Burn Erotica

by Jade Stone

  We had worked together now for nine months, but things weren’t like they were. I was having more problems with Mark, and it was affecting my job. Whereas I had been able to deal with Jaron’s behaviour, it was becoming harder because I was becoming fragile. And I could tell he was having more problems with his wife, causing him to be more difficult to deal with. Unlike my fiancée, whom I could avoid talking to for a few days when I was mad at him, Jaron was my boss and avoiding him wasn’t an option. I was stuck with him five days a week.

  Even when he was overseas, he would call me incessantly during the day. Once again the uniqueness of my job struck me. I was stuck with this man five days a week for over fifty hours, much more time than I spent with the man I had at home. I would get a hard time at home, then get a hard time at work. I had nowhere to escape. I just put my head down and tried to get on with it.

  I knew I should’ve called my wedding off, but it was now two weeks away and I couldn’t bear the thought of telling over one hundred guests to cancel coming. I decided I would go through with it and deal with our issues afterward. But Mark had other ideas. Only ten days before the wedding, he told me we were over and the wedding was off. I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. I was absolutely shattered.

  I went to the next day in a daze. I was barely at my desk for a minute before Jaron burst out of his office.“What the fuck is wrong with these minutes?” he roared.

  “What? What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “You’ve sent me the minutes to the wrong meeting!” he yelled. He slammed the minutes on my desk.

  “Send me the right ones—now!”

  His door slammed shut. I looked at the minutes; how the hell did I manage to do that? Clearly I hadn’t been concentrating. I looked at the back of his office door. And suddenly felt rage boiling up inside me. Bastard. How dare he speak to me like that!

  I picked up the minutes, and went into his office. He was already talking to someone on that stupid headset. He gave me a WTF look as I stood there with the minutes clenched in my hand, but I was so angry I couldn’t speak. I bunched up the minutes into a ball, then hurled it at his head. He quickly moved and it hit the wall. He looked completely stunned. But I wasn’t done.

  “Get off that damn phone, you son of a bitch!” I screamed.

  Jaron quickly disconnected the call, but he was still so stunned he said nothing as he stared at me. That made me even wilder, and I grabbed the closest thing I could find, a glass framed certificate on the wall, and I hurled that at his head too, he darted out of the way. He finally found his voice.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he yelled.

  “I’m not your goddamn slave!” I yelled back. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Lord fucking Muck!”

  “Get out of my office!”

  “Fuck you!”

  But I was already on my way out. By then we had attracted quite a crowd, but at the sight of me, they all scattered back to their desks. I snatched up my bag, marched away from my desk, out of the building and to the carpark. I got in my car and drove home. As soon as I got in the driveway and stopped the car, I burst into tears. My wedding was off and I had to tell everyone, and I’d just had a huge fight with my boss. I started to feel faint, it was all too overwhelming.

  But I felt something else as well, it was undeniable. I wasn’t sure how, or when, but somewhere along the line, I had fallen in love with this mad man who was my boss.

  I could no longer work for Jaron McLachlan.

  Within an hour he was texting, asking where I was. I’ve gone home, I replied, I’m not coming back. He came back apologising, almost begging me to return. He knew he’d acted badly and deserved what I did. After a week, I still hadn’t returned to work. He tried to call, but I didn’t answer. He told me he didn’t want to do this, but if I didn’t return to work the next day, he would have to terminate my employment and hire someone else. I didn’t answer, and that was the last I heard from him for three years.

  I found myself another job as EA to a senior partner at an accounting firm. He was a mouse of a man, who barely came out of his office and would barely talk to me, sending his requests via email. And that was where I stayed for three years. In a way it was the perfect job, I considered it a form of hibernation.

  Three years later, I ran into a former colleague in the supermarket. She said I was still talked about at my old job, and greatly missed, but that Jaron had now left as well. There had been many changes. Miranda had moved on, but instead of Jaron being appointed to the CEO role, Paul Finch got it. Finch had made Jaron’s life hell until he resigned. He’d moved overseas and no one had heard from him again. His wife had not joined him; they were over.

