Angelic Attraction

by Nicole French

  I feel a flush of adrenaline as he begins to wash my breasts. My nipples harden to his touch as he tweaks and rolls his thumbs over them. I just knew that whatever he was going to do to me would pale my conquest over him.

  “You like me playing with your breasts?” I nod as I bite down hard on my bottom lip, I could feel myself beginning to tingle and twitch down below as it was starting to become full and sensitive. He doesn’t take his eyes away from me which adds an extra dimension to the increasingly heady feeling of building lust. I can see his eyes darken as some erotic act begins dancing around in his mind and I tightened with the thought of what it could be.

  “Stand against the wall” he says gently but firmly “and spread your legs for me”. My heart is pounding ‘what is he going to do?’ I think as I nervously obey his request. Swiftly removing the shower head; he plays the water over my breasts, flicking my nipples with the powerful jet and rinsing off the soap. Then, he drops to his knees and turns down the jets a shade. “One good turn deserves another” he says sexily as he begins to run his slender fingers underneath me—touching everywhere apart from where I desperately want to be touched. ‘God this is amazing’ I can feel myself building, beginning to wriggle in an attempt to maneuver his fingers over my clit which felt so alive it was almost unbearable. He presses his head against my stomach, places his hands on the front of my thighs and opens me up with his thumbs and begins to lick softly, drawing his tongue back and forth.

  “Aaarrrgh” the sensation is divine and soon I can feel my legs beginning to shake—the magic of this man makes my body lose control so easily.

  “Not yet Angel—not yet” he says with a teasing glint in his eye as he pushes two slender fingers deep inside me and begins to finger me while circling my clit with his thumb. I let out a cry as the sensation takes hold of me. “I want to watch you come” he says in a low tone filled with debauchery and begins to angle the jet of water over my clit; fingering me harder and faster. “Open your legs wider” he commands. Two fingers are thrust inside me; moving faster, I can feel my fluids oozing as he’s hitting my g-spot and stimulating my clit at the same time. I begin to tighten around his fingers. I watch him gazing at my clit as he flicks the jet rhythmically over it. I would usually feel embarrassed at being so exposed but ironically the embarrassment and shyness has transformed into a heightened state of pleasure. “You’re going to come. I can feel you gripping me and I can see you starting to twitch.” His words are the tipping point and I let out a cry as my body shakes and an explosion of sensations take hold of me. I can feel warm fluids pouring down onto his fingers and hand. “Oh babe....you’ve come all over my hand” he says with a boyish satisfaction, knowing he has pushed me well over the line of being simply turned on. My legs buckle and I slump forward into his arms, unable to breathe or stand. He holds me close and calms me for a moment. As I steady, he lifts my face towards his while he sucks my fluids off his fingers and kisses me to share my taste. I have never, ever experienced anything so powerful before—and to think that only twenty four short hours ago I had believed that I was non-orgasmic. The thought made me laugh out loud.

  Chapter Four

  I resigned myself to the usual Monday morning routine. Starting up my old car I nonchalantly check my hair and face in the rear view mirror and check my cell phone again before setting off on my drive to work. I had checked my cell phone more this morning than I had done for the past six months. It had become grafted to me; accompanying me everywhere. When Brad had dropped me back to my apartment the night before he had taken my phone and punched his number into it—filing it under ‘Hot Lover’—then he’d called his own cell.

  “Now I have your number and you have mine.” He was very assertive; the kind of man I had dreamed about—hot looking, rich, successful, masterful and amazing in bed, what more could a woman want?

  I arrive at work not even aware of how I had got there. My head is spinning with the events of the weekend and craving to hear from him again. I check my cell phone again as soon as I park up—nothing. No ‘good morning’, ‘thinking of you’—just silence. Should I text him? ‘No, no, definitely not. I’m not getting emotionally involved again’ I think as I gather up my bag of designs and projects and bundle my way out of the car ‘let him do the chasing’. ‘Okay, enough now Angel it’s work time—better get a wiggle on or I’ll be getting the sharp edge of Marlene’s tongue’. I stride over to the main entrance of Fritz House trying to look like the designer I’m aspiring to be. Ventavox Finance is in the next building and I’m wondering if he’s in his office. Maybe he’s watching me right now. I must make an effort to look business-like just in case.

