by C. C. Piper
Nice head’s up, Andy. Thanks so much.
“Mason?”
And she was already here. Wasn’t that just dandy?
“Alaina. Come on in.”
“Hey.” Those bow-shaped lips of hers rose up into a soft smile as she entered my office and set a notebook on my desk. It’d been only a couple of weeks since I’d seen her, but as soon as those hazel eyes locked onto mine, I realized avoiding her had been the right way to go. Because being in her presence made it far more difficult to stay away from her.
Thankfully, being ensconced in my workplace made it easier to slide into my attorney mindset. I could provide her with legal counsel and keep any other wayward thoughts and feelings out of it.
“So, you wanted some assistance getting your startup ready?”
“Yes,” she said, taking a seat and twisting her infinity ring around and around. “Andy said these sorts of contracts were more in your wheelhouse than his.”
“That’s true,” I said. I could do my job because I was excellent at my job. And the fact that Alaina was going to be in the same room as me, breathing the same air shouldn’t matter. I took her notebook and flipped through it. Then, I pulled some forms from my file cabinet. “Let me explain the standard protections we advise all small businesses to utilize.”
I went on to illustrate the ins and outs of what documents she should have and then suggested a few others that would provide an extra layer of security against liability. One by one, each member of the firm stopped by to let me know they were leaving. It appeared I was the only person who wouldn’t be leaving early.
Par for the course.
After several minutes of listening to my legalese, Alaina halted the proceedings by laying her hand on my forearm. Tingles shot out from my skin at the contact, despite the fabric of my dress shirt offering a buffer.
“Daddy mentioned to me that I should protect myself as a business owner, but despite being around lawyers all the time, I didn’t realize how…intricate and complex this would be,” she confessed.
“Basically, all this is about keeping you from getting sued,” I explained, fixated on the fact that her hand was still on my arm. I had to pause for a second to collect my thoughts into something that made sense. “As an entrepreneur, you’ll have points of contact with other people, and any one of those people might try to take you to court. Having these documents in place will make that process simpler if it happens.”
She released an incredulous snicker. “Why would someone sue me? I’ll be making designer handbags, not doing brain surgery.”
“You’d be surprised,” I told her. I saw that side of humanity far more frequently than she could probably imagine. “Once your business takes off, some less-than-scrupulous people might target you for one of their scams. Maybe they’ll claim your handbag was poorly made and the strap broke, causing them to lose their wallet down a sewer grate. I wouldn’t put anything past anybody.”
“That’s like, really jaded and cynical there, counselor,” she quipped, furrowing her delicately-shaped brows, and I did a quick rewind of what I’d said. I’d never thought of myself as a cynical man and being described as jaded was even worse.
I’d been raised to have faith in others. To believe the best about people and give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Had I lost that somewhere along the way?
I thought about all the cases I’d handled before deciding to specialize in commercial law. While the majority of my clients had a vested interest in making money, I’d say only a small percentage of them were likely to do so through less-than-ethical means. I’d once had a handful of clients who pressed me to find a way around every roadblock to increasing their profits, even when those roadblocks involved morally ambiguous or questionable practices.
I’d hated working with those people, the ones who wanted to deforest lands where endangered species lived or who were anxious to frack for natural gas despite the evidence that fracking contributed to everything from unstable foundations to sinkholes and even earthquakes. I’d never enjoyed working for clients who were willing to sell their souls to the devil for the sake of a few bucks.
Yet, early on in my career, I’d done it.
It had been about looking good in the eyes of the senior partners, to impress Bryant Williams and Henry Chung. As I looked at Bryant’s daughter now though, I wondered where I might’ve crossed some ethical lines. Yes, I’d always advised my clients to do the right thing, but when the chips were down, I’d gone along with their decisions even when I didn’t agree with them. And the recognition of that made me want to squirm.
But I don’t do that anymore, a voice whispered at the back of my psyche. And I won’t ever do it again. That was true. Yet, representing those people had made me notice the darker side of humanity. Maybe Alaina’s assertion was accurate. Maybe it had made me more jaded and cynical than I’d realized.
“Hey,” she said, squeezing my arm with her hand and breaking into my episode of self-flagellation. “I’m kidding, okay? I’m just joking around with you.”
“Yeah, I know,” I evaded her gaze. “And I do think the average person has good intentions. Hopefully, you’ll never need these forms. It’s like insurance. Having them is a sensible precaution.”
“I’ve spent my whole life being sensible,” she said next on a sigh. “Sensible and cautious. I’m tired of it, if you want to know the truth. I’m tired of being boring.”
I started to interject that she was the least boring woman I knew when she brought her free hand up to my chin. Her fingers wove into the scruff of my beard there, fanning out toward my cheeks as she drew one thumb along my lower lip.
The caress of her soft skin touching mine made the tingles I’d been feeling crescendo across my lips and face as if she’d set them on fire. I went totally motionless. I knew if I moved, I’d touch her back, and I’d sworn to myself that I wouldn’t do that anymore. I’d declared Alaina Williams off-limits, out of bounds, and verboten.
But damn, the pad of her thumb against my lips made me want to pant like a Labrador Retriever.