  I felt a lump in my throat. As difficult as Jaron could be, he didn’t deserve to be forced out of his job. When my former colleague departed, I felt the tears drip down my face. I was still in love with Jaron three years on, and I missed him terribly. But I still couldn’t face contacting him.

  Luckily I was distracted. I had a wedding to go to that weekend. Louise, an old friend of mine from high school, was getting married. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. Ever since my own wedding had been cancelled, I didn’t exactly look forward to going to anyone else’s nuptials.

  I arrived at the wedding that weekend, sporting a brand new dress I was quite proud of, a slinky black gown that looked perfect with the pearl necklace my mother had given me.

  I took my place on the chairs in the gardens outside a giant old estate that was now a hotel, where the wedding reception would take place later that night, and where the bride and groom had booked their honeymoon suite.

  I watched lazily as the groom and his groomsmen took their places at the altar, then they turned around. My heart leapt into my mouth. There, standing amongst the four groomsmen, was Jaron McLachlan. I felt my heart start racing. My hands got clammy, and the blood in my veins started thumping very hard, especially between my thighs.

  I heard nothing as the bride and groom exchanged their vows, all I could concentrate on was Jaron, who hadn’t seen me yet. He had changed a bit since I’d last seen him, he looked thinner, and there were shots of grey through his hair. But he still looked great.

  Finally, the wedding vows were over, and everyone circled excitedly around the bride and groom to express congratulations and have photos with them. I looked around wildly for Jaron, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. Then someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, and came face to face with the boss I had walked out on three years earlier.

  “Hello. Woman!” he said, smiling.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Now, you listen to me—man!”

  Jaron’s face broke into a grin, and he grabbed me into a big bear hug. Neither of us let go for a long time.

  “Oh my God,” he said, into my hair. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

  “I know,” I said, with my eyes closed.

  We finally unlocked our embrace.

  “How do you know them?” I asked, gesturing at Louise and her husband.

  “Went to school with John,” he replied.

  “I went to school with Louise!” I said.

  “Let’s get a drink,” he said.

  We went to the drinks table, where he poured us both a wine, as he told me he had gone to work in Japan, but he was now back for good; he couldn’t bear being so far from his kids any longer. We took a seat in the garden. He asked me what the hell had happened, what had he done to make me walk out on him and never return. I told him about my break up, and he sat there listening. Jaron had definitely mellowed since I last saw him; he never used to listen, unless it was to respond.

  He no longer had the wildness in his blue eyes; he was much calmer, more mature perhaps. I guess losing your wife and your job at the same time can do that to you. But we weren’t there long before he was called to join the wedding party for photos.

  “Now, I’ll be back. Please don’t leave this time!” he said
.

  I grinned at him. The photos took forever, especially because I didn’t know anyone else at the wedding, which made the time go slower and slower. When the photos were done it was time to move into the estate for the reception, where Jaron was required to sit with the wedding party. I sat at a table with three couples who largely ignored me as they conversed with each other.

  Finally, when the speeches were over, the main courses were served, and the dancing began, Jaron and I were reunited. We went outside in the garden, where we continued our conversation, about work, our failed relationships, and where we were now. We were both single, somewhat still reeling over our broken lives. The wine still flowed, and we became more and more open with each other.

  “Geez, I was a right prick to you, wasn’t I?” he asked.

  I sipped my wine. “You were at times,” I said. “But as much as I tried, I could never hate you. And that...”

  “…was the most frustrating part?” he finished for me.

  I gave him a shove. “You took the words out of my mouth.”

  “No wonder you walked out,” he said, laughing. “I deserved a punch in the nose!”

