by Sophie Stern
“Nah, it’s cool, man.” Colby’s eyes are still closed.
I turn on Pandora and a steady beat comes on, so August stands up and marches over to Anna. We both giggle as he grinds and dances against her, swaying to the beat. He ends the dance with a soft kiss to her forehead.
“Congratulations, little sister,” he says.
32
When Anna kisses Colby for the first time as a married woman, we all cheer. It’s the shortest, sweetest, most perfect wedding I’ve ever been to. Both my dad and Colby’s parents came to watch them tie the knot. Colby’s mom hates the idea of her son getting married so young, but she manages to push down her scowl long enough to take some sweet pictures of the miniature ceremony. When the wedding ends, the happy couple tries to take off to their hotel, but my dad shakes his head.
“It’s your wedding day. We’re going to go celebrate first.” He pauses, then shoots a quick look at Tanya and Derrick. “As a family,” he adds. Derrick smiles and nods. I get the feeling he understands how difficult it is for my dad to be without Mom today.
“So, August,” my dad says when we’re all settled at the restaurant. “Charlotte tells me you rescued her from that awful desk job she had.”
“Dad!” I protest, but August laughs and pats my dad on the shoulder.
“I did my best,” he smiles. “And if I may be so bold, I’m quite sure she enjoys her new job a hell of a lot better.”
My dad’s chuckle rings loud and clear throughout the restaurant.
“Dad!” I say again. “You never told me you didn’t like me working at Southvale Community College. What gives?”
He shrugs. “You never seemed truly happy there.”
I wrinkle my brow in confusion, but don’t push the issue. We’re at lunch, after all. I don’t really want to get into a deeply personal conversation in front of Tanya and Derrick. Colby’s mother is sipping her glass of wine while his dad starts talking sports with mine.
“Hey Beautiful,” August whispers to me, noticing my face. “Wanna take a walk?”
I nod and he excuses us for a moment. We head outside into the crisp autumn air and he takes my hand.
“What’s wrong?” Of course August would see that I’m unhappy. Of course he would see that I’m worried. He’s observant. He watches me. He protects me. Of everyone I’ve ever met, he’s the only person who can read me perfectly.
“I worked hard at that job,” I say, remembering how my years of working as the school’s webmaster ended abruptly over a disagreement with the new president of the college. “I didn’t know my dad thought I was unhappy. I never thought I was unhappy.”
“Don’t worry about that, Charlotte. You learned a lot while you worked there. You gained a lot of experience and you met new people. You made a difference. Now you’re taking the skills you acquired and moving on to something else. Something even better.”
I think about his words as we walk. He’s right. I know he’s right. I learned a lot while I worked at SVCC. I was in charge of an entire website, I developed social media channels for the school, and I even represented the college on occasion at conferences. Before my job there, I never would have had the confidence to speak publicly. Before that position, I wouldn’t have known how to create a Facebook page for a college.
“Thanks,” I say, turning to him. “You always know just what to say.”
He wiggles his eyebrows at me, pushes me against the side of the building, and kisses me deeply.
“What was that for?” I ask when I’m finally able to catch my breath.
“That was a taste of how you’re going to thank me later for always being so understanding.”
Hand-in-hand, we head back to the restaurant and rejoin the fun.
33
When we walk in the front door together, I try not to get all emotional. Things feel so right when we’re together. Things feel so strong. I’m thrilled for Anna that she finally found the man who will spend his whole life making her happy.
Could August be that man for me?
We’re so different in many ways, but not so different in others.
We’re both broken and scared and afraid. We’re both lost. We both have scars, though some are more Visible than others.
What matters is that we’re in this together.
August and Checkers snuggle up on the sofa. The puppy jumps around for a few seconds before cuddling up next to August. It’s like they were meant for each other.
“I can’t wait for him to see your place,” I tell August. “He’s going to go nuts when he sees how big it is.” I don’t know Checkers’ history, but I imagine that living at a shelter wasn’t much fun. He already loves my house. He won’t know what to do with himself at August’s.
“Annabelle is going to have a field day with him,” August comments in agreement. His part-time housekeeper, Annabelle, is one of the most motherly and comforting women I’ve ever met. I know she’ll love having another little someone to take care of while she’s at August’s place.
“Did you ever have a pet when you were a kid?” I ask August, realizing suddenly that I don’t know much about what it was like for him to grow up as the son of a billionaire.
“Nope,” he tells me. “My dad was never home, so he didn’t want us to get a pet.” He pats Checkers on the head as he remembers. “I always wanted a puppy or a fish.” He smiles. “Dad was afraid it would be too much work for two boys to handle on their own.”
“That’s quite the combination,” I comment. “A puppy and a fish?” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively. “I know what I’m getting you for your next birthday.”
“What about you?”
“I had a cat.”
“Really?” He laughs.
“What?”
“I just didn’t picture you as a cat person.”
“Grumpy, eccentric, and alone?”
“I can’t picture you as a crazy cat lady.”
“My cat hardly made me crazy. He was fat and lazy and comfortable.”
