My heart rate spikes as we turn onto John F. Kennedy Boulevard. What am I doing? I reach the point of no return when I head into the Fielding House building.
“Good morning. Is Mr. Hayes in?” I ask the receptionist at the front desk. She’s beautiful with her short blonde hair, light makeup, brown eyes and lush pink lips.
“Good morning. Who may I say is asking?” She smiles sweetly at me as she picks up the receiver.
“Please tell him it’s Sullivan.”
She does just that. She then directs me to his office, which is twenty-five floors up. I try to gather my thoughts in the elevator; what I’ll say to him. All that goes through the window as the elevator dings open and I see Ben’s statuesque figure lingering in the hallway.
He looks every part the powerful business man with his hands in his pockets. I stare lustfully at his body looking absolutely majestic in a black fitted pinstripe suit, white shirt and inky black tie with silver stripes, and shiny black shoes. When he sees me, his eyes soften before smirking that damn sexy smirk that makes my pussy clench. He holds his hand out to me and I take it as he ushers me into his office.
The office is encased in mirrored glass. I stumble a bit, flustered, at seeing the way he holds my hand as he pulls me toward his office. It seems so natural, feels so comfortable. It freaks me out. I tug my hand from his as he opens the door and I step inside the soft cream-carpeted space with an air of pretension. I will not let him get to me.
I am amazed by his office. As I enter, I spot a large LCD television to the bottom right corner of the room. Floor to ceiling windows light the space where his large brown mahogany desk stands, furnished with a Mac Pro computer, a pen holder, an odd carving and a stack of papers. Three plush black chairs with armrests sit in front of his desk, while his is a large black and brown padded leather chair. To the left of us is a black leather sofa and adjacent to it, a black and silver mini fridge.
The moment he closes the door, I pounce, not wanting to lose focus by thinking about hot, raw sex in his wonderful office.
“How dare you fire Simone,” I attack.
“Well, hello to you too, Sullivan,” he says, amused.
“Cut the shit, Ben. Give Simone her job back,” I demand.
“Give me what I want,” he demands in response.
I scoff at his audacity. He really did fire her so he could get to me. “You prick.”
“Yes. I’m a businessman, Sullivan. In this game one has to be a prick. I have to get what I want, Sullivan, and I will go to any lengths in order to get it. Simone was an unfortunate sacrifice. But I want you that much. It’s that simple,” he explains, locking his eyes on me, as if this is a business negotiation.
I should feel flattered. He let one of his best employees go, just to be with me.
“I don’t want a relationship,” I manage to say.
“I thought we already established that, Sullivan.” He struts over to me, pressing his firm chest to my side.
“You know what I want,” he says in a soft rasp that makes my core clench in response.
“Will you reinstate her?” My voice is thin and airy. His proximity makes the hairs on my arms stand and my center quiver. His scent is stimulating, powerful. Paired with his beguiling presence, I am pulled into him with an unseen force. I dig my heels into the floor and tense my body so as not to launch myself at him.
“Just say yes, Sullivan.” His hand brushes my lower back. I want this man terribly. He presses against me and I feel how powerfully his heart is beating inside his chest. “Say yes,” he cajoles in a whisper that tickles my senses.
“Yes,” I breathe, as I succumb to the devil. Before I can take another breath, his lips are over mine.
My purse falls to the ground as I throw my arms around him. He cups my backside, urging me to wrap my legs around him and I do just that. He moves around his desk, not letting me down, and pushes a button that causes his office door to make a hissing suction sound.
“The door was open. Anyone could’ve barged in,” he answers the question my eyes ask.
I grab the ends of his hair and pull him back to my lips. He kisses me roughly, his hands gliding all over my back. We stumble toward the sofa and he lays me gently on it, towering over me. I want to climb him like a tree; he’s so regal and extraordinary. He’s a mountain of a man and he wants me.
“You are so sexy,” he pants, shrugging his jacket to the floor. “Why’d you have to wear pants?” he grumbles. “Damn it.” He scrapes his fingers along my legs and for a moment I wish I hadn’t worn them.
