Under Her

by Samantha Towle

  I grab a handful of her hair and angle her head, taking over the kiss. I kiss her hard, thrusting my tongue into her mouth.

  Kneeing her legs apart, I settle her head back down to the pillow and come to rest between her legs.

  I can feel her damp heat pressing against my cock.

  Keeping my mouth on hers, I lift my hips, rubbing my length along her pussy. Then, finding her entrance, I push the tip of my cock inside. “Fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.”

  She’s hot and snug and…like nothing I’ve ever felt.

  I keep pushing inside her until I’m in to the hilt.

  I hold still, my dick throbbing inside her. Her pussy feels like a tight, wet fist around my cock.

  “Wilder…please…I need you to move,” she whimpers.

  “Just…” My eyes are squeezed shut. Sweat is beading on my forehead. “Babe, if I move, I’ll come.”

  “I don’t care.” She kisses me. “I need you.”

  She needs me.

  My eyes flash open. I pull out to the tip and slam back inside.

  “Yes! Like that! Keep doing that. Fuck me, Wilder.”

  My control snaps, and I start thrusting my cock in and out of her. Harder with every move.

  “You. Feel. Fucking. Incredible,” I grind out. My hips are snapping back and forth, my balls slapping her ass. I tilt forward a touch, knowing that the angle will cause my cock to rub against her clit.

  “God, Wilder. If you keep doing that, you’re gonna make me come.”

  “That’s the plan, baby.” I grin cockily. Then, I make the mistake of meeting her eyes, and all my bravado slips away.

  Have you ever been to the top of a really tall building?

  I have. About five years ago, I was in Shanghai on business, and while I was there, I went to the Oriental Pearl Tower. It has a glass sightseeing floor about a thousand feet up from the ground.

  It’s the weirdest sensation, being up there, standing on it. Knowing that the only thing keeping you from falling is a glass floor.

  It’s like fear and exhilaration, all at the same time.

  And that’s what I feel like right now, staring down into Morgan’s eyes.

  “Wilder,” she moans.

  Her body contracts as she starts to come, which triggers my own orgasm. Bare for the first time ever, I come, spilling everything I have inside her.

  “Wow,” she whispers. “That was…wow.”

  “Yeah.” But I can barely speak because it’s all so suddenly clear. The inability to want anyone but her. The need to be with her all the fucking time.

  “Hey, you okay?” She runs her fingers over my cheek.

  “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You sure? Because you look…”

  She tilts her head to the side, appraising me, and I swear, I stop breathing because I’m sure she can see it written all over my face.

  “I don’t know. You look different somehow.”

  I swallow down. “It’s probably just because we had sex without a condom for the first time.”

  “Yeah? And how was that for you?”

  Well…

  “It was good,” I croak out.

  She laughs. “Don’t go crazy there, Wilder.”

  Yeah, because the last thing we want is for me to go crazy and realize something, like…oh, I don’t know…that I’m madly in love with you.

  Oops. Already did that.

  Fuck.

  I’ve had the best few weeks of my life.

  I wake up beside Morgan. We have breakfast together and then come to work. We have sex in my office. We don’t fuck in Morgan’s because she still feels weird about the Sierra thing, and she doesn’t want Sierra to find out about us. Chrissy knows. But she can be trusted.

  Then, after work, we go home together to either my place or hers. Eat dinner. Sometimes, we watch Breaking Bad. Mostly, we have sex. Then, we fall asleep together. And do it all over again the next day.

  And it’s awesome.

  I didn’t know it was possible to spend this much time with someone and not get bored. Let alone feel like it’s not enough.

  It’s like nothing will ever be enough with her. I’ll always want more.

  She’s become the center of my universe. If you think about it, it should be pretty fucking scary that I feel so strongly about her in such a short space of time, but I can’t find it in me to care.

  Because being in love with Morgan is the best feeling in the whole fucking world.

