by BAKER, J. B.
My God, had she writhed and squirmed under the pressure of my tongue and fingers. She had opened her legs so wide for me in a sort of reflexive beseeching gesture. Just the sight and taste of the lavender-pink pleats of her pussy had seared my mind into oblivion. It hadn’t taken long after that and I was buried deep inside of her, coaxing her forth until she came apart for me. Her persistent whimpering had done the rest; I came so hard like never before in my life.
Come to think of it – I have never had the same since. I was so addicted to her that we did it again and again, resuming our passion for one another the following morning. That went against everything I ever did with girls. Again, I just don’t do repeats, not with women I know that don’t have it in them to remain focused on the physical. Back then, I instinctively knew that Rachel had wanted more. I admit that I was tempted at the time, but my devotion to my daughter wouldn’t let me break the promise I made when my wife died.
Fuck me, I’ve had girls after that, but none of them had her dreamlike mystic. I briefly think of my team of hot assistants that I change on a sort of rotating basis, to keep things fresh and exciting. I fucked assistants 1, 2, 3, and 4 over the past two weeks. They never resist. I will allow things to go on like that for a while longer before I switch them around again – maybe another month or so. I always discovered that women fully open their charms to a man after a few months. It’s when it gets really exciting, but also more dangerous.
Rachel shuffles before me. I realize that the silence has played on for too long. I chuckle inwardly when I see the angry flush on her cheeks. Oh my God, she’s pissed off. I flash her a smile. It only infuriates her more.
Chapter 4
RACHEL
I’ve got a pair of eyes too, you know. I can’t believe the only thing he can do after two years and what he did to me is stare at my tits for the better part of five minutes. He hasn’t changed in the least. He says hi and ogles my breasts, disgusting. I bet that’s what he does with all of his assistants on a daily basis. You, Sean Courtney, are the most shameless scallywag there is. I sue you for sexual harassment and you make it go away with an amazing offer and the first thing you do when I walk back into your office is stare at my tits. Damn, is that all women are good for in his world?
I flinch when I see him scowl. The gesture makes the dark-haired Adonis – no, too effeminate – the Gerard Butler look-alike, appear feral. Jesus, I remember him looking like that when he took me from behind on his yacht. I had never done that with a man before. Argh, so demeaning and subservient. And yet, with him, it had been so hot, steamy and dirty all at the same time. I feel the empty space between my legs pulse with wanting. I can’t believe my body could betray me so much. The man is a rogue and a chauvinistic pig. How can I react to him like this?
I feel my resolve weaken with another flick of his eyelids. I decide he looks better than ever dressed in beige slacks, an open white linen shirt, and Golden Goose trainers. I am sure he has lost weight since the last time I saw him. It feels as if he has been preparing for this meeting for quite some time.
“Hi, Sean. Sorry that I can’t ditto you on the enthusiasm front. Seeing you was always the last thing on my agenda.”
I can’t help myself. The words shoot past my lips before I can stop them. The sight of the man who used me so predatorily makes me sick to the core. Also, I want to take some of the wind out of his sails. It had always been Sean’s tactic to disarm people with his charm.
“Aw, don’t be like that, Rachel. We’re all friends here.”
“That’s probably the last thing we are, Sean.” I scan the overly large office for a moment. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
“You never were one to be overly generous with words - always straight to the point. I always liked that about you.” He pleats his brow. “Although, in some cultures, it’s considered the height of bad manners to skip the necessary pleasantries in favour of direct business speak.”
“Oh, spare me the lecture, Sean. Now that was always something I hated about you – too much talk. You’re full of shit.”
I notice the receptionist fidgeting next to me. She obviously can’t believe what is happening. I guess nobody speaks to Mr Courtney like that and gets away with it. At least, nobody she has ever seen. Assistant Number 3 or 4 does her utmost to appear inconspicuous in the face of such antagonism. She slowly moves back in the direction of the double doors to escape the confrontation.
“My dear, Rachel, all we had was some kind of a small misunderstanding all of those years ago.” Sean raises his hands and spreads his fingers. “It was nothing, really…”
“Nothing? You call what happened nothing? Only a pig and an arrogant bastard would say that seducing his employee on his multi-million Dollar yacht and then fucking her…damn, I had feelings for you.”
I sense the heat rise up to my cheeks. Why the hell did I just say that? Damn, I said I felt something for him. I don’t, I never did. He’s an asshole and, because of him, I am even swearing right now. And that look he is giving me with those piercing green eyes – it is so infuriating, argh. He is so freaking sure of himself. I bet the bastard thinks I would take him here and now with his assistant watching and maybe even joining in for a ménage à trois. I can’t believe this is happening to me right now. I press my lips together, forcing the turmoil of emotions evoked by the man to the side.
“You literarily had me thrown off the boat. Why, Sean? Afraid you might fall in love with me, huh? Because God forbid that would ever happen. Sean bloody Courtney loves nobody but himself.”
“What do you think, Rachel?”
The smile on Sean’s face is infuriating. He never took anything seriously before and he still doesn’t.
