A Special Obsession

by A. M. Hargrove

  When I get home, I make the call to the chairman. When I explain the situation, he tells me the board will need it in writing.

  “I’m not sure they’ll do it. I recommended going to HR, and they won’t even go that route.” I explain why and he starts to ask questions about Dad. So I keep it professional, telling him what the work environment is like and what’s expected from the employees.

  “I’m surprised HR hasn’t stepped in already.”

  “Yeah, but I guess because the company is such a huge name in the architecture community, everyone wants to work there, you know, to establish their roots. However, the new generation of employee wants a better work-life balance so they’re not going to put up with Dad’s demands.”

  “What about you, Quinn?”

  “I’d rather not answer. I don’t think it’s any secret that my father and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

  He sighs into the phone. “So that answers my next question. I can assume he knows nothing about this.”

  “Absolutely nothing,” I say.

  He names a couple other members of the board he wants to discuss this with and says he’ll get back to me.

  “Don’t delay. If these people actually leave, it will paralyze the company.”

  “You’re right.”

  Before we end the call, I ask him something. “You knew my grandfather fairly well, didn’t you?”

  “I did.”

  “Was he like my father?”

  “He was a very sharp businessman, but much more personable. I’m not sure if that’s the answer you were looking for.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  The conversation gets me thinking. I wonder what made Dad the way he is. If my grandfather wasn’t like this, why is he?

  The buzzing of my phone interrupts my thoughts. I smile when I see who it is.

  “Special, what’s up?”

  Excitement laces her voice. “You wouldn’t believe the bar. It’s beautiful, absolutely, crazy gorgeous. I can’t even. Can you come over now? I’m here. We had the inspection and I’m just sitting here staring at everything. Jeb thinks I’m crazy.”

  I wouldn’t miss this for the world, so I snatch my keys and head her way. I would’ve paid good money to have been with her when she saw the place for the first time, but it’s going to be fun getting the tour from her.

  The wine and cheese place is still open, and they’re busy with Christmas coming up, so I have to park several blocks away. When I get to A Special Place, I take in her new sign. It’s more contemporary than the old one, using a modern scripted font instead of block lettering. The front of the place is also fixed up so when the weather’s nice she can put some tables out there too.

  She sees me inspecting everything and she runs to open the door.

  “I love the new sign.”

  “So do I! It turned out much better than I’d imagined.” She stands on her toes to give me a kiss. “Let me give you a tour.” She grabs my hand and pulls me through the door. Something squeezes in my chest as I watch her walk into the room. Then she turns and beams. She fucking beams at me. And it’s a gut punch and a mega reality check. It brings to mind all the shit—the money and materialistic crap I grew up with, things my father immerses himself with and what he considers more important than his own kids—and it all settles into my soul. For Special, all it takes are a few slight changes and some polishing up of things and she’s like the kid who got a new bike for her birthday.

  “What is it?” she asks, frowning.

  Not wanting to rain on her parade, I say, “I was only appreciating your happiness, your joy.”

  Instantly, her radiant smile returns. “For a minute there I thought something terrible happened.”

  It did. I was born into the wrong fucking family.

  “No, everything is great. Especially now that I’m here.” I pull her into my arms and say, “I missed you.”

  “How much?”

  “More than I should.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Using both palms, I grab her ass and press her against me so there’s no mistaking my swelling cock. I wonder how she’d feel if he stuck his head out and introduced himself.

  “Is that a good enough answer for you?”

  “And here I thought you were a good guy who didn’t just want me for sex.”

  By the smirk she wears, I see she’s only kidding. So I bend down and kiss her sexy mouth. “You’d better know by now you’re so much more than just sex. Although I can’t deny that is some damn great icing to the best cake I’ve ever eaten.”

  She throws back her head and laughs to the point I can almost see every one of her perfectly straight teeth. Once she stops, I stare at her full lips, at the tiny lines that crease the plumpness, and I hear her breath moving in and out of her lungs. I touch her lower lip with my thumb. While her teeth sink into the pad of it, I slide my other hand lower to move under her dress. She’s wearing tights and boots and looks good enough to eat. Gripping the backs of her thighs, I lift her up.

  “Is the front door locked?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Are you expecting anyone else?”

  “No.”

  Then I walk her toward the kitchen.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see.” I pretend not to know where the light switch is so she has to tell me. As soon as she flips them on, the brightness makes us both blink. Then I set her on one of the stainless steel workstations.

  Her jaw sags open and she says, “We can’t. This is where I prepare food.”

  “You have cleaning supplies, don’t you?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  My hands move up her thighs to the waist of the tights she wears and I start tugging. She offers no resistance. Once they’re low enough for me to do what I need to, I do the same to the boy briefs today. They’re cute as fuck on her. Of course, she would look like a sex goddess even if she wore burlap.

  Spreading her thighs as wide as possible, I bury my tongue in her sex. Her fingers sink into my hair as she moans and pulls me closer. I’m not sure that’s possible, but her tight pussy latches onto my tongue. I use my thumb on her clit. She’s wet, slick for me.