“There are so many things I haven’t done, you know?” she continued, and I tuned in to her words in an attempt to stop noticing her touch. She dropped her thumb and I was immediately grateful. And filled with remorse. At least her other hand remained on my arm. It was as if it was glued in place.
“You’ve lived overseas,” I contradicted her, my voice less than steady. As an attorney, arguing my case was my default setting.
“Yes, but that didn’t turn into the rollicking adventure I hoped for. I saw some cool sights, but I didn’t do much. I visited a few places there in London, but I never went out to lean against the boulders of Stonehenge. I didn’t travel to Ireland and kiss the Blarney Stone. I saw the London Eye nearly every day, but I never rode the silly thing. I’ve always lived my life within the confines of the metaphorical box. And now I want to try living outside it.”
“Like ticking off items on your bucket list?”
“Yes, exactly. It’s sad that I could best everyone I know if ever challenged to a game of Never Have I Ever.” Then, she astounded me by standing up and sitting her shapely ass on the stack of documents I’d prepared for her to sign. “Never have I ever made out on top of a desk.” She brought her face to within an inch of mine, and the floral fragrance of her wafted over me like a wave. “Have you?”
“Uh…” was my eloquent response.
Through the fog in my brain, I glanced over to my large windows. I’d pulled the blinds shut this morning because the sun had been casting a glare on my computer, and I’d neglected to open them again. It occurred to me that not only could no one see in, the cleaning crew that usually came in had been given the day off for the holiday. This meant no one was in the building, nor would they be for thirty-six hours. I tugged at my collar.
Is it hot in here?
“Have you ever made out on top of a desk?” she repeated, her voice husky.
I tried to think, bu
t it was like my thought process was an engine that refused to turn over. “Yes, I have.”
Carrie Anne Richards and I had done more than make out on our algebra teacher’s desk in high school one day when we were supposed to be collaborating on a project. That hadn’t been the classroom we were supposed to be in, but the teachers weren’t as solicitous after hours.
“Never have I ever been to London,” I offered as my own contribution. It wasn’t the best entry, and she called me on it.
“Isn’t there some rule about your information being new to all the other players?” She smirked at me, and I was so close to her I could make out every individual eyelash. It was difficult, but I leaned back from her.
“Never have I ever ridden a mechanical bull.”
Her smirk relaxed into a grin. “That’s more like it. I’ve never done that, either. Never have I ever mooned someone.”
There was an image I wouldn’t soon forget. “I’ve totally done that. Never have I ever been water skiing.”
Her features lifted in surprise. “Even though you’ve spent years of your life here in Seattle? I couldn’t have called that one. I’ve done that a few times. Never have I ever been naked in public.”
“Does it count as being in public if it was in the dark?”
“I’m going to say yes.”
“Then, yes, I’ve done that, too. Never have I ever had to stay overnight in a hospital.”
“What about when you broke your arm that time?” she called foul on the time I’d fallen out of the huge oak tree in my backyard. She must’ve heard the story from Andy because she’d only been a toddler at the time.
“Nope. They did x-rays and put me in a cast, but I went home before dark.”
“Which arm was it?” she asked.
“My right.”
Alaina took the opportunity to trace up and down my biceps. “Where?”
Instead of telling her, I dragged her hand to my forearm. There was no visible indication of my past injury since it’d happened decades ago and hadn’t broken the skin. She shifted then, rearranging herself until she sat on my side of the desk facing me. She’d worn a flowy skirt that hit her mid-thigh but even though it exposed her somewhat, she still brought her bare legs up and around the arms of my office chair, rolling me towards her.
I closed my eyes. “Alaina…”
She leaned in and spoke into my ear, her blond hair tickling my temple as the warmth of her breath spread across the side of my neck. I tried and failed to stifle a shiver. “There’s one more never have I ever that I want to tell you about,” she said. Then, she dipped her head and nipped at my earlobe before drawing her tongue down my neck. After that, she kissed her way up the column of my throat until she met with the line of stubble under my chin.
A tiny red flag was waving from some distant part of my consciousness, but it was easy to ignore. Especially when Alaina chose that moment to move from my desk to my lap and shove her tongue into my mouth. Any resistance I might’ve been showing her up to that point evaporated, and I looped my arms around her, pulling her in. I met her tongue with my own, sucking on it and taking in the peppermint taste of her.
As soon as she’d begun her Never Have I Ever game with me, blood had drifted southward giving me a semi. But now, more blood flowed downwards at Mach one, making my erection as hard as a piece of rebar. She grinded her center against it – against me – and this time we moaned in unison.
We were getting good at going stereo.
She pumped her hips against mine, essentially humping me through our clothes, but it felt so amazing I didn’t stop. Another scent rose up to me, then, the earthy aroma of feminine desire, and when I glanced down to where she was straddling me, I saw a spot of wetness on my pants I knew hadn’t originated from me. Curious, I lowered one of my hands from her waist to underneath her skirt and found no evidence of anything there.
There were no panties, not even a thong, and when I brought my palm between her legs, I discovered her hot, moist center.
Good God.
