by Hazel Parker
The few buttons on her prim, little sweater were easily opened and discarded behind us. I pushed the straps of her dress down off her shoulders, letting it pool at her hips. Unclasping her bra with impatient fingers, no longer in the mood to play, I tossed it to the floor. I needed to see those beautiful tits.
Cupping them with both hands, I pressed a kiss to the underside of one, then the other, not leaving them until they were wet from my ministrations. I loved the weight of them, the soft smell of her skin, the way her hands fisted my hair, holding me to her chest. I glanced up to catch her watching me, bottom lip captured between her teeth. She was beautiful perfection like this, turned on, a little unsure, sexy as hell.
While my lips pulled at her nipples, I ran my hands down her sides, pushing her dress down until it fell away from her body. Pressing one more kiss to her tits, I straightened and lifted her up to me. Instinctively her legs wrapped around my waist, her mouth hot and impatient against mine. I groaned when I felt her nails dig into my shoulders, her legs tightening around me as she ground her sweet pussy against me.
I walked through my office door and lowered us to the couch. Macy’s warm body pressed hard against mine and the desire to feel her, skin on skin, was overwhelming. But for now I would have to settle for what little contact I could have. Her fingers were at the button of my pants and I relinquished my hold on her to help push them down my hips and free my cock.
I ran my hands over her body one more time, ripe and soft, before settling them on her hips. My thumb grazed her sensitive flesh, the tight bundle of nerves that made her writhe against my hold and let go the most wicked sounds. I pulled aside the flimsy, lace barrier, feeling her slickness on my fingers.
With a growl, Macy reached between us and took my hard length in her hand. I smiled at her impatience, her need. She settled herself over my length and closed her tight heat around me. We both breathed out a moan, relief and pleasure washing through me. I held her to me, only for a moment, savoring the feel of her, before giving over the control to her.
And then it was only the soft, suckling sound of her wet skin grinding against mine, the sound of her breath coming in jags, the sight of her unravelling above me. Bracing herself on my shoulders, she fucked me with an urgency, a passion and emotion that no one else had ever given me.
She overwhelmed me, her soft breasts brushing against my chest and the smell of her excitement surrounding me. I closed my eyes and turned my head into the warmth of her neck, holding onto her and onto the desire for things to stay like this between us always. And then she was leaning into me, pressing her perfect, soft sounds against my ear, telling me that it was good and that she was close.
I could feel the ache build behind my navel and spin downward until I was wild. Hands braced around her, I fucked her earnestly. When her soft whispers turned hungry, unintelligible, I pulled her down my length harder until I felt her unravel against me. I ground against her, the tension in me building until it snapped and I was coming with a sharp groan.
When the last strands of ecstasy left out bodies Macy collapsed against me, head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around her body and let our breathing slow. The room was quiet, Macy motionless on me, and I relished the stillness of the moment. I wanted to give her so much more than this. She deserved more than a stolen moment at work and a drawer in my dresser.
A moment later, and far sooner than I would have liked, she stirred against me.
“You probably have to get going if you want to make your meeting this afternoon,” she said, her voice thick, sleepy.
I groaned. I’d nearly forgotten about that and now that I was here with my arms around her, I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want reality seeping in just yet, the solidity I felt to start slipping through my fingers. But until I could convince her otherwise, this was the best I was going to get.
“I shouldn’t be gone too long. Will you still be here when I get back?”
“I don’t think so. I have to meet with the caterers this afternoon to finalize things for the weekend, and I’ll probably just head home from there. Unless there’s something else that needs to be done here?”
“No, I think we’re all caught up here. Are you okay to get home?”
“Yes,” she laughed at me. “I’m quite capable of getting to my own apartment.”
“Why not just stay at my place? It’s closer.”
She sat up and fixed me with her dark-blue eyes.
“Because that’s where I live. And besides, you’re going out tonight.”
She gave me a pointed look and I chose to not pursue the conversation. I was too persistent, and she was too stubborn for both of our own goods. We’d shared almost everything for the last few months, but there were still some things she was clinging to, like her tiny apartment.
Guilt gnawed at me and, not for the first time, I wondered if she held back because she could sense that I was holding something back too. I pulled her back against me for a little longer before reality came crashing in.
****
After wrapping up my meeting, I headed back to the office. It was empty, as expected; I found myself disappointed all the same. With nothing but time on my hands until I met up with Micah, I shuffled through the documents on my desk and through the emails I’d missed, but my focus was gone. Finally, I abandoned work and settled for pacing instead. By the time I was heading down to my car again, I had only succeeded in wearing the carpet and my nerves a little thinner.