  Special is vocal about her pleasure. She moans out her likes and tells me yes, harder, don’t move, and more. When she comes, she bucks against me, arching into her climax. Finishing off her orgasm with a swirl of my tongue around her little nub, I look up at her flushed skin. I ache to see her naked, so I take the hem of her stretchy dress in my hands and pull it quickly over her head. Not wasting a single second, I get rid of her bra and step back to admire the view.

  “So fucking hot.”

  I’m reaching for a condom as I say the words, but I drop my damn wallet and have to bend down to retrieve it. I pull one out, leaving the wallet on the floor, and rip into the packet like a madman. My dick is about to ruin my fucking pants. All I can think about is plunging into her sweet little pussy. My hands tremble as I unzip and roll on the condom. When her fist closes around me, I groan.

  “Shit, Special.” And with that, I release the pent-up tension in my dick on her by plunging into her. That primal instinct, the one I never knew I had until her, overrides every emotion and I fuck her without restraint. She whimpers when I pound into her unmercifully, but I can’t stop myself. I should ask if she’s okay, but I’m pretty damn sure she’d tell me. Her hands clutch my arms and she matches my rhythm, syncing as we skillfully fuck. She comes again, head thrown back, crying out my name, her pussy clenching me, causing me to shoot in pulsating spurts.

  It takes us a few minutes to regroup and regain our wits.

  “Wow, that was really something, right?” she asks, reaching for me.

  “A lot more than something.” I take her mouth in a sweet kiss and flick my thumbs over her rock-hard nipples. “I love to fuck you. It’s so damn raw and erotic. Look at you with your tight pussy grabbing my dick. There’s not a better sight in the world.
”

  Her neck flushes pink and it travels all the way to her cheeks.

  “Does it embarrass you when I talk to you like this?”

  She licks her lips, then swallows. “Not embarrasses me. It turns me on.”

  “Good. Because I plan on talking to you like this a lot. It’s hard not to when you look so fucking sexy. And gorgeous.” I can’t seem to stop touching her nipples. I pinch them and she moans. “Unfortunately, I only have one condom.” I pull out and she whines. My hand reaches down and runs over her pussy. She tries to hike her leg up, but her tights and boots trap them. I bow my head and go after her clit with my tongue again. Circling, circling, circling, until I add a finger and then two inside her. Soon she’s clenching down on me in another climax. When I’m done, I leave a trail of kisses all the way up to her mouth.

  “You’re magnificent,” I tell her. “Watching you come is better than anything I’ve ever done.”

  “Having you make me come is better than… okay, I have to tell you. You’re a lot better than my vibrator.”

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever been paid a compliment like that before,” I say. Then I chuckle.

  “It’s the only way I’ve ever orgasmed before,” she says in a small voice.

  And fuck, doesn’t that make me feel ten feet tall. I puff out my chest and thread both hands into her hair. “I promise, you will always orgasm when we’re together, and it will be better than your vibrator every time.” Then I give her a loud smacking kiss.

  It makes her giggle, which was my intent.

  I glance around us. “I bet the next time you’re in here cooking, you’ll be thinking of orgasms and my dick as you put potatoes in the fryer.”

  Her mouth opens and we both laugh. Really loud.

  Then I add, “I hope you don’t give everyone this kind of tour.”

  She smacks me playfully. “Only my favorite customers.”

  After we rearrange our clothing, she gives me the complete tour. Her pride shines through her eyes, and it makes me every bit as happy as she is.

  “The best part of all of this is my new owner isn’t raising the rent.”

  “That’s great. I’m glad it all worked out. So, when is your grand reopening?”

  “On Monday. We’re doing a Monday night football special with drinks and food. We wanted to do it as soon as possible because December is such a big football month, not only for the pros, but also for college playoffs and bowl games.”

  Special doesn’t do anything without putting a great deal of thought into it.

  “Have you gotten the cable connected yet?” I ask.

  “Yeah. They did that today. We’re all hooked up and ready to go. Jeb knows how to work everything, and he promised to show me. I hope I can learn because there are a lot of remotes.”

  “I’m pretty sure you can handle it.”

  “Hey, have you eaten yet?”

  When I tell her I haven’t, we decide to go out and grab a quick bite. Afterward, I ask her if she’s driving back to Mimi’s.

  “No, I’m staying at my apartment.”

  “Stay with me tonight.”

  “Can you stay here? I’ve been away too long since I’ve been staying at Mimi’s.”

  “I can do that.”

  We walk over to her little apartment and she says, “Do you feel cramped here?”

  “Not at all. Besides, it’s you I’m interested in, not your apartment.”

  30

  Special

  The reopening is a huge success. Every night we’ve been packed, not only on the weekends like before but also during the week anytime there’s a game. The best thing about it is I can close earlier, even on Fridays and Saturdays, and my profits have still more than tripled.

  “This was the best idea,” Jeb remarks one night.

  “I only hope it keeps up.”

  He gives me one of his looks—the one that lets me know I need to have more faith in myself. “Okay, you were right.”

  “Special, listen up. This place is exactly what was needed here. Have you stopped to look at your customers?”

  I have. They are tipping better and ordering higher end liquor.

  “Your waitstaff is more reliable too.”

