by Claire Adams
That merited a laugh. “Really? Sleeping with your employees would be your fault,” she said with mischievous grin.
“Me screwing around with some tellers is hardly a scandal. They’ve all been of age and don’t work here anymore because they can’t handle that it was a one-time thing.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Not you. You know better than to think you’re just a one-time thing,” I said, trying to save myself.
“What am I, then?” She challenged.
What had gotten into her today? This was not at all like her; she was usually graceful, intelligent, and charming. It was stupid for me to have answered Gina’s call just when Aria was scheduled to come.
Gina was my ex-wife and the bane of my existence. She was the daughter of my mom’s oldest friend, and they had decided Gina and I would be married the second we were born. By the time I realized how wrong they were, we had already been married for five years. I was just lucky we never had any children; if it were up to Gina, though, we would have had quite a few. I suppose she thought I would never leave her if kids were involved. And perhaps I wouldn’t, and I must’ve known that deep down inside because I always turned down the idea of having kids until I was more settled with the bank, my first child. Truthfully, I had been settled with the bank years ago and just kept convincing her and myself that we weren’t ready to have kids. We had filed for divorce last year, and although it hadn’t completely gone through yet, she was still out of my life.
Not according to my mother though. That’s the real reason I had gone to New York: to deal with this bullshit. My mother had attempted what I was convinced was a fake suicide at a hotel room in NYC, drinking half a bottle of whiskey with some painkillers—just the right amount for her to pass out dramatically, but not quite enough to cause any permanent damage. I saw right through it since she used to pull crap like that with dad all the time. Yet when I went to the hotel and saw her, pale and weak and miserable, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.
Leave it to Eleanor Sinclair to milk my sympathy for all it was worth; she quickly went on a long rant about how my divorce was taking a toll on her, how Gina was the perfect girl for me, and how my happiness was the only thing keeping her alive. I tried to explain to her that Gina did the precise opposite of making me happy: for one, she had cheated on me more times than I could count, and I was pretty confident that she loved my money more than me. And most importantly, I had never quite loved her. I thought I did at some point, but it was an illusion built on lust and inspired by her beauty, not to mention my parents insisting that she was perfect for me.
Until last year. I found out she was cheating, and was hardly surprised – some part of me knew all along. I had a solid reason to file for divorce. My mother knew what she had done and somehow found a way to blame me for it. “If only you didn’t work all the time, Zay,” she had said. “A woman has needs, and Gina was getting really lonely. Sure, she could have dealt with it better, but a lonely woman is never thinking straight. She feels a lot of remorse, and you’re a coward if you can’t accept it and forgive her.”
My own mother. Of course she would take her side though; how many times had she cheated on my dad? And now she had pulled this whole fake attempt at killing herself, and decided to use that as bait for getting me to try again with Gina. She wouldn’t stop wailing until I agreed to sign up for couple’s counseling.
That’s what the call was about. All too anxious to jump back into my life, Gina wanted to start the counseling right away, under the guise of “making momma happy, we owe it to her.” I didn’t want to deal with that yet, so I was meeting her to discuss the right time for that. But I had to be careful about Aria finding out. She would never forgive me. She seemed like a righteous girl, and I had a feeling she wouldn’t even give me a chance to explain myself. Even if she did, what could I say exactly? “Oh, I’m thirty-two years old but my mom is making me try and get back with my ex-wife?” It would sound ridiculous.
All this craziness was what had led me to my rule; having sex with a girl once and moving on. I didn’t have time for any more lunatic women.
But Aria wasn’t going to stop asking questions. Why was she so stubborn? I admired this in her; she wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted, which sometimes was absolutely infuriating.
I was the same way though.
“How long has the situation with the loan officer been bothering you? Is that why you were really in New York?” She asked.
“No,” I said and grinned at her, trying to change the topic. “I went to New York to get you your present.”
She blushed at that and I sighed. “Now let’s not waste another minute.”
I approached her with a fiery kiss, opening her mouth with my tongue, exploring. I could feel her melt under my breath and I was glad that I possessed the skills needed to distract her. My hands found her firm breasts and her nipples were already as hard as my dick. I began to lower my head with the intention of kissing her breasts, but she grabbed my hand with surprising force. Her eyes burning with desire, she said, “Not yet,” and then got on her knees.
Watching her unzip my pants was enough to make my mind completely forget about Gina and all my troubles, my eyes and my head firmly focused on Aria ready to take me in her mouth.
When she did, I lost all control and began moving. I grabbed her head and plunged as hard as I could in her mouth, reaching deep within her throat. She sucked and tried to keep up with my movements as I fucked her face faster and faster. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before I was ready to explode.
“I’m fucking coming,” I said with the few words I could muster, and tried to take myself out of her mouth. To my great surprise, she held on tighter to my ass and shook her head.
“Jesus,” I groaned, all but ready to pour myself into her.
“I want to taste you,” she choked out.
