Confessions of an Alli Cat

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Confessions of an Alli Cat Page 6

by Courtney Cole


  He stands up and holds out his hand.

  “Allison, it has been a pleasure meeting you. I feel confident that you and I are going to work very well together. We’ll make a great team.”

  I smile back and shake his hand, trying to ignore the electric sensations that ripple through my body as I touch him.

  “It’s a pleasure meeting you, too. I’m excited to see what ideas you have about moving the company forward.”

  He walks me to the door and I make my way back to my office.

  As I walk in, I glance at the lavish furnishings, the leather chairs, the spacious area and the surrounding windows. I’ve worked hard as hell for this corner office. I’m not going to lose focus now over a new boss who just happens to be sexy and has a beautiful freaking smile.

  I’ve got this.

  I’ve so got this.

  I continue feeling proud of myself all afternoon, as I stay in career-superwoman-mode instead of thinking about my new boss or even Shade. I do some sales trajectories, I work on a marketing plan and then I sit down with Taylor and go through my schedule for the following day. I do all of this without letting my mind wander.

  I seriously am freaking Superwoman.

  Not Superwoman enough, though, to cook dinner tonight. I’m too freaking tired for that nonsense. So on the way home, I stop and grab some take-out. Sophie will be happy about that, anyway. It will mean that we won’t need to clean up the kitchen after dinner.

  As I burst through the doors with food in one hand, my briefcase in the other and my bottle of water and mail balanced somewhere in between, I call out a hello.

  No answer.

  Okay. No big deal. I know she’s home because she left the front door standing wide open when she came in from school and her backpack right inside the doorway. She probably just can’t hear me because she’s got her ear-buds in again. I might as well pay to have them surgically implanted in her head. It would make her life a lot easier, I ‘m sure.

  I kick off my heels, sort through the mail and answer one quick e-mail on my phone before I hear laughter coming from the backyard through the French patio doors. And a male voice. My head snaps up. What the hell? Sophie knows the rules. No male friends over when I’m not home. I stomp to the patio, ready to ground her.

  I throw open the doors and storm outside.

  And stop dead in my tracks with my mouth hanging wide open.

  Shade is in the pool with Sophie.

  My daughter is with the gigolo that I had sex with.

  Right now.

  In my pool.

  I am stunned. Appalled. Frozen in place.

  He’s not touching her. He’s next to her in the water, motioning with his arms. He’s obviously wearing swim-trunks. And he’s obviously beautiful. And wet. And next to my freaking daughter.

  Sophie looks up and sees me, waving.

  “Hey, mom!” she calls, smiling.

  Shade turns to greet me and his expression freezes.

  He didn’t know whose daughter he was with. That much is apparent.

  But that doesn’t change the fact that he is still here. With my daughter.

  Did I mention with my daughter??

  Obviously, I do the only thing that any healthy red-blooded female can do.

  I freak out.

  Big time.

  Chapter Seven

  (Or: I’m going to hell in a hand-basket)

  “What the hell is going on?” I demand, practically breaking my neck to get to the water’s edge. I reach in and haul Sophie out of the pool by her swimsuit straps, ignoring the fact that the chlorinated water is ruining my $250 silk blouse.

  Sophie stares at me in shock, as does Shade.

  And I have to admit. My high-pitched screech does sound a bit unbalanced.

  But to be fair, I did just find my gigolo in my pool with my fifteen-year old daughter.

  Have I mentioned that already?

  “Mom,” Sophie hisses. “Stop! You’re embarrassing me!” This is whisper-yelled into my ear, as though Shade won’t hear it when he is only three feet away. I glare down at her.

  “Embarrassing you? You’re in the pool, breaking my rules, with someone much older than you are!”

  And someone who is much younger than me. But that little fact didn’t stop me from screwing his brains out, now did it?

  I ignore my inner voice because it is annoyingly correct.

  Sophie stares at me silently. I raise an eyebrow as I feel my pulse beat in my temple.

  “Well??”