  Kate is looking anxious as I arrive. Kate is another one of Marlene’s assistants and always looks anxious, working for Marlene has that effect, but this morning she was more so.

  “Hi Kate, are you okay?” I greet her with curiosity.

  “Marlene’s called for us both to be in her office in ten minutes to discuss the Spring designs and she’s got Alexandra Philips with her” Kate replies, the words increasing the anxiety on her already fraught face. Alexandra Philips, the up and coming ‘Super Bitch’ of the fashion world—stunningly beautiful but totally ruthless. Even Marlene has been known to fidget in her presence although it is widely known that they frequently socialize together out of office hours and often spend weekends together on their private yachts. Alexandra and Marlene have always agreed not to tread on each other’s toes when it came to business and their designs. They had the power and resources to mutually destroy each other so this knowledge forged a degree of respect between the pair. Before any new collections hit the catwalks there is always a meeting where they inspect each other’s designs to avoid any ‘conflicts of interest’ as Marlene calls it. Alexandra must have called the meeting at short notice. She loved to catch people off-guard, the more unbalanced she can make you feel the more it pampers to her lust for power and massages her insatiable ego.

  “Don’t panic Kate, I’ve got all the design portfolio ready and in order. I made sure they were done before I left on Friday as I knew she’d be dropping in on us anytime.” Kate’s face relaxes back down to a category one anxiety level. “Seriously Kate, I know it’s nerve wracking but you can’t let it show on your face. Alexandra will make you a target if she see’s that you’re flustered.” Kate pauses and takes a deep breath; straightens up her hair and runs the palm of her hand over her forehead to force the anxiety lines away. Inside I am in turmoil but I’d be damned if I was going to let it show. Panic and fear were like blood in the water to a hungry shark when Alexandra was around and there was no way that I was prepared to end up served on a plate to the ‘Super Bitch’. Thank goodness I’d been organized and not left the portfolio till the last minute—‘I guess that was one benefit of having no sex-life’ I think and a flash-back of the immense orgasm Brad had given me in the shower that weekend made a small smile dance over my lips and an exquisite flush and pulsing sensation appear down below. That reminded me to check my cell phone one last time before entering Marlene’s office—nothing. The pulsing sensation dissipated and was replaced by a sinking feeling in my stomach. ‘Is he playing it cool? Or maybe it was just a weekend pick-up’ I pondered ‘but then he wouldn’t have exchanged numbers if he didn’t want to see me again’ my racing mind continued exploring every possibility under the sun.

  “Are you ready Angel, it’s time to go in—don’t want to be late or that will really set it off to a bad start” Kate’s concerned voice broke the mental chatter in my head and pulled me back to the present moment. A Monday morning meeting with Marlene and Alexandra ‘Super Bitch’ Philips. Time to put on the psychic armor to deflect the deluge of overt insults and criticisms that would no doubt be in plentiful supply.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be” I reply lightly, swallowing hard in an attempt to relax the ball of tension in my throat as we make our way to Marlene’s office at the end of the hall. We had almost reached the door when I hea
rd the familiar jingle of my cell phone that I had left on my desk. I stop dead in my tracks and feel my composure collapse from being in control, to shatter in a single second.

  “What’s the matter Angel?” Kate says with panic in her voice again. “Don’t lose it now—I need you for support” Typical, I had been like a ninja around that cell phone all last night and this morning and just when I am about to enter the lion’s den I get a text. The temptation to bolt back and read the message to see if it was from Brad was unbearable, but I knew I had past the point of no return as Marlene’s door flung open to reveal Marlene in full Machiavellian business woman mode.