  And, okay, maybe I haven’t told her exactly how I feel about her.

  As in she doesn’t know that I’m in love with her.

  I’m working up to it. I just need to find the right moment. Telling someone that you love them isn’t something you can blurt out.

  Especially when I don’t know if she feels the same.

  I mean, I’m almost sure that she feels the same as I do. I think I see it in her eyes when she looks at me and feel it in her body when we make love.

  But it hasn’t been confirmed to me.

  And, yeppers, I’ve reached the make-love stage. Of course, I still fuck her because I’m me. But I make love to her, too. And it’s amazing.

  Life is amazing.

  We’ve been making plans. Nothing major, just things we want to do together. And I’m meeting her friends this weekend. We’re going out to dinner with her best friend, Joely, and her husband, Todd.

  I do remember Joely, but I didn’t really know her that well back in college. Apparently, her husband went to Northwestern as well. Morgan told me that was where they met. At a college party, I think she said.

  I’m just looking forward to meeting the important people in her life. Last night, she even mentioned us going to visit her parents for a weekend.

  Sounds like a big step, right? But, honestly, it doesn’t feel like it. And it’s not like she hasn’t met my parents.

  Everything with Morgan feels natural and right. I’m disgustingly and nauseatingly in love with her.

  Thy name is Wilder, and I am pussy-whipped.

  And I’ve never been happier.

  But it’s always the times when you’re at your happiest that things go to shit.

  Because, when things go up, they always have to come down.

  My desk phone rings, and I pick it up.

  “Wilder, it’s Mom.”

  “Hey, how are you doing? How’s the cruise?”

  Surprisingly, to me and everyone else here—because, even though they retired, they were still here all the goddamn time—my mom and dad booked a last-minute cruise to the Caribbean. They set sail a week ago.

  I’ve been getting regular text updates from them, but this is the first phone call.

  “Fine. Look, that’s not what I’m calling about. Have you seen the business news today?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because Coveted Lingerie just announced a new line. A plus-sized line.”

  “What? You mean…”

  “Yes.”

  Shit.

  Coveted Lingerie is our biggest competition.

  I sit forward and bring up a search engine on my computer. I type in Coveted Lingerie, and sure enough, in the news section, there is their announcement of a luxury line of plus-sized bras at affordable costs.

  “I just…how the hell?”

  “That’s what your dad and I want to know. I thought Morgan said that Ananda was the cheapest supplier around.”

  “She did. They are.”

  “Then, Coveted Lingerie would have to be making the bras at a loss, and I can’t see that happening, Wilder.”

  No, she’s right. They wouldn’t.

  “Maybe they found another supplier. One that Morgan didn’t know about. Or they struck a deal with one of their current suppliers.”

  “Possibly. But, however they did it, they beat us to the punch.”

  “Fuck. We should have announced sooner.”

  I wanted to announce, but Morgan said we should wait until production was underway.r />
  Morgan.

  She’s going to be devastated. This was her deal. Her idea.

  “I need to call Morgan,” I tell Mom. “Let her know what’s happening.”

  “And call Niran while you’re at it. See if he can push production forward. We might be able to salvage this if we can get our line out before Coveted releases theirs. It’s not ideal, but it’s all we’ve got left.”

  “You’re right. I’ll get on it straightaway. I’ll call you back when I know more.”

  I hang up with Mom and dial straight through to Morgan’s office.

  Sierra answers, “Hi, Wilder. She’s in a meeting with HR at the moment. I can get her to call you when she’s done if you’d like.”

  “How long has she been in the meeting?”

  “Oh, thirty minutes or so.”

  I could get her to interrupt, but something stops me. “Okay. Just get her to call me the second she’s out.”

  “Will do.”

  I hang up and tap my fingers on the desk.

  I really do need to talk to Morgan, but honestly, the thought of telling her makes me want to puke. I know how gutted she’s going to be.