Usually meeting Micah was something I looked forward to, but this time I was dreading it. I already knew he was going to give me shit for suggesting we meet at a bar instead of my place. And I already knew how this conversation, the one I’d been putting off for a while now, would go. Which was the main reason we weren’t meeting at my place. I needed him to hear me out and I figured this was my best chance.
Micah and me went way back. Back to our foster days, living in a little hovel and learning to care for ourselves. Care for each other. And we always had.
Against the odds, we’d made it out in one piece and made something of ourselves. Not without some struggles, of course, but it was with the reassurance that no matter what happened, we had someone on our side. Not our abusive fathers, or junkie mothers, or the foster parents who would rather spend money on scratch tickets than feed us. Just us.
There was a time when I thought that was all I’d ever need: the trust and companionship of Micah and the knowledge that my determination wouldn’t let us fail. We learned how to love and be loved, learned that sometimes people don’t always leave. Don’t always disappoint. Had I never met Macy, I would’ve been happy with that life. But I did meet her, so unexpected and so sweet that she blindsided me.
I still held out hope that he would understand. It’s not like he was a heartless prick, and it’s not like we hadn’t both slept with women, sometimes sharing them, sometimes not. I’ve even had a steady girlfriend once or twice. This wasn’t so different. Other than I wanted to be with Macy for the long haul. How was I going to explain that to him, though? And how was I going to talk to Micah when I could still smell Macy on me?
Shit. This was going to get worse before it got better.
I pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine, leaving the sanctity of my car behind. I walked into the old bar and took a minute to let my eyes adjust to the darkness. The place was a shit hole. Scarred-up, wood floors, dusty, neon beer signs, dim lights strung over the tables. This place was far from the familiarity of my place. Neutral territory.
It was mostly empty, except for a couple guys at the bar and the clack of pool balls coming from the back. I ordered a couple beers and found a booth away from the few patrons there. Before I even settled into my seat, I heard the door creak open and Micah’s heavy footsteps on the floor. Seeing him still brought a sense of relief, even if it was buried under a layer of nerves.
He sat with no preamble and I wasn’t surprised. Micah wasn’t the type to make a grand entrance. He
came, he went.
“Good to see you, man,” I said from across the table.
He grabbed his beer and leaned back against the worn, vinyl booth. “Yeah. It’s good to be back. Seems I’m away longer every time.”
“You know you don’t have to stay at a hotel, right? You’ve been living out of that hotel in San Diego for months. Plenty of room at my place.”
Micah nodded and took a pull from his beer.
“So why the fuck are we here?” he asked.
“I wanted to grab a beer. Catch up,” I said, hoping I sounded convincing. Hoping to ease into this, segue from a safer topic.
“Fuck off, Brenn. I had a long flight and an even longer day. If you really just wanted to grab a beer in this dive, then fine, but if you’ve got something to say, then just say it.”
My fingers picked at the label on my bottle. I blew out a breath before looking up at him.
“You’re right, I do need to talk to you about something.” He watched me, reading me. My eyes flickered away from the intensity of his stare, back to the shards of label on the table. “About Macy.”
“Your assistant?” he asked, his voice not giving anything away except mild irritation.
“Yeah.” I scrubbed my hand across my chin. “We’ve been seeing each other.”
Micah sat back against the bench, mouth pulled up in a half smile. “Ah fuck, you’re killing me over here, man. You drag me to this shitty bar, you’re sweating bullets over there, and all to tell me you’re banging the office girl? Jesus.”
“You make it sound so cheap,” I said, the simplicity riling me. “And she’s not an office girl.”
“You’re still her boss, right?”
“Yeah.”
“There you go. May as well call it like it is.” Micah reached for his beer and tipped it back, his eyes still watching me.
“That’s not how it is,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. I had to make him understand. “We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now.”
“And?” Micah shrugged a shoulder.
“And it’s getting pretty serious. Or at least I want it to, except there’s this giant part of my life that I’m keeping from her. And from you.”
Understanding flickered across his features, just long enough for me to notice before it was masked.
“I see. You’re cutting the cord, then?” His cool tone betraying the hostility underneath.
“No. I’m not. I’m just trying to explain.”
“Call it like it is. To be honest, I figured this day would come eventually, when what we had wouldn’t be enough.”
“Hear me out, Mic,” I said, stopping him before he got the idea to take off. The contempt in his eyes told me that I had some work to do if I wanted him to give this crazy idea a try. “When I first started fooling around with Macy, it was like any other time. But things have changed. I want more with her, and with you.”
“What kind of more?” The words formed around a sneer, like a bad taste in his mouth.
