by Sarah Bailey
He came back over to the bed, handing me a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. I pulled on the t-shirt and let out a small laugh. It came up to my knees. “This is more of a night shirt on me,” I said.
He grinned at me and said, “Good. Then you won’t need the boxers, and it will be easier for me to slide my hands all over you during the night.”
Pleasure again rippled through me at the thought of Julian’s strong hands all over my body, his cock pressing between my legs. Julian pulled the boxers on himself, then joined me in bed. He slid his hand up my t-shirt, cupping my breast, and pulled me into his solid chest. His skin was still hot. Somewhere in the back of my head, a small, insistent voice told me to get up, get away, run. It wasn’t safe. I was going to get hurt. But as Julian pulled me snuggly against him, the voice subsided, and I sunk into his heated flesh, feeling safe, cozy, protected.
“Good night, Sarah,” he said, nuzzling my neck.
“Night,” I whispered, and soon found myself falling deeply, soundly asleep.
Chapter 8
The next morning I woke up to a room flooded in pale sunlight. I noticed the alarm clock on the bedside table. Seven in the morning. If I made it home by eight, I’d have just enough time to get ready and be at work by nine-thirty. I looked beside me, and saw that the bed was empty.
I didn’t get a good look at Julian’s room the night before because it was so dark, and I was already so tired, but this morning I got an eye full. He had two 17the century English library chairs set up by the glass wall overlooking the beach, along with an antique footstool. Persian carpets covered the floor, and an antique Chinese cabinet lined the wall. I wandered into the washroom. There was a massive bath and shower, both done with blue-glass mosaic tiles, and a wide skylight letting in the morning sun, giving the room a spacious, airy feel.
I left the bedroom, and walked down the hall to the stairs. From the top of them, I could hear noise coming from the kitchen, and an incredible smell swirling through the air. I raced down, and found Julian at the stove cooking up some waffles. His eyes shifted to me, and he smiled. “Morning, sunshine.”
“What’s all this?” I asked, bounding up to him and wrapping my arms around his waist.
He tilted his head down, and gave me a soft, sultry kiss. “I promised you breakfast,” he said. “And I always keep my promises.”
He grabbed two plates from the French cabinets, and placed the waffles onto them. Then he slid his hand up my makeshift nightshirt and gave my bare ass a tight squeeze. “Eat up, Sarah. You’re going to need your energy for what I intend to do to you after breakfast.”
A shiver vibrated through me, and I felt my lips part. Then something occurred to me, and I pulled back. “If I’m going to make it to work on time, we have to be out of here in half an hour.”
“That’s plenty of time,” he said, moving his hand around to my sex. He slid him fingers through my pubic hair, and pressed lightly down on my clit. I whimpered, leaning into him. He grabbed my hands by the wrists, holding them roughly behind me. “I’m going to take you right here, right up against the counter, Sarah.” I could feel my pulse start to quicken, my breath get ragged. “I want to see you, stark naked, every inch of you lit up by the sun.”
He turned me around, and pressed me up against the island. “Put your hands on the counter,” he ordered. I didn’t hesitate. I did exactly as he commanded. And somehow, it felt so good. I was giving up control, and it felt so right. I felt somehow so free. And so aroused. I heard a foil packet rip. Then he took me hard. His cock slid into me, deep and fast. I was panting, quivering, the desire for more pulsing through my blood as he slammed into me again and again and again.
His breath was harsh and ragged in my ear, and I could feel my core start to clench. The tension in my tightened, until my whole body was quaking, and yearning desperately for release. Finally, Julian pushed me right over the edge. I came, long and hard, my orgasm exploding through me, making me writhe and throb and shiver. It was pure ecstasy. Pure freedom being able to lose myself so completely. I’d never been so obliviously lost in pleasure. I’d given up control, and now, spread out before Julian, under his command, I felt safe to let it all go. The release was so much more intense and wild than when I was in control of my own pleasure. And the feeling was exciting, and new, and so addictive.
As the last wave of shivers surged through my body, Julian slowed down, stroking the walls of my sex gently, deliciously prolonging my climax. His hands clawed at my ass, sinking deeper into my flesh. He leaned close to my ear and whispered harshly “you’re such a hot piece of ass. And you’re all mine.” His words ignited my lust, and a tight, aching need started to build in me again. He sunk into me, slow, deep, luxuriating in the feel of my sex against his cock, letting me know that I was his to enjoy. Then he started thrusting faster, harder, expertly pushing me toward another climax. His thrusts became more urgent, more punishing. Then he grunted harshly, pulled me back, sunk his teeth into my shoulder. I gasped at the sudden sharpness, and then he growled, a deep, masculine, guttural sound, and started pumping his hips madly into me. His orgasm set me off. Searing pleasure pulsed through me with each violent thrust of his cock, my second climax even more dazzling than the first.
His thrusts slowed down; I felt the final spasm of his cock inside me, and made a motion to turn around. He stilled me and said, “I’m not done with you yet.” He started gently rubbing my clit with his finger, and I moaned again under his touch, my mind blown by the fact that I could still be needy for more of him.