  We found ourselves alone on a bench in the garden. It was a full moon, and the brightness reflected through the trees illuminating our best features in the dark. Jaron looked very handsome in his black tuxedo. He eyed my pearls, the same ones I had worn that day in the bar, the day something in the wind had changed between us.

  “My, those pearls make you look so beautiful,” he said softly, gazing at me. “Especially in the moonlight...”

  “Do you remember that day I first wore them?” I asked him quietly.

  “How could I forget,” he replied, breaking his gaze, sipping his wine.

  I eyed him in the dark, and he finally returned my gaze. He lowered his wine onto the seat. My attraction to him was now at a peak; I was on fire between my legs. I reached my hand out and touched his shoulder.

  “Jaron...” I said softly.

  And then his mouth was on mine. He kissed me like no other, and everything I had ever felt for this man came bubbling to the surface—rage, adoration, frustration, adulation, detestation, loss, and above all, lust. My arms wrapped around his neck as he embraced me around the waist. I raised my leg over his lap, and he lowered his hand to the outside of my thigh, running it up toward my ass, pushing my dress up higher. He pulled me up onto his lap. I could feel the hardness in his pants, pushing against me. He released my mouth from his kiss and buried his face into my neck, inside my hair. I lay my head on his muscular shoulder.

  “Oh my God, Danni,” he breathed. “You have no idea how much I have missed you.”

  He kissed my neck, and I felt the swelling in his pants getting larger, harder. He slipped my dress straps down my arms, until my breasts slipped out. He ran his hands over my breasts, thumbing my nipples until they hardened.

  “Wow, your tits are amazing,” he whispered. “I always wondered what they looked like.”

  I pretended to slap his face. “Sleaze,” I teased.

  I leaned into him and kissed him again, the swell of heat in my own pants becoming a raging fire. I wanted him inside me so badly it was starting to hurt between my legs. Without talking, I pulled my straps up, got up from his lap and took his hand, we had to find a place where we could consummate our feelings.

  But Jaron did something so unexpected, and so outrageous, for lack of a better word, that I still shake my head in bewilderment to this day.

  Still with my hand in his, he got on his knees.

  “Danni Moran, will you marry me?”

  “What?” I exclaimed.

  He stood up, and took me by the waist.

  “Danni, you’ve seen me at my best and my worst,” he said softly. “You know me better than anyone.” He took my face in his hands. “I love you, Danni Moran.”

  He kissed me again as I was still staring at him. When our lips broke away I was in a daze. When I came to my senses, if you can call it that, I realised, yes, I would marry this man, because I loved him, too. More now than I had ever realised. But I couldn’t answer him, instead I planted my mouth back on his. He held me tight as we kissed again.

  “Is that a yes?” he asked, when I finally released his lips.

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “How about right now?”

  “What?” I exclaimed again.

  “You know me, I’m an impatient bastard. I can’t stand long waits. We’re in this beautiful setting, we have a wedding celebrant right here, we’re in wedding clothes, why not now?”

  “I’m wearing black. And we haven’t even had sex yet!” I said, in a daze again.

  “What’s wrong with black? And how many people have sex the first time on their actual wedding night?” he asked. “Let’s be different. If you don’t mind getting a ring later...”

  I hadn’t even thought about a ring. Man, Jaron was still something else, and still full of surprises. I finally laughed. Nothing could be better with this man, or worse. I’d seen everything with him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and gazed up at him.

  “Okay, Jaron McLachlan, I will become your wife, right here, right now.”

  He kissed me again. Then took my hand and led me inside, we had to find the wedding celebrant, who was a friend of the couple and a guest at the wedding reception. Though Jaron first reserved a room upstairs for the night and got the key.

  Jaron finally found the celebrant sitting in the corner with the bride’s grandparents, rather drunk. I saw her give him a very strange look once she heard his request. But she got up and walked with him over to where I stood at the door.

  “I have some papers in the car,” she said, slightly slurring, still looking at us like we were mad. “Meet me in the garden.”

