by Clara Moore
But then I came across the laptop. I knew I shouldn’t have, but when Mike stopped haranguing me for the daily sex he apparently needed to function, I got a little suspicious. I tried to push my irrational fears from my head- after all, when did he have the time to go out and cheat on me? But when I noticed that he’d left his Facebook open, I glanced around the room and quickly clicked on his messages- and there it was.
Weeks and weeks of messages from her-some woman called Tanya, a dark-haired, curvy vixen. I tried not to hate her- it wasn’t just her fault. My dumb-ass son-of-a-bitch husband had been the one cheating on his wife. But I couldn’t help wanting to direct all my rage at her, to hold her up as a man-stealing jezebel, just because it would make facing the next few months that much easier. But in the end, I knew who I needed to confront, and it wasn’t Facebook Tanya with her flirty messages and explicit pictures. It was Mike.
When he walked back into the room, he took one look at my face and practically crumpled away. He knew what this was about. I got it out of him almost immediately- that he’d met her through work, and they’d got back in contact the previous summer. They’d started flirting in January, and fucking in March. I asked him if they ever did it in my house, and he said no, but I could tell he was lying. The thought of my sacred space being violated like that made me feel ill.
I didn’t love him, not by then. But that didn’t make the break-up any easier. My pride was shattered, my ego ruined by the knowledge that this man had chosen someone else over me. I spent weeks home alone, trying to reconstruct what was left of my self-esteem-sitting in front of the mirror, brushing out my shoulder-length blonde hair, slicking bright lipsticks across my small mouth and posing this way and that. I could see that I was objectively attractive, but that didn’t take any of the sting out of not being desired any more.
So there I was, dropped straight back on to the single pile at thirty-three. I threw myself into work, spending longer days at the office so I could fill my time with something and not dwell over my action plan of finding someone new. I knew what I wanted, and it wasn’t a relationship. It was a fuck. A hard, fast, fuck. I wanted to prove to Mike that I was over him and that I could do better than him, and I wanted to do it with someone hotter than him.
I pondered over my predicament while I sat in my office, sipping from a mug of coffee and looking over the to-do list for the week. I heard a noise outside the glass of the office walls, and glanced up- and a pair of bright blue eyes looked straight back into mine. My heart flipped in my chest, and something clicked in my brain. I think I might have found the guy who was going to introduce me back to the world of dirty sex.
I had known Patrick Young for three years now, ever since I was on the board that hired him straight out of college. He was smart, funny, and would occasionally linger in my office a little too long to chat or share a joke or talk over whatever manuscript he’d been flicking through that morning. And sure, I had certainly noticed that he was damned cute. He was short, around my height, with dark stubble and mess of black hair, the kind of hipster intellectual look that I would have thrown myself at in college. And now that I was single again, there was no reason for me not to relive a few of my college fantasies, no?
I gestured for him to come in, and he opened the door and plunked himself down in the chair opposite mine.
“So, what can I do for you today, Patrick?” I grinned, looking up at him as I ran one hand through my blown-out hair (hey, when you pay for your hair to look this good, you want people to notice).
“Not much, I was just wondering if you’d received my notes on the Franklin book. I sent them down a few days ago and I hadn’t heard anything back, so…” He shuffled in his seat, no doubt aware that the intensity of my look meant exactly what he thought it did.
“Yeah, I’ve got them right here,” I replied, rustling in my desk drawer. “I’ve just been organizing the launch party for Grace Vickers’ second release, and I want to make sure it’s perfect.”
He pulled a face at me teasingly. “You? Wanting perfection? I never would have guessed.”
I laughed. He was so easy to be around, and even now I was fighting my brain’s urge to fantasize about what his stubble would feel like between my thighs. “Whatever. I’ve just been in a lot recently, and the thought of going to an actual, bonafide social event sounds like the break I’ve been looking for.”
