by Ylana MIlls
He smiled sadly, and his eyes once again searched for hers, as if looking for some sort of encouragement to go on. He had never actually talked about that to anyone, and now he realized that voicing it, hearing the words, made everything even more real… and painful.
"Turned out he had fled to Europe, running from the police."
He let out a chuckle, trying not to fall into that darkness, one more time, as he spoke.
"He never even tried to contact me. I don't even know if he is alive," he concluded, making sure to lock away all those feelings before they got the best out of him. "You told me your parents left you when you were a baby, and that it hurt, because you never got to know why?" he said. "I was twelve, I remember everything. My father left me because he didn't care."
And then, when he looked at Eliza again, she saw she was holding out a napkin, with a deeply sorrowful look in her face.
Devon hadn't even noticed he was crying.
"Thanks," he muttered, slightly embarrassed with how that conversation had progressed. "I'm sorry, I just… I don't really like to talk about it."
He made sure to wipe away his tears as quickly as he could, struggling to put up his 'I-couldn't-possibly-care-less' act back in place.
Eliza knew he was fighting a losing battle. In those last few minutes, he had revealed far too much about himself to be able to stuff it all back inside, and what would be the point, anyway? She hoped he understood he didn't have to pretend to be someone else around her. That it was okay to hurt. She hurt as well. He wasn't alone.
"And how did you make it?" she asked, in a whisper.
"You keep living. You try to put it behind you," he shrugged, putting away the apple sauce and lying on the blanket to look at the sky. "You think you'll get over it. But you don't. You don't get closure. And before you know… You are fighting so hard to stop feeling like crap that you just get yourself into stuff that makes you feel like crap even more."
"You shouldn't feel like crap, Devon…" she said, leaning towards him and touching his face. You're… you're amazing."
He chuckled, shifting his glance to the blue eyes hovering over his face.
"I mean it!" she said, smiling heartily. "You're quite the package, aren't you? You know how to use an iron, a stove…" she bit her lip as she spoke. "Your fingers…"
Devon's eyes went wide as he heard Eliza's final words.
"Where did that come from?" he asked, and his voice was more than amused.
"I'm just trying to make you feel better!"
"Thanks, that was very… naughty of you," he replied, laughing as he reached out to touch her face and feeling another pang in his heart. "I wish my ex-wife had been that appreciative, as well," he muttered. "She never liked me much."
Now, why, why did he have to bring Kimmy into this, anyway? Probably because his feelings were all over the place? How pathetic of him to hold on so tightly to the role of underdog… Loved by no one, wanted by no one. Pffff… Seriously! By now, he should know better! He should at least show he still had some self-esteem.
Except that right now he didn't actually feel he had any.
"Well, your ex is a cow," Eliza said, looking into his eyes. "You deserve better."
Everyone had their bad days. She had had her fair share herself. She had been vulnerable, just like he was now. He would get better. All he needed to realize was how special he was.
She wanted him to feel appreciated. She wanted him to know how much she appreciated him.
She moved over to place her lips over his as her hands slid up his chest from under his sweatshirt. She loved the heat of his skin, loved to sense his breathing patterns change as her nails grazed his body. She flicked her tongue inside his mouth as she moved one of her legs over his, and then climbed on top of his torso to steady herself, feeling his hands on her hips, going up her back until he reached her neck and his fingertips touched her scalp, sending shivers up her spine.
She broke the kiss and let out a moan as she placed his hands over her breasts, feeling his cock twitch and strain under her legs.
"Eliza…" he whispered, knowing that as he did so, his eyes were burning with lust. Yet, he was not sure he was in any condition to give her the sex they deserved. Right now, he was so painfully aroused that he feared she would barely have the time to warm up before he reached his long awaited climax. "I don't know… I don't th-"
"Sshh…" she whispered back, placing a finger over his lips. "Let me take care of you."
They would have time to do it together on some other occasion, and he had no idea how much she craved to feel his hot throbbing sex inside her. She shuddered at the mere thought. There would be time for everything, for every single fantasy she had nurtured since they had met, for every single encounter she had visualized as she touched herself, countless nights, thinking of him.
Now, however, was not the time to focus on her urges, though she knew, judging by the wetness between her legs, that she would get off just as much as him with what she was about to do.
After she helped him out of his sweatshirt, she pressed a soft kiss on his lips, and then made her way down his body, ever so slowly. She kissed his jaw before biting his neck and let her fingertips dance across his collarbone, then pressed wet kisses down his chest, letting her tongue trail languidly down his skin, until it reached his navel. She stopped, and raised her eyes to his face.
Devon had raised himself on his elbows to look at Eliza as she made her slow descent towards his crotch. His mouth was dry, and he wondered if she could hear how fast and forcefully his heart was pounding inside his chest. A moan escaped his throat when her hands finally brushed against his jeans, touching the huge bulge between his legs.
He was so hard.