  Jaron grabbed one of the waiters to act as a witness. He, too, looked at us like we were mad.

  In the garden we stood, Jaron and I holding hands as the drunk celebrant conducted our tiny ceremony and the waiter looked at us like we were a couple of lunatics.

  “Do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?” she asked Jaron.

  Jaron took both my hands and looked me deep in the eyes. “I do,” he said.

  “Do you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?” she asked me. “I do,” I whispered.

  “You may kiss your bride.”

  Jaron leaned toward me and our lips met. I felt as though I were falling off a cliff. I realised I had never been in love with Mark, not like this. As strange as my relationship with Jaron was, this was always the way it was going to go. I realised I had always known, right from the day we had met.

  I heard the celebrant clear her throat, and we finally parted. We quickly signed the papers, and the celebrant and waiter disappeared back inside.

  Jaron held me again. I suddenly didn’t feel the need to rush upstairs and ravage him. I just wanted to stand here forever, in his arms, but as more and more people filed out of the wedding, the crowd thinning out, Jaron whispered, “Shall we go upstairs, wife?”

  “Yes, husband,” I answered.

  Jaron led me upstairs. Our room wasn’t the honeymoon suite, but it was just as impressive. A huge canopied bed sat at the back of the room, inviting us in. The room was illuminated by the brightness of the full moon outside. I looked at Jaron, and the lust I had felt for him earlier returned with a vengeance. I was all over him; he was all over me. Our mouths and hands were everywhere as our clothes ripped off and dropped on the floor. And I finally saw his cock. It was huge as it pointed up at me, but before I could touch it, he had dropped to his knees in front of me, clasping my ass with both hands.

  He looked up into my eyes as he kissed down my stomach. My breath quickened, knowing where he was going. I gasped as his mouth reached the sensitive raging hot skin between my legs that was now soaking wet. I gripped my hands in his hair as he teased me with his mouth and tongue. His tongue moving around my folds and flicking over my clit sent shocks of pleasure al
l over me. I moaned as he sucked on my clit.

  But the bed beckoned me. “Baby,” I gasped. When he looked up at me,“The, the bed…” was all I could get out.

  He stood up, and swept me off the floor and into his arms. He kissed me again as he carried me to the bed, laying me out on the mattress before lying beside me. I could finally touch his cock. I took it in my hand and stroked him up and down. He let out soft moans at my touch as he stroked my breasts. I then moved over and straddled him over his knees, and lowered my head over his cock.

  He held my gaze as I wrapped my lips around his head and took him deep inside my mouth. He rolled his head back as my lips came back up his shaft, his fingers running through my hair. “You are so amazing,” he whispered.

  I sucked him a bit longer, but I wanted to do what we were ultimately here to do. I released his cock. “Shall we get in bed?” I asked quietly.

  “Yes,” he smiled.

  We got under the covers. The bedding was extremely luxurious, with one-thousand-thread sheets and the most deluxe duvet I had ever touched. We faced each other in bed on our sides. Jaron, my husband, stroked my face. I realised I was still wearing my pearl necklace. He kissed my lips, lowering his mouth to my neck and kissing around my necklace.

  “I could never get the image of you wearing that pearl necklace out of my mind,” he said softly, kissing me again. “You were absolutely breathtaking. You still are.”

  We held each other in bed, until I rested on my back, raising my left knee and parting my legs, beckoning him. He met me on top, getting between them. I wrapped my legs around his waist under the covers, and I could finally feel him at my entrance. I gasped as he entered me; it had been so long since I’d had a man inside me, but Jaron was extremely gentle. He didn’t start thrusting immediately. Instead we made out as he let himself simply be inside me, but before long our kisses became hungrier; I wanted, needed, this man to fuck the life back into me. I ran my fingers up and down his back, digging my manicured nails hard into his shoulders. “Jaron....” I whimpered into his ear.