  He’s right. The ads I ran to hire more help brought in an overwhelming response. I was able to bring on seasoned kitchen staff as well as waiters and waitresses. As for the kitchen, we now have a complete staff back there.

  “Jeb, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you think I need to up the menu? Like, add some other items that are a little higher end?”

  “Not yet. Let’s see how things go. We could run some specials and see how they do.”

  I snap my fingers. “That’s a great idea. Maybe all-you-can-eat oyster night. Or peel and eat shrimp by the quarter pound.”

  Jeb nods. “I like that. We should start that right away.”

  I make a note to call my food distributor in the morning. The day after tomorrow is Christmas Eve, so I need to jump on this, especially since we’re in the heart of oyster season.

  Later that evening, Weston shows up. His usual smile is replaced by a frown. When I ask him what’s wrong, he shrugs it off as nothing. But I know he’s hiding something from me. I let it go and leave it for later.

  “You hungry?” I ask.

  “Starved. I skipped lunch.”

  Checking the clock, it’s almost eight. “When’s the last time you ate?”

  “Yesterday,” he says.

  “Follow me.”

  He tails me into the kitchen and I have him sit on a stool that’s tucked under a counter by the phone. “You can pull that over here if you want.” He drags it closer to the workstation so we can chat while I make him his favorite sandwich, a chicken bacon club with pepper jack cheese on a pretzel bun. There are some hot, fresh-cut fries ready too. I plate it and put it in front of him. “Let me grab you something to drink. What’s your pleasure?”

  “Any kind of beer. Surprise me.”

  Jeb hands me his favorite brew, and I carry it back to Weston in an ice-cold glass. “Here you go.”

  He takes a swallow and says, “You spoil me.”

  “Care to tell me why you went an entire day without eating?”

  The computer screen that’s mounted over the workstation dings with an order, so I check it out and start fixing the burger.

  Weston says, “I’ll tell you after I finish eating. I don’t want to ruin this great meal.”

  “Pfft. It’s only a sandwich.”

  “A damn good one at that.”

  While he eats, several more orders come in and I go into prep mode. He watches and laughs. “You look like a human assembly line.”

  “I feel like one, but we have our system worked out pretty well.”

  One of the other workers comes in and grabs some plates. The kitchen is a bustling hive and noisy, with clanking pots and the sizzling sounds of food cooking.

  Weston cleans his plate, wipes his mouth with his napkin, and says, “Mimi needs to take lessons from you.”

  I laugh. “Don’t tell her that. If you want to stay on her good side, tell her I’ll never come close to her cooking.”

  He stands and moves behind me so he can watch. “You want to be my cook sometime?” I ask.

  “Are you kidding? This place would close in one day.”

  I glance over my shoulder and ask, “So, what happened that destroyed your never-ending appetite?”

  “My loving father.”

  He says nothing else and I don’t push for more. I let him observe and we settle into a comfortable silence. I’d like to lean into him while I work, but I’d probably chop my finger off. He doesn’t disturb my progress, even though he’s in my space. It’s weird if I think about it.

  When I get a moment, I walk out to check on my customers. It’s something I’ve done since the beginning, to make sure they’re pleased with the quality of the food and service. Weston follows me o
ut and takes a seat at the bar.

  A man at the second table I approach hits on me. He’s very blatant about it. This is nothing new, and I handle it quickly, moving on to the next group of customers. When I finish, Weston grabs me as I walk by.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Do you need anything?”

  He presses his lips together. “Did that guy bother you over there because I can say something.”

  I had almost forgotten about that. “Who?” And then I remember. “Oh, him?” I shrug. “I get that occasionally. He’s fine. It’s nothing.”

  “I saw him. He looked like he wanted to eat you, Special.” Weston isn’t looking at me. He’s staring at the back of the man’s head.

  “No, he didn’t. He flirted with me and asked me out. I said no.”

  His jaws snap together. I probably shouldn’t have said that, but I had no idea he’d react this way.

  “Listen, guys come in here all the time and ask me out. I’m not interested in them, and never have been. Ask Jeb.”

  “I don’t need to ask Jeb. I’m worried about your safety.”

  “Don’t be. I have Jeb here, and now you. You’re acting like a guard dog.” I give him a lopsided smile and add, “Woof, woof.”

  “It’s not funny, Special.”

  Grabbing his shoulder, I give it a firm squeeze. “It kind of is. Seriously, you can’t be worried about me. Think about it. I’m going to get hit on. Look what you did. You came in here and waited how long to talk to me?”

  “It’s not the same.”

  He’s jealous. Oh, my God! He’s totally jealous. I call him on it. “The green monster has bitten you in the ass, hasn’t it?”

  “It has not.”

  I lean in and whisper into his ear, “Weston is jealous.”

  But then he does something unexpected. He twists, trapping my mouth in a searing kiss that heats me from my lips to my toes. When he finishes, he says, “This is mine. Now everyone here is aware. You’d better get back to work.” I didn’t realize his hand moved to my ass when he kissed me. When he releases me, I can still feel the pressure of his fingers and the burn of his lips. I don’t want to go back to work. What I want is to march him to my apartment and get laid.