swaying me to a song I’d never heard before. We were so close to one another that I was breathing in his scent—a heavenly spicy smell that enveloped me and made me never want to let go of him.
“How was your day today, Claire?”
“Good. Yours?”
“Awful.” He pulled me even closer. “Until now.”
I really should have worn panties...
“You know, I could’ve sworn that my car didn’t have customized leather seats and tinted windows when I gave it to you the other day.”
“It didn’t?” He smiled.
“No...Thank you very much though. And I appreciate the table upgrade too.”
“You’re very welcome.”
The lights on the dance floor suddenly went black, and small twinkling lights began to shimmer from above.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s officially midnight!” the maestro spoke. “For those of you who are new to Havana, the next ten minutes on the dance floor will be spent underneath the stars!”
The lights transformed from black to dark purple, to mystic blue and then back to black as the orchestra began to play a mid-tempo version of Nora Jones’ “The Nearness of You.”
“You look amazing tonight.” Jonathan rubbed the small of my back.
I could only nod my head in thanks; that one brush of his fingertips had nearly melted me into the floor.
We continued dancing in silence, and I noticed that the lights were dimming darker and darker; the twinkling stars that were once so bright were flickering fainter and fainter.
As he held me close, I couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure. I knew Helen had only been joking earlier, but she had a point: Someone like Jonathan could definitely have any woman he wanted—a busty blond Swedish supermodel, a sexy high profile actress, anyone. Anyone more established—and probably much younger, than me.
“Do you normally wear dresses like this when you go out?” He tugged at the
back of my dress.
“Why?”
“I’m just wondering.”
“Wondering why someone my age would wear something so revealing? Is that what you thought when you first saw me tonight? You don’t have to beat around the bush.” I rolled my eyes.
He sighed. “Are you really that hung up on your age?”
Unfortunately yes...
“No.” I looked up at him. “I just find it a bit odd that you aren’t. I’m not sure what to make of it yet, and the fact that you just asked me about my dress makes me think—”
“Do you want to know what I was thinking when I first saw you tonight, Claire?”
“Yes...”
“You want an honest answer or a politically correct one?”
“Honest.”
“Okay.” He released me from his arms and stepped away.
Before I could wonder where he’d gone, I felt my back pressed against his chest and his hands wrapped around my hips.
“When I first saw you tonight,” he lowered his voice and whispered in my ear, “I wanted to drag you out of here, drive you home, and fuck you in every room of my house for the rest of the weekend.”
I gasped.
“The only reason I asked about your dress is because it looks good on you—very very good on you, and if we were to date I would hope to see more like it.” He hugged me tighter. “So, can you please stop reminding me about the age thing? I honestly wouldn’t give a damn if you were sixty.”
I nodded and tried to turn back around to face him, but he wouldn’t release me.
He started caressing my thighs. “Can you promise me you’ll drop the age thing?”
“Yes...”
“Good. Because it doesn’t matter to me.” He swayed me to the music and began planting kisses along my bare shoulders.
Every kiss sent a tremor down my spine, a new fluttering butterfly against my stomach.
“Are you still free tomorrow?” he whispered.
I didn’t answer him. It’d been so long since someone affected me like this and I didn’t want his barrage of kisses to stop.
“Claire?” He kissed the back of my neck and slid a hand underneath my dress.
He must’ve realized I wasn’t wearing any panties, because his hand stilled right where the lace band should’ve been. He kissed my neck again and slowly slid his fingers down lower.
I could feel the dampness between my thighs and I heard him fail to stifle a groan.
I’m never going commando around him again...
“Answer me, Claire...” He pushed one finger inside of me and torturously moved it in and out.
Say yes...You are still free tomorrow...
He pushed two fingers inside of me, holding my body completely still with his other arm. He kept his punishing rhythm at a steady pace, kissing my bare shoulders and whispering my name—waiting for an answer.
“This is our last midnight song ladies and gentlemen,” the maestro said as the horns began to play. “After this, we will be switching back to our in house DJ and turning on the lights.”
Jonathan slowly pulled his fingers out of me.
I thought we were going to dance to the final midnight song, but he began using his thumb to massage my clit. Then he pushed his two skilled fingers in and out of me again.
Oh my god...
His pressure was perfect. His rhythm was relentless. I was sure I was going to explode in any second if he didn’t stop.
“Mr. Stath—”
“Jonathan.” He kissed my shoulder.
“I...I...” My breath caught in my throat. “Stop...”
“Not until you answer my question.” He slipped his other hand underneath my dress and once again stalled when he realized I wasn’t wearing a bra. He cupped each of my breasts, softly pinching my nipples, pushing me further to the edge.
I said yes...
“The song is going to go off any second, Claire, but I’ll hold you right here—just like this, with the lights on until you answer me.” He was rubbing my clit even harder—faster, and I felt intense tremors building inside of me.
“Yes.” I bit my lip to prevent myself from crying out. I didn’t want any of the other people around us to know what was going on.