But then I heard a key turn in the front door lock, and I pulled out of his grasp. “Who’s that?” I asked, suddenly alarmed.
I heard the click of heels, and then a tall, willowy blond appeared at the entrance to the kitchen. She was wearing a purple Hugo Boss sheath dress with touches of satin trimming that really emphasized her incredible curves, and her thick, wavy hair cascaded to her waist. She had stunning features; huge blue eyes, a button nose, high cheekbones, and full lips. She stared at Julian, her gaze imperious, and I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my chest.
“Good morning, Julian,” she said, a slight smirk on her face. “I see you’ve been keeping busy since I saw you last.”
I felt the color drain from my face, and I stepped away from Julian. Feeling utterly exposed, I tugged down the hem of my t-shirt, and stared back at this stranger in shock and confusion.
“Who are you?” I asked. Before she could answer my question, recognition dawned on me. She was Megan Woods. The Megan Woods. Starring actress in several Hollywood blockbusters.
She studied me carefully, and I felt a flicker of unease cross my face. My stomach clenched sickeningly, and I almost didn’t want to hear the answer to her question. “I’m Julian’s ex,” she said. “As of two weeks ago.” Her stare continued to be calm and steady. But her expression was slightly icy, and then a sardonic smile appeared on her face. “I see he’s moved on quickly.”
I felt a sudden surge of rage rip through me. I turned to Julian, my stomach still clenching, my chest constricting so tightly it was hard to breathe. “Julian?” I said, my voice strangled. I felt a scream start to rise in my throat, but I stamped it down, and fisted the hem of my t-shirt.
I could still feel the weight of Megan’s eyes on me. “Waffles,” she said, her tone deceivingly light. “Julian’s post-morning-fuck delight. You have to hand it to the man, he’s talented both in bed and in the kitchen. But hold on tight, sweetheart, ‘cause it won’t last.”
“Megan,” Julian said, his voice stern. But I looked at him closely and saw that his expression was pained and wounded. My chest tightened in knots. There was also a trace of longing in his eyes. It was unmistakable. He wasn’t over this woman. He obviously still had feelings for her.
Megan held up her hand, bidding Julian to stop speaking. “Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve had enough of your smooth talking for a lifetime.”
Again, her words felt like k
nives stabbing me in the gut.
Her eyes swept past me again to Julian, and an indecipherable look passed between them. “I’ve just come for my things,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’ll be up in the bedroom packing.”
As soon as she left the room, I turned on Julian. “What the fuck was that?” I screamed, unable to contain myself any longer. He stepped toward me, tried to grab me and pull me to him, but I pushed him away, hard, and put as much distance between us as possible. I felt my legs trembling, and was scared they might give out, but I held my ground.
“Sarah, it’s nothing,” he said. “She’s an ex. It’s over.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “Right,” I said, “but she still has a key to your house, and her things are still up in your bedroom. When were you going to tell me about this?”
Julian’s eyes became hard, deadly serious. “Sarah, there’s nothing to tell. Like I said, it’s over.” He moved toward me, but I quickly swept to the other side of the island. I was so angry, I wanted to throw something. “Why don’t we sit down and talk about this over breakfast?” he said. His tone was controlled, but his eyes were pleading.
I looked at him in disbelief. “You want to get all domestic with me, while your ex is upstairs in your bedroom, packing her things?
“Sarah,” he said sternly. “I’m not with her. I’m with you. Like I said, it’s over between us.”
I felt my chest heave, and knew I’d be sobbing uncontrollably in a minute. I gripped the edge of the island hard, digging my fingers into it, willing myself not to cry. Julian came up behind me, and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Baby, please,” he whispered in my ear. “Let’s eat and talk this over.”
I spun on him, rage again blazing through me. “You talked all night about trust, and wanting me to be only yours. You wanted to know all about my ex. And whether I had any feelings for that writer guy. Everything about my past, you wanted on the table. Yet, you,” I said, my voice cracking, “didn’t even have the decency to tell me about something as big as this.”
“It’s over,” he repeated, looking exasperated. “How many times do I need to tell you that?”
“As many times as it takes for me to believe it. As many times as it takes for it to no longer be a lie” I said, my voice trembling. “I saw that look of yearning you shot her when she walked in. It doesn’t matter what you say, Julian. You’re not over her. Not by a long shot.”
I heard footsteps on the stairs again, and then Megan was once again at the entrance of the kitchen. She shot Julian another pointed look, then walked over to the island and placed a key on the counter. “This is yours,” she said. Then, holding up a duffel bag, she said, “And I have all my things. Goodbye, Julian,” she said, walking over and placing a peck on his cheek. It left a smudge of lipstick on his skin.
Julian let out a long sigh. “Take care, Megan.”
She nodded almost imperceptibly, then turned her focus fully on me. “Good luck,” she said. “You’re going to need it. No one ever lasts too long with him.” Then she spun around, and walked back the way she came. I stood there frozen, listening to the click of her heels, and then the slamming of the front door.