“I’m feeling pretty comfortable right now.” August’s eyes flicker with excitement and he lets Checkers off his lap. The puppy barks and runs around, wagging his tail before heading into the kitchen for a snack.
“Yeah?” I ask him, climbing onto his lap, making myself at home. “I like it when you feel…comfortable.” I lean down and kiss him softly, delicately, almost as if he might break. I know that he won’t, but sometimes it’s still nice to be soft.
Sometimes it’s nice to be gentle.
His body reacts almost immediately to mine and he grips my hips, pulling me into himself. I grind down on his hips, rotating them onto his dick until he’s hard and pushing up into me.
“Charlotte,” he murmurs.
“August,” I say, “I’ve been thinking about your cock all day.”
“Is that so?” He smiles.
“It’s so.”
He teases my shirt off, tossing it aside so he can play with my nipples through my sheer bra. He lowers his mouth to bite them, nibbling until they’re both alert and erect. All of my body is ready for him. All of me is ready to feel him.
I’m still reeling from the kiss outside of the restaurant earlier, still wet from the way his fingers grazed my body. Now my nerves are firing off electricity, sending goose bumps along my arms.
As I kiss August, his fingers continue to play with my nipples, pinching and twisting, keeping them alert. As if they could be anything but. With August Mason beneath me, I could never not be completely turned on.
From the growing bulge in his pants, I know he feels the same way.
I slip to my knees, kneeling gently in front of him on the floor. I gaze up at him for a moment as his hand strokes my cheek. Then, after he soaks me up, he nods, slightly.
I don’t waste another minute.
Unzipping his pants, I slide his cock into my mouth and indulge in the one treat I’ve been missing all day: him.
August growls with appreciation as I take his l
ength in and out of my mouth, slowly letting my tongue glide over each inch of him. My left hand cradles his balls while I blow him. My right plays with my nipples as I focus on bringing both of us the pleasure we so desperately crave.
I'm getting wetter, needier, more desperate as I start to suck harder, losing myself in the moment. Soon I'm not thinking about Anna or my old job. The only thing I need is August. The only thing I want is August. The only thing I have to focus on is him, his cock, and this moment.
And I love losing myself in him.
"Charlotte," he hisses my name, gripping my hair and forcing me deeper onto his cock. It's exactly what I need: him taking control. There are too many moments when I feel like I have to make a million choices. Losing my ability to make decisions, even something as small as how fast to suck him off, is exactly what I need.
I need to submit to him here, in this moment.
I crave it.
And as I give in to my feral desires, as August takes over my entire body, I feel him erupt inside of me.
Exploding.
34
I have two weeks’ worth of voicemails to catch up when I return to the office on Monday, but I brace myself and hit “play,” trying to remember that it’s all going to be okay.
The first three are ordinary, normal. Nothing special. Nothing important. Nothing I’ll lose sleep over.
Then voicemail #4 comes through loud and clear.
It’s Tim Shoemaker: my old boss.
Yes, the one who didn’t care that I was quitting.
Yes, the one who sided with the president of the college over something they should have had no opinion about.
Yes, the one who hasn’t spoken to me since I quit.
Oh, and did I mention that he has my personal cell phone number? So why would he call me at my new place of employment?
“Hi Charlotte, this is Tim Shoemaker. I, uh, I’m calling in regards to your position at SVCC. We’ve made some changes recently and I’d like to discuss the possibility of you returning to your former job here.” He pauses, then continues. “We couldn’t offer you a raise or a bonus, but would be quite grateful if you would consider returning to your SVCC family. We all miss you here. Let me know as soon as possible. Thanks.”
I stare blankly at the wall in front of me.
Is this for real?
Quitting my job as the webmaster was one of the hardest choices I’ve ever had to make. Yes, there have been some pretty tough choices I’ve had to make since then, but seriously, what the hell? Why would he call me at my job and offer me my old one back?
More importantly, what makes him think that I would come back?
Am I really so naïve that I’m just going to come crawling back to him?
I wonder what happened at SVCC. Something bad must have gone down for them to ask for me back. Tim doesn’t make apologies often, obviously, and I’ve never seen him call someone who quit before. So, I do the only reasonable thing I can do: I look up the school’s website.
I’m glad I’m not drinking coffee, because I would have just spit it all out.
The new website, the one I was originally in charge of, is now live. The design features frames, as well as several .gif images you’d expect to find on a website from the late 90s: not the mid 2010s.
I can’t help but wonder if this entire thing is a joke.
My cell phone still has the contact information for my old coworker, Nathan, so I give him a ring and hope he answers.
As luck would have it, he picks up on the first ring.
“Nathan speaking.”
“Nathan, it’s Charlotte.”
“Charlotte?!” He sounds excited to hear from me. “Oh, thank God. Are you coming back?”
“Uh, I’m not coming back, Nathan. I just called to find out what the hell is going on. I just checked my voicemail and Timothy wants me to take my old job back. What gives?”
“You gotta come back, Charlotte.”
