by Vivien Vale
She's moaning and trying to escape but I've got her back pressed against the wall with my one hand against her torso. She can't move. She's in my grasp for as long as I deem necessary.
"Oh Liam, not here. We can't," she says.
I say nothing but just keep plunging my tongue in and out. I finger her G-spot and suck away the juices that are gushing now. She's so wet for me.
I stop for a moment.
"Claire, you're so wet. I know you want this. Stop fighting it."
Strong as she is, she ignores my words and still tries to get away. What is she running from? I'm here to bring her a sense of ecstasy. She should just fall into it.
I finger her harder for her defiance and I flick my tongue against her clit in a way that I know will bring a sense of painful pleasure.
The move has the desired effect and soon she's coming in my mouth.
She cries out and clutches my hair with both hands.
"Liam, fuck, no. I'm coming so hard," she cries gently so as not to alert the other patrons as to what's happening in here.
I stand up and lean down to kiss her so she can taste herself on my lips. This seems to turn her on more. She's still riding waves of pleasure. As she does so, I feel her hand gripping my cock from the top of my pants.
She fumbles with the button and the zipper, but I stop her.
"No Claire, I say when. And I want you to wait for it. I want you to ache for it."
She looks disappointed and I'm glad. I want her thinking how very close she came to having my cock inside of her. I want to be on her mind all day.
This will teach her that if she tries to run away from me, to challenge me, I will have her begging for it.
Claire
Oh my God, Liam has just totally left me hanging.
He's just gone down on me in the powder room at the café and yet I am not fulfilled. I was trying to resist his invitation earlier, but it seems I can’t. Now, I’m craving for more.
Sure, I came, a lot. But what I really want is the feel of Liam's cock inside of me. I'm aching, dying to ride him, to have him fuck me so hard that I pass out.
He knows exactly what he's doing. I feel like this is his way of getting back at me for abandoning him at breakfast the other day. Little does he know why I did it.
We exit the powder room and a couple patrons look at us like they know what we've been up to. Why would both of us be in there at once?
We leave the café and I see Liam on his phone about to call the limousine to pick us up.
I hold his arm back.
"No, not today. Let me show you how I roll instead."
He looks at me intrigued as ever and cancels the limousine.
I'm on my phone booking an Uber and I think this is gonna be a hilarious experience. Something tells me Liam has never been in an Uber before. Probably never been in a public transport in his billionaire life.
"Are you ready for something new?" I ask him.
"If it's with you, then yes."
This excites me in a way I can’t describe. The ride shows up and I turn to Liam.
"Ready to go?"
"You mean in that car? Isn't that a stranger? Or is that a friend of yours?"
I pull him towards the car.
"Liam, you’re so out of it. Everybody uses Uber these days."
"Oh, so this is an Uber? he says. "I guess I'm always up for something new."
We get in the car and make small talk with the driver. I can tell this is a novel experience for Liam who’s used to a life of luxury. I wonder if he feels as out of his element here as I do in his world? His world of opulence is as foreign to me as this car ride is to him.
The driver eventually pulls up to my building. Liam has never been here and I think it'll be a nice surprise to show him where I work.
"Where are we?" he says.
"This is Epica. I want you to see my company and where I work," I say as we exit the car.
Liam takes in the ancient brick façade of my building and his eyes seemed to light up. I take him inside and virtually everyone stops to stare at us. Big names never swing by, and even if he wasn’t, Liam’s looks is enough to get anyone’s attention here.
Charlotte is the first to greet us.
"Oh hi, Liam, nice to see you again."
"I thought it was time that Liam saw the way the other half work," I say.
I show him around the building and he seems impressed.
"We definitely have a different way of operating around here. I believe in nurturing the creative spirit in people."
"I can see that," he says, avoiding a skateboard that someone left on the ground.
"I'm an artist above anything else. I believe that people who are artistic should have a certain sense of freedom in an environment that fosters their ingenuity."
I take him around to the various offices and introduce him to some of the people that work for me. No one seems to recognize him, and I think that's good for his ego, to not be known for once. He’s always used to people being so thrilled to finally be introduced to him, he takes meeting people for granted.
People are working hard and some of them barely have a moment to look up and say hi to Liam. I subtly watch him as he takes note of this. I think he’s genuinely interested to see what Epica is like and my heart swells for him.
I continue to show him my well-decorated space.
"We don't really have rules around here. I trust my people and I give them all manner of flexibility they need. We make up our own hours here and as you can see there's different things to ignite an expressive and innovative mood."
People have standing desks and stability balls. There's a video game lounge and even a room that could be considered a spa. I have a masseuse come in once a week.
Expensive art adorns the walls and yet it doesn't quite cover the exposed brick that's at least a century old.
I try to give him more details about our company practices.
"In here we have a combination of old and new, trendy and classic, black and white, etc. I feel that a blend of opposites is essential to help those creative sparks fly. Don't you think?"