  “Come on in and look sharp about it” she utters in a low voice laced with urgency. Marlene likes to show Alexandra that she has efficient staff and runs a tight ship. There was no room for compassion or any hint of human kindness in this world for fear of being portrayed as weak. Alexandra is sitting across from Marlene’s desk, legs crossed with an elbow poised on the chair arm casually inspecting a perfectly manicured hand clearly pretending not to even notice the insignificance of mine and Kate’s entrance. “Alexandra darling, these are my top designers—Angel Nichols and Kate Greer” Marlene announces with an authoritative air. Alexandra spins around in a phony gesture of surprize and stretches out a limp, aloof hand for a formal handshake, casting her eyes up and down us both with a critical expression.

  “Do take a seat” Alexandra drawls as if it was her office and Marlene was second in command there. “So, you’re the Angel Nichols I’ve been hearing about are you?” she continues looking at me with the eyes of a cat about to pounce on a mouse.

  “Yes, I’m Angel Ms Philips—pleased to meet you” I reply professionally, trying to conceal the pride I was feeling that this fashion tycoon actually knew I existed.

  “I’m sure you are” retorts Alexandra. I could feel my heart nearly beat out of my chest. ‘Well, that’s the end of the niceties’. I’m all too aware that a conversation with Alexandra is a bit like swimming in a sea of jellyfish—just a series of unpleasant stings that continue till you either end up numb or unconscious. Without a further word, Alexandra turns to Marlene with a bored expression. “Can we get on with this Marlene darling—I have a meeting with Bruce at 11am, then I plan to hunt down your wayward son and get him to take me to lunch to make up for his disappearing act this weekend.”‘Disappearing act and Marlene’s son?’—my mental chatter starts its usual running commentary—‘I can’t blame the poor guy; I bet she’s enough to send a serial killer running for the hills. Serves her right, she needs taking down a peg or two—Lady Ice Queen’ Marlene claps her hands twice quickly to signify impatience and the meeting begins.

  “Most inspiring” Alexandra sneers looking bored and unimpressed by my designs as she beckons for her coat. “Right, I think our meeting’s concluded Marlene”, she turns to myself and Kate and shoots us a look that says ‘why are you still here, go away at once’. Geez this woman gets right under my skin and makes it crawl. She is stunningly beautiful; there is no denying that, but what a rude, condescending bitch. I hate having to take her attitude and can’t help fantasizing a scene where Alexandra would be saddled up on Tonto; my wild and unruly stallion back on my parents ranch. Only I could ride him. Anyone else who even attempted to mount him would be thrown or kicked. ‘He’d sort you out madam’ I think as I fake a smile and head swiftly out of Marlene’s office with Kate scurrying after me. The only thing I want to do now is grab my cell phone and put myself out of my misery. That meeting nearly killed me—trying to keep a focus while swimming with a shark and at the same time thinking about Brad Singer’s body and sexual expertise was nothing short of a juggling act. I hot foot it quickly over to my desk, snatch up my phone and punch in my PIN like a maniac.

  ‘Are you thinking about me touching you Angel?’ sent at 09.13

  ‘Well?’ sent at 09.17

  Damn. Two text messages sent over an hour ago—he must think I’m ignoring him. Oh God yes, I sure am thinking about his touch. I’ve thought of nothing else all morning. I hardly slept at all last night and yet I don’t feel tired; I’m just craving another orgasm like the ones he gave me over the weekend. Better text back. Oh, what to write, what to write?

  ‘Hi, Just been in a meeting. I’m thinking of you now and I’m dripping x’

  ‘Is that too naughty to send I wonder. Hmmm well, he started it so I’ll get him all flustered too’ and without a further thought I hit the send button. Right better get on with my work, I’ve got to alter the neckline on that blouse as Marlene’s not happy with it. My phone jingles again and I swoop on it immediately.

  ‘Do you want me to lick you dry?’

  Oh geez! I can feel myself let out a warm pool as I envision him thrusting his tongue into me. I feel like I’ve been taken over. I will leave it a few minutes before I reply—don’t want to be too eager or let him think I’m there whenever he clicks his fingers. Oh his fingers—those divine, skilled fingers, and I clench inside almost coming at the thought of him touching me. I busy myself and decide that maybe a coffee would be a good idea after the ordeal of having to deal with Alexandra this morning.