“Protection.” My voice is soft but husky with desire. I could kick myself for wearing pants, now when I want him so much.
He lets out a deep chuckle, taking one of my feet in his hand. “A chastity belt couldn’t keep me away from fucking you, Sullivan.” His voice is dark and sexually sinister as it reverberates through my body. Oh how I wish he’d just take me.
Slipping my pump off, he places light kisses on the sole of my foot where I feel the sensation in my groin. He rests my leg down and does the same to the other foot. He trails kisses around my ankle, every so often letting his tongue lick a wet path, and the tingles that started off as small ripples, become thunderous waves crashing through my body. It is slow torture.
“Shit,” he swears, leaping up. His office intercom had buzzed. Pressing a button on the phone, a woman speaks through the speakers.
“Your 10 o’clock is on his way up, sir.” It’s Simone’s voice.
I quickly sit up to see him smiling.
“Thank you, Simone. Oh, and our little plan worked,” he says staring at me with wry amusement. “Thank you for your help.”
“Simone?” I can’t believe it. “You tricked me?”
Giggling, she says, “Yes, sweetie. I’m sorry. He signs my checks. He twisted my arm. I’ll make it up to you.”
I scowl at him and he ends the conversation.
“Are you mad?” He winces.
I purse my lips and fold my arms. I’m actually flattered, but I want to have a little fun with him first.
“Oh, God, you’re mad.” He paces over to me, and reaches for my cheek. Caressing it, he apologizes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. Sullivan, I would have done anything to make sure that I had you. If you had a boyfriend, I’m not sure if I wouldn’t have hired a hit out on him.”
“Ben, it is just sex.” I can’t understand why he is so determined to have me.
“God, yes it is. And it’s the best I’ve ever had. And I really want to continue having mind-blowing sex with you, if that’s alright. No strings? Fine. I’ll deal with it. As long as I get to please this sexy body of yours while getting off, I’m fine. Holy shit, I’ve never had to trick a woman into having sex with me. And…fuck, I’m rambling.” He exhales deeply and flushes.
I grab onto him to calm him down. “Breathe, Ben. If it’s any consolation, you’re the best I’ve ever had too.” And that’s the truth. “Now get yourself together. You have a meeting in two minutes. We can talk later.”
I start putting my shoes on and he cups my face and kisses me. “What’s that for?”
“I just needed a memory of how your lips taste.” His green eyes twinkle and I smile. I could get lost in those.
He walks me to the door and, before releasing me, tugs me to him and whispers sternly but seductively, “Meet me at the hotel we were at on Saturday. I want you kneeling on the floor in just those heels when I get to the room.”
My tummy somersaults and my core clenches deliciously. His command lingers in my ears as I leave his office, desire spurting licentiously through my veins. I walk toward the elevator with a stupid, satisfied grin on my face. I can’t wait for later.
In the lobby, I head straight to Simone, slapping her arm.
“Ow!” she yelps. “Violence solves nothing, Sullivan.”
“Well, it sure makes me feel better. I can’t believe you set me up. I thought you were my friend,” I say with mock disdain
.
“Sully, you’re every woman’s hero right now,” she states. “You’re fucking the green-eyed God,” she whispers. “Do you know how many women, old and young, would kill to have Ben speak to them, let alone want to fuck them? I gotta admit…I was a little jealous.”
I scoff at her. I know I’m making a mistake being with him in any capacity. I know I’ll end up hurting him, but he is just so damned irresistible and it didn’t help that he kind of bulldozed me into that little arrangement.
“Don’t overthink this, Sullivan,” Simone admonishes knowingly. “Have fun.”
I give her a warm smile. She’s right. I should have fun. And it will be fun. I am friends-with-benefits with Philly’s hottest bachelor.
As I step out of the Fielding House building, an unwelcomed thought stops me in my tracks.
Publicity.