He holds me by the waist.
"This is a world away from my corporate environment. If you saw my office now you'd likely be disappointed. It's nothing like this."
I'm happy about his reaction. Most people have this sense of interest when they see how I've situated the office. I just know how it needs to be because I'm an artist. I know where I would want to work and so I've created that exact environment.
A part of me wants to lament the fact that I may have to close my company. I wish I could confide in Liam about such matters, but I hold my tongue.
Instead, I take him into my office and he walks around the room and examines all my little treasures.
There are mirrors and rugs, art and artifacts. I have little pieces of memorabilia from every country I've ever visited. I certainly haven't traveled the world as much is Liam, but I've made it a point to get around.
"What's this?" he asks holding up an artistic mask.
"That is from Zimbabwe. I went on a safari there not too long ago."
"And this?" he examines my little Buddha statue.
"Blessed by monks. I got that in Tibet. It was a magical trip."
"I've never been."
He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in close. I can smell his cologne and the strength of his body makes me feel safe.
"You need to go to Tibet. You would love it." I place my hands on his chest.
He looks into my eyes and kisses me. I feel like we've formed a new kind of connection now that I've let him into my life a little bit more. I've exposed him to my work environment and because it defines me it means a lot to have him here.
We kiss in my office and I can tell everyone's staring at us through the glass. It's times like these I wish I installed real walls instead of transparent ones.
He kisses me hard and unabashedly. I get the feeling Liam could
care less who watches us.
I think bringing him here to my office was a good idea. Maybe it will shake him up a bit and help them to realize that the corporate world is not everything.
Liam
Claire's got me in her office and it's interesting being led by a woman for once.
I have to say that seeing where she works is an unusual experience for me. She practices some unique concepts in her workplace environment, and I think it seem to work for the people working for her.
Her little creative oasis is a far cry from my corporate building.
Now I feel kind of glad that she hasn't seen my building. She's been in my private penthouse, yes, but not my office. To her, it might seem more standard and ordinary than ever.
Her building is odd and offbeat. It has an unrestrained quality of freedom that one normally doesn’t find in an office space. She really has tried to make something here, something fresh and innovative and I admire that.
All her employees seem extremely happy. Their own offices are decked out with every manner of toy and trinket that could make work feel less like a tedious experience.
I hold her in my arms and take the opportunity to tell her how I feel.
"This place is...amazing. You really built your own little empire here. I see your vision clearly," I tell her in all honesty.
She smiles at me, proud of the work system she implements, and delivers the final kiss between before pulling me to the couch in her office.
"Want a drink?" she asks.
"Why not?" I say.
She has a mirrored little bar in her office. It's quaint and cute, very Claire.
She doesn't even bother to ask what I want but makes us each a vodka soda.
I'm starting to unpeel some of the layers to Claire. She's not what she seems at all. She may not have a ton of money or be good at business, but she is immensely talented. It's no wonder she can create such amazing ads when the place she works is so attuned to creativity.
Her mission is to stay away from a corporate atmosphere and I'd say she's succeeded.
She brings me my drink and curls up next to me.
"So," she says. "How would you say my company measures up to your own?"
It's an easy question.
"Well, for starters, you’re very hands-on. At Dignity Creative I hardly ever delve into the process itself. I'm more of a manager."
She looks surprised.
"You are? Don't you miss being in the thick of it? Within all the creativity?"
"Not really. I used to work a lot on that side of things but then the company got so large that I hired people to do that for me."
"I don't know how you work like that Liam. Don't you like to get your hands dirty in every aspect of the business?"
I think this is rich coming from someone who has virtually no experience in the business world. Claire's mismanaging her firm if you can even call it a firm. I want to tell her this but I hold back not wanting to offend.
"Being artistic isn't everything Claire. You'll come to see that one day. You do too much work to build your business. Why don't you hand it off to the people that work for you?"
She pulls away from me and I can I made her angry with my blatant honesty. Whether I've said too much or not she needs to hear the truth.
"Because, I like the work. I don't want to just tell people what to do all day. I want to make things happen. Creativity is about putting your vision to life. Only you can see it, so how do you expect others to put it to life as you wish it to be?"
I lean back into the sofa and think I don't like where this is going. She's getting pretty heated and not in a good way.
"Well, I like my work too Claire," I say, defending myself. "But there are different aspects of it that you just don't understand. Keep in mind that I'm running a billion-dollar corporation and you have a little brick-and-mortar company."
Her eyes turn angry. She's become enraged and pulls away from the crook of my arm. She goes off on me.
"You know what Liam? I don't know where you get off saying that to me. I'm trying to be as unlike your company as possible. You're nothing but a suit. And I think you have a lack of work ethic because you refuse to get your hands dirty. You're nothing but a cold, faceless head of a company and that’s nothing to be proud of."
