Playing With Fire (Sweet Redemption)

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Playing With Fire (Sweet Redemption) Page 8

by Francis, Rose


  “But in a way, didn’t you let some man do that to you again? What about your father? Didn’t you give up things for him?”

  Janet suddenly felt struck, hurt. She knew he didn’t mean to send a missile, but one had found her with his words.

  She realized she had fooled herself into thinking she had done everything since that time in her life for herself.

  “What did you major in for example?” Eric continued. “Is that what you wanted?”

  “Accounting. And no—you’re right. I did it to prepare myself for working with my dad’s company.”

  “So what did you really want to do?”

  “It would have been liberal arts all the way I figure—the Humanities. I minored in Education because that was one way I could see myself helping kids. And I’d thought briefly about social work. Anyway, my dad only had me left so I didn’t have much choice. He was relying on me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, my parents adopted a little boy when I was thirteen, and by the time I was in college, my brother was dead. Some teenager ran him over while texting and driving—my brother had run across the road to retrieve a ball. He was nine at the time. I think that was the beginning of the end for my parents—things weren’t the same. They divorced by the time I was out of college, and I think in a way my dad blamed my mom. Then when she died of cancer two years after they divorced, I don’t think he ever got over it. I generally didn’t see him much growing up, but after coming back home, he encouraged me to go back out there and get my master’s. I had applied to a few places anyway, and with his legacy, got in a program easily. Anyway, I learned a bit about the foster care system because of my brother and I’ve always loved kids and I’ve always wanted to find a way to help them so that’s what my ‘secret’ project is about.”

  When she looked up at him, Eric looked like he wanted to hug her and her heart fluttered again.

  On to a lighter subject.

  ***

  “I’m getting another room,” Janet said as they headed back to their suite after relaxing and chatting about work in the hot tub.

  It had been too much—going back to the room after lunch to change into beachwear, and finally seeing his beautiful chest and strong legs in a pair of swimming trunks—her brain could think of nothing but sex. She was on day thirty-seven without it after all; she couldn’t think straight.

  “Okay...” he said, drawing the word out in a way that made it seem like she had said something crazy to him.

  “I mean the king-sized bed is of course big enough for both of us, and we’d have plenty of space in between—but it’s just so wildly inappropriate, know what I mean?”

  She looked up at him to see his expression.

  He shrugged, his face unreadable.

  “I’m not a bell hop so feel free to pack up and take off wherever you feel is appropriate,” he said.

  Janet felt stung.

  Still, he had let it go too easily, and she felt herself go on guard yet didn’t know what to expect.

  When they entered the room, she realized Eric had the same look on his face as he did the last time she saw him in her office.

  He was breathing quicker than usual, and his blood had come to the surface, his face hardened.

  She had angered him.

  Still, he said nothing as she went about the room, gathering her things and packing them up.

  Then she went to the phone to dial the front desk and make the room change request.

  As she brought the receiver to her ear, she saw a masculine hand come over the phone, finger holding down the little plunger, preventing her from dialing out.

  “You try to control everything, but you haven’t learned you can’t,” Eric said, and it sounded as if it had come through gritted teeth.

  He took the receiver from her and put that down too, then turned her around to face him.

  “Sometimes you have to just go with the flow.”

  Janet felt herself getting weak.

  Was it pheromones?

  What was it about this man in particular that made her lose her senses? Her resolve?

  She became suddenly aware of his superior strength and the bed right next to them and spun away in the other direction, taking a few steps back, her heart pounding.

  Then to her surprise, her legs flew out from underneath her, and she realized she had tripped over her suitcase.

  What is this—a horror movie? she thought, mad that people actually stumbled over things fear blinded them to in real life.

  She used her elbows to clear the suitcase, dragging her legs over it, then was about to turn and get herself up when Eric took the opportunity to join her on the ground, his body covering hers.

  “Do you understand how real power works?” he said, and she barely heard him over her pounding heart.

  Her brain had fogged, the weight of his body over hers paralyzing her.

  It was the helplessness that was the problem. She felt helpless in his presence—couldn’t overpower him in any possible way. All her body wanted to do was give in to him, and she knew the harder she fought against it, the more she’d lose because she figured actually being overpowered and having her weakness proven would be more devastating than just surrendering; after all, in a surrender, you have not been proven the weaker, have not been humiliated by someone else’s arsenal. In a surrender, there is always the what if?, the possibility, no matter how small, that things could have gone differently had you fought. That you could have won.

  There was dignity in surrender.

  But in a battle viciously lost, you are proven to be the weaker, and such an event worms its way into the psyche.

  But how could one resist a fight? It was thrilling, exciting—especially when you know you’ll probably lose.

  Janet fruitlessly tried to push Eric off of her and didn’t budge him.

  “Sorry, Janet—I’ve already made my decision.”

  “W-what do you mean?”

  “Run away all you want, but I’ll give you something to remember me by.”