“Thirty seconds until we speed things up again!” The maestro’s voice was muffled.
“Yes what?” He continued his rhythm, continued caressing my breasts, and I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I exploded in waves around him—shuddering and convulsing, biting down on my lip so hard it was probably bleeding. My knees nearly gave out, and it took every bit of energy I had to not collapse into his arms.
“Yes...I’m...free to go out tomorrow.”
“Good.” He withdrew his fingers and spun me around. He pulled the bottom of my dress down and grabbed my hand, leading me past the stage.
He led me into a private restroom and locked the door.
Helen was right—they were nice, too nice. There was a wall length antique mirror that covered the entire left wall, a rustic chandelier with glimmering emeralds, and a sofa and chaise covered in plush red velvet.
If Jonathan had been any other man, I would’ve immediately started berating him for what he did to me on the dance floor. I would’ve said it was rude and offensive and that I would never speak to him again. But he wasn’t any other guy and I couldn’t deny that I loved every second of it; I was still entranced.
He took a white cloth from over the sink and ran warm water over it for several seconds. He pulled me over into a corner and slid my dress up past my hips.
“Spread your legs,” he whispered.
I slid my legs apart and looked into his eyes as he gently wiped the inside of my thighs. He moved his way up in a slow sensuous motion that nearly sent me over the edge again.
I tried coming down from the intense high I was feeling, but the look he was giving me was preventing that from happening. He grabbed another cloth—a dry cloth, and caressed me with it until I was completely dry.
We kept looking into each other’s eyes and I thought he was going to say something—or kiss me, but he simply smiled and reached for my hand.
“Are you ready to rejoin your friends now?”
I nodded.
He gave my hand a slight squeeze and walked me back upstairs to our table. As soon as we arrived, he offered to take another drink order for Helen and Sandra.
“So?” Sandra smiled. “Is your boss a good dancer?”
“He’s very good...” I picked up my mojito and chugged it.
She raised her eyebrow but she didn’t say anything further. She and Helen filled me in on two men they’d met during the midnight dance, but I was only halfway listening.
I was still hypnotized by Jonathan’s touch and honestly wished that it hadn’t ended so soon.
When he finally returned to the table, he talked to us as if we’d all known each other for a long time. Much to my surprise—and disappointment, he didn’t touch me again.
Jonathan put his jacket over my shoulders. “Where’d you park? I’ll walk you to your car.”
“The east lot.”
“Okay.” He clasped my hand and we walked over in silence. He helped me into my car and before I could drive off, he tapped the window.
“You never told me where you wanted to meet me tomorrow.” He smiled. “Did you forget already?”
“Oh no, I just...Um, how about doing an early run with a great view of the city? Around eight?”
“That sounds great. Where?”
“Corona Heights Park?”
“I’ll see you there.” He pulled a small box from his back pocket and handed it to me. “Happy Birthday again, Claire.”
“Thank you.” I tried not to blush as I rolled my window up.
As soon as I pulled in front of my house, I opened the box and peeled the thin layer of tissue paper away. There was a note: “To the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met: Give me a chance to show you how great we could be t
ogether—Jonathan.”
I rolled my eyes and pulled out what was underneath: a diamond lattice bracelet that looked like it cost more than my house.
I latched it onto my wrist and watched it sparkle against the darkness, wondering when I would ever wear something like this out in public.
I wasn’t sure whether I should keep it or not, but I knew I would give it back if I chose not to date him for the long term.
I looked down at the box again and noticed that there was a tightly folded piece of paper at the very bottom. I used my nails to pry it out and unfolded it: a page from the Statham Industries’ employee handbook.
Highlighted in yellow were the words, “Revised as of January 2013: The no fraternization clause is hereby terminated. Interpersonal relationships between employees are no longer a violation of company policy.”
I woke up at six in the morning, practically dragging Ashley and Caroline from their beds. No matter how many times I suggested that they go to bed early on nights that they had work in the morning, they never listened.
“Do you have your ID badges? You know I’m not driving out there to bring them if you don’t.”
“Yeah, yeah.” They both groaned as they zombie-walked down the steps.
I watched them take their time getting ready for work—ironing their white polo shirts and khakis, re-shining their leather flats, and arguing about whose turn it was to drive.
“Ashley, I’m pretty sure it’s your turn.” I sighed after watching them conduct yet another coin toss. “Please drive safely and—”
“Stay together.” Caroline groaned. “We’re sixteen, not six, mom. See you later.”
“Have a great day at work.” I shooed them out of the house and waited until their car coasted down the hill.
I rushed upstairs to my bathroom and changed into my most flattering workout outfit—a black and pink cotton pantsuit that clung to my curves, and matching black tennis shoes.
“Claire Gracen, this is not a date. It’s just an outing. A regular outing.” I looked at myself in the mirror. “Do not show any signs of attraction. Do not agree to any dates past today. This is only because he made you cum on the dance floor last night and you lost control...That’s the only reason you’re going to this thing. After today, this goes back to being a strictly professional relationship.”
Mid Life Love Page 8