Those words were enough to make me shake into a burst of pleasure, as I came hard inside her mouth, holding on tighter to her head. She sucked until I was emptied completely, and she looked at me as I dropped to the couch. Still on her knees, she swallowed part of my cum, while some of it dripped down her pretty little lips.
“Lick your lips,” I said, still reeling from the orgasm, and she complied. I was starting to get hard again almost immediately from watching her.
I was breaking the rule I had set and I didn’t care.
“You tasted amazing,” she said, getting off her knees and approaching me on the couch.
I grinned. She was turning into a sex vixen, something all my other girls never were. She leaned in to kiss me. Her tongue was still warm and I found my hand reach her pussy. “Are you ready for another?” She whispered against my mouth.
I took her hand and placed it where my dick was protruding again. “Can’t you feel how ready I am?”
With that, I grabbed her and threw her on to the couch. “God, I’ve fucking missed you,” I said, working my mouth all over her body, experiencing every inch of her delicious, smooth skin.
“I missed you too,” she moaned, raking her fingers through my hair. Then she kissed my forehead while massaging my temples with her thumbs. I pulled my lips from her neck and she tilted her head down to take my lips into her mouth.
My dick was throbbing again, pushing against her thigh. I snaked my hand in between us and grabbed hold of her mound through her jeans. I made swift circles with the palm of my hand and she moaned into my mouth.
Our tongues danced around each other's as her hands pulled my hair tight. She pulled away from me and leaned back, sitting upright on my throbbing cock. She unbuttoned my shirt while biting her lip. She pulled it off each arm so it was resting behind me and then traced each of my defined muscles with her fingertips before kissing every inch of my chest. I threaded my fingers through her hair and pulled her upright again.
“Take it off,” I groaned, tugging at the bottom of her T-shirt.
I hadn't ever seen he
r in a T-shirt and jeans but she looked just as good as she did in her tight fitting work clothes. A grin spread across her face and then she tore her shirt up and over her head, revealing a black lace bra. I unbuttoned her pants and ripped the zipper down exposing her matching black lace panties. She stood up on the couch and pushed her jeans down around her ankles before stepping out of them.
She unclasped the front of her bra, allowing her perky breasts with hard nipples to topple out. Then she playfully snaked out of her panties and kicked them on the floor, revealing her wet aching core. I licked my lips before grabbing her ass and pulling her down so she was sitting directly on my face. I twirled my tongue around her bulging clitoris.
“Oh my god,” she moaned, bracing herself on the couch with her hands.
Her legs pulled tight around my head and I knew she was about to go over the edge. I grabbed her harder, pulling all of her into my mouth to taste her beauty. Before she could cum I raised her up off of me. She reached down between our bodies and grabbed my dick that was aching to be engulfed in her pussy.
I tugged her head down and kissed her hard.
“Ride me,” I groaned into her.
She pulled away and grinned before kissing me once again. She sat up and then turned around, rubbing the tip of my cock against her slippery opening. I grabbed her hips and tugged her down, submerging my dick in her wet pussy.
“Ah,” we groaned in unison as she bounced up and down. Reverse cowgirl happened to be one of my favorite sex positions. Aria was truly giving me everything I wanted.
I tugged her up and down, sliding my dick through her pussy faster than ever. Then she pulled her legs tight against my hips as I continued to thrust in and out of her.
“Oh my god,” she shrieked out in an orgasm and shuddered. She continued to hold on to my legs as I burst about into my own orgasm.
“Holy fucking shit!” I shouted, pulling her off of me so I could shoot my cum all over us. When I was finished she fall flat onto the couch next to me, unable to move a single muscle.
“Next time, my bed,” I said when I could speak again. “It was supposed to be the bed tonight, but you walked in with those tight jeans of yours and I couldn’t help myself.”
“I don’t think a bed would make any difference.”
“You’ll be surprised Aria.” She looked so serene, lying naked in my office sofa. “I’ll show you just what your body is capable of.”
Then I pulled her into my arms and we both slowly fell asleep.
Chapter 5
Aria
“He sounds amazing, Aria!” Stacey said the next morning when I went home. “Swoon, baby, swoon. Can’t even imagine how you feel.”
“Amazing.” I hadn’t been able to wipe the huge grin off my face no matter how hard I tried.
“You already said that,” Stacey chuckled. “Like about five hundred times. In the last hour.”
“I know. But you don’t understand. He’s so—“
“Amazing?” she offered.
“Yes. And sexy. Did I tell you he’s getting my paper published?”
“Yep. More than once. And I’ll have to butt in here and remind you that you got your paper published. He simply geared it towards the right direction.”
“But it wouldn’t have happened without him.” I sounded way more defensive than I had intended. “And he even helped me research it. You know how confident I am about my work, Stace. Not at all. I would never submit my work to an influential journal. I kind of owe him a lot.”
“I’m sure he thinks you don’t, since you seem to be already returning favors,” she said and winked.
I hit her with a pillow. “Shut up, Stace. And it’s more of a favor to me anyway.” Trying not to blush, I changed the subject. “So what’s new with you, anyway?”