CHAPTER 8
Publicity. I never gave it any thought. All my previous relationships, though each man was of some kind of prestige and wealth, were pretty low key. I’d been as cautious as I could be considering those men were high profile. There were few times where I’d been photographed with them, but for the most part, the relationships remained out of the public eye. It kind of all worked out for the whole ‘not-in-it-for-the-money’ deal. This time, though, it all feels different.
With Ben, there seems to be a greater risk of the public eye. Being with Ben would certainly bring attention to myself; something that I have been able to avoid for years. What if the press finds out about Ben and me? What if they try to dig up who I am and find out my real name and my real story? I can’t risk being found out.
Rick can’t find me, and I can’t risk Ben finding out the truth about me. Shit, I’ll take Rick finding me and getting arrested over Ben knowing how sick and truly disgusting I am. I can take everyone else looking at me with judgment and contempt, but not him. I just…it would ruin me if he looked at me like that. It would ruin me to see him hurt because of my sick, twisted life.
Not bothering to try to figure out when I’d developed a heart, I turn to head back into Fielding House and to break off this arrangement with Ben. I remember then that he is in a meeting and decide to do it when I think he’s through. I don’t want to let him down, but as I walk along JFK Boulevard, I reassure myself that it is for his benefit.
Who wants a gold digging whore – who was pimped out by her birth mother for two years when she was eight, who got adopted at ten years old after her mother went to prison, and who is currently running from the cops after shooting a guy – in their life? That is too much fucked-upness for one person to handle. Only Rae and I can handle my mess. Which reminds me; I need to talk to Rae to get her opinion on all of this.
“You worry too much,” Rachel says to me. “In the last four years you’ve had how many high profile relationships?”
“Six,” I answer flatly, sounding like an errant child.
“And have you been found out yet?”
“No.” The feeling lingers. Rachel always had a knack for bringing things into perspective and making me feel terrible about thinking as negatively as I always do.
“Good. Now shut up with all that doubt and fuck his brains out tonight,” she advises me.
I laugh at her command, knowing she means me well. “Thank you, Rae. I knew you would put things into perspective for me.”
“Yeah, yeah bitch. I love you, okay?”
“I love you too, bigger bitch.” We both hang up after smooching each other through the phone.
I’m excited all over again and it’s a good feeling. I haven’t been this excited about sex since…well, since Jared really. But Jared – God rest his soul – was no Ben.
Ben is killer handsome and so excruciatingly sexy, that it isn’t fair to the male race out there suffering from a large case of the ugly and awkward. He commands everyone’s attention with his powerful demeanor and striking green eyes. I sensed dominance all over him from the first night I saw him. He’s been trying to reel it in, but I sense a shift in him. I can’t wait for him to unleash his true self on me. I feel privileged that I will get to experience him in that way. I can’t wait!
I don’t know where the time went, but I find myself at the hotel in a room Ben had reserved, eating the grilled turkey breast with sage leaves and crisp white wine he had ordered for me through room service. Earlier, he’d said he would’ve been late because of a business dinner he had to attend, but that the mode of dress still applied for me. Even in a text, he could get me hot and bothered.
After taking a shower, I slip on the long black and white silk robe he’d bought. I found it lying on the bed for me when I first entered the room, as well as a dozen red roses. I was impressed, still am.
Caressing the silk on my body and drinking this wine, anxiety looms over me. He said he would be here at eight and it’s now fifteen minutes to the hour. I decide to give Rachel a quick call.
“I thought you’d be writhing in pleasure by now?” she teases as she answers the phone.
“He’ll be here at eight. He’s got a business dinner,” I tell her.
“Are you nervous?”
“A little,” I answer truthfully. “God, Rae, he bought me a beautiful silk robe that was waiting for me when I got into the room, along with dinner and a dozen roses. I mean, who does that? And we’re not even dating!” I am very flattered by all he has been doing to get my attention and to sweep me off my feet, but it’s a little overwhelming, to say the least.
Sex has never been about feelings, wooing, grand gestures or deep thinking for me. Dick to pussy…or any other desired hole. I learnt that as a child, sadly. Sex was associated with pain and humiliation for me, never about pleasure. So as early as ten years old, I learnt to fake an orgasm. I had to, if I wanted any respite from the writhing, misshapen, sweaty and hairy body that was jollying himself inside me.