“Oh? So what lucky man’s going as your date?” Patrick had known about the divorce from the start, but this was one of the first times he’d addressed the issue of my continuing singledom out loud. Good to know he was thinking about it.
I cocked my head at him and leant back from the table, crossing my legs as I did so that my bare knee poked out underneath my smart skirt. “Don’t have one, yet. Got any nice, eligible young men for me to meet?”
Patrick paused, as if distracted by the look in my eye. His gaze drifted briefly down to my leg, before he seemed to shake himself and direct his attention at my face. “None that I can think of. Unless you’d be keen on any of my authors?”
“You know that I don’t date anyone who works in the creative industries, Pat. I’m far too much of a corporate drone for that, according to every musician I slept with in college,” I rolled my eyes. “Couldn’t you join me? There’s free champagne, and we get a taxi there and back from the office. Could be fun.”
His eyes dropped down to his lap. “I actually have a…thing on that night.”
“What are you up to?”
“I have an engagement party,” he mumbled. “Me and Rita…we kind of got engaged over the weekend.”
“What?” I’d known that Patrick had been dating some girl named Rita on and off for the last year or so, but I also knew that she’d cheated on him repeatedly, and got insanely jealous over any of his contact with other women-including me. “How will she deal with the fact you’re sitting in here, discussing this with me? If she’s able to get a break from sleeping with all your friends, that is.”
He winced. Damn. Maybe that had been too harsh. But I was annoyed. I wanted this guy, and I couldn’t, in good faith, try and get with him while he was engaged to someone else.
“You know, she just really wanted to settle down, so she thought-“
“She thought?” I raised my eyebrows. “Did you actually have any input in this, Pat?”
“Sort of.”
“How much?”
“I paid for the ring.” He looked up at me, and I could see the fear of someone who knows they’ve made a great big mistake jumping through his eyes.
“Patrick, sweetie, if you don’t want to marry her, you’ve got to break it off before the engagement party. Because after that, people are gonna know you guys are together, and you’ll have to break up with all of them too.” I shook my head, remembering the hoops I had to jump through to get people to remember that no, Mike and I weren’t together any more. “Trust me, as someone who’s been there, don’t do it unless you’re one hundred percent sure.”
He didn’t take his eyes off mine, a resigned look crossing his face. “Yeah. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”
“Make sure you do,” I nodded. “After all, who else will take me to the ball?”
He rolled his eyes at me, managing a short laugh. “Oh, Kelly, I’m sure you’ll find somebody. Nice young woman like you shouldn’t be short on Prince Charmings.”
“I’ll keep you updated,” I grinned back, trying to disguise my disappointment at his announcement. Damn it all if I didn’t have kind of a crush on one of my underlings. I wriggled in my seat, re-adjusting myself, and trying to ignore the needy pressure that had begun to build between my legs. God, only a whole day left at work before I could go home and spend the afternoon with my vibrator.
But I had to get through that whole day first. So I set about placing calls, organizing caterers and invitations, and focused on making the most kick-ass launch party ever. I really liked working with Grace Vickers; she wrote sci-fi novels with a subversive fe
minist edge, and she’d rocketed us up high in the national consciousness with her first release. I still remembered flicking through the first draft of Opalfruit, knowing in my bones that we had struck on to a winner and that we needed to snap her up now if we were going to get her at all. Hanging out with her at the party would be reason enough to organize it, so I wanted to make sure every single detail would be perfect. After all, part of my job was to guide clueless authors through the real-world process of publishing, promoting, and selling a book.
But I had other things to do. My day was structured around a long meeting with Harry Bale, one of our biggest investors in the company, a billionaire a few years older than me who had taken a liking to our release list and decided to “get in on the ground floor of a good thing”, as he put it. Truth be told, I had always had a little bit of a crush on Harry, but I didn’t think he would look twice at a woman like me. He probably spent his time hanging out with twenty-something supermodels. Probably on a yacht. Probably somewhere far, far away from my grey office.