  “Um. Should I say something now?” Shade pipes up from behind Sophie.

  He has emerged from the pool and I fight not to look at him. I’m sure he’s devastatingly sexy in his wet swim-trunks. I don’t need to see that right now. I need to stay pissed. And that’s easy to do with Shade’s next shocking words.

  “Sophie told me that this was all approved by you. Her father has already paid in full, so everything is taken care of.”

  “Paid in full??? Her father paid you in full??”

  I am screeching now, so loudly that my neighbors probably hear me. In fact, from the tone of my voice, they’ve probably inferred that I need 9-1-1 called because this is an emergency. And it is.

  I calm myself just a bit, swallowing hard as I stare into Shade’s deep blue, blue eyes.

  “My ex-husband hired you for my daughter?”

  Shade’s cheek twitches a little and it appears that he fights back a grin. He towels off as he walks closer and I don’t even glance at his practically naked body.

  I really am Superwoman. And I have amazing fucking fortitude.

  “Yes, he did,” Shade confirms. “To be Sophie’s swim coach. My name is Colby, Ms. Lancaster. I hope being here is alright.”

  “Swim coach,” I repeat, feeling numb as realization slowly dawns on me. I had forgotten all about it.

  “Yes, swim coach,” Sophie snaps, her eyes spitting fire. “What is wrong with you? What did you think we were doing anyway?” She is glaring now and in this moment she looks so much like her father.

  “I don’t know,” I say quietly. “It was just a surprise.” I turn to Sophie. “I only just said yes the other day. How did you get it arranged so fast? And how did you talk your father into paying for it?”

  Sophie looks smug. “He felt guilty. So you won’t even have to worry about it. It’s all taken care of.”

  I don’t even bother asking how she managed it. Her father is much more inclined to want to write a check to get his fatherly obligations out of the way, rather than spend time with her. And I’m sure she knows it. And exploits it. Because that is what teenagers do. And in this case, I can’t say I blame her. If anyone deserves to be exploited, it’s Rick the Dick.

  Shade/Colby looks at me and the laughter is gone from his eyes.

  “Is it alright that I’m here?” he asks.

  And I know what he really means.

  Is it alright that my gigolo is here training my fifteen year old daughter in my pool when they are both barely covered in their swimsuits? Um, I don’t know. How long do I have to ponder that? If I were a good mother, would it even be a question? I’d have already kicked him to the curb. Actually, I’d probably not know him in the first place because I wouldn’t have hired him for sexual services. Right?

  Ohmygod. I’m a horrible mother. I slept with a gigolo. And now he’s in my pool. Child Protective Services are going to come and take me away because I have a gigolo in the pool with my underage daughter. I’m going to hell in a handbasket. I’m going to burn forever.

  I’m on the verge of a breakdown.

  And I think that Colby/Shade sees it, because he quickly turns to Sophie.

  “You know what, Sophie? I’d like for you to do some laps for endurance. I want to see you swim twenty laps, then do ten of the drills that I showed you earlier. I should probably sit down with your mom and explain my training plans with her.”

  Sophie looks at me, waiting for my approval. I nod and she turns a
way, diving back into the glistening water. I stare down at her swimsuit clad form, wavering beneath the rippling turquoise water.

  Shade/Colby takes my elbow and leads me into the kitchen. He pushes me gently into a chair in my kitchen and walks straight for my fridge. He pulls out a bottle of wine that I had re-corked last night and pours me a glass. He shoves it into my hands and sits down across from me.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I gulp at my wine, draining it in three gigantic gulps.

  “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I let my friend talk me into seeing you the other night and now I find you in my pool training my daughter. I don’t know if a good mother would let that happen.”

  “Why?” he asks in surprise. “Because of my other job? I can assure you of this: When I’m on Utopia’s clock, I’m Shade. Any other time, including when I’m in the pool with your daughter, I’m Colby. And I’m very good at both of my jobs. I am completely professional. Your daughter will never see Shade. I’m not a pedophile, Alli.”

