The Pleasure Chest Box Set

by Penny Wylder

  Chris has come up with a brilliant campaign. It’s all bright colors and vintage energy, featuring everything from fruit to pin-up girls with fun taglines and barely concealed innuendos. It’s a perfect match for the company, which is fun and funky and caters to a young demographic who’s in love with quirky media. I watch as Chris charms the marketing directors, and it’s the complete opposite of yesterday’s meeting. They’re talking and laughing, and totally engaged with the material that he’s presenting. I help him fill in gaps when it comes to implementation. I’ve worked with Maureen for three years and I’m intimately familiar with how our marketing campaigns get rolled out step by step. I tell them the most efficient timelines for some of bigger elements, and Chris looks impressed that I know all of the information off the top of my head.

  It’s a shorter meeting than yesterday, but a far more vibrant one. All three of the executives are smiling when we’ve finished ninety minutes later. “Chris,” Jason says, standing and buttoning his suit jacket, “this is really fantastic. I’m going to take it to the higher-ups later today, and hopefully we’ll have a final meeting to finalize everything.”

  He reaches out to shake Chris’s hand, and Chris takes it. I can see a small weight lift off his shoulders as he shakes everyone else’s hands. We put on our coats and say our goodbyes, and Chris nods to Jason. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

  “We’ll be in touch.”

  Chris and I hold it together until we exit the office, and then we’re beaming at each other. “That was great,” I say.

  He shakes his head in wonder. “I’ve never felt like that during a presentation. I could really tell that we were connecting on the material.”

  “It was perfect,” I say. “Really.”

  “Thank you for your help,” he says. “I think the way you described our workflow really helped them understand how we’re able to get done things effectively.”

  “No problem,” I say, but inside I’m glowing. I knew that he would change his mind about whether I could do this job.

  We pile onto the tiny elevator, and Chris presses the button for the bottom floor. But no sooner do we start to move than Chris hits the stop button. His briefcase hits the floor and then I’m pressed against one of the mirrored walls, his mouth on mine. “Chris,” I say, “what are you doing?”

  He chuckles. “I would have thought that was obvious.”

  A small hesitant thought flows through me, and I have to make sure. I ask, “After a meeting like that you need to blow off steam?”

  He pulls back, his eyes full of heat. “This has nothing to do with blowing off steam,” he says. “I want you, and I can’t wait.”

  Something in my chest eases and I surrender to the dance of our hands as we shuffle our clothing and Chris—already fully hard—puts on a condom. Seeing him so ready for me, knowing that he’s unable to wait even till we get back to the privacy of the hotel room, it makes me wet. And when Chris lifts me, pressing me into one of the mirrors and guides me down onto him, I can’t help but say, “Fuck, yes.”

  He’s so turned on, that I know this isn’t going to take long. I look across the elevator and catch my own reflection. I never knew that watching somebody fuck you could be so hot, but it is. I watch his back as Chris thrusts up into me, the feeling of his cock in this different position, but just as deliciously filling. He reaches between us, working my clit with his fingers, and it sends my body into overdrive.

  The combination of everything, the danger, the sight of him fucking me, and his body inside me drive me right to the edge. He strokes me with a skill that almost seems like it’s been made for me, and I come on his hand. I let my head fall forward onto his shoulder, surrendering to the orgasm as he plunges into me once more, twice, and comes with a final groan. This pleasure is hot and sharp, slicing through me and leaving me wanting more. He slips out of me, and lets me back down the floor. I readjust my skirt and underwear while he takes care of his own clothes. When we’re presentable, he pushes the start button again, and the elevator chugs downward. The door opens on the ground floor for to a line of people waiting to use it, and Chris and I glance at each other, barely able to contain our laughter as we head out to the street to call a cab.

  When we get back to the hotel we chat for a while, rehashing the meeting, sharing a couple more stories about our lives. I told him about how my bad pottery class led to my job at Ellison media, and he told me about his first pitch meeting with Chelsea Miller when he tried to hand her a pen and it exploded all over her. She ended up laughing hysterically, which is why he thinks she likes him so much.

  But later, Chris decides to go to the gym, while I take a nap. I’m more exhausted from last night’s play time than I’m ever going to admit to him. When I wake up from the nap, I feel so much better, and I can hear Chris taking a shower. I glance at the clock, and I see that it’s been a couple of hours. Perfect. In a little while Chris offered to take me to dinner so we can get to know each other in a more traditional manner. It’s really a date, which tickles me, because I never actually thought that I would have a date with Christopher Flintlock. But now that I do, it fills my chest with a happy warmth.

  I close my eyes, content to doze until Chris gets out of the shower, when I hear his phone ring. It’s coming from over on the table where he left it. I listen to see if it seems like he’s wrapping up in the shower, but I can’t tell. For all I know that could be Jason, telling us the fate of the deal. I try to get up but my feet get tangled in the sheets and I stumble. I try to get across the room before the ringing ends, but I’m not successful. When I pick up the phone it says ‘One missed call.’

  But a few seconds later the voicemail icon pops up. I click it immediately. If it’s Jason, Chris will want to know right away.

  It’s not Jason.

