by Daphne Dawn
He looks at me skeptically. This is why I love Bill. He's a straight-shooter and always tells it like it is.
"Don't worry. I promise I’ll be careful. Besides, I'm going to figure out her game before she can pull one over me."
"Alright, Braden. I just had to say what's on my mind."
"I'm glad you did, Bill. I'll see you tomorrow."
I leave, and I hate knowing that I've worried him. He's gotta know that I will always do everything I can to protect him and our crew from destruction. The problem is I'm just so wrapped up in Jenna that it's hard to see what side she's really on.
I like to think that, from watching her over the past few years and being with her now, that I know her...at least even a little bit.
And she seems loyal to a fault. She doesn’t seem like somebody who would ever hurt another person.
I don't know. I may be wrong. But I have to give her a chance so I can find out. I'd kick myself forever if I didn't at least try to see where Jenna's coming from.
I hope though, in the back of my mind, that I'm not making a mistake. I hope to God she has an explanation and that she proves us all wrong.
For now, I have to get home and get ready to see her. That's foremost on my mind.
15
Jenna
I'm naked and alone in my apartment, examining my body in the full-length mirror.
I look into my own eyes and search for signs of deception. Am I the kind of person who can do this?
Should I betray Braden? Betray my team? Or do nothing and let us all go down in flames?
The questions torments my mind and prevent me from getting ready for my date. I really do want Braden. But now our relationship is confusing and on another level.
How did things get so complicated? We just started seeing each other, and now there's this conflict of interest preventing our potential happiness.
I spent years wanting Braden, waiting for him to notice me, and now on the brink of what is possibly the best relationship of my life, this happens. Stupid FBI, I curse them in my head.
I run my hands over my body and try again to think if I'm the kind of person who can do this. Can I betray the very racing league that has given me a purpose in this life? Can I betray my family? My home?
I don't know what the fuck to do, and this makes me sulk.
I smear on some lipstick and coat my lashes in mascara. I let my black hair flow freely over my shoulders, curly and untamed, much like my personality. Then I pick through my closet, searching for the perfect frock to make this evening special.
I want to impress him. I want him to think of my body and of getting me naked.
This in itself should tell me my answer. I want Braden and I want him to be happy...with me, and that means not betraying him to the FBI.
I sigh. If these issues plague me all night long, I won't be able to concentrate on what is sure to be a very sexy date.
I choose to believe that nothing can be decided tonight. I'm not going to spend my precious time with Braden worrying about the feds. I'm just not.
I pull a very sexy little silver sheath that will accent my black hair perfectly. Of course, I don't wear underwear. I don't want a panty line. Wink.
I slide in my favorite heels, a black Tom Fords.
And then I’m out the door.
The limo's waiting downstairs, and I feel a flutter in my stomach as I think about him being in there. I thank the doorman who's holding it open for me.
"Good evening, Jenna," he says, eyes running all over me, admiring my…outfit.
"Thank you, Henry."
A breeze blows across my flushed face. I probably should've brought a shawl. The evening's cool and feels good on my skin.
He's probably staring at me through the tinted windows of the limousine. I freeze and am charged with an energy unlike anything else. This happens every time there's even a chance I'll see him or whenever I'm near him.
Butterflies are an understatement. It feels more like a mini tornado is ravaging my heart. It pounds so hard that it's all I can hear.
I find my bravery and stride over to the car, and he opens the door from the inside.
"Hi," he smiles.
"Hi," I'm somehow able to speak, despite the thunder and lightning going off in my body.
I slide into the limo, careful not to flash anyone. The cool black leather does nothing to chill my heated skin.
He puts his hand on my thigh and it feels good, it feels right, but my heart is still beating hard and fast.
"Are you okay?" he asks quizzically.
"Of course," I manage to say.
He stares at me like he knows what's going off inside of me. He knows that I have this reaction to him, and he seems to relish the idea.
He strokes my thigh and stares out the window. I look at his hair, his strong jaw, his muscles that are perfectly silhouetted by his expensive suit. It all makes me wet, and I'm acutely aware that not wearing underwear may not have been the best idea. I didn't quite anticipate the wetness that would spread between my thighs.
"Is there a drink?" I ask him, trying to dispel the tension.
Really, I need ice. Nice, cool, ice.
I move to the little-stocked bar and fill a cup with ice...and bourbon. I need both.
I drink the strong liquid, and it only spreads more warmth throughout my body.
I make another.
He stares at me in a tantalizing way, like he knows exactly why I feel the need to drink.
"Want one?" I ask.
"I'm okay," he smirks. "Just wait until you see where we're going. You may not want to be so tipsy then."
"Am I tipsy?"
"You will be, after two shots of whiskey, taken back to back. You sure you're okay?"
Yeah, like I'm going to reveal to him why the rush for the ice and drink. I need to distract myself, to calm my body of the pure nervousness that come from being around him.
"I'm fine. I just had a long day."
"Hmm, learn anything new?"