  I stare at him, at the way his brow is furrowed right now as he frowns at me. At the youthful tilt to his face. At the muscles that are still damp and are gleaming under the sun’s rays which are pouring in through my kitchen windows. My heart pounds a little, remembering how those muscles had lifted me the other night and had bent me around until he was fucking me from behind.

  I swallow hard.

  “It’s just strange. I was shocked. And now I don’t know what to do.”

  Colby grins and with that ornery curve of his mouth, I see Shade come out.

  “I told you before…I think you need for me to tell you what to do. You seemed to like it the other night. And I’m telling you right now. There is nothing inappropriate about me training your daughter. I’m an excellent swimmer. I swam four years at the college level and won several state championships. I know what I’m doing, I promise.”

  “Oh, I know you do,” I say wryly. “I just… I don’t know.”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Colby/Shade says. “Give me five minutes of your time in here as Shade. Then come outside and watch the rest of my lesson with Sophie. If you don’t see that I can totally and completely separate my two professions, I will gladly find you another swim coach for Sophie.”

  I look at him doubtfully. “You think you can convince me in five minutes?”

  He looks smug. “I’m sure of it.”

  My chin lifts. “Fine. Challenge accepted.”

  Colby/Shade walks to the door and glances outside. “Okay. Sophie is still doing laps. Where is the closest room with a lock?”

  I motion to the laundry room which is just off the kitchen. He drags me there and locks the door behind us.

  “Five minutes,” I remind him. He nods.

  “Five minutes.”

  Without preamble, he quickly pulls down my skirt and stockings and lifts me onto the washer. He bends and with his cobalt blue eyes never leaving mine, his tongue fills me up. I gasp and arch against his mouth.

  I’m self-conscious because I’ve been in stockings all day, because I haven’t showered since this morning and because my daughter could walk into the house at any given time.

  But the door is locked.

  And this feels so freaking good.

  “Relax,” he says, his mouth hovering just above my skin. “You taste delicious.”

  He is a master with his tongue. And very, very good at his job.

  I come in three minutes. I come quietly, without screaming, since I don’t want Sophie to hear and come running. Shade watches my face as I come and I see satisfaction on his. When I am done convulsing (which takes approximately another thirty seconds), he slides me off the washer and against him.

  His penis is hard and the velvety tip is pushed against me. I gulp.

  He covers my mouth with his and I can taste myself there.

  Holy cow. I’m such a freaking vixen, I think. Or maybe I’m just a freak. Either way, there is freakiness involved.

  He pulls away. “Did you taste yourself?” I nod.

  “You taste so fucking good,” he tells me. “I’d like to fuck you now. But I won’t. Because now, I’m going to be Colby and I’m going to go coach your daughter. But if you decide that you still require my services, you can call and make an appointment and I’ll finish this. Alright?”

  I nod. “Alright.”

  “Also, just so you know, you don’t look nearly old enough to have a teenage daughter. You’re gorgeous.”

  He pulls his swim trunks back on and he’s gone before I know it.

  I am utterly relaxed now, both by his compliment and his…um…services.

  I lean against the dryer, trying to still my breathing for a second before I pull back on my skirt. I toss my stockings in the dirty clothes and smooth my hair down before I make my way out to the pool to watch the rest of Sophie’s practice.

  I recline on a pool lounger, soaking up the sun as I watch.

  He was right. He’s perfectly professional and he knows exactly what he’s doing. And Rick has already paid for him. I have no good reason to say no.

  At the end of the lesson, Sophie goes inside to get dressed and Colby comes and sits next to me. And it is clear that he is definitely Colby out here. Droplets from his wet hair drip onto my leg and I wipe them away.

  “Well?” he grins. “What do you think?”

  I shake my head.

  “Fine. I can see that you are professional. And I have a horrible time saying no to Sophie. So, alright. You can continue.”

  Colby looks at me, his blue gaze glittering. He casually towels off his back. His wide, strong, sexy back. I restrain myself from watching. I seriously continue to amaze myself with my fortitude.