  “Coffee Kate?” knowing that Kate’s nerves were in shreds and that a coffee would help to patch them back together. “Oh yes please Angel. Can you stick a whiskey in it too?” she replies rolling her eyes in part stress and part relief. If only we could have a shot of whiskey—now would have been a great time. I stand and gaze out of the office window and down onto the sidewalk below as the machine delivers our drinks. I can see Alexandra getting into the back of a limo as her driver stands to attention whilst holding open the door. ‘I wonder what Marlene’s son is like. Bet he’s an arrogant bastard with a sharp tongue like his mother. He can’t be very nice if he’s going out with Alexandra Philips’ I stare over at the Ventavox Finance offices ‘bet he’s nothing like Brad—my ‘hot lover’’ I grab the coffee’s and make my way back to my desk in case I’ve got another text and to get that design sorted out before lunchtime. “There you go Kate” placing her drink on the ‘Keep Calm & Design On’ coaster on her desk. Kate looks anxious again—now what?

  “Marlene wants to see you straight away in her office” she blurts out like it’s a state of national emergency. Oh no, what have I done wrong now? I wrack my brains to think of something I might have missed but draw a blank.

  “Right—better go and face the music” I say with a casual gesture trying to look unaffected by my well-hidden nerves that were just about strangling me. I take a slurp of my coffee before setting it down on my desk and quickly check my phone. No more messages. He must be waiting for me to reply. No time now, I better get my skinny butt back to Marlene’s office. I make my way briskly down the hallway, aware that the wetness caused from Brad’s texts is now cooling and becoming slightly uncomfortable. I pause outside her door, clear my throat and straighten my skirt before giving a gentle knock and entering. Marlene is sitting with her chair swiveled to face the window, on the phone in deep conversation.

  “Please don’t mess this up for me darling. I’ve got everything balancing on the Spring collection and if you annoy her it could be the ruin of me” Marlene’s voice is soft and pleading—I’d never heard her use that tone before. She clearly hasn’t heard me enter the room. Should I go back out and knock a little louder? I really should, but I find nosiness wins the contest and instead I can’t help myself from standing quietly and listening. “I know Charles darling but please do it for me. I don’t know what the hell’s got into you but she’s on the war path. Just take her to dinner at Guido’s—she likes it there and smooth it over....please? For me darling?” She’s obviously on the phone to Charles, her wayward son. I decide that the best line of action is to clear my throat so she knows I’m here—I let out a polite cough and Marlene spins around. “I have to go now darling...okay....okay....yes.....speak to you later” Marlene puts the phone down and places both her elbows on her desk with a bag and holds her head in her hands. She sa
ys nothing for a moment then takes a deep breath and beckons me to take a seat. As I approach she sniffs slightly and I notice that tears have formed in her eyes although she’s trying to morph back into the Marlene I’m used to. This is awkward, what on earth should I say? Before I can get my brain in gear the words leave my mouth.

  “Are you alright Marlene?” I can’t believe I’ve just said that out loud and I brace myself for the mother of all tirades about knowing my place to hit me like a scud missile. But to my surprise; it didn’t. Instead she looked at me and smiled quite sweetly. The scud missile I can handle; but Marlene smiling? This is really setting me off balance.

  “Oh Angel, what am I to do with my son? He’s lost his way this past year after his fiancée passed away and fell into Alexandra’s clutches—she practically moved in on him at the wake. Charles was so distraught and she took full advantage.” She pauses and takes a deep breath to check herself then softens again and continues. “He’s put me in such an awkward situation. He toys with Alexandra and yet she won’t take her grip off him. If he tries to break it off, she will ruin the spring collection and use her many contacts who owe her favors to ruin Fritz House. I’m getting too old for all this—I grow tired of having to keep my enemies close, waiting for the stabs in my back.” I sit down not really knowing what to say or how to respond. If this had been one of my friends I would have given them a big hug but I think that may be overstepping the mark in this situation. I search my brain for an appropriate reply that seems genuine without being too personal, aware that my lips were moving with no sound coming out looking more like a goldfish than a designer.