by Sophia Gray
“Cindy’s smokin’ hot,” Tony said one night. We were taking a late-night swim, the pool lit up with submerged lights. “I want to bang her.”
I snorted. “She’s too hot for you,” I teased. “She wouldn’t even let you touch her.”
Tony smirked at me. “She’d do anything for my brother,” he said wistfully. “I wish I knew how to tell her he’s already got a girlfriend.”
I laughed. I knew that Marco, Tony’s older brother, was just as self-involved and cocky as he was. Marco probably had three girlfriends, all of them as gorgeous as Cindy. But he wouldn’t ever tell a girl to stop paying attention to him. It went against his ethos, like some kind of sacrilege. I admired him and hated him all at once. Even though I’d just turned fifteen, I felt as scrawny as ever. My chest caved in, and I had the thin, freckled arms of a little girl.
“Cindy looks at you sometimes,” Tony said with a sly smirk as we hauled ourselves out of the pool and lay panting on the still-hot concrete. “She’s such a babe. I bet you could get her number.”
Even though I didn’t believe him, my heart started thumping hard at Tony’s words. It was unbelievable that someone like Cindy would want anything to do with me. She wore perfume, she smoked cigarettes—she was so clearly above being involved with a teenager. Marco was twenty, and I understood her attraction to him; he was burly and muscular, with a hot car and a never-ending supply of pot. Tony used to pinch enough off of him just to roll joints for the two of us to share.
“I swear it,” Tony said. He nodded up and down. “I caught her checking you out the other day.”
In my rare moments alone, I fantasized about Cindy until I thought my dick was going to fall off from jacking off so often. I imagined her coming to me and sitting on my lap, pressing those amazing tits against my chest until her stiff nipples rubbed at my bare skin. She was the hottest thing I’d ever seen—my ultimate fantasy girl. I knew that I wouldn’t have been able to talk to her, but I always wished that she’d say something to me just the same.
One day, I got my wish. Tony and Marco were leaving for vacation, and I was hanging around their house like always. Their parents were taking them to Greece to meet their family, and even though I was only Tony’s best friend, I was offended at not being invited to go along. Tony and Marco were trying to make me jealous—telling me that in Greece there was no drinking age.
“We’re gonna get blasted every night!” Tony cried out, making a fist and slamming it down on the counter.
I glared at him. I wasn’t looking forward to two weeks spent in my mom’s shitty apartment with no air conditioning. Compared to home, Tony’s house was a palace.
“Yeah, right.” Marco smirked. “Hey, Enzo, don’t cry,” he added with a nasty grin. “We’ll bring you back something real nice!”
I rolled my eyes and hopped off the counter. Pretending to be too cool for the situation wasn’t a trick that I’d mastered yet, but it was something I was working on. “Whatever, asshole,” I said, slapping Tony in the arm. “Have fun with your fat, hairy cousins.”
I let the front door slam behind me, dragging my toes along the asphalt of their long driveway. Cursing under my breath, I reached down and picked up a rock before throwing it hard across the street.
“Hey!” Cindy’s voice was indignant. She popped up and glared at me. “Watch where you’re throwing that, you creep!”
I gulped hard. She’d been sunning herself on Marco’s car, and she was clad only in a thong bikini and a triangle top that did little to hide her luscious, amazing tits. My mouth went dry as Cindy sat up and rubbed lotion over her already-bronze arms.
“They’re leaving today,” I said matter-of-factly. “They’re not going to take you with them.”
“I don’t care.” Cindy pouted. Her mouth was the perfect shade of bubblegum pink, and I watched as her lower lip stuck out. I wanted to lean over and suck on it until she was moaning. “I don’t give a shit about Marco, anyway. He’s such a selfish asshole.”
I rolled my eyes, suddenly feeling more confident. Even though Cindy wasn’t drooling over me like I was her, I could tell that she was watching the way I walked down the driveway. Her bright green eyes honed in on me like I was a faraway target.
“Hey, why don’t you ever talk to me?” Cindy snapped her gum and rolled over onto her belly. When I saw the way the thong material strained between the rounded cheeks of her perfect ass, I felt my cock spring into a hard erection.
“Because,” I said, shrugging and trying to sound casual like I didn’t even care, “you’re chasing Marco.” I laughed suddenly. “You look so ridiculous waiting around for him here right now.”
Cindy crossed her thin, tan arms over her perfect chest and glared at me. She climbed off the hood of Marco’s car and strutted over like she was on a catwalk. Just watching her move… my cock was going to explode. I wondered what it would be like to touch her skin, to slide my tongue around in her mouth. I’d made out with a few girls, but none of them had been as gorgeous as Cindy. She made me realize how much I actually loved women.
“You don’t have to be such an asshole,” she said, narrowing her perfect eyes. But I sensed something behind them: vulnerability.
“You’re right,” I replied, puffing my chest out and walking over. I tried to make myself seem as tall as she was. “I think I’m jealous, too.” I looked back towards the house. “I hate the idea of going home for two weeks.”