“What’s going on?” I ask again, more persistent this time. He has to give me something. Anything.
With a sigh, he answers. “So Jason hired this new guy. He’s awful.”
“What do you mean?” My job was tricky, for sure, but to design something that hideous? That takes skill.
“I mean look at the site, Char. There’s a guestbook, for crying out loud! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a website with a guestbook?”
I bite back a laugh. It’s true. I haven’t seen a serious website with a guestbook in at least 10 years, maybe more. Probably more. Definitely more.
“Maybe he’s going for a retro look,” I offer up.
I picture Nathan shaking his head.
“No way. The guy’s not that smart. Anyway, students started complaining immediately. They completely took down student logins, so you can’t get online to check your grades anymore.”
“What!?” Now I’m the one who’s livid. “Do you know how long it took me to implement that system? What’s the point of calling yourself a ‘school on the cutting edge’ if you can’t even let your students get online to check their information?”
“I know,” Nathan agrees. “Well, the problem is this: everyone complained, everyone wrote letters, everyone called. Even parents called. Potential students, too. They all went nuts writing us hate mail and leaving comments in the guestbook that just said ‘lame’ or ‘penis.’” Seriously?
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me.”
“They want you to come back and clean up the mess.”
Ah. Now I get it.
It’s not that they need me: it’s that the new guy messed up.
It’s not that they miss having me around: it’s that the new guy made more work for them.
In another world, it would be easy for me to fall back into my old routine, but I’ve changed a lot in the month I’ve been gone. I’m not the same girl anymore. I’m not scared of making a mistake or pissing someone off. I’m not afraid of losing my job. I’m not afraid of being replaced.
I’m secure.
And I have an amazing boyfriend-slash-boss who happens to think I’m quite incredible right where I am.
I think about what my dad said, about me being unhappy. I realize now that he was right. Yeah, I had a regular paycheck, but my whole life was ordinary. It was plain. It was really boring. Now I have something else, something special.
Just as I’m about to give Nathan my answer, August walks in, affirming my decision. He doesn’t say anything. He just marches in with that swagger, that confidence, and leans against the doorframe like a teenage boy.
“Nathan, you can tell Tim to stop calling me. I’m not coming back.”
I don’t wait for an answer. I just hang up the phone and hop out of my chair.
“Important call?” August asks.
“They want me back at SVCC.”
“I know.”
He does?
“How do you know?” I ask him, placing my hands on his chest, not caring who sees. I push up on my toes so that I’m in his face. Our lips are only inches apart.
“They called me and asked me to release you from your position.”
Now that’s ballsy. Tim wasn’t sure that he’d be able to get me to quit, so he went behind my back and asked my boss? Did he really expect that August would just fire me? He knows we’re involved. Wait, maybe that’s it. Maybe he tried to use that to get August to let me go.
“August,” I ask seriously, almost not wanting to hear the response. “Did Timothy threaten to blackmail you?”
August nods, obviously not wanting to talk about it, but I pry further.
“And you didn’t give in?”
“He threatened to tell my dad that I was dating someone who worked for me.”
“What did you do?”
“I hung up the phone and called my father before Tim ever got the choice, Charlotte. I’m an adult in an adult relationship. It’s none of my dad’s business who I date, fuck, or fall in love
with, but if that’s the ‘bait’ that Tim is holding over my head, then he can go fuck himself.”
35
“Dinner tonight?” August asks me, still standing in my office, still looking amazing.
“Hmm,” I tap my index finger against my chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “I’m not sure. The only thing I want to eat tonight is you.” I lick my lips lasciviously, hoping I look sexy and not silly.
“You’ve tasted me quite a bite lately,” he grabs my waist and pulls me close. “Maybe it’s time you let me have a turn. I bet you're delicious.” He closes my office door with one hand while he grips my hair with the other, pulling my mouth into his. The kiss is deep and passionate, dark and needy.
He picks me up and carries me over to my desk. Pushing a stack of files out of the way, he places me there and smirks.
“Spread your legs.”
I dart my eyes toward the door, making sure no one is coming. We shouldn’t be interrupted. There’s no reason for us to be, not really. I’m pretty sure that most people are in meetings or sitting around counting the minutes until lunch, so we should be safe.
As August pushes my legs apart and pulls my panties down from under my skirt, I stop caring if we get caught. He tosses the thin scrap of pink lace aside and slides his tongue along my thigh. I arch my back, enjoying the sensation of his cool tongue against my flushed skin.
Oh yes.
This is what I’ve been missing.
He reaches the top of my thigh, then pulls back and starts licking at the opposite knee, making his way back up. It feels hot and dirty and slutty and magical all at the same time, all mixed into one emotion. This time, as he glides up my body, he doesn’t stop when he reaches the top of my thigh.
This time, he dives into my pussy.
August’s tongue slides over my slit, probing into my soft folds, licking me from top to bottom. I’ve been gone down on before, sure, but never like this. Not ever like this before. He continues to lick me until I’m dripping wet for him, dying to feel him inside of me.