It was the first time we’d met since the divorce, as he wanted to come in and talk to me about the next year’s releases, to have a look over what we were planning to publish. He was pretty knowledgeable about books, so I liked sharing my passion with him, but he was usually pretty uptight and always seemed to be in a hurry. Nonetheless, I was looking forward to getting the chance to stare blatantly at my handsome older man for a while. He was good-looking in that old-fashioned, Hollywood-star kind of way, with a strong jaw and close-cropped dark hair that made his hazel eyes glow. The complete opposite to Patrick, maybe he was what I would need to distract myself from striking out so dramatically that morning.
When he arrived, bang on three, I was already standing up behind my desk, fluffing my hair and plastering a big grin on my face. No need to make the big man feel like he wasn’t wanted now, was there? He opened the door and walked in, matching my grin, and extended his hand.
“Kelly Holmes. Always a pleasure.”
“Not Holmes any more,” I corrected him, sitting down. “I got divorced.”
“Oh?” His ears seemed to prick up with interest. Why did he care so much?
“Yeah, a couple of months ago. I’ve been focusing on work since then, so I’ve got lots to tell you about our new releases…” I went into my drawer, shuffling around papers to find our schedules, when I felt his eyes boring into me. I stopped what I was doing and looked up at him.
“Everything okay, Harry?”
“Yes, I’m just…surprised that a woman like you would be single for more than a few seconds at a time,” he murmured. His soft tone sent a shiver down my spine; damn, was he flirting with me?
“Maybe I’ve just decided that I don’t want to date anyone right now,” I shot back. I was a little annoyed at his assumption.
“I suppose you might have.” He nodded.
“I’m perfectly self-sufficient, thanks very much,” I replied brusquely, even though a spark of interest had shot through my body. Did he want me? I knew that I wanted him, and that there wouldn’t be anyone more impressive to show off than a hot, mega-rich bachelor.
“I’m sure you are,” he smiled, allowing his gaze to drift down to the shirt I’d unconsciously unbuttoned a notch before he arrived. Ugh, I couldn’t have made it more obvious that I wanted him. All I had to do now was chew seductively on a pen and lean across the desk and I would be living out every dumb office-porn cliché in the book. But something about his suggestive talk, and the chemistry that had suddenly crackled into life between us, made me want to embrace those tropes and go for it.
“So, shall we look over the schedule?” I asked, trying to shake those thoughts from my head. Those were not things I needed to have clouding my judgment when I was in a meeting with one of our major investors.
“Of course,” Harry nodded, shifting his chair closer to mine. “Do you mind if I pull the blinds shut? There’s some glare coming in from outside.”
I nodded, and he reached over and tugged at the pull string, covering all the windows immediately. We were alone in our own little cocoon, and I glanced at him sideways as he walked back over to me.
“There, that’s better, isn’t it?” He smiled as he placed himself down opposite me again, reaching over to pick up his copy of the schedule. “So, what have you got on offer for us today?”
His knee brushed up against my bare leg, and I felt my breath catch in my mouth. Oh, it was difficult to fight the temptation to slide my hand up his thigh and grip at the erection I could just picture growing beneath his pants. I wondered if he was aware of the effect he was having on me; the answer was probably yes, judging by the way he was looking at my face, as if reading if for signals.
“Um,” I swallowed, trying to regain my composure once again. “We’ve got Grace’s release, which is coming out next week- we’ve got the launch party on Saturday…and you can see we’re trying to pick up the pace with new releases by signing on a couple of new editors.”
“Yes, that’s a good plan, expand your genres a little,” he replied nonchalantly. “You know, I’ve heard that erotica is doing very well at the moment. Perhaps you should consider publishing some of that.”
“E-erotica?” I stuttered. “What…kind of erotica?”
His voice lowered again, and he leaned closer, his knee pressing harder into my leg, parting me a little. “I was thinking about the kind where a horny divorcee does whatever her best investor says because he’s been fantasizing about taking her for years.”