Cindy laughed. It was a nice laugh, a real laugh, not the stupid girlish giggle she tried whenever Marco was around. “You’re sweet, Enzo,” she said finally. I watched as she licked her lips, feeling my cock twitch with the most intense lust I’d ever felt in my short life. “You should call me sometime.”
That evening, she pecked me on the cheek and gave me her phone number. Normally, I would have been too chickenshit to call her. But with Tony out of town, I had nothing to do. Finally, I worked up the courage after three days and asked her out. To my immense surprise, she said yes.
We met at the movies and saw something with a PG-13 rating because I wasn’t old enough to get into an R movie yet. As soon as the theater went dark, Cindy slipped her hand between my legs and began stroking my cock until I was having a hard time not groaning loudly. When she turned towards me in the little seat, I pressed my mouth against hers and kissed. She tasted like warm sugar, like candy that’s been sitting out in the sun. I knew that I was in love. I knew that what we had would last forever.
In her car, after the movie, I fingered her. It was my first time ever doing anything sexual with a girl, and I came in my pants as she moaned against me. Sex was pleasurable and intense, but more work than I’d thought—it wasn’t like I could just put my hands on a girl and thrill her.
Still, it was the best night I’d ever had. I tried to act cool and deserving of her attention, but inside I was jumping for joy. I couldn’t wait to tell Tony about what I’d done, and how Cindy Lawson couldn’t get enough of my cock. Fifteen years old or not, it was a defining, religious experience.
Cindy and I hooked up every day that Marco and Tony were gone. She taught me a lot about women—how to find the clit, how to pinch and rub her nipples until she was soaking wet, how to kiss. I felt like I was getting really good at pleasuring her, and I was feeling more confident than ever before. My skinny chest and arms didn’t matter so much because I had a hot older girlfriend, and I knew how much she wanted me.
The day that Tony and Marco came back, I rode my bike over to Cindy’s. Her car was gone, and no one was home. I remember that gave me a bad feeling in my stomach, but I couldn’t name it at the time. Instead, I rode over to Tony’s, desperate to tell him what had happened. I knew he was going to be so jealous. I didn’t even care about hanging out at his place anymore, I just wanted to brag about my conquest.
What I saw stopped me dead in my tracks. Cindy and Marco were sitting on the hood of his car, kissing so hard their heads looked merged. She was wearing a crocheted bikini top and a deni
m miniskirt, and Marco’s hand was buried inside her panties. Cindy was moaning and rubbing her tits against Marco’s chest. She didn’t even see me as I snuck into the house.
Tony was watching at the window with a pair of binoculars. “This shit’s been going on all morning!”
I shook my head, feeling sick and nauseous inside. “She’s a terrible person,” I said under my breath. “I mean, she was with me the whole time you guys were gone.”
Tony frowned and turned to me. “Dude, I know you’re mad that I didn’t ask you to come, but stop lying about that shit! It’s fucked up!”
“Enzo?” Audrey knocked on my open door. “I’m leaving for the day.” She stepped closer to my desk, bringing a wave of strawberry scent with her. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” She licked her lips and watched me intently, her eyes focusing on my face. I felt an overwhelming wave of lust attack my body. Audrey was no Cindy; she was even better.
“No, thanks,” I said dismissively. I gestured down towards the papers on my desk. “This stuff was great, Audrey. Thanks for your help.” I narrowed my eyes. “You know, Hodges used to use a lot of code that I never bothered to figure out… maybe I should take another look, too.”
Audrey nodded. “That’s the way it seems to me. Based on the context of those emails at least.” She nodded her head slowly. “I mean, he never mentions anything about shoes. Just the store, and only at certain times.”
“Thanks,” I told her again. “Actually, you know what? Wait a second,” I added. “You’re coming with me. There are some things I want to explain to you.”
Audrey blinked. “Now? At the end of the day?”
I nodded. “As my secretary, you have to be privy to this information.” And I am dying to get you alone because I don’t think I can keep myself from touching you here. “It could be useful in the future.”
Chapter Fifteen
Audrey
I waited at my desk as Enzo gathered some things together in a chic, black leather bag. I had no idea what he would need to speak to me about outside of the office. Suddenly, my head was filled with terrible thoughts: Enzo yelling at me and telling me that I wasn’t good enough to work for him anymore. Enzo telling me that I was being too obvious at work. Enzo telling me that he’d found another secretary and that I’d be transferred to another part of LennoxCo.
By the time he’d appeared, I felt like a nervous wreck.
“Ready to go?” Enzo actually smiled at me—one of the first times ever. I was taken aback by his expression. He looked a bit hectic and manic, but otherwise, there was no change from usual.
I wondered what was going to happen. Deep down, I was dying to know, but shamelessly all I could think about was how it would feel to kiss him again, to let him take me into his arms and hold me.
“Yeah,” I replied. I grabbed my purse and slung it over the shoulder of my pink parka.
I was sweating by the time we reached the massive front doors to LennoxCo—both from nervousness and the sheer heat that was pumped into the front of the building. “Where are we going?”