  Instead, I hear the familiar voice of Maureen. “Hi Chris, it’s Maureen. We got the message about how unhappy you are with Scarlett. You were right, sending her was a mistake in the first place. She’s not ready for this. We finally have someone well enough to take her place. So, since your trip is almost over, let me know if you need them to take a late flight to New York tonight. But whatever the case, we’ll get Scarlett on the first plane home. Talk to you soon.”

  I stare at the phone like it’s an alien that just dropped from the sky. What? What message is she talking about? Has Chris been hiding the fact that he’s really unhappy with my contributions so he could keep the peace and get rid of me? That would make the most sense. We had to be in close quarters because of the room situation, and he didn’t want to turn it ugly by telling me I was bad at my job even if I was. On top of that, he chose to take advantage of me. I’ll be lucky if I still have a job when I get back to Seattle. First I didn’t perform well, and then I performed way too well in the one way colleagues aren’t supposed to. My own phone chimes from my coat, and I know that Maureen has sent me the details of my flight back.

  There’s a pain in my chest and I give it a beat to sit there before I shove it away. If this what he wants, fine. I’m bigger than this. I can handle it. I can go back to the central office and pick up whatever pieces he left me. But I don’t want to have to see him before I do it. I didn’t bring many things with me, so it takes only a few minutes to throw everything into my suitcase. I leave my key on the table, and I throw on my coat. The water of the shower is still running as I leave him behind.

  11

  Chris

  I come out of the bathroom to a strange kind of silence. “Scarlett?”

  She’s nowhere to be seen in the small suite, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. She could have gone down the hall to the vending machines. I cross to my clothes and something gives me pause. My phone is on the coffee table. Before I went down to the gym I had left it on the table. I glance towards her room, and a sickening sense of foreboding settles in my gut. Her room is empty. Not just that she’s not in it, her things are gone. Her suitcase, everything that she had stashed on the
bedside table.

  What the fuck?

  I pick up the phone. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, but if my phone is the only thing of mine that moved, than it has to be part of the reason she left. I didn’t think she would just leave without saying goodbye. I thought we were having a good time, that we were both looking forward to dinner. I can’t think when I’m still dripping wet. I throw on some jeans and a t-shirt, opening my phone again. I see there’s a phone call from when I was in the shower. Scarlett answered my phone? Well yeah, idiot, she might have if she thought that it was Jason calling about the deal and you weren’t there to answer. But the missed call isn’t from Jason, it’s from the Seattle office.

  That sense of dread is growing in my gut, and I flip over to the voicemail tab. There it is, a minute after the call. I press play, and hear Maureen’s cool voice on the other end. Shit. I listen to the message, my horror only growing, realizing what Scarlett must have heard, what she must have though. Shit. “Shit.” It’s so bad that I have to say it out loud.

  I’m flipping through my emails, finding the one with Scarlett’s contact information, and I’m relieved that it’s still there and she didn’t delete it. I call the number, hoping desperately that she’ll pick up and I can tell her to just come back. But no, the phone rings until her voice picks up on the other end, asking me to leave a message. I call again. Maybe she’s ignoring me after what she heard in the message. I know that if I were in her position I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.

  God, I’m such a dick. I can’t even believe I tried to have her fired for spilling coffee and falling over. What kind of an ass am I to do that, especially with her in the room?

  She’s probably on the way to the airport right now, but I have no idea which one. I call Maureen back, my leg bouncing anxiously while I wait for her to pick up. It’s three hours earlier in Seattle—she should still be in the office.

  “This is Maureen.”

  “Maureen,” I say, “this is Chris Flintlock.”

  “Oh,” she says, sounding surprised. “I guess you got my message.”

  “I did, and I need you to tell me which airport you booked Scarlett out of.”

  She chuckles, “One of my assistants did the booking Chris, but I can have her check if you wa—”

  “Yes,” I say, not even letting her finish the word. “Now please, this is time sensitive.”

  “Right. Okay.” Maureen sounds flustered, and there’s a part of me that feels a little bad for getting in her face, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Scarlett fly away tonight because of a goddamn misunderstanding. When she comes back on the line she seems calmer. “She’s booked out of LaGuardia. Delta Airlines. Can I ask if something is wrong?”

  “Not yet. We’ll see. Thanks Maureen.”

  “Chris, about the—”

  I hang up. I don’t have time to answer any other questions. I grab my coat and wallet, practically sprinting for the door. If there’s any luck in the world I’ll be able to catch her before she gets on the plane. I’ll make them page the whole damn airport. She’s not leaving this city if I can help it.

  I hail the first cab I can see, and he skids to a stop in front of me. I hop in the back. “I need to get to LaGuardia,” I tell the driver, “and there’s a bonus in it if you get me there in less than thirty minutes.”

  The driver looks at me like I’m crazy, and maybe I am, but he pulls off, and I lean my head back against the seat. How could I have been so stupid? I should have called Maureen back and told her that I over reacted to the incident with Scarlett. I would have told her that she’s great, that she’s perfect, that she turned out to be exactly what I needed and more. I try Scarlett’s cell again. I try it multiple times, every time it goes to voicemail. That’s not a good sign. The minutes absolutely crawl by, and with each tick of the clock I get more nervous that she’s slipping out of my grasp.