Eliza carefully unzipped him and reached out for his erection, noticing a wet stain of pre-cum in his boxers. She then remembered that he had probably been desperate for release since the night before, when he had come so close to let all his desire spill into her. He raised his hips slightly so that she could pull down his jeans and boxers, and his cock sprung to her attention, swollen and hot.
She wet her lips as her hand formed a fist around his shaft, moving up and down his length, at first slowly and loosely, then faster and tighter. She cast a final look at Devon and saw him biting his lower lip as his chest heaved up and down, as if breathing was becoming a more difficult task at each passing moment.
And then, her moist lips closed around the tip of his cock, savoring the beads of liquid excitement that were starting to accumulate there. She felt her own sex tingle as her tongue swirled around his shaft, feeling him throb as her warm mouth engulfed him. She angled her head so that his cock could slide further into her mouth, and plunged onto it until his glans touched the back of her throat. Blinking as she successfully pushed away the gag reflex, she deepthroated him for a long minute, before letting his shaft out of her mouth.
Devon's sight was blurred as pleasure roamed him, scorching every single nerve in his body. When Eliza finally released him from the velvety depths of her mouth, he saw a string of saliva connecting his cock to her lips, and felt he wouldn't last much longer, which was a shame. He wished he could revel in her touches and hot wet kisses for much more time.
"Eliza…" he moaned, as wind blew past the trees around them. Everything was silent, except for their groans and moans and the wet slurping sound of her mouth working miracles on him.
She lifted her eyes to him again, stretching an arm towards him and catching his hand on hers. Their fingers intertwined and she wished he knew she would not let go of him. Somehow, as he squeezed her hand in his, she knew he did.
"Eliza," he moaned again, this time reaching for his own erection with a trembling hand. His breath was coming in short gasps now, and the tingle in his balls announced he was about to fill her mouth with his semen. "I'm gonna cum."
"I wanna taste you," she said, reaching down to touch herself and finding out she wouldn't last much longer either.
She dug her nails into his thigh as his fist slid up and down his shaft furiously. Then, his face contorted in a silent cry, and the first spurt of his hot semen landed on her neck. She quickly wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock so that she would catch the others in her mouth, tasting him, feeling his release slide down her throat, letting the musk scent of his sex fill her nostrils as he dumped more of his cum into her mouth.
For a split moment, it occurred to Devon that Eliza might end up choking on his massive load. But then, what could he do? He had waited so long to get some release that of course his whole body was overreacting. When his cock finally stopped twitching, he felt absolutely drained. Even breathing required an amount of energy that he didn't feel he had anymore.
He let his sweat-covered body slump back onto the blanket, but his hand was still clinging to hers. Now that he thought about it, he was sure that he had been squeezing her hand so hard that it was a surprise he hadn't broken her fingers in the process.
Eliza's eyes had fluttered closed as pleasure raided her body as well. She pressed a kiss to his still fully engorged shaft, and her lips made their way up his chest until she reached his collarbone again, tracing patterns with the tips of her fingers until she reached his face, and kissed his forehead.
When blue eyes met brown, she knew her heart no longer belonged to her.
Staring at Eliza as she smiled at him, Devon's heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second.
He felt the same.
Chapter 6: Awake and sober
Devon Shaw wondered what he should say, or do, when Eliza Clark opened the door on that Monday morning, after how the day before had ended. He remembered they had stayed together for a long time, lying on that blanket, in silence, just staring at the clouds above them as he put himself together, trying to recover his senses.
Then, they headed back to her place, he showered – somehow expecting she would join him, which she didn't – and just when he was about to leave, she kissed him. He realized, however, she was hesitant as she did so, and for a moment he wondered if it was because she regretted what she had done to him at the club.
He honestly hoped she didn't.
The fact she was still his boss was perhaps troubling her. If that was the problem, then he was about to give her the solution: his resignation letter. After all, he had to admit that working at her place didn't feel like a job anymore, and now, more than ever, getting paid by her sounded far too awkward. He would gladly continue with his chores, though, if she wanted him to, but she needed to know she didn't have to pay him for that.
All she had to do was ask.
He let out a sigh, and finally pressed the doorbell.
-----
Eliza Clark shot up from the couch, trying not to spill her cocoa all over the place as she did so.
He had arrived.
For the last few minutes, as she watched the clock approach seven o'clock, she had wondered what she should say, or do, when she saw Devon again. She remembered when they kissed at the club, and then… Heavens, she had given him a blowjob! More than that, she had enjoyed every single minute of it! The look in his eyes before, during and after it when he stared at her still gave her the chills…
But what if she was misreading the whole thing? He worked for her. She was paying him to be at her place every day at seven o'clock sharp. Would he even be back if it wasn't for his duty? She had kissed him before he left her place the night before – what kind of message was she sending?
She slowly walked towards the door and took her time to open it. When she did, there he was: hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, wrinkled forehead, those puppy eyes, and the lovely smile.
She couldn't help but smile back.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning. Come on in."
