by A. C. Arthur
Second, if she just set her mind to having sex with Maurice every second of every day they were at this resort, she’d also go crazy. There was a hunger when she was near him now, a sensation she hadn’t felt before, but that was definitely awakened now. A part of her had wanted him to tear her pants off and touch his mouth to her waiting core again, just like they’d mentioned during the Make-Up and Mimosas session this morning. Of course, she hadn’t wanted him to do it right there in front of everybody, but the thought of him going down on her again had her pulse increasing and her pussy pulsating. She could have him as much as she wanted this weekend, of that she was certain. It was more how or if they were going to keep this momentum going when their weekend was over.
At any rate, she couldn’t think about any of this anymore right now. She needed to get going so they wouldn’t be late for the PJs, Dinner and a Movie event. She was starved, and Maurice probably was, too. Finally opening her eyes, she took another steadying breath and left the room.
She stepped out into the hallway wearing a cappuccino silk pajama set. Staring down at the ensemble, she told herself for the hundredth time that choosing to wear the pants instead of the shorty-short-shorts that also came with this set was a smart idea. The top was long sleeved and had a belted waist instead of buttons, and on her feet were her favorite Ugg Cozette leopard-print slippers. She frowned and wiggled her toes because these were the slippers she wore when she was at home. She’d meant to order a pair of more sedate-looking slippers for the pajama party, but she’d had gotten busy at work and forgot. With a shrug, and because the clock was ticking, she continued down the hallway.
Maurice was punctual, and so was she, which was why she told herself that any recollection of Gordon around Maurice was a mistake. This wasn’t the same. In fact, it couldn’t be more different than what she’d gone through six years ago.
“How is it possible that you make even pajamas look sexy?” The twinkle in Maurice’s eyes as she walked toward him was alluring. She’d noted that long ago, which was why she never questioned how so many women were swept away by him, even though they knew he’d never commit to any of them. “I mean, you’re not showing a bit of skin. Well, except for your toes, which are mighty cute with that yellow nail polish.”
“Sexy Is a Complete Package,” she replied, coming to a stop beside him.
“Ahh.” He grinned and nodded. “Last year’s Women of the World Collection slogan. That was brilliant then, and it’s still relevant now.”
She couldn’t help feeling the flush of pride wash over her as he recalled one of her most recent marketing campaigns. RGF’s Women of the World Collection—which featured both upscale business and business-casual wear as well as budget-friendly designs—had given career-minded women more fashion choices than any other line across that season, and she’d been in charge of getting the word out to the world about it. It was one of her favorite projects.
“Skin doesn’t always mean sexy. You should know that by now,” she told him.
The elevator came, and they stepped inside.
“Why? Because the women I date all show a lot of skin?”
His response seemed defensive and was a little off topic. “I meant because at RGF, we’re not all about showing off a woman’s body with revealing clothes. We cater to the entire style of a woman.”
The look on his face said he was rethinking his words. It should’ve been the look of someone realizing they’d put their foot in their mouth, but that wasn’t Maurice. While he could admit when he was wrong, it was always on his terms. He remained silent for the duration of their ride, and she stepped off the elevator first when the doors opened again.
She already knew which direction to go without the help of the signs and arrows the resort had put up to assist them in getting around. Besides that, she could smell the food coming from the resort restaurant and her stomach churned in response. She was actually following her stomach’s lead.
“Hey, there! I sent you a text this morning after the mimosas session, and you didn’t respond.” Kelli came out of nowhere, stopping Desta in her tracks.
“Oh, hi. Yeah, sorry about that. We went skiing and then I came back and took a nap. Didn’t know the slopes could be so exhausting.” That was a lie. After all her tumbles and the emotional upheaval of too many trips down memory lane, she’d gone straight to her room when they were done and taken a hot shower. She’d felt better after that, and she’d checked and answered emails until it was time to get ready for tonight’s festivities. She gave Kelli a tentative smile. The woman returned it with a beaming one of her own.
“I’ll just bet you were exhausted.” With a wink and a chuckle Kelli glanced over Desta’s shoulder. “Guess your match is working out?”
“Yes. Yes, we’re...working out just fine.” For the weekend, she wanted to say for clarification. One more day and they’d be back in the city working on something other than turning each other on. “Um, Maurice, this is Kelli. Kelli, this is Maurice.”
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me who he is.” Kelli stared at Maurice, accepting the hand he’d already extended for a shake. “I know exactly who Maurice Gold is. The elusive fashion mogul who loves the ladies but not enough to settle down with one. I recognized him as soon as I saw you in his arms yesterday.”
If Maurice felt as uncomfortable with what Kelli just said as Desta did, he didn’t show it. In fact, his most dashing smile was in place as he shook and released Kelli’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kelli. Did you have a chance to link up with your match this weekend, or are you just hanging out solo?”
Desta had wondered that, too, since Kelli had not only sent her a text this morning but had also sent one late last night. Desta had responded to that one after she’d left Maurice’s room this morning.