  The phone rings, and I glance down, my heart falling when I see it isn’t her number. It’s Jason—the call I should really be hoping to get.

  “Chris Flintlock,” I answer, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers and trying to sound professional and not like a desperate teenager.

  “Chris,” Jason says. “Hey, I just wanted to give you a heads up that corporate loved your material. They’ll be giving us the final word in the morning, but I can’t imagine we won’t be signing a contract tomorrow.”

  “That’s great, Jason. Thank you for letting me know.”

  “What do you say we go out for drinks, get in an early celebration.”

  “I really would love to,” I say, imagining how much better it would be if I could take Scarlett to drinks instead of chasing her down, “but something really urgent has come up, and I’m on my way to take care of it now.”

  “Love trouble?” he asks, and I stay silent, not knowing what to say. He takes my silence for the admission that it is, and chuckles. “Go get her, brother. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

  “Talk to you soon.”

  I hang up the phone. It hits me that I’m in way deeper with Scarlett than I realized. The Pleasure Chest is the biggest client I’ve had the opportunity to sign this year, and I’m this close to doing it. But I can’t even think about that, I don’t even care, because she’s not here with me. What the hell have I gotten myself into? And do I ever really want to get back out?

  We pull up to the Delta departures exactly forty minutes later. I give the driver a bonus anyway, because riding with me quietly cursing in the backseat, anxiously tapping my foot and making phone calls couldn’t have been the fare he wanted tonight. As soon as the cash is out of my hand, I’m sprinting into the airport. If I’m lucky, if I’m really lucky, my cab driver was faster than the one that she took, and made up some time. If someone up in the unknowable universe is looking out for me, she isn’t through security yet. Looking at the security line, I might have a chance.

  I scan the check-in counters at Delta, and I don’t see her, so I sprint for the security line instead, looking for anyone blonde and her height. The line stretches almost the length of the terminal, disappearing into the maze of metal detectors in a mess of serpentine twists. I jog down the length of the line, and she’s not there. I reach the main funnel into the terminal, and there are so many people. I feel my hopes fall as I scan the crowd, because there’s absolutely no way I’m going to find her in this mess.

  And then my entire body goes electric, because I see her. She’s inside security, sorting her things to go through the metal detector. “Scarlett!” I call out to her at the top of my lungs. I throw myself towards her without thought, ducking under the rope of the lines, leaping over a suitcase, and shoving my way through the line. More than one curse is thrown my way I as push through the crowd. “Scarlett Brown!” I yell to make sure she hears me. I break free of the crowd in front of the first checkpoint, and she’s right there. “Scarlett!” I call, and I move to go to her. The security agent is on his feet in a second, blocking my way and telling me that I can’t go any further. I barely hear him because Scarlett has looked up and she’s seen me. Relief floods my system like cool rain, and I can tell that she’s confused. “Scarlett, please!” I say. She grabs her things and comes over to me. The security guard has a look on his face like he doesn’t want to deal with this shit, and the travelers behind me are even worse.

  Scarlett steps back over the threshold to my side of security, and then I’m drawing her to me and kissing her. I feel her body jump in surprise and then relax, molding to me like it’s something familiar and comforting. It only lasts a second though, because Scarlett is pulling away, looking around. “Chris, what are you doing here?”

  “You can’t leave,” I tell her. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go.”

  Her face hardens. “Oh? I heard the message. The company got your request and they’re sending somebody better. So your wish is granted.”

  “Scarlett,” I say, putting my hands on her shoulders, “I didn’t request
that. I don’t want to send you away, because there is no one better. You are everything I need. Everything I didn’t know I needed.”

  Confusion clouds her face as my words sink in. “Really?”

  “Really.” I lean in to kiss her again, and this time she’s smiling as my lips meet hers. Cheers go up around us from the people in line, whether or not they’re happy for our reunion or they’re happy because the security obstruction is about to be cleared, I’ll never know. Scarlett blushes when I pull away, laughing. I take the handle of her suitcase and guide her out of the line so the security guards stop glaring at us.

  “I still don’t understand,” she tells me. “Maureen said she got the message.”

  “She must have meant that idiotic phone call I made that first day about you. I didn’t call her again after that. About that, by the way, I don’t think I’ve ever been more of an ass in my life.”

  She smiles. “I forgive you. Though it is quite an experience having someone tell your boss you should be fired.”

  “I’m a dick.”

  She’s laughing again, and she leans into me. “Yeah, you are a little bit. But thankfully I know a lot of really great ways you can make it up to me.”

  “Oh?” My cock twitches in my pants, and I know that whatever she wants me to do, I’ll do. I will grovel by worshipping her body in every way I know how.

  She slips her coat on. “I think those things are better left for somewhere a little less public.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” I say. “But there’s one last thing I need to take care of.” I pull out my phone and dial Maureen’s office.

  She answers almost immediately. “This is Maureen.”

  “It’s Chris,” I say. “To answer your question, no I don’t need anyone to take a late flight here, and Scarlett will be staying with me for the rest of the trip.”