"Mr. Masterson. Are you searching me for clues as to our latest technology?" I say this as I open the sunroof, anxious for more air.
"I don't need your technology. I think it's the other way around. You need mine."
For a sec, I'm reminded of my ominous mission. The faces of those FBI agents flash through my mind. I become slightly paranoid and wonder if he knows that they talked to me.
I wish I could just tell him all about it and get the truth out on the table. If I could just reveal to him what happened, how they pressured me, maybe he could fix it. But instead, I deflect.
"You know, I'm sick of talking about work. Besides, I know what I'm doing, and my crew and I don't need to be threatened by you. You have nothing on us."
"Is that so?" His eyes light up.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see. You'll love it."
The bourbon kicks in and I'm good to go. I want this night to happen. I'm on a date with Braden, and it's a dream come true.
"We’re going somewhere special. And I know you'll love it."
"How many women have you taken there?"
He evades my question. "Tonight I'm thinking only of you."
I sit next to him, and we kiss, and it's nice, but my question has not been answered. Is this a haunt he goes to a lot? Are there other women in his life now besides me?
I'd like to think I can trust him.
Then I think of what the FBI wants me to do and wonder how can I expect to trust Braden if he can't trust me?
Damn those agents. It's ruining the evening and ruining my affection for Braden because every time I look at him I feel worried that I might have to hurt him.
Thankfully, we soon arrive at wherever it is he has planned for us. I follow him out of the limo, and everyone on the street stops and looks at us.
We look like a fairytale. Him in his deluxe suit, me in my tiny dress. I would stare at us, too. I can't believe I have the luck of being with my dream man, at la
st.
He takes me into a very tall building, and I look up and shudder to think of how high it is. I wonder if he'll have us going to another penthouse. Maybe a friend of his?
We're in the elevator, and there are mirrors. I see him reflected back to me, and it's very sexy.
"I want you," he breathes down my neck, assaulting me with his words.
I clench my legs together and try to maintain some sense of composure.
"Braden, not here," I warn him.
This man tries to take me in the most unexpected places.
His hand finds its way up from the back of my thigh to my ass where he squeezes one cheek and gives me a biting look. It's torment, this heat, and it's just the beginning of what's to come.
The doors open, and we walk into a room that nearly takes my breath away.
There's a bar made of all glass and ice. There's some tables and the restaurant portion, but right before us, looking straight out is a balcony...a balcony made of all glass.
"What the..."
"I know," he says. "Isn't it spectacular?"
He leads me straight through the room to the dangerous balcony. I tentatively step onto it, gripping his arm all the while.
When I look down, it feels staggering, as though I'm flying and falling at the same time, suspended in air in an unnatural way.
I bravely walk to the edge and dare to look down. He holds me. I need him to.
"My God, Braden, this is too much."
His hand holds the small of my back, and together we look out over the expanse of the city. It's a moment to treasure. But every time I look down, I feel nauseous and dizzy.
"Had enough?" he asks.
"Yes, for now."
"Why don't we go to our dinner?"
He has the VIP room all set up for us. It too has a stunning overlook of the city. Everything's airy and open up here. One side of the place has no wall, just a sheer drop down. The balcony made of glass is all that prevents the fall.
It's a rush being here with Braden. Him and heights, two of my favorite things.
We dine. He orders for me.
I sip my wine and enjoy this time with him. All the while, wind that accessible only from this height is gently blowing over us.
"So Braden, is this what you do when you're not at the track? Seduce woman at dizzying heights?"
"You're teasing me," he says with a darkened glance.
I'm testing him, trying to find out if there's anyone else.
"So, what do you do when you're not making new technology?" he asks.
"Me? Well, let's see. I do yoga, run, visit art museums, the usual stuff in the city."
"Do you ever go out, clubbing or whatnot?"
"Sometimes. I have a select group of friends that I go with, occasionally."
I look at him seductively over my wine glass.
"I imagine it's very different for you, Braden. I’m content with a quiet life. Racing fills my days, but my nights are spent calmly. You must have a new woman on your arm every night. I assume you go...clubbing a lot."
I hang on the word clubbing. I know Braden likes to party, but personally, I am so over it. Have been for a while.
I'm more serious in nature, I guess. And it takes a lot to stimulate me. To me, the fake conversations that come with fake friendships are not enough.
I need more substance to sustain me. And I surround myself with only the right people.
"Maybe all that's changed since I met...you."
My stomach drops at the thought of him thinking of me as more than just a fling.
He holds my hand over the table, but underneath it, he's grazing my thigh. Soon, his fingers make their way up my very short skirt. He kisses me, and I lean into him. It's all so good. Being in his arms is like being home.
He teases me by very nearly penetrating me with those fingers. A dark smile crosses his face when he realizes I'm bare underneath, not wearing a scrap of underwear. It excites him, I know. And I’m happy with my choice to wear nothing―even if I am a little cold.
He wantonly traces his forefinger along the outskirts of my very wet pussy, and yet he doesn't dive in. What's stopping him?