“Oh no, I found my guy. He’s right over there getting us a table. Hey, why don’t you two join us? We can have a double date.” Kelli didn’t wait for their response but immediately turned and fast-walked over to the restaurant entrance, where a guy wearing gray sweatpants and a matching T-shirt was speaking to the host.
“We should get out of this,” she said to Maurice the moment they were alone.
“Nah, then we look like we’ve got something to hide. And we don’t, so let’s just go.”
“We don’t? Are you sure?” She couldn’t help but question him here. “How’s it going to look that two RGF employees were caught spending the weekend at a sex retreat?” Because when it came right down to it, regardless of any of the names they slapped on it, that’s exactly what this weekend was turning out to be.
Maurice easily took her hand in his and said, “It looks like two consenting adults decided to do some adult things.”
Unable to hide her exasperation with his unbothered attitude where the media was concerned, she sighed. “Look, I know you like to believe that you’ve got everybody eating out of the palm of your hand all the time, especially the media. But this time I’m attached, too. My career’s on the line, and unlike you I’m not related to the bosses. I could lose my job.”
He stopped, dropped her hand and turned so that they were now face-to-face. “I’m damn good at my job, Desta. No matter what the media prints or says about me, RGF is always at the forefront of my mind. So don’t throw my family in my face as if I can afford to be reckless because of them.”
She wanted to snap back, but creating a scene wasn’t going to help make her point. Besides that, she’d never seen Maurice look as serious as he did right now.
“I’m just saying we should think about this.”
“You can think about it. I’m going to have dinner.” With that, he left her standing there.
She felt like an idiot as that itchy sensation rippled over her skin again. She closed her eyes, intending to start her breathing exercises to calm herself down, but stopped. She opened her eyes again. Maurice was right: now was
not the place to fall apart. If Kelli was going to run to the media with this tidbit of information, Desta’s reaction to it would just add fuel to the fire.
Pasting on a smile, she pulled out her phone as she began to walk after Maurice. If it looked like she was reading a message or something, maybe it wouldn’t seem like they’d had a disagreement and he’d just walked away from her—something she wasn’t going to forget he’d done.
Kelli was waving wildly from a table that was thankfully toward the back of the restaurant. Maurice hadn’t turned back to see if Desta was behind him, but when he arrived at the table, he pulled out the chair closest to the wall and waited until she took a seat. Offering him one of her practiced smiles, she sat across from Kelli and glanced at Kelli’s guy as Maurice sat down.
Kelli’s match had cocoa-brown hair that was long and curling on top but close-shaved on the sides. Glasses, gray eyes and a full goatee filled out the rest of his face. She’d already noted he was tall and built like a basketball player, and when he smiled as she stared at him, she got the impression he was friendly.
“Hi, I’m Travis.” Because she’d been caught staring and she really needed to get herself together if she was going to make it through this meal, she accepted his hand for a quick shake.
“Hi, Travis, I’m Desta. And this is Maurice.” She prayed Kelli wouldn’t mention his last name.
“Maurice’s family founded the largest Black-owned fashion house in the world. I know you’ve heard of RGFashions,” Kelli announced amiably, and Desta’s hopes were quickly dashed.
“And Desta’s head of our marketing department,” Maurice added.
Good thing she’d pulled her hand back from the shake with Travis and let it rest in her lap with the other one. Now she could clasp them together tightly in frustration without anyone else seeing them.
“Really? So are you here this weekend for work or pleasure?” Travis asked, probably because she wasn’t wearing her ID badge.
Glancing over at Maurice in his fitted black T-shirt and black basketball shorts, she noticed he wasn’t wearing his badge, either.
Of course Kelli answered the question for them. “No, silly, they’re Dear Lovers, too.”
“Oh? Wow. How does that work? Were you surprised to find each other here?” Now, all on board with Kelli’s excitement, Travis was the inquisitive one.
“No,” Desta spoke up. “We knew we’d both be here, and once our matches didn’t pan out, we just decided to stay for a relaxing weekend.” Where that lie came from she didn’t exactly know, but it felt right. The less these two—and possibly, at some point, the world—knew about how she and Maurice actually came to be here together, the better.
“Yeah, but it was quite a coincidence,” Maurice added easily. “With the disappointment of not hitting it off with my match, it was an unexpected comfort to see Desta here.”
This was the second time he’d used her full name. Since about a month after she’d begun working at RGF, Maurice had called her Des, and because she’d liked him from the start—in a strictly platonic way—she hadn’t bothered to correct him. It dawned on her in this instant that he was the only one who called her that, and she liked it.
“That’s so cool.” Kelli had leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. She stared at them as if they were a couple on a reality-television show she was obsessed with. “So, how’s it going so far? What’d you think about Make-Up and Mimosas? I only saw you two walking out, but I couldn’t catch up with you.”
“It was definitely informative.” Maurice was sure to answer first this time. “All those tips on how to shift the anger from the argument to sexual desire were quite interesting. Makes you want to pick an argument just for the sake of getting to the make-up sex.”