I didn’t bother answering. This was an argument we’d had before and one I didn’t think would help me now. Micah thought that coming from the shit we came from made it real hard to want to create a life with a commitment attached. But it was all bullshit. There was a commitment between us deeper than any ceremony could provide. He was just too hard-headed to ever admit it. Too scared to try.
But I would never give him up for anything, or make him choose. And I was hoping like hell he would do the same for me.
“I want you to meet her.”
He didn’t answer right away, didn’t look at me. His eyes scanned the room and his fingers drummed against the edge of the table.
“She know about me?” he asked after a moment.
“She knows we’re business partners,” I said. “And that we grew up together.”
He blew out a heavy breath. “What are you hoping will come out of this, Brenn?”
“I don’t fucking know, Mic. But I have to try and let her see this side of me if I have any chance of making it work. I don’t want any secrets. Between any of us.”
He shook his head and lifted his beer to his lips, draining it.
“You’re fucking crazy.”
MICAH
When I woke the next morning, the sun was already high, beating against the curtains and making the room too hot. I opened my eyes to the ceiling of my hotel room. Not where I was expecting to end up last night. Not until a lot later anyways.
Fucking Brenn.
I rolled over in bed and checked my phone. I had missed a few texts from him asking if I wanted to meet for lunch? Come over for drinks before the gala? Ride over together?
I ignored them.
The one thing I thought I could count on was about to go tits up, all because of a pair of tits. I was getting too old to worry about this shit. I spent enough of my twenties battling the voice in my head, the voice of my father specifically, and the shit he’d spew if he ever knew about Brenn and me. Took a lot of years to get that voice out of my head, to be comfortable in my own skin—to be comfortable anywhere. I’d be damned if I was going to let Brenn’s woman throw a wrench in that.
I closed my eyes, hoping I could block out the sound of hope in Brenn’s voice. It didn’t help. The acid in my belly churned, the sour expectation turning vile. And as much as I wanted to be pissed at him, the pang of guilt ate at me more. It’s not like I never thought about having what he wants: someone who loved me because of who I am and not because of what I came from.
And if the roles were reversed, I knew he would try to understand. I owed it to him to try. We were too close, had made it too far together to let someone get in the way. Even if that someone was me.
I knew that if I told Brenn he had to choose, he would choose me, but that’s not how I wanted things to go down. That’s the kind of shit move that could do more damage than good. I would meet her. Absolutely I would. Didn’t mean I wanted any part of their forever bullshit. And that sure as hell didn’t mean I would make it easy for her.
I killed as much time as I could showering, getting a bite to eat, getting dressed, but it still left me with way too much time to think. As much as I hated these corporate functions, I actually found myself counting down the hours to the gala and the distraction it would provide.
Finally, evening rolled around, and as I walked through the doors of the banquet suite, I figured it was probably the first time I ever showed up to one of these things on time. I hoped Brenn wouldn’t read too much into that but, judging by the surprise registering on his face, he was. The wait staff outnumbered the guests at this point and I immediately regretted not waiting longer before I came.
Brenn was busy playing his role, so I found the closest bar, then the quietest corner. Even though I was co-owner of the company, my job took me away from here often and sometimes for long stretches of time. Not many people knew me to look at me, and so I was mostly left to myself through the rest of cocktails and during the speeches.
Once the room began to move again after speeches, Brenn made his way over to me. My eyes ran down the auburn-haired woman on his arm, and if I hadn’t been so concerned about being royally fucked I would have laughed at how well I knew Brenn. She had Brenn’s type written all over her.
Her long hair was down and it curled along her back. I could picture Brenn wrapping it around his hand, bending her back to meet his lips. Her body was lithe with the kind of long legs that were made for wrapping around your body. Her scent drifted to me, feminine and sweet. Brenn’s woman.
But when my eyes moved down from her luscious chest and I was faced with the slight protrusion at her belly, I felt a pang go through me. Fucking Brenn.
“I’m glad you came,” he said as we shook hands.
“You thought I wouldn’t?” I tried to sound normal. Tried to convince him, and me, that he didn’t just put me in a shitty position. The raised eyebrow I got in return made me think I hadn’t done a good job of it.
&
nbsp; “Could have returned my texts.”
“I was too busy. But I’m here now.”
“Hello, Mr. Merrill,” his woman said from his side. “We’ve spoken over the phone dozens of times, but I was looking forward to meeting you in person.”
When she put out her hand, I almost hesitated. Like touching her would make this all the more real. I shook her hand, though, and even though it was small in mine and her smile was genuine, the blood racing through me was like an alarm, warning me against impending danger.
Brenn’s arms were looped around her waist. His hands had settled over her stomach. She was saying something again. I watched her lips move, but the blood rushing past my ears was making it too hard for me to hear her.