“Sarah,” Julian said earnestly. I shook my head, and walked away. Then, I spun on his again. Anger and was pulsing through me so hard, I was literally in pain.
“Why? Julian? Why? Why would you toy with me like that? I told you I was ready to have sex with you, no strings attached. Why did you have to bring my emotions into it? Probe into all of my vulnerabilities? Is this some kind of game to you? You enjoy fucking with people, is that it?”
Julian’s face clouded over, and his eyes looked pained. “Sarah,” he said, his voice low, “I’m not fucking with you.” He turned toward the island, and picked up the key. “Here,” he said, holding it out to me. “This is how serious I am about you.”
I pushed his hand away, and let out another harsh laugh. “What is this, the revolving door to Julian’s beach house? Her fucking fingerprints are still on it, that’s how fresh this break up is. And her fucking lipstick is smeared across your cheek.”
I shuddered. My chest started contracting painfully again, and the tears welled up in my eyes. “I can’t do this again,” I said. “I can’t let myself be hurt again. This is done, Julian.”
“No it isn’t,” he said, sternly, this time taking a swift step toward me and grabbing me by the waist. “I’m mad about you, and I won’t let you break this off.”
I shot him the frostiest look I could manage. “I get it. I need to be all yours, but you can sleep with whomever you want.”
“It’s not like that,” he hissed. “We need to talk this over, Sarah. You need to give me a chance to explain.”
It suddenly occurred to me to look at my watch. It was nine o’clock. I had half an hour to get to work. “Damn it,” I said. “On top of everything else, I’m going to be late again.”
Julian frowned. “I’ll drive you home. I’ll get you a coffee at the Starbucks down the street from you while you change, and then I’ll drive you to work.”
I shook my head, and pushed him away. “No,” I said firmly. “I’m taking a cab home, and then I’m driving myself to work.”
“Sarah,” he said, his eyes flashing with anger. “You’re being unreasonable.”
“Well, it’s not your fucking problem anymore,” I said, running out of the room to get my dress, and call a cab.
Julian finally let me go. Once I was seated in the cab, something in me broke. All the pain, confusion, betrayal, and embarrassment, rose to the surface all at once, and it was too much to contain. My chest started heaving uncontrollably, and the tears streamed down my face. I’d made myself so vulnerable, so quickly, because I thought I’d found something infinitely special. Instead, I’d opened my heart up to a player, and this was the price I had to pay. I’d have to learn never to make the same mistake again.
***
Somehow, I managed to burst through the doors of Cooper McGregor at 9:45 that morning. I hadn’t had my coffee yet, and still felt like a total wreck, but I had to keep it together. My job depended on it. I flashed Annabel the brightest smile I could muster, and then made my way discreetly to my desk. I quickly settled in, and almost immediately, the phone rang. I answered.
“Sarah. Come to my office please.” It was Paul. And though his tone was even, it was also a bit stern. As I rose to my feet, I looked down at my shoes. I felt the blood drain from my face. I’d somehow managed to mismatch them. Both were black pumps, but one was suede, and other was leather. I was wearing a sleeveless white shirt with black capris, which called attention to my feet. There was no way I’d get through the day without anyone noticing.
I peeked my head into Paul’s office, and he motioned for me to come in and sit down. His perceptive eyes went straight to my feet, and he frowned slightly. I quickly took a seat, hiding my shoes from view.
“You were late,” he said matter-of-factly. “That’s twice.”
I suddenly felt flustered, and adjusted myself in my seat. “I’m so sorry. I got caught in traffic again,” I lied.
He leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. “Please, just try to be on time, okay? It’s only fifteen minutes, and you often stay late so that more than makes up for it, but I don’t want other workers to think I’m making allowances for you. Understood?”
I nodded, then looked at him expectantly. “Is that all?” I asked.
He took his pen in his hand, and started tapping it against the desk. Then his eyes flicked sharply to mine. “No,” he said. “That’s not all. There’s something else I’m entirely more concerned about.”
My stomach twisted uncomfortably, and my pulse picked up. Paul stared at me intently with a look of deep unease on his face, and a moment later, I felt myself break into a cold sweat.
“Please tell me,” I said, my voice sounding small.
“It’s Julian,” he said, studying me closely for a reaction. “There are some papar
azzi shots circulating of the two of you at lunch, and then again at dinner last night.”
I felt my throat get tight, and I tried to discreetly wipe my hands off on my capris.
“In a way, it’s not my place to interfere. You don’t of course, work for him so there’s no direct conflict of interest, but I don’t want any unnecessary tension around the office. And with Julian’s history, there’s likely to be some.”
I swallowed quickly, trying to force down the lump in my throat. “History?” I asked, my voice coming out high-pitched.
Paul’s brow furrowed, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yes,” he began. “Julian has been known to be a bit of a ladies’ man. He seemed to have settled down with Megan Fox for a while, but that recently ended badly, and I still don’t think he’s over it.”
I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. Here I was, talking to my boss about my love life. How much more awkward could it get? “So you’re saying he’s on the rebound.”