  Totally different circumstance because this isn’t Morgan’s fault, but I remember when I screwed up the Renshaw deal. I felt like shit for ages afterward.

  Maybe I could call Niran myself and see how things stand with moving production forward. I could get him to a workable date that would bring us ahead of Coveted’s release. It wouldn’t fix things, but at least it would cushion the blow for her.

  It’s morning here, so it’s late in Thailand, but I need to speak with him. I pick up my phone and dial the cell number I have for Niran.

  He answers on the fourth ring.

  “Niran, it’s Wilder Cross. I’m sorry to call so late.”

  “It’s fine! No problem at all. It is good to hear from you. I wanted to speak to you, say how sorry I was to hear that your company no longer required your order—”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Your order of silk. Morgan called me, oh, a few days ago to cancel. She said that you had found a cheaper supplier and would be purchasing from them. I was very disappointed to find that out because I thought we could do great business together, but I couldn’t go any lower on the price.”

  “She canceled the order? Morgan did?”

  “Yes. I have it in writing, too. She emailed it to me after we talked on the telephone.”

  I can’t breathe. I’m having a heart attack. Or a panic attack. Or both.

  Fuck.

  “Wilder? Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m still here. So, let me get this straight.” I rub my fingers against the pressure building in my forehead. “You’re telling me that Morgan—my Morgan, Morgan Stickford—called you up a few days ago and canceled our order of silk. And that she confirmed it in writing on the same day.”

  “Yes. Was she not supposed to do that?”

  No, Niran. She fucking wasn’t.

  “No, she wasn’t,” I tell him. “So, we need to reinstate the order, Niran.”

  And then I’m going to strangle Morgan after I find out what the fuck she was thinking.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Wilder. I sold the silk to another company. They contacted me not long after Morgan canceled the order. A few hours maybe. It was luck really.”

  I swallow back the bile rising in my throat. “What’s the name of the company you sold the silk to?”

  “Coveted Lingerie.”

  I shove open Morgan’s office door with so much force that it slams into the wall, shaking the room.

  Morgan, Polly, and Chester all jump in their seats, like a shot was just fired.

  “Oh my God!” Morgan gasps, pressing a hand to her chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  I scared her. Funny that.

  Because, right now, I feel like killing her.

  “Wilder?” Her brows draw together. “Is everything all right?”

  “Chester, Polly, your meeting is over. Go back to your offices.” I don’t take my eyes off Morgan.

  At first, they don’t move. Then, Morgan gives them a nod. They both gather up their things and walk quickly out of her office, closing the door behind them.

  “What’s going on?” she asks, getting to her feet.

  “I just got off the phone with Niran.”

  Her face drops. “Has something happened with the silk? Is that what’s wrong?”

  Seriously? This is the way she’s going to play it? The innocent card?

  “I don’t know, Morgan. You would know more about that than I would. I mean, this is your deal after all.”

  “I haven’t spoken to him recently. But, the last time I did, everything was on track. What did he say when you spoke to him?”

  I want to laugh. Not the funny, ha-ha kind of laugh. The are-you-fucking-kidding-me laugh.

  “So, the last time you spoke to him, everything was still on track?”

  “That’s what I just said. Seriously, Wilder, what’s going on with you? You’re acting kind of weird.”

  I do laugh this time. It sounds kind of maniacal. “Well, it’s funny because that’s not what Niran says your last phone call was about. According to him, you called him up a few days ago and canceled the order.”

  “What?” She steps back, her face blanching.

  Oh, she’s good.

  From that reaction, I would almost believe that was the first time she was hearing it.

  “Oh, yeah, and that’s not all he said. He also told me that you confirmed it with him in email. And he was kind enough to send me a copy of it.” I reach into my pocket and toss the folded-up paper version of the email that I just printed off.

  “I don’t understand.” She picks the paper up, opens it, and reads it, her eyes scanning the paper. “This isn’t…I didn’t write this email.”