She saw him walk into the apartment, and drop his backpack on the couch, just like he usually did. So that would be it. Just another day of work, and the usual 'let's pretend this never happened'.
Maybe it was better that way.
"So," she said, after clearing her throat. Her eyes had landed on the lamp next to the TV rack, and she had to thank the forces of destiny for the fact it was not working. All of a sudden, she knew what to tell the man who was standing with his back turned to her. "I was wondering if you could make the time to fix that lamp ne-"
"Can I kiss you?"
He had turned his head to look at her, and the hoarseness in his voice made her skin flush.
'Damn you, Shaw!' her mind screamed in frustration. Why couldn't she simply look away when he stared? Why did she feel like a foolish teenager in love when she was near him? Well, maybe because she was foolishly in love with him, after all. However, he didn't really need to know that – at least, not that fast.
"Now that is a strange question, don't you think?" she said, poking her glasses higher up her nose and trying to look as serious as she could.
"I still work for you," he replied, with that amused look that showed he was about to have a lot of fun with that conversation. "Might be awkward, but I really think I should know."
"Know what?"
"If I can kiss you or not."
"You shouldn't be asking if you 'can' kiss me, Devon," she answered, moving closer to him. "The real question is, should you be kissing me?"
A-ha! Her brains were back, from wherever it was they had gone to when she opened that door! She had successfully approached him without blushing, and now it was his turn to come up with a decent response.
If only that was the case, though. Eliza had barely finished her question when the man let out a chuckle and spoke again.
"Oh, I know I should. I must. All I need is your permission as my boss," he said, taking one step closer and giving her one of those daring smiles. "It's back in your court."
She had to blink several times at his audacity.
"How… How dare you?" she mumbled, as her eyes darted around the room. If she looked at his face, he would know she was running out of arguments. He would win. She couldn't let him.
"I can do this all day."
It was the most absolute truth. Seeing Eliza struggle to keep her cool when she was so obviously thinking about the same thing he was – that is, wild, wet making out in the couch, maybe a quickie before she went to work – was simply priceless.
"Ok. So I am your boss," she said, taking off her glasses to rub their lenses with the fabric of her shirt, another excuse not to look at him in the eyes. "Clearly, that is an issue we have to sort out."
"Actually, I already have."
Eliza watched as Devon gleefully reached out for his backpack, in another of his usual displays of swagger. Sometimes she just felt like punching him for being such a tease.
"Here," he said, giving her an envelope.
"What is this?"
"My resignation letter."
"Oh…"
She felt her heart sink at his words, and sure as hell her face gave her away. She was clearly disappointed. So after everything, he would just leave?
"So you're quitting?" she whispered.
"The job, yes. Doesn't feel right to get paid by you, not after yesterday."
'Yeah right… Why stay now that you already got off, you mean,' she thought, before letting out an unhappy chuckle. Of course. She should have known. In the end, he was just like all the others.
"What?" he asked, looking at her with a frown.
"Nothing. It's just… funny," she replied, putting her glasses back on and crossing her arms, trying to ignore the bitter taste in her mouth as she spoke. "All the men that have crossed my path were in it either for the money or for the sex. I just find it ironic that you're leaving after getting both."
For a split second, it occurred to him that he should point out they still hadn't covered all the bases when it came to sex, but then the sudden realization of what she had actually said hit him like a bullet in the back.
"I… I…" he stuttered, his voice a mixture of anger and disappoint
ment. Was that what she really thought of him? That he was in it for her money, or because of the sex? "Eliza… I… what the hell? Do you really think I'm resigning because… I… you… we, what happened…"
"It's fine. No need to explain, really. It's not the first time I have this kind of conversation."
He noticed that her eyes had lost the amused spark of minutes before, and there was an undeniable tone of sadness in her voice. It wasn't the first time people were walking out on her, he got it, but goddammit, he was not walking out on her!
"Eliza, I think you got it all wrong…"
"Oh, I know I did," she said, giving him a faint smile. "I actually thought…"
She paused. She had thought he cared about her. But then, it had been her fault. Maybe she had been alone for so long, and ended up enjoying his company so much, that she had failed to perform the occasional reality check. The man was only doing his job. In the end, he was not the one to blame.
"What?" he asked.
"It doesn't matter."
"Eliza, the reason I'm resigning is…" he continued, surprised at how fast the situation was deteriorating, "is because I don't want you to think I'm here for the money. I'm not. I mean, of course I need the money, but to tell you the truth, three days into this job, and I actually felt like it wasn't even a job. I mean… Just being with you… just… doing things for you, to see you happy… that was the best payment I could get. I should have resigned a long time ago. I just… I just…" he stuttered again, trying to find the right words to say. "I'm sorry if I made you think I'm leaving. I'm not leaving, I just… I'll pay you back every cent as soon as I get another job."
One look at that man's face, and Eliza knew he meant every word. She had to mentally tell her heart to stop leaping around joyfully in her chest, and also her own mind to stop repeating the part in which he defined her happiness as his best payment.