Had my nervous system been online at all, I might’ve shut this ride down, but all that gray matter inside my skull had checked out big time. The only aspects of me that remained behind the steering wheel were my hormones, my horny body, and the primal instincts that drove me towards pleasure. I registered nothing but her tongue in my mouth, the feel of her in my arms, and the slick creamy sensation of my finger entering her core.
“Oh…” she cried out as she bounced on top of me, her moans transforming into more of a hum. “Uuung…”
Suddenly, it became vital for me to make her come.
I repositioned my hand so that I could plunge two fingers inside of her while torturing her folds with my thumb. I stroked along that most sensitive of skin until my entire hand was drenched with her. Until the pants and boxer briefs binding my stiff erection were drenched with her, too. And I loved it. I loved being drenched by Alaina’s blatant desire.
“More…” she ordered with a gasp. “More, please. More, more, more…”
“Yeah, gorgeous,” I answered her. “You ready to come?”
“Yes, oh Lord, yes.”
The use of such language seemed to escalate our activities to greater heights, and her hands threaded themselves into my hair, her fingers grasping at the strands and tugging on them to the point of pain. Instead of distracting me, this turned me on so much that I started to moan almost as loudly as she was. I adjusted my thumb so that it circled that raised bundle of nerves above her folds, and her hums became a continuous keen.
Then, having her on my lap wasn’t enough. Removing my hand from inside her, I pushed her off my lap and back onto my desk, not caring when the papers I’d printed for her scattered everywhere.
“Mason?” she squeaked, her features going from euphoric to horrified. But I wasn’t stopping this. Not now. I couldn’t.
Instead, I slid two fingers inside of her again, feeling for that slightly rough-feeling patch of skin further in. Once I found it, I curved those fingers until they rubbed against that spot over and over. Her moans and humming returned, and when I pushed her skirt out of my way, she was so far gone that I wasn’t even sure she noticed. She was now exposed to my view, and for a boundless second, I stared down at her glistening pink center, enraptured.
But looking at her, even like this, wasn’t enough. Touching her wasn’t enough, either. I wanted more and more was what I took. Lowering my head, I brought my mouth down to her core. And God, that core. My lips registered her heat while my tongue absorbed the earthy taste of her, the delectable flavor of salted caramel. She was both beautiful and delicious.
All I could see was Alaina. She’d become the crux of my universe, the only thing that mattered. I could smell her, taste her, hear her, and feel her all around me, and she was everything. All I wanted, craved, and yearned for.
I never wanted this to end, but I knew she was close.
She was saying the word “please” like a chant, like an incantation, and even though hearing her beg was the hottest thing ever, I needed to watch her come. So, while bending those fingers within her, I took one long lick then settled in to focus on that raised nub. I sucked on it once, twice, three times, and then she clenched down on my fingers with force.
“Mason… Oh, Lord, Mason, yes,” she screamed out, her upper body curving around my head.
Her climax was like a detonation and seemed to go on and on. I rode it out with her, trying to memorize every aspect of her. Wild horses couldn’t have torn me away. And when she relaxed, panting, I held her, my cheek against her chest as I listened to her runaway heartbeat.
After a moment, she calmed, but I kept her in my arms. My dick was harder than I thought it had ever been, but this had been about her, and I was fine with that. Actually, I was more than fine with it. I was ecstatic. Delirious, even.
So, when she sat up, I wasn’t certain what to expect.
Instead of getting up or backing away, she nudged herself off my d
esk and stood before me. Curtaining my face with her hands, she peered down at me as I sat there in my chair, then offered me an incandescent smile. She kissed me, then paused, and I realized she was tasting herself on me. Then, she sank to her knees on my carpet.
“Your turn.”
“Alaina, you don’t have to,” I told her, even though I wanted it so badly I was almost bursting through my pants with need.
In answer, she unfastened my belt and unzipped me. The second my erection was free, I blew out a breath. Every movement and every caress felt like too much. I could barely hold on. “I can’t last,” I admitted. “Not at all.”
“Then don’t,” she said, as her mouth encased the leaking bulbous tip of me.
She licked around the mushroom shape, then drew her tongue from my balls to the tender underside of my opening. When she covered me with her mouth, taking all of me in, I groaned. She hummed around me, and the light vibrations of this drove me insane. And when she gave me a single good, strong suck, I lost it completely.
“Alaina,” I tried to warn her but didn’t give her much time. Fortunately, she seemed okay with that. She swallowed and then swallowed again as I shot down her throat. She coughed right there at the end, and even though I was awash with ecstasy, I was aware enough to be concerned. “You okay?”
“Sorry,” she said, though why in the hell she was apologizing was beyond me. She’d just fucking blown my mind. Enough of my brain synapses were firing that I remembered I had a bottle of water in my drawer. I offered it to her, and she took a few glugs, grinning at me as she handed it back. After taking a swig myself, I gently bumped at her till she sat on my desk again, then took her hands in mine.
“That was…” I had no words. The English language didn’t have a description that seemed apt enough.
“I think so, too.” She squeezed my hands with hers. “Remember how I told you I had one more never to share with you?”
I was so blissed out I just kept smiling at her. I probably looked dopey, but I couldn’t find it in me to give a damn. “Yeah.”
