Right, it's finally time for a hot bath and a midnight snack.
But as I turned to leave, I heard the click of Matthew's door, and a second later, he appeared at the end of the hall.
"Becca? I thought you left hours ago."
"I forgot my wallet," I said, holding it up. “I was just leaving."
There was a wry smile on his face, as though he was enjoying what he was seeing.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing."
"You looked like you were going to laugh at me."
"No, not at all. It's just it's the first time I've seen you not all prim and proper."
"You mean I look a mess."
"I mean you look like you've just finished partying hard. In a good way."
We stared at each another. There was the overwhelming knowledge that it was just the two of us in the office. An energy grew between us, a sense that we were being drawn closer.
"Anyway, what are you doing here?" I asked, trying to take his attention away from me. "You can't still be working."
"Yeah I am."
"Why? "
He looked down at his shoes for a second and said, "I like working. It takes my mind off things."
"Like Olivia?"
Shit, why did you just say that? That's the White Russians talking.
His head had jerked up, a frown marring his handsome face. "Yeah, like Olivia."
"I saw her earlier. Or rather, I heard her. The mad banshee."
He threw back his head and laughed. "That's one way of describing her. But I'm sorry you had to hear that. She made quite a scene."
I felt the jealousy from earlier rise in me once again, but it was stronger, more intense. I knew I should let the subject drop, but fortified by drink, I shamelessly pried.
"What did she want?"
"Ah, you don't really wanna hear about her."
"I do."
"Really?"
"Sure." I shrugged.
He looked up at the clock, then back toward his office. "Why don’t we go and grab a coffee? I've not had much of a chance to catch up with you properly since you started here. We've been working like crazy."
"A coffee?"
Say yes. A coffee is exactly what you need. And getting Matthew on his own is exactly what you want!
"A coffee sounds wonderful," I said. "Just let me freshen up first."
Matthew
A guy with a public profile like mine wasn't often able to keep secret hangout spots, but I did. The Screaming Beanz Coffee Emporium was an absolute hidden gem in the heart of the city up an alleyway. From the outside, it looked like a garage, but once you entered, you were confronted with a labyrinth of cozy, leather booths and gold tins stacked to the ceiling with every type of coffee imaginable.
It was also a five-minute walk from the office and open until four am, meaning I often visited the little café to do my thinking when I wanted a little sober time to myself.
Never had I wanted to bring anyone here before, until now.
"I'll have a double espresso, please," Becca said to the waiter, a guy that looked as though he hadn't slept in three weeks. "With the Arabica beans."
"Very nice," he said, scribbling her order down. "And you, Mr. Banks?"
"Turkish, please."
"Of course. Back in a jiffy." He didn't so much as walk away but rather vibrated into the distance until he disappeared behind the counter.
"This place is great," Becca said as she looked around the room. "It looks like a museum."
"It's a pretty sweet place. And there's hardly anybody here at this time of night apart from hard core insomniacs and people cramming for exams."
I looked over at the table across from us and saw four college kids hunched over their laptops typing like their lives depended on it.
"I remember those days," she mused. "Thank God college is over."
"You didn't enjoy college?"
"I loved it, but I felt as though I was being squashed into a mold. I had to follow each professors’ syllabus, but none of it really related to the real world, you know. I would have much rather have gained experience on the job rather than in a classroom. I felt like I spent far too long speed-reading textbooks rather than actually doing any real training."
She was fiddling with her hair as though she was self-conscious. Sure, she wasn't as made up as she was first thing that morning, and her hair was a little tousled, but she was more beautiful in this carefree look.
Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and her nose was pink, giving the impression she had just descended from some ski slope and arrived for a much-needed hot beverage.
Between us, a tea light flickered, its glow bouncing off her flawless skin and high cheekbones. Her heart-shaped lips were moist, her eyes dancing in the firelight.
"That's one Turkish and one Arabica," the waiter recounted as he returned with a golden tray. There was much ceremony performed with him setting down tiny cups along with miniature biscuits, little silver spoons, and sugar cubes shaped like crystals. "Enjoy," he said and vibrated away.
Becca took her small espresso cup between her dainty fingers and sniffed. "Fuck, this is strong."
"Too strong?"
"Nope!" And after taking a deep breath, she knocked the whole thing back in one go. "Brrrr!" She shook herself and blinked a few times. "My God I needed that."
"You'll be flitting about like a hummingbird," I laughed.
She looked over her shoulder and caught the waiter's attention. "Another one, please," she called, and he gasped.
"I'm so pleased to meet someone who's a hardcore coffee lover too," I laughed. "And there's not a single shot of pumpkin spice syrup in sight."
"Hey, don't you go insulting my favorite pumpkin spice lattes. They're the fucking bomb diggity."
I laughed again, happy to be in her company. Everything about her was happy and positive, and as I sat across from her, I felt as though I was being imbued with her positive vibes. It was pretty much the complete opposite of being with Olivia.
Oliva may have been beautiful, but when she entered the room it was as though she sucked the light out of it like she was dissolving away happiness.