How he just said my name is just as intense as two years ago. He owns it. He speaks it in that voice that is treacle thick, its resonance and power sort of sticking to my ears. It sounds strangely erotic, like speech poured lazily over my body in honeyed caresses. It’s weird seeing him again, it’s even weirder having these strange feelings for him despite what he did to me. It sucks to need something from him. And I hate how my body reacts to his every gesture. Without being able to control it, the hairs on my arms stand erect, like little towers, contradicting the anger and derision that I should be feeling.
Next to me, the receptionist juts into motion. I turn my head. “You are the kindest and most generous man I know, Mr Courtney.”
“You see – thank you very much, Stacey, for making my point.” Sean waved his hand dismissively.
I roll my eyes. This is ridiculous. I stare at her, watching her glimmer proudly like a Christmas tree with all of its lights on. Am I the only woman on the planet who is able to resist this man’s charm? I sometimes question my own sex’s sanity. Women have no need for a predator such as Sean. I always considered myself the model example of the self-made woman who has no reliance on a man’s whims. I am an independent woman. And yet, it appears that all of my principles will be put to the test in the next hour. I am feeling stuff I haven’t felt in a while. It is so faint and I hardly recognize it.
Yet, the dark shadow of hypocrisy gnaws on my bones – I am the same slut as blonde Number 3 or 4 who has finally been given a name. Stacey and I are both sluts who have let our bodies be used for the whims of Mr Sean Courtney. Oh, God, how I hate what I did back then.
“So, now that you are here, we can discuss my proposal.”
For a heartbeat, I am confused by Sean’s direct approach. I always thought that I was the one petitioning him. Something is wrong here. Who asked who for this meeting? Nothing makes sense to me anymore. It must have something to do with the hot flushes coursing all over me. I am just not my normal, controlled self. Michonne would be shocked if she saw me. Oh, how I wish she were here.
“Good to see you again, Rachel.” He holds out his hand. “Shall we start over?”
I hesitate for a moment. I would much rather slap him in the face and tell him what I think of him. For a heart
beat, all sorts of highly colourful and very vulgar descriptions for the man come to mind. I bite down on my lower lip as I take his hand. “I don’t know why I’m doing this.” I hiss.
“You’re curious and all smart people are curious.” Sean winks and blazes his perfect white teeth at me.
I inhale deeply. This guy is more intense than ever and he also looks better than ever. I am suddenly assaulted with the memory of the last time I saw him in the flesh. We had just done it again the following morning on his boat. I bite on my lower lip again. It had been so incredible and somehow better than the night before. The force coming from him had been wanton and sensual. Sean had devoured my body like no other man. Thanks to him, I have never had sex after that. That and the fact that he never had the decorousness to present the settlement offer to me personally gives me two very good reasons to hate him.
I suddenly have the undying urge to escape the room and get away from Mr Sean Courtney. Men like him are not to be trusted. I opened myself up to him completely. I let him in despite my better judgment. He had been relentless and impossible to resist. At first, I tried to remain professional. However, he had laid it on thick with all the trappings wealth can provide. Before I knew it, I was putty in his hands, malleable and weak for him to do with as he pleased. The result being that he used me shamelessly and discarded me like an unwanted wrapping.
So, that was that: The theory of persistence and strength of will wore down my walls of rejection and that damn silky tongue of his seduced me like a cobra. For fuck’s sake, I slept with him. He had promised me so much. His words pierced my resistance with saccharine possibilities and even more subtle whispers of where making love would take us. Yes, that is what he had called it. Not fucking, sex or sleeping with each other, but making love. It had been all I needed to hear. My defences fell away and I did what I always promised myself I would never do.
I know now that all he had uttered were empty platitudes to get me into bed. I shudder when I think of how sweet he had been. After we had made love – no, fucked is the more suitable way of describing what we did – he had been so excited.
Chapter 5
SEAN
“Were you offered something to drink, Rachel?”
She seems lost in thought. I can see her mind working behind that gorgeous face of hers. What’s she thinking about? Is it about me? I wait some more. It’s as if she didn’t hear me.
I have to think of some way to make her forgive me. I feel as if I could tell her everything. It’s the way I had felt back then. I know that it won’t help. I know Rachel. When she has made her mind up, it’s for good. Back then when she worked for me, she had been a no-bullshit girl. She is a great girl and a real looker; why did I have to fuck that up?
I know she had feelings for me back then. I can sense that sort of thing the moment it blossoms in a woman. It had worried me sick. It catapulted me into a state of limbo. I can still recreate what it felt like to sleep with her, to hold her after and have her lie in my arms. It had been raw, tender and deep all at the same time. And then I had the instinctive drive to get away from her as fast as possible. It’s what I always did and still do.
Nowadays, when I fuck a girl, it’s just raw. There’s nothing meaningful about it, just the satiating of my needs. I never care about what they want. It’s all about me. Maybe my heart’s not big enough to accommodate two people. Women have a tendency to complicate things. There is only one constant female in my life and I made my peace with the fact many years ago that she would always be the only one.