Travis grinned and nodded at Maurice. “I was thinking the same thing, man.”
“No,” Kelli answered quickly. “No arguments over here, at least not yet.” She giggled. “It’s too early to say for sure if they’ll end with make-up sex or a complete block from my email and my phone.”
“That’s certainly an option,” Desta added. Even though, for her, it really wasn’t. If this thing they’d agreed to went south, she had no idea how the work relationship between her and Maurice would turn out.
She couldn’t tell if Maurice was thinking along the same lines, and the conversation quickly turned when the server came to take their orders. Cheeseburger sliders, hot wings, fries and beers all around came to the table in the next fifteen minutes. From there, the chatter went to the food, the beer and guesses as to which movie they’d be watching tonight.
Desta managed to relax at some point, and when Maurice put his arm around the back of her chair after they finished eating, she didn’t give it a second thought. A stranger walking by might think this was a normal double date, with four friends laughing and talking about things like sports and how many times Desta fell on the slopes in comparison to how many times Kelli had done the same.
Nobody would know that a war was going on inside her—one in which she wished she could actually have this sense of normalcy. Only, the smarter, more experienced side of her knew it was an impossibility. Things could seem good one moment and change completely the next. And because of that, she would never willingly take a chance on a relationship again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MAURICE HAD GUESSED they’d be watching something like Iron Man or some other Marvel movie, because it would’ve certainly taken the sexual edge off all the other planned events for the weekend. He’d been sorely mistaken.
Twenty minutes after they’d finished eating, he found them a set of beanbag chairs in the far-left corner of a room that had been designated their movie theater for the evening. It had taken a little dodging to unravel them from Kelli and Travis after leaving the restaurant, but he knew dinner had been stressful for Des. When she wasn’t eating, she’d been wringing her hands so much he was certain she’d caused bruising.
And he needed to make up for losing his patience with her earlier. He wasn’t going to apologize because she’d been out of line throwing his family into the reason why he had job security, especially since she of all people knew that wasn’t true. If there was one thing his father, Ron Gold Sr., didn’t tolerate it was insubordination on the job, and if his dad for one minute thought something Maurice was doing was jeopardizing the image of the company, he would fire him personally. Admittedly, on the surface, he could see how his philandering ways might be a stain on RGF’s otherwise impeccable reputation. But he’d always been the charming Gold brother, a trait which aided in his job as the head of PR. The media reps loved him, which more often than not worked to his advantage. If that meant the media also took a considerable interest in his personal life, he’d been willing to deal with that.
“We’re pretty much out of sight back here,” he said when Desta only stood next to the pair of beanbags. He had no idea why the organizers of this event thought these were a cute idea. While he got a kick out of them, Des definitely wasn’t a fan.
“And we can still see the screen,” she added, even though she made no attempt to sit.
“Of course, as soon as they turn the lights down and get started it’ll be just like being in a movie theater.”
“Without the comfortable reclining seats.” Glancing over at her, he saw her tentative smile.
He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He plopped down onto one of the bags. Actually, since they were in the back, their seats had been pushed farther into a corner, putting a little more space between them and the next couple. It was actually a pretty ideal spot for privacy.
When she was still standing, he reached out and pulled the other beanbag closer to his, until the faux leather material touched and they looked like one big blob. “I like it. C’mon, sit down. The movie will be starting soon.”
He was certain she wanted to say something else,
to make another remark about how she didn’t understand why they didn’t have real seats, but she declined. Giving up on that argument was a task for her, he knew—Des loved to get her point across. She sat down beside him, moving a little more in the seat than she had this morning. “You okay? Do you need me to find you another seat?”
“No. It’s not that.” She continued to move until finally settling herself into a groove. “Guess I’ll make a note that silk pajamas don’t really go with beanbag chairs. I’ll probably be slipping and sliding around throughout the entire movie.”
Only because the lights went out at that moment, signaling the movie was about to start, did he bite down on the remark about possibly enjoying her slipping and sliding around as long as she ended up beneath him again.
Someone came by with cartons of popcorn and a choice of bottled waters or sodas. Des took a water and popcorn. He only took a water. For the first twenty minutes of the movie they shared the popcorn and sipped on their drinks, both watching the screen with mild interest. It was when the lube, blindfold and whip were revealed that all thoughts of eating or drinking disappeared.
Des’s eyes were plastered to the screen, and there was no look of surprise or disgust on her face. For that reason, Maurice turned his attention back to the movie and waited to see how the scene would play out.
The man explained things like safe words and complete submission, pleasure and dominance, all while removing the woman’s clothes slowly, one item at a time. Maurice imagined his fingers brushing over Des’s smooth skin as he untied that belt at her waist and slid the top from her shoulders. There was a spot right at the hollow of her collar bone that he’d kissed last night and had been thinking of kissing again. His dick jumped, and he thanked the heavens that he’d had the good sense to wear loose-fitting shorts. Even if she looked over right now she probably wouldn’t notice his growing erection.