Becca must have sensed me thinking about her, became she rested her hands on the table and said, "So...Olivia."
"There's really not much to tell. And I'm sure your old man told you everything there is to know."
"He told me she had an affair with her accountant and that he looks like a mole. He told me that she was a real bitch and made you miserable. That he always wondered why you married her."
"Really? He said all that?"
"He did. Said he could tell she was bad news from the start."
"For real? He never mentioned a thing to me."
She shrugged. "He was trying to be a nice, supportive friend, I guess." Her second coffee arrived, which, to my relief, she sipped on slowly, savoring each mouthful. “I hope you don't think he was talking shit behind your back,” she continued. “He was just concerned about you.”
“I appreciate that.”
But I wondered if all my other friends had thought the same thing but said nothing. Would things have worked out differently if they'd voiced their concerns at the start? Or would I have ignored them?
“Enough about Olivia,” I said, sipping on my own coffee. I winced at its strength and set it back down. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
She had to. She was the kind of girl who must have endless admirers, many a lot younger than me. She could have her pick of any guy.
"No," she replied, running her finger around the lip of her cup. "No boyfriend."
"Really?"
"Uh uh."
"Because..."
"There's no reason. I just don't want one?"
"What about a girlfriend?"
"No girlfriend either,” she laughed. "I'm very much free and single. And straight," she added, staring in my eyes.
Th
e tension in my muscles subside at hearing this. "Enjoy your life while you're young," I advised. "You don't want to get chained down to one person and find yourself married before you get to experience the things you want."
She was staring at me strangely, but I couldn't figure out what she was thinking. Regardless, I loved the glint in her eyes. There was a hint of mischief, a sense that she was playing with me.
"You know I've never had a boyfriend," she confessed. "Ever."
"You're seriously telling me you've never had a boyfriend," I chuckled. "That's impossible."
"Why? A girl can be happy on her own, you know."
"I don't doubt that for a second, but surely at some point in time there's been some guy that's crossed your path you liked."
"Just one," she confided quietly, glancing away.
"He must be special," I said. "If he's the only one to catch your attention."
"Yeah, he is really special."
"You still hung up on him?"
"More than ever." Her gaze returned to meet mine and the flirtatious glint intensified.
Wait, she's not talking about me, is she? No. She can't be.
"Have you told him how you feel?" I asked, my mouth feeling dry.
"No. Until recently I could never have told him."
"Why?"
"He was a married man."
Below the table, our knees bumped together, but she made no attempt to move her leg from mine. I felt the heat of her skin against mine and the urge to slip a hand beneath the table and run it up her thigh.
"Anyone I know?" I asked, but from the look on her face, I knew exactly who it was.
"I don't need to spell it out, do I?" Nervously, she fiddled with a napkin on the table and looked at her hands. When I didn’t say anything, she sighed with exasperation. "Matthew, it's always been you," she said. "I've never wanted anyone else."
I sat across from her, stunned for a second. Although I had thought she might be talking about me, there was still some part of me that couldn't believe it.
"You're playing with me," I scoffed. "You have to be."
With her fingers still tearing at the napkin, she looked up and said, "Cross my heart." Her face was a mixture of excited, mortified, and regretful, a simmering pot of multiple feelings. "I've known you were the one since I was a kid," she said. "Since I was old enough to know what a real man was."
I shook my head, disbelief and hope warring in my head. "Don't say that."
"I mean it," she replied with a hint of defiance in her face. "There's only ever been one guy I've been attracted to, and that's you."
My stomach flipped. From somewhere deep inside me, butterflies began racing. An unexpected excitement coursed through me as an unstoppable smile spread across my face.
"You never let on," I murmured, leaning across the table. "You never said a thing."
"How could I?” she asked excitedly. “You're my dad's best friend. You were married. I was just a kid. To me you were nothing but a fantasy, but I could still never get close to another guy when all I thought about was you."
Her cheeks had turned scarlet, and I reached over the table to touch her face. "Becca... "
I reached even further forward and wrapped my fingers around her jaw. She trembled slightly in my hand as she caught her breath.
Do it, I told myself. You've wanted to kiss her since she walked into your office last week.
As I held her, she closed her eyes, and I moved in. I pressed my lips to hers softly, barely believing what I was doing.
I shouldn't be doing this. This is totally forbidden. Bob will kill me if he finds out.
But I couldn't stop the rush of pleasure that flowed through me. The feeling that I was on the cusp of tasting Heaven.
Her kisses were like silk, the slight moan coming from her lips like music. It felt as though our lips had always meant to meet, as though they were destined to lock together.
Instantly, I was flooded with an intense desire that rushed to my groin, and a raging erection pressed up against the inside of my pants.
She pulled away, shock on her features, lust in her eyes. "I've been waiting so long to do that," she gasped.
I watched her for a second, thinking she was the most beautiful woman in the room. The most beautiful woman in any room. I wanted more of her, wanted to explore all the parts of her that were off limits to me but so, so appealing.
"We shouldn't have done that,” I breathed. “We can't..."