For some strange reason, I felt like shit when I told Rachel that I had to leave after we had slept together. I had more-or-less just climaxed and I was already gone. I had not been myself that morning. It was all too much. All of the emotions I felt the night before when we had worked together and shared a meal had fried the neurons in my brain. It had been like when my wife was still alive. Somehow, Rachel had the same verve and joi de vivre as she did. I switched off all emotions so that I could focus on the task at hand. I had needed to be strong to do what was necessary.
Rachel didn’t need a man with so much baggage in her life, so I decided to call it off. There was no space for her on my ride. My destination was an entirely different one. I know I could have fallen in love with her, but I wasn’t going to allow myself to do it. But, for the first time, I was angry with myself for not having considered her feelings in the matter. I remember how angry I was when she sued me. I even called her all of the names under the sun.
“Rachel, were you offered a drink?” I ask again, banishing the thoughts.
She shakes her head. “No, I wasn’t.”
“What the fuck, Stacey! What do you think this place is, huh? A fucking shithole?” I shout.
I see Rachel looking at the chastened receptionist, feeling sorry for her. She knows what it is like to work for me. For some, the experience borders on hell. I have no qualms venting my anger on any hapless victim in public. As a winner, I only have respect for winners. Do what I ask and competently, and you’ll have no beef with me. Cross me or disappoint me, then all hell breaks loose.
“Oh, Stacey, running away never helps. Come back here, please,” I say in a softer tone this time.
Stacey turns around and comes back meekly. “Now, we’ll have a nice chilled bottle of my favourite Bollinger Champagne and some strawberries to go with it, please. Off you go, Stacey,” I say, slapping her on the butt, forcing her to giggle. In seconds, she scuttles out of the office.
I see Rachel roll her eyes. I know she disapproves of me. It awakens my predatory instincts. I would love nothing more than to seduce her again. The conquest always is the best bit. Sex is just the act that inevitably follows. Once completed, it is bland and without merit. It is how I have always felt since the death of my wife. Coming to think about it, Rachel was the first woman who made me think differently.
“Champagne – what is there to celebrate?”
I snap my head in her direction. I see her eyeing me closely with a confused expression on her face. It’s as if she is trying to read my mind.
“Oh, just two old friends hooking up again after a long time.”
“We’re far from being friends, Sean.”
“So you keep saying.” I shrug. “Then let’s toast to one of the largest mergers in the history of this country, eh?”
I phrase my words like a question, but Rachel knows me better. I never make suggestions or ask people to do things – what I say is law and I am invariably right.
“That’ll do for me,” she says.
I can tell she wants to quickly move on to the real reason for her presence in London. Like an animal, I can sense her discomfort. I know how much she wants to get away from me. However, at the same time, I sense how attracted she still is to me. Slight occasional flushes on her ears and cheeks give her away. Most of all, the way a few lines appear on her forehead when she forces a thought away, is an open display that she is fighting to resist me with every fibre of her body.
“Take a seat, Rachel…no, no right over here,” I say, preventing her from sitting down on the chair in front of my desk. Instead, I point at the soft leather sofa rounding one side of my office. Rachel does as she’s told and sits down.
I smile at her for the umpteenth time since she walked into my office. Like a tomcat, I mosey over to her. Instead of sitting opposite Rachel on one of the comfortable soft leather chairs, I sit down next to her. In seconds, I snuggle right up close and flash her another smile. The heady scent of her female musk, laced with perfume, overwhelms me.
I realize this is another one of the things that got me two years ago. Not only does this woman taste like candy, but she also smells like the rose gardens of Picardy. She is a masterpiece. I let the heady aroma seduce me for a while longer until the all-pervasive reprimand comes: fuck her, yes, but don’t you even consider anything more.
I don’t notice Rachel nearly suffocating next to me. She struggles for a few seconds. I am so close
that I can hear her breathing. The heat in the small space that separates our bodies starts to build up like an electrical field. Without waiting for another second, she gets up and walks to the chair opposite and sits down. The bloom on her cheeks is even more pronounced. I ask myself whether it is out of anger or lust.
“Haven’t you learned your lesson, Sean?”
“What lesson?” I snap, as I try to force the prior emotion of not needing a woman in my life to the back of my mind.
Rachel is taken aback by my vehemence for a millisecond, but she recomposes quickly. “Isn’t one sexual harassment lawsuit for wrongful dismissal enough? I’m still surprised that I was the only woman to sue you.”
I raise my hands. “Let’s just let bygones be bygones, shall we?
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“There’s no need for you to worry. You no longer work for me.” I chuckle. “So, I guess I can make as many moves on you as I like.” Seeing the expression on her face become truculent, I change tack. “You are only here because I need you for something important.”
“And what’s that?”
“Everything in good time.” I wink at her. “You look great, Rachel.”
She really does look fantastic in her ‘I’m ready for business’ kind of look. Unlike when she was in the throes of orgasm on my yacht, her blonde hair is tied behind her head in a silky ponytail. I always thought that she had an understated beauty that only a true connoisseur of women can enjoy. In truth, she is an exceptional gem that most men can appreciate, but not draw on. Rachel just has the rare talent of being able to look plain when she wants to, even though that is the complete opposite of what she is. The fact that she is so disarmingly unaware of her prettiness makes her all the more alluring.