My heart stopped. Okay. There was no equivocation now- he wanted me, right here, right now. I nod, trying to remain calm. “I think we could…look into that. For sure.”
“Good,” he leaned back, smiling cockily at me. “Now, climb on that desk and open your legs for me.”
My mind spun at his request. I had never done anything like this before, but he had me hypnotized. His power, his money, his looks…everything. If I couldn’t have Patrick, I’d have this sexy as fuck billionaire, right here in my office. I did as he said, lasviciously hiking up my skirt to reveal my cotton panties, letting my heels dangle over the edge of the desk. He pushed his chair back to look at me, and then issued another order.
“Take off your panties, and hand them to me.”
I obeyed, sliding the fabric awkwardly over my shoes and pushing them into his hands. Arousal, mixed in from my encounter with Patrick earlier in the day, was slamming through my veins, and all I wanted was a release, any release. He moved closer to me, so that his breath was hot on my cheek, and parted my lips with his fingers. He slowly pushed my panties into my mouth, till my lips were overflowing with the soft cotton, and then sat back down, admiring his handiwork.
“You look so good right now, Kelly. You have no idea how long I’ve been wondering what your tight little snatch would look like, or those big tits of yours. Unbutton your shirt, let me see them.” His words were harsh, arrogant, and even though my natural rebelliousness wanted to buck against him, I reached down and began to slowly unbutton my shirt. I reached around to unhook my bra and pushed it off my arms, revealing my generous D-cup breasts. I sat, trying to pull in air past the panties, my pussy and my chest exposed for him.
“Now, play with your nipples.”
I lifted my hands, and slowly took each bud in my fingers, rolling it with care until my nipples were hard and pert. The sensation sent shockwaves down my system, my pussy boiling over with desire. I managed to meet his gaze, and the way he was looking at me-like an object he owned, to perform for his lust- only added to the heat between my legs. I pinched my breasts harder, and let out a small, theatrical moan from behind my gag- if I was going to do this, then I was going to do this so well he came in his pants.
“Touch your clit, Kelly. Let me see you play with yourself.”
I had never been told what to do like this, and it was scandalous and insanely hot in equal measure. After all that time of being the one in control of a relationship, it felt good to gi
ve up a little of my power to let this guy tell me how to get myself off. It wasn’t like I hadn’t made myself come before, of course, but having his appreciative, lecherous eyes on me that whole time was even better. I slid my hand down, up my skirt, and parted my legs further so he could get a better view. With my index finger, I just grazed the outside of my pussy lips, causing him to inhale sharply. I knew how good I must look, as I moved my hand so that I could get to work on my swollen clit.
I struggled to maintain a loud groan as I came into contact with my sensitive flesh, every inch of my pussy slippery with evidence of my arousal. I began to move my fingers in slow circles, lingering in the sensation under my hand. This was the most turned-on I’d been in months, and I’d forgotten how much I missed simply handing myself over to my own sexual pleasure like this. My eyes opened long enough to take him in again, and by now he was rubbing a throbbing erection under his pants. He looked big. My pussy ached for him, suddenly desperate to feel his cock inside me.
“Use your fingers, Kelly; use them inside your pussy. I want to see you stretch that little hole.”
I was teetering now, knowing that I was getting closer and closer to my elusive orgasm. My hips instinctively moved against my hand as I pushed my fingers past my slit, moving them in slow circles so I hit every inch of the inner wall. I bit down on the panties in my mouth, trying to pull my mind away from the task at hand, to prolong this pleasure a little further. But I was almost there, my body readying itself, my hips bucking and my spare hand rubbing hard at my engorged breasts. I was just about to reach my peak when his voice cut through my reverie.
“Stop.”
What? On instinct, I pulled my hand free and looked at him, my eyes begging for an explanation. But he was already pulling me on to my knees in front of him, unzipping his pants to produce his impressive erection. I reached up to touch it, but he batted my hand away and pulled the panties from my mouth, sliding his cock in to replace them.