Now I'm pissed. She's insulting my work ethic? I'm a goddamn billionaire. Her company is about to fold. You do the math.
I'm not about to stay here and be insulted like this.
I get up to leave but not before giving her a piece of my mind.
"Claire, you got it all wrong. You don't know anything about business. And because of that your company's gonna go under. Don't you see that I'm trying to help you? You're not running things right."
She stands up to face me angrily.
"Liam, you’re not the guy I thought you were. You come off as this creative, artistic person and now I realize you're just like all the rest. How dare you tell me how to run my company."
Her words infuriate me. She doesn't even know who I am. She knows the face I present to her, nothing deeper than that.
"That's fine Claire. Then we don't need to see each other anymore," I say as I take my leave.
"Maybe that's best," she says as tears form in her eyes.
The image of her sad like that makes me feel terrible. I might be a bastard sometimes, but I can't stand to see a woman cry.
She's so very beautiful and vulnerable that I hate to leave her like this. But I can’t offer her solace now. I also have my wounded ego to nurse.
She and I are obviously different people and we'll never be on the same plane.
I turn and leave her there to cry. I storm out of the building and walk down the street to meet my waiting limousine.
My blood is boiling with rage. I've never had a woman talk to me like that before. Who does she think she is?
In the car I determine that Evan might've been right. We need to take over Claire's company because obviously she doesn't understand business at all.
I'll be doing her a favor. She’ll see.
Liam
I'm back in my office, in the penthouse where I belong.
That little foray into Claire's world was interesting but it’s definitely not me.
I like things bigger and better, always. That’s how successful people work. Always on a big scale, always expansive, always aiming for growth.
I'm fuming actually, and analyzing all the things she said to me. She's not right. She doesn't even know me. I've let her into my world just a little bit and she thinks she can tell me how it is.
My need to dominate her has not gone away. A part of me still wants to make sure she never touches another guy.
But at this point, I don't want to see her. I think things between us may sincerely be over.
My head is spinning with all things Claire. I try to wipe her from my mind but it doesn't work.
I decide to double down and try to win the Velvet Luxe account. I'll show her what it means to be creative. I would love to be the reason that she doesn't win this client. Then she will understand my point.
I tell my secretary not to let anybody bother me for the rest of the day. I lock myself in the office and work for hours and hours perfecting my ideas.
Once I open up the folder and see all of my designer's ideas I realize they have it all wrong. I delegated the task to them and yet I see that their work is not as good as I thought. I can certainly do better.
This makes me question whether Claire was right. Maybe I haven't been involved enough. Maybe I should be more a part of the artistic process. But I can’t always be hands-on in every campaign. That’s what your employees are for.
I’ll never admit that she's right. But I’ll pour my heart and soul into this campaign to make sure that she doesn't win it. That's how pissed I am. Now, I'm invested in her ruin.
Trish comes in at various points to bring me coffee and food. But I barely take a second off from work. I’m solely in ch
arge now of making this the most prestigious advertising campaign the world has ever seen.
I'm sketching and drawing and digitizing my ideas. I've got papers drawn out all over the place. My office is a mess and I like it that way. It reminds me of the old days when I used to do my own work.
Night falls upon the city and soon I'm all alone in the building. Even Trish has left. I don’t mind, and I felt freedom knowing there won’t be anyone to disturb me at all.
I blast some music over the speakers and continue to work. I find that it helps me to be inspired more and get the creative juices flowing.
I think of Claire and of her company and how artistic it was. Maybe it inspired me or maybe it's my fury at her, but I feel the zeal to create like I haven't felt in such a long time.
I paint my sketches and draw my ideas. The penthouse has turned into an artist's studio in the span of 10 hours.
This is the first time in a long time that I remember why I got into this business to begin with.
I work all night to make my ideas a reality. Time passes quickly and I don't even realize it. I'm genuinely enjoying the process and I think that's ironic considering the hell I just gave Claire about hers.
I haven't entirely forgiven her but as I work she's in my thoughts. I try to forget her but images of her beautiful face cross my mind frequently.
I consider that this is the way Claire works every single day. She makes it her mission to be involved in every project. That has perhaps kept her company small, but I think she's made it that way on purpose. She seems to disdain everything impersonal, everything corporate.
I still don't think she's right. She obviously doesn't know how to run a business. Running a small business is definitely different from handling a large scale one. But maybe there's something to the fact that as the boss, the CEO, I need to be a little bit more involved.
This is especially obvious by the way I see that my designers have not done a good job. I need to micromanage them a little bit better. Or perhaps hire a whole new staff because the concepts I've seen are not up to par with my standards.
Without this fight with Claire, I never would have seen the flaws in my business. I never would've looked into the designer's work or my own management process. I've been operating on cruise control. It's an easy way to live but also a dispassionate one.