As my teenaged years wore on into adulthood, no matter how much my fuck of the week – or day – plied me with sweet words, I was always able to disconnect the feeling part of me and tap into my porn star/prostitute persona; one who just fucked for show and for cash. To most, it might have been deemed a sad existence, to never have had the pleasure of making love or attaching feelings to the act; but for me it was the only way to survive.
I had let my guard down, but only once. Just those sweet experiences of making love were enough for me to want something that I was never meant to have in the first place. Jared had broken my walls down easily. He loved me mercilessly and forced me to give in to him. He literally did. Tied me down once and straddled my legs and refused to let me go because I told him I was leaving him. Things were getting too intense with us at the time; my heart was beginning to beat again. I thought it was too soon after all that had happened in New York and couldn’t handle it.
Back then we were living in Pittsburg where he was practicing law. We met in Philly after my last day of rehab and we moved in together within a month. After tying me down, I tearfully confessed why I was scared to be with him, as well as my true identity. I thought he would have run. He should have, because he might have been alive right now.
Since his death, I’ve never let another man close to my heart, like they could ever get that close anyway. Ben is drifting dangerously close though…already.
Not. Good.
“Honey, just enjoy the ride,” Rachel advises, breaking into my thoughts. “And I do mean ride…in whatever form it comes,” she cackles at her clever remark. I snicker too. “Go have fun. Get yourself warmed up for him.”
“If I get any more warmed up, I’ll melt. I’ve been creaming for him all day,” I confess.
“Well, shit. Rock his rich socks off tonight, Sullivan,” she urges, stating my alias, which tells me Ryan is with her.
“Say hi to Ryan for me.”
“I will. And if you don’t come home tonight, I won’t worry. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” I hang up the phone and exhale sharply.
Yes, I will rock hi
s world, that is a given. But I am more eager to experience his ardent lovemaking, to experience the dangerous instincts lurking behind those striking green eyes of his. I know it’s there. The darkness. The dominance. I’m scared because, well, who wouldn’t be scared at first? That’s a scary relationship to be in, but, I’m also desperate for it, and that scares me the most.
I can sense his proximity. The hairs on my body rise with expectancy. Somehow my body is attuned to him. I sink quickly to the floor and shrug my robe off so it pools around me.
Am I kneeling in the right position? What do I do with my hands? Should I put them at my side? Should I be caressing my body with them? Should I raise them under my hair like a pin-up model? I was never this flustered with any of the other men I’ve had sex with. I’ve never even genuinely cared or tried this hard to be appealing, and this is dangerous for me…maybe even for all parties involved.
I can feel the flush associated with my nervousness flash across my face. I take a deep breath to gather myself, willing my thoughts to settle into the pleasure zone and skirt away from thoughts that would prevent a good time – which it will be.
I sit back on my heels with my legs spread in a lascivious way, and let my hands glide in between them with my palms flat on the soft carpet.
My eyes gleam as they meet the fine specimen of a man in the doorway. His lips curve wickedly and his eyes darken. My eyes flit to his erection. Wow. Did he have that the whole time or was it instantaneous upon seeing me? Whatever it is doesn’t matter at the moment. All I can feel is that deep sense of longing pooling in my belly.
With a click, he closes the door behind him and my heart leaps. He strides toward me, stripping his jacket off and throwing it with determined grace on the bed. He leans down, tilts my chin up and kisses me spiritedly, soft moans escaping his throat. I reach up to run my hands through his glorious mane, but he pulls away, smiling wickedly at me. He extends his hand and I take it getting up, appreciating the relief from kneeling.
I teeter a little as I get sensation back in my legs. He grabs me and pulls me into him, steadying me against his hard chest. I feel his breath on my face and I bathe in its cool blow, which sends a tingle down my spine, and as I close my eyes to breathe him in, his lips find mine.
Tainted Love (Book 1) Page 7