  Janet realized after a few seconds she had sucked in her breath and hadn’t let it back out.

  Even if she could summon up the strength to get more words past her mouth, she didn’t want to bother spending energy asking him a useless question—it was obvious what he meant.

  Besides, she ran out of time as his lips found hers, and the feel of them made her accept him willingly.

  When he started nibbling her neck, it gave her the opportunity to mumble:

  “Eric...please...”

  “Please what?” he said breathlessly.

  The sound of his voice sent a current of desire through her for he had spoken right into her ear, his lips touching it while his labored voice sent desire up her spine.

  She had forgotten what she wanted to say, if anything.

  Her breathing quickened, and she felt herself losing a battle she no longer cared about.

  It was useless to resist anyway—she knew if she pretended she wanted to try to halt him, he would mock her in some way, and she would end up feeling even more powerless.

  Plus, fighting was one thing. Begging was another.

  Janet would prefer to fight and lose, than beg and lose, and right now, she preferred not to fight at all.

  She couldn’t pinpoint when it all happened, but with so little on in the first place, they were both naked in no time, and she was keenly aware of his body over hers again, at the lining up of their throbbing parts.

  His hands ran up and down her arms, her thighs, driving her crazy, and she wondered if he would give her the full seduction treatment, delaying what she wanted right now with foreplay.

  She didn’t feel like having more delays—his seduction of her had been set in motion a long time ago and she was more than ready for him.

  Luckily, it was as if he’d read her mind, and he positioned himself to enter her.

  The sound of her own moans registered to her ears as she waited for
him, but he had paused, and she felt him staring at her face. When she finally looked into his sapphire eyes, he plunged into her.

  She cried out in pleasure and grabbed onto him, her hands moving from his shoulder to his arm, to his back, then to his rising and falling buttocks as she held on for the ride.

  They kissed each other hungrily, and the pleasure of their long-awaited consummation and their perfect physical fit welled up in her.

  She climaxed before him, but he wasn’t far behind, and as they lay there panting next to each other, his arm slung across her, Janet enjoyed the afterglow.

  After several minutes had gone by, Janet suddenly felt stupid, aware of him still inside of her.

  She hadn’t thought about safety once since meeting him, and she wondered about it now—too late.

  She realized he had been careless too.

  “You know, you could’ve gotten me pregnant. Did you think about that?” she asked lightly.

  “I don’t care,” she thought she heard him whisper, but couldn’t be sure with the way he was breathing and the way her brain kept playing tricks on her.

  “I’m clean,” he said, addressing her unspoken question. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  She let out a breath.

  “So am I. On the pill too, so no worries.”

  She smiled shyly up at him.

  He reached over and grabbed her closer to him, holding her tight.

  “Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” he said, and Janet had to do everything in her power not to cry. She couldn’t even think about the implications of his statement—her mind was already too overwhelmed.

  The moment she looked into his eyes before he entered her, she knew she was lost to him, that wherever he wanted to go she’d follow him, and nothing mattered to her now in the moments after but his arms around her. She realized she needed those arms accessible to her every day from now on.

  She quieted her mind by deeply breathing in his scent.

  He kissed her forehead tenderly, lips lingering.

  I love you, she wanted to say but knew she couldn’t, and the strangulation of those words was what made tears finally fall.

  She felt his hand rub her back as she cried into his chest, and she appreciated that he silently let her cry while holding her like he didn’t want to let go.

  ***

  Janet’s eyes fluttered open as she felt something was off. Then she realized Eric had somehow scooped her up off of the floor and was just about to lay her on the bed.

  “Figured this would be cozier,” he said, climbing in next to her.

  He held her again, and she found herself drifting back into sleep.

  She awoke again a few hours later, startled, trying to figure out where she was. Then she remembered and saw Eric sleeping beside her and tenderly ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair. He stirred, but didn’t wake up.

  She looked at the room clock: eight twenty-three p.m.

  Her stomach stirred, but dinner was the last thing on her mind.

  She took the quiet moment to examine Eric—his beautiful chiseled face relaxed in sleep, the strong cheekbones, the masculine planes of his jaw, his arrogant nose, his sensually inviting lips. She continued assessing him—the biceps and sinews of his arms that didn’t relax, even in sleep, and the hard curves and planes of his firm chest and muscled abs.

  Her eyes travelled further down and she marveled at his sleep-erection, fighting the desire to close her mouth over it and stimulate him awake.

  She wanted to sit on it, ride him like a cowgirl, feel what it was like to have him inside of her again.

  Her eyes made their way down his strong legs, and when they made their way back to his face, she was startled to find his blue eyes staring back at her, open and aware, looking like captured oceans.

  He grabbed her and turned on his back, inviting her to do exactly what she had just fantasized about not a minute before.

  She smiled as she positioned herself over him and as a slight tease, kept him just at her entrance as she used her fingers to pleasure herself, pausing briefly to rub his tip on her moistened parts.