The delight of the feeling, of him caressing me, and his lips on mine, it's all too much―enough, in fact, to make me come.
To think that the simple thought of him can be my undoing.
It's intense, and it's crazy, and it's real, I know.
"Would you like to see the balcony again?" he asks suddenly.
"I'd love to," I say as he removes his hand from underneath my skirt.
A part of me is disappointed, and a part of me knows that this was just an appetizer. The true event of this night has yet to come.
He pulls on his trench coat, and takes my hand. I follow him in my teetering heels out to the balcony.
There are other people around, but to me, it's just us. Me and him. He's all I can see, and all I want to see, as the world spins around us and beneath my feet.
I'm starting to fall.
16
Braden
I look down at my polished shoes, and there's nothing beneath them.
I'm floating on air.
All I see are tiny people and tiny cars.
The wind whips around my hair, and I feel like I'm flying.
Such is the benefit of being at Skybar. This ultra-exclusive club with its glass balcony is the hottest place in town right now.
I've been flirting with Jenna all night. And now I'm ready for more. She looks so fucking hot in that little silver dress.
I was stunned to see her walk out her front door wearing only that little slip. And there were no visible panty lines, so I know she's totally nude underneath there...at least that's the way I imagine it. A man’s gotta know these things.
Of course, tracing my fingers up her thighs and over her bare pussy after dinner confirmed I was right.
I've been trying to stare at her with X-ray vision all night, just to see her body.
She's looking over the edge of the glass balcony. There is glass in front of us and glass underneath us. It's the only thing standing between us and falling fifty floors down to a New York City avenue.
This place is insane. It gives me a rush that's similar to racing, that's similar to Jenna.
"Wow, Braden, I feel like I'm gonna fall. This is crazy up here."
"I know, I wanted you to see it," I say to her.
The idea of exploring new experiences with Jenna is addicting. She's fun to be around, and she appreciates every moment. Plus she has a need for speed like I do, so we're kind of on the same level.
No one's watching, so I wrap my arms around her from behind. We're looking out over the gorgeous cityscape that we have unlimited visual access to.
"It's beautiful up here," she says thoughtfully.
"You're beautiful," I say what's on my mind.
She pulls my arms around her little bit tighter. Things with Jenna are starting to go a little bit deeper. It's uncharted territory for me. I know she's been in a serious relationship before, but I'm more of a one night stand kind of guy.
To feel this way for someone should throw me off my game. But instead, she brings out the best in me. I feel like I'm finally home.
But I'm not going to admit that to her yet.
I pull my black trench coat around her to protect her from the wind.
"I can't believe we're standing on glass. I feel like I'm gonna fall," she says nervously.
"That's kind of the idea," I squeeze her tighter. "Don’t worry, though, Jenna, I'm never gonna let you fall."
She turns her head and looks up at me. I plant a kiss on her supple lips, and it feels like the wind gets knocked out of me.
Being with her is like that. It's a flux of energy that I'll never understand. Maybe it's love?
"You know, I'm really glad to be out here with you. You always push me past my comfort zone, Braden. I think that's a good thing," she says.
Her words further my understa
nding that I'm in the right place at the right time. I'm gonna seize this moment.
I reach up under her dress, using my coat to surround both of us so that no one sees.
I graze my fingers along her perfectly sculpted ass and then I slip them into her pussy from behind.
It's so sexy to do this up on the sky balcony where it feels like we're flying, and people are mingling behind us―and yet no one knows I'm knuckle deep in Jenna.
She gasps out in surprise and tries to maintain her balance. The world is spinning for both of us, and it's not just because we're on a balcony supported only by glass.
This may not be the safest of ideas, but I continue anyway. I'm addicted to the electric feeling of being with her, especially in public places. It speaks to both of our need to live in the fast lane, to live dangerously, and to be on the fringe of society.
I've been with a lot of fans before, a lot of socialites, and a lot of strippers. But never someone like Jenna. I've never been involved with someone who is as deep in the racing league as I am.
I've never known anybody who cares about that kind of technology as much as I do. That in itself attracts me to her more than anything. That and her body, of course.
I slide my finger along her inner lips and dispel some of the anticipation from her. She's already trying to breathe through the fact that I'm fingering her out on this unbelievable balcony.
I make it harder for her: I stroke her little pussy from the outside, making small circles the way I will soon touch her G-spot. She clenches at the glass wall in front of us, trying to steady herself.
I swipe my thumb along her clit and make lingering circles around her most sensitive spot. I start on the outside and work my way in. It's the best way. Soon I'll have her opening up like a perfect little flower.
"Braden, not out here. I feel dizzy, like I'm gonna fall."
Her admission gives me more of a spike in adrenaline. I continue what I'm doing, knowing that I'm close to getting her off. If I can make her come out here on this insane balcony, then it'll be a moment she will truly never forget.
I push my fingers into her with an adept swiftness and urgency. I speed up my movements to make her feel like I'm fucking her, to make her crave the real thing.