“Nothing in the scale of enthralling romance with a handsome billionaire.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for completely ignoring my attempt to change the subject.”
“You’re welcome, anytime. And you know I’m just teasing, right? I am happy for you. I’ve never seen you this excited about a guy in all the time I’ve known you. One might even say you’re in looove.”
I gasped. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Yeah, I don’t really think you are either. I’ll probably know first since I know you better than you know yourself. I am going to make a wild guess and say that you are beginning to fall for him.”
“Yeah…I am so screwed,” I said, burying my head underneath the pillow on the couch. Was I really beginning to fall for him? I couldn’t be! I didn’t even know him very well. I mean I did, on principal – I knew what he did for a living and I knew where he went to college. I knew all these random facts about him. Me and every other girl in the world with a magazine and internet access.
Plus everything he’d done for me since the contract.
Zayden Sinclair was an absolute pleasure to hang around. I could be myself with him, I realized to my own surprise. I never pretended or put on a face; I always said the first thing that came to my mind and he found my lame jokes funny, and enjoyed my company, just the way I was. Being with Zayden – around Zayden – was comfortable, easy, and natural. The fact that we seemed to get along so well was incredible given the differences in our social status. Yet this did not seem to matter at all when we were around each other. We were always just two people, enjoying each other’s company, and no external factors about who he was and who I was seemed to ever matter.
Stacey was right. I was falling for him. I was in trouble.
---
By the time I got to work that day, I was still reeling thinking about Zayden and last night. Every customer and coworker could sense my giddiness from a mile away, I was sure, and it didn’t bother me at all. Every chance I got, I looked over at him through his glass doors, feeling wonderful. There was nothing like watching Zayden hard at work. His passion shone through the distance between us, and I had noticed that any time he was frustrated, he would screw his nose in the most adorable way and crush his stress ball. It made me wish I was his stress ball.
At some point I saw him loosen his tie in what I assumed was frustration and I just wanted to go over and put my arms around him, kissing his forehead. Unfortunately, we had an audience to worry about. Things would be so much easier if we weren’t doing this in secret. At the same time, I wasn’t sure Mrs. Brian’s judgmental looks were entirely welcome, and I didn’t want people to think there was any favoritism going on.
Not that this affected my job in any way. I still had the same shitty hours and the same shitty pay, and I was glad about it. I wanted to earn any career advances I made; however, people loved to talk and they would somehow manage to make me feel like I was getting special treatment—like extra-long bathroom breaks or something.
But more importantly, I wasn’t sure Zayden wanted to make our – I wasn’t sure what to call it, not relationship in any case – dalliance public just yet. Or ever, I realized with a sinking feeling in my heart. One of these evenings I would have to bring this up with him: yes, it was a contract, and yes, I knew where this was supposed to go all along. But things had obviously changed for me, and I wondered – and hoped more dearly than I liked – that they had changed for him too. He had taken me out in public, after all! And brought me a present from New York. Though that was hardly saying something. I had yet to even see the inside of his apartment. He had hinted a few times at taking me over there, but somehow we almost always found ourselves confined to his office. I mean, to be fair, we had both always been too eager to take each other’s clothes off the moment we were alone together. Still. It would be nice if he asked. I would like to feel more like a part of his life and get to know more about him like his family, friends, hobbies, and all that jazz.
And I would like to learn more from him. A lot more. One of the greatest unimagined benefits of our tryst had been just how much I had learned from Zayden. More than I had from most teachers. He was always willin
g and eager to talk me through the basics of management in the banking industry and whenever we talked about this stuff, his teasing persona would completely vanish. Solemnly, he would get into telling me details about his own experiences during his MBA, and getting into everyday examples from his job as CEO. When we were “studying,” he would even ignore my playful sexual advances, leading me to believe that he actually took me seriously. Coming from a misogynistic philanderer, it surprisingly meant a lot.
I couldn’t wait until everyone went home and I would walk into his office with all these new questions that I had been thinking about. With my shirt off. I would challenge him to keep his serious tone and make it very difficult. It would be amusing. Then, after we walked through all my questions, we would get back on his couch. Or maybe he would even invite me home…if we managed to keep our hands off each other through my long list of questions, after all, we could manage another few minutes to his house. I wondered what it was like. Probably bigger than any place I had ever seen. His bedroom was probably the perfect Martha Stewart representation of the Alpha male. Dark sheets and curtains. A drawer full of kinky things, I could bet. Things I would have no idea the purpose for. And he would probably want to show me.
“Aria,” I heard a male voice say, breaking me out of my embarrassing day dream. I looked up hoping to find Zayden, and was disappointed to find Dick’s face smiling down at me gleefully. Rick. I forced a smile.
“Hey! You look really pretty today,” he said. “Well, every day. But really, really pretty today.”
Annoyed but trying not to show it, I cleared my throat. “Thanks,” I said awkwardly. “What are you doing here?”
“Snappy. How flattering for my ego.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude or anything. Just wondering how come you’re at the bank. I’ve never seen you here before. And I thought you banked with Wells Fargo!”