  He didn’t let her keep it up for long, grabbing her by the waist and bringing her down on him, thrusting deep into her.

  ***

  When Janet’s eyes fluttered open again she could feel the morning upon them.

  She reached out for Eric and panicked a bit when she felt him gone.

  “How appropriate,” she heard him say, then turned toward his voice to find him boldly scrutinizing her naked body.

  Her sleepy brain had trouble processing his meaning.

  He came over to the bed and slid next to her.

  “Happy Birthday Janet,” he said smiling, using his thumb to caress her cheek.

  She smiled back at him, joy surging through her.

  Then she noticed the room service cart and her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day. And after their sex marathon, she needed the nourishment.

  It didn’t really matter what was on those trays, but the omelette, sausages and fruits she spotted looked good.

  Janet decided to think of nothing else—what any of it meant, what they now were. She decided to just live in the moment and let herself be happy.

  Days of sightseeing and adventure awaited them.

  ***

  As the trip winded down and they returned to their suite, Linda found herself burdened with thoughts of their return trip the next day, feeling sick to her stomach about leaving their carefree days behind.

  There was no going back to the way things were—no more pretending there was nothing between them to the people who worked around them.

  “The other night,” he said softly, startling her out of her thoughts, “the first night—why were you crying?”

  Janet suppressed panic and racked her brain for a response.

  “Oh, it was nothing. Silly really. I felt like a failure is all—you know I had this stupid abstinence goal and I totally failed in...”

  “Give me a break Janet—no one cries over something like that.”

  “Well, if you’re serious about proving something to yourself and you fail miserably, then you do feel distraught. Heck, since you seem to know everything, then you tell me why I was crying. You know better, right?”

  “Oh, I know all about you Janet. You think you’re so powerful, so untouchable. You’ve been so protected for so long by your father’s influences and money, and I know the Ivy League education afforded you empowered you further. I know you probably studied hard, determined to prove yourself worthy of the empire being built in your father’s name.”

  His voice became gentle.

  “I know the last time you felt powerless was probably at your mother’s side, when you realized neither your father’s money nor influence could rid her body of the cancer that ate it, and for that I am sorry.”

  He paused before continuing.

  “I know your past several boyfriends were able to make you feel like superwoman, like you could take on the world and that no man will take you down since you never let yourself get into them since that first one you told me about. But I can take you down Janet, and you know it. And I know part of that power is that you didn’t give it to me, nor can you take it away. I know you know that real power is influence, and that I’ve got it over you in spades.”

  “Okay, let’s not get crazy here—I had a great time with you, but it can’t continue. It just can’t logically continue...”

  “Janet, what is wrong with you? Stop getting in your own way! This is real,” he said, stopping and holding her in place so that she stopped walking too. He stepped even closer to her and grabbed her hands. “What we have between us is real.”

  He bent down to kiss her softly, then his kiss became almost pleading.

  The warmth of his hand, his mouth, his chest was undeniable. Everything coursing through her at his nearness, and even when he was nowhere near her and she was jus
t thinking about him—was undeniable.

  Surrender was undeniable.

  CHAPTER EIGHT: DITCHING DEADWEIGHT

  Janet now understood fully why relationships at work were not only discouraged, but grounds for termination for one of the parties involved—Eric was a constant distraction.

  Her efficiency had decreased as thoughts of him working so near her consumed her, and they had had more than their share of using her office to indulge their mutual desire, sliding the ‘Meeting in Session’ bar in place at least once every two days.

  All the excuses they found to see each other, all the calls made—it was all shamelessly done on company time.

  She couldn’t get enough of him, and no longer denied to herself what she really wanted.

  Still, she feared telling him how she felt, even though she thought she saw the same in his soft, blue eyes.

  She didn’t want to discover he was still teeter-tottering on an edge while she had already fallen off of it and into the deep—she didn’t want to find herself swimming in a sea of the unknown alone.

  Best to just wait it out.

  One of her mistakes with the guy who broke her heart was telling him she loved him first.

  She wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

  ***

  Eric was running out of time.

  He had had four months to get Janet to fall in love with him, and while he had no doubt she was putty in his hands, he hadn’t sealed the deal.

  The problem was that it was no longer a business deal to him, far from a passionless assignment—he felt keenly the gravity of the situation, his heart heavily invested in her response to his true desire.

  If she said no to his marriage proposal, he’d be more than crushed.

  What if he had misread her? What if she truly had no wish to be hitched to him and her weakness for him was still only sexual?

  Eric knew he was being irrational and worried for no good reason. He knew she had feelings for him, but had he done enough to make her give everything up? Had he done enough for her to say yes to him?

  When they were in Fiji, he had seen her eyes soften with sympathy when he talked about the car crash that killed his parents and the resulting move to San Diego to live with his barely-accessible uncle.

 

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