  “I can continue as Sophie’s coach? Or I can continue as Shade… for you?”

  He watches me, waiting for my answer.

  I glance at his rippling chest, as his bulging tanned biceps, at the dimple in his left cheek. And then I remember his erect penis pressed against me in the laundry room and sigh.

  “Both.”

  He grins because he knows that he has won.

  And I program his cell number into my own phone that evening.

  I’m probably going to burn in hell for all of eternity. But when I do, at least it will have been worth it.

  Chapter Eight

  (Or: To Hair or Not to Hair? It’s not even a sane question)

  “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” Sara exclaims, staring at me from across the table. We’re at lunch again, at our usual table in the park between our office buildings. “And you didn’t think this was important enough to call me about last night? What is wrong with you? This breaks like every rule in the BFF handbook!”

  “I know,” I sigh, picking at my turkey on whole wheat. “I just felt exhausted. I didn’t even want to re-hash it. It makes me feel like a horrible mother. First I had sex with a gigolo. Then the gigolo ends up in my pool with my daughter. Then said gigolo performs oral sex on me while my daughter swims laps, then I agree to let previously mentioned gigolo continue training my daughter while I continue using his sexual services. Am I insane?”

  Sara nods.

  “Yes. But in a good way,” she rushes to reassure me. “You’ve been too uptight for too many years. You saw for yourself- Colby can be Colby with Sophie and he can be Shade with you. Trust me. As Sophie’s godmother, I would never steer you wrong on this topic. I love that girl. And not even one fine looking piece of dick will sway me from doing what’s right where she’s concerned. In my opinion, you’re just fine. Keep an eye on it. And if anything seems inappropriate, fire his amazingly sexy ass. Until then, enjoy him. Enjoy the scenery when he’s in your pool. Then bang his brains out when you see him on the weekends. That’s my final answer.”

  She folds her arms over her chest as though she is the Great and Powerful Oz, and the Great and Powerful Oz has spoken. I roll my eyes.

  “Well, I’m glad that’s cleared up,” I say wr
yly as I reach for my lemonade. I find myself wishing that it contained vodka. Sara glares at me.

  “I’m serious,” she says. “You’re fine. Now, changing the subject… I need you to date Brian.”

  I almost break my neck as I gape at her.

  “Have you lost your mind?” I ask. “He’s as boring as a plain white button-up. I can’t date him. I’d want to slit my wrists within the first thirty minutes. No lie, Sara.”

  She sighs, as though I have tried her patience for the last time.

  “First, it would depend on who is wearing the white button up as to how boring it is. And second, Brainy Brian will be great practice for you in the dating world. I need for you to get your date on. And I need for you to do it well. I am not having you moping around anymore, staying home on weekends alone when Sophie is at her dad’s. More importantly, I can’t be babysitting you every weekend. There are places for me to go and people to do.”

  I stare at my best friend, wondering if aliens have taken over her body.

  “Do you even know me at all? Wasn’t it me who went to Utopia with you last weekend? And Sophie is hardly ever at her dad’s. And you don’t babysit me! Do you? What is with you?”

  Sara shrugs as she takes an elegant bite of her bean sprout wrap.

  “I just feel a certain responsibility to get you back out on the market. My experiment with Shade went so much better than expected. And speaking of, since you are keeping Shade’s…services, it’s going to work out very well now that you’re dating.”

  “I’m not dating!” I practically shout at her. The couple at the nearest table look over at me, startled. I settle myself down. “Not yet, anyway. Do you even listen to me?”

  Sara levels a stare at me, unflustered.

  “Not usually. Anyway. As I was saying, you’ll be able to date without the added pressure of whether or not to have sex with your date now. Isn’t that perfect? You can polish your dating skills without having to worry about the question of ‘will you or won’t you sleep with the guy at the end of the night’? You can take out your sexual frustrations on Shade, because you’re paying him to sleep with you. It’s a perfect arrangement. And I think you should begin your dating life with Brainy Brian. Because he’s easy and safe and won’t break your heart.”

 

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