  “Like you didn’t give your idea to Coveted Lingerie and then pull our order from Niran, so they could take over the deal instead.”

  “No!” she gasps. “That doesn’t even make any sense! I don’t even know anyone at Coveted Lingerie!”

  “Sure you don’t.”

  “I don’t! This was my idea!” She slams a hand to her chest. “Why would I give it to them when I work here for you? Think logically, Wilder. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I have thought about it. Maybe Coveted offered you more money. A better position in the company. Who the fuck knows? But what I do know is, you canceled the silk order with Ananda two days ago. And then, a few hours later, Coveted contacted Niran and bought up all the silk from our canceled order. And, just under an hour ago, they announced their brand-new range of plus-sized luxury bras at affordable prices.”

  “No.” Her hand covers her mouth.

  I see her hand shaking, but I can’t register anything but the blind rage I feel at her betrayal.

  “But…but they can’t do that. Niran can’t do that! He can’t just sell our silk to them. He signed a contract with us.”

  “Which you canceled.”

  “I didn’t cancel it!”

  “Just stop, Morgan. Just fucking stop. I’ve heard enough of the lies. I know the truth. And, now, I’m telling you that you’re fired. Effective immediately. You’ve got ten minutes to pack your shit and get out.”

  Her lip trembles, eyes glazing with tears.

  But I don’t feel a damn thing. It’s like my brain shut down all sense of feeling the second I realized that Morgan had betrayed me. Leaving me with the only source of emotion that I’m currently capable of feeling—anger.

  I watch as she sucks in a breath. Then, she turns and walks away from me, going behind her desk. When she turns back around, her face is a mask.

  “Fine,” she says, her voice stiff and cold. “But expect a call from my lawyer first thing tomorrow morning for unfair dismissal.”

  Well, if those words aren’t like gasoline to my already-roaring flame.

  I let out a disgusted laug
h.

  I can’t believe I loved this woman.

  Still do love this woman.

  “You’re fucking unbelievable.” I take large, menacing steps toward her, stopping when I reach the desk. Looking across at her, I press my hands to the wood and lean forward. I’m practically breathing fire. “You sue us for unfair dismissal, and I’ll haul your ass into court for breach of contract. You signed a contract, Morgan. And in that contract was a nondisclosure clause. Meaning you weren’t allowed to tell the competition a single thing about what work you did here. The plus-sized line might have initially been your idea, but the moment you told it to me, on company time, in a meeting, it became Under Her’s idea. And that, sweetheart, means you broke your contract. And I promise you this, by the time my lawyers are done with you, you’ll be back to pouring coffee in Starbucks, where you fucking belong.”

  Have you ever hit someone?

  I have. In grade school. I got in a fight with Thomas Purdy. He called me a faggot because my parents sold women’s underwear for a living. Gotta love a kid’s logic. Anyway, I clocked him right in the face. It was a good punch. But the point I’m getting to is, when I hit him—just right after my fist smashed into his face, and I pulled my hand away—there was this look in his eyes. Shock. Like he couldn’t actually believe that I had just hit him.

  That’s the exact same look that Morgan has right now. Like she can’t believe that I actually just said those words to her.

  It was probably the same look I was wearing when she slapped me in Thailand.

  Well, now, you know how it feels, baby.

  Only I don’t feel better for it.

  And you know what’s worse?

  She doesn’t react the way I expected her to.

  I thought she’d tell me to fuck off. Yell at me. Maybe even slap me again.

  But she does none of those things.

  She presses her hands to her stomach, like she’s in pain. Then, she straightens up, picks up her purse and cell phone from her desk, and walks straight past me and out of her office without saying a word.

  Misery is lodged in my throat. Like my heart was trying to climb its way out of my body to escape the agony that’d been wrecking me since Morgan walked out of here yesterday, and on its way up, it got stuck in my throat, choking me ever since.