"But it feels right, doesn't it?"
"Fuck, it feels perfect."
Her hand moved beneath the table and squeezed my knee. My erection hardened even more, and I fought the overwhelming compulsion to leap across the table and grab her.
There was the strongest feeling between us that it was all wrong, that we should remove our hands and pretend the kiss never happened. But at the same time, the more we tried to resist each other, the more we were pulled closer.
She leaned over and tangled her fingers in mine to pull me closer. This time she kissed me, and her lips met mine hungrily, her tongue pushing against mine.
"I don't care how forbidden it is," she murmured between kisses. "I've been waiting too long for this."
Feeling the urgency of her kisses, I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her hard. "Let's get out of here," I said, breathlessly, feeling her hands slide up my thighs.
Fuck, I thought. I'm gonna explode.
Becca
Oh, my God is this really happening? It's what I've wanted for so long and now my dream is coming true. We tumbled through the door to my apartment, unable to keep our hands off each other, kissing so hard it almost hurt. We pushed and pulled at each other's bodies until we collapsed on the living room couch.
I breathed in his scent as I kissed him sensuously, smelled the divine richness of his masculine scent and felt his strong hands on my body. His fingers hooked themselves into my clothes, threatening to rip them to rags.
Between my legs I could feel his hardness press into me, my own flood of liquid passion burning through my panties.
This is wrong, I thought as I opened my legs for him, but I want it more than anything.
"Oh, fuck you're so beautiful," he breathed, sitting up for a second to look at my body. He rested his hand on my stomach for a second and felt the rise and fall of my breath. Then he slid his hand in between my breasts, his fingertips reaching for the buttons of my blouse.
He paused for a second, as though he knew he should restrain his urges, but he couldn't. For a second, he panted, licking his already wet lips as his cock bulged through the front of his pants.
I lifted a hand to his crotch and felt the length of it through his clothes. Inside, I was filled with both fear and desire. What would I do when I first saw it? How was I supposed to touch it? But at the same time, I knew I wanted to take it, wanted to pleasure it and feel it pleasure me.
He groaned as I squeezed it through his pants, and he closed his eyes for a second.
Gradually, he began popping open the buttons of my blouse, one by one, showing inch by inch of flesh until I lay in front of him with my bra exposed. It was the furthest I had ever been with anyone, and I was filled with a sense of pride that I had waited so long. That only Matthew had seen me like this.
My nipples stiffened and were ready to be touched. Slowly, he leaned down and pulled the cups of my lacy bra down to reveal my pale breasts.
"Oh, God," he whispered, his hot breath tingling my nipples.
He caressed them gently at first, then he lowered his mouth and sucked on my nipples, his tongue running circles around each of them in turn. His grip on my breasts hardened as his fingers began to dig into my flesh.
Moving his mouth lower, he kissed the space between my breasts, my ribs, my stomach, the sensitive curve of my hip bone before trailing his tongue even lower.
"Take this off," he ordered, yanking at my skirt.
I did as I was told and unzipped it quickly before tossing it onto the f
loor. In just my panties, I lay before him feeling exposed but horny as hell. Opening my legs even wider, I revealed the wet patch on my panties, and his eyes widened.
"Oh, fuck," he said, resting his hand on my thigh.
I felt as though I was catching fire, as though if he didn't move his hands those crucial few inches closer to the sweet spot between my legs I would explode. He could sense how much I needed him, could see how aroused I was.
Tracing a line down my inner thigh, he brought his fingers closer to me, then a little closer, almost close enough for me to feel the tips of them graze the sides of my panties. He knew the moment he removed those panties there was no turning back. He knew it was the moment I would give myself to him.
With his eyes meeting mine, he slipped two fingers inside the delicate lace and pulled it to the side to reveal my shining lips. His breathing quickened when he saw me ready for him, pink, shaved, and dripping wet.
Something flashed in his eyes like a primal urge letting itself be known. Something that told me he was no longer going to be a gentleman.
"Sit on my face," he ordered. "Sit on my fucking face right now."
He grabbed my ass and lifted me easily, as though I was nothing more than a rag doll. As he lay down, he pulled me on top of him, pulling my pussy down onto his mouth. In an instant, I could feel his hot, wet mouth encapsulate my clit with pure pleasure, and I let out a scream.
It was nothing how I’d touched myself all those times. It was far more intense. It wasn't a fantasy anymore. It was the real fucking thing.
I could feel my body begin to shake as his tongue ground down on my clit. My juices began to flow freely over his mouth, and he lapped them up thirstily, groaning as I rode his tongue.
"Oh, God!" I screamed, tearing at his hair. Euphoria washed over me in waves as my thighs shook violently. "Fuck!"
He sucked even harder, his hands holding my ass in an iron grip.
"Oh, God, Matthew! Matthew I'm... I'm coming!!"
With a surge of violent shudders, I reached a climax that rocked my body from the inside out and evaporated every single thought in my head until I was nothing but pure pleasure and white heat and ecstasy.
Knocked Up by Daddy’s Best Friend Page 8