Enzo didn’t reply. He hailed a cab and opened the back door for me, sliding into the back seat. When the cab took off, he jolted against me. It was the first time that our bodies had touched all day, and a shiver of delight and pleasure went soaring through my body.
“We’re going out to dinner,” Enzo informed me casually. “French food—hope that’s okay.” He leaned forward and gave the driver an address a few blocks away. “There are some things I need to discuss with you.”
I bit my lip. “About work?” My words came out shaky, hesitant.
Enzo nodded. “Of course.” Frowning, he turned to me, and a self-conscious blush broke out over my cheeks. “Why? Did something happen?”
I shook my head and turned away, staring out the window as we passed skyscrapers and elegant people strolling around. I could never understand how some people managed to look glamorous despite the horrible Chicago weather. In the winter, my face always felt chapped and wind burned. In the summer, I could barely stop sweating long enough to keep my hair dry.
Enzo, on the other hand, was a vision in perfectly tailored gray. His chic overcoat was turned up to keep the chill away from his tanned neck, and he was wearing the same scarf I’d seen on him a handful of times. Before I knew it, I was staring at him, fantasizing about the way his lips would feel on my cold neck.
We pulled up in front of a big building, and Enzo passed the driver a twenty. “Keep the change,” he barked out, opening the door and guiding me out onto the icy sidewalk. The wind was whipping fiercely around us, and I shivered as Enzo took my elbow and led me inside.
The inside of the building was done in muted gray, cream, and a dull gold. I watched in awe as Enzo led me into a vaulted lobby with a domed ceiling. La Maison Françoise was printed in a squirmy font over the top of a door.
“This is my favorite restaurant,” Enzo said. “I’ve done some of my best thinking here.” He took my elbow and led me inside. “I hope you like French food.”
I’d never had French food before, and somehow, deep down, I knew that Enzo was aware of that. “I’m sure it’ll be nice,” I replied, wincing at the awkward sound of my Wisconsin accent. “Thanks, Enzo.”
“Mr. Lennox!” A maître d’ bowed and greeted us. “It’s been some time!” His gaze flickered over me, and I saw the faintest hint of disgust on his face. “And who is this?”
“She’s my secretary,” Enzo barked out roughly. “My usual table in the back. Wine list first, please.”
The maître d’ nodded and bowed again. His eyes were focused on Enzo’s chillingly perfect face. If I hadn’t been so worried about what Enzo was going to reveal to me, I might have found the situation funny—the man was obviously trying to snub me. But Enzo was absolutely perfect. I had a hard time believing that he’d ever been with a woman as gorgeous as he.
“Back here,” Enzo said in a low voice. He put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me forward.
I felt an electric spark jump between our bodies as we entered the mostly dark room. The restaurant was elegant but seemed out of touch. It wasn’t like the places that Enzo favored with lots of natural lighting and glass and chrome. Instead, it looked like something from an old gangster movie.
The tables were dark wood—shiny but stained from decades' worth of service. The walls were painted a dusty gold and covered with dark red velvet curtains. There were a few windows, but the overall effect of the place was a very dim one; it was private, almost like something from a mob movie.
“This is nice,” I said as I glanced around. “But I’m a little surprised. It doesn’t… well, it doesn’t exactly seem like you.” I blushed as soon as the words were out of my mouth. It seemed startlingly intimate to comment on something as personal as Enzo’s favorite restaurant.
Enzo chuckled. “There are a lot of things about me that you don’t know, Audrey,” he said in a low, silky voice. “Trust me on that one.”
I shivered. Even with my parka on, I could tell that the interior of the room was chilly. Enzo watched me intently as I slipped out of my jacket. Instantly, a waiter was at my side. I felt startled—I hadn’t even seen him walk up to us. Had he been waiting?
“I’ll take that for you, ma’am,” he said smoothly, pawing my jacket and bag away from me before I could resist.
I felt naked without my parka. The restaurant was so sexy, so intimate, that I had the same feeling as I’d had last night in bed—that Enzo and I were the only two people in the world.
“So,” Enzo said. He picked up a leatherette folder and glanced down. “I take it you’re fine with a Malbec?”
I swallowed. “Um, yeah,” I replied. I didn’t want to tell him that I’d never had nice wine before. I’d had a couple of glasses at events hosted by the college, but that had been years ago. Now, I wasn’t really much of a drinker. Something about being drunk had never appealed to me—I never wanted to lose control of my facul
ties in public. Besides, being with Enzo was thrilling enough. But a little spark of excitement went through me when I realized that it would be like a scene from a movie: I’d be drinking wine with a sexy guy, alone in the chicest restaurant I’d ever seen.
“It goes well with the food,” Enzo said smoothly. He folded the menus together and held onto them. I felt perplexed; I hadn’t even gotten a chance to look at the offerings yet.
When the waiter appeared, Enzo ordered the same meal for each of us: herb-crusted rack of lamb with a small Caesar salad to start, plus a bottle of wine. I gulped as the waiter carried the menus away with a swift grace.