Naughty

by Velvet

  Puzzled, she asked, “Then whose house is this?”

  Jacob didn’t say a word, just got out, walked over to her side of the car, and opened the door.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as Jacob reached for her hand. Since Jacob didn’t know the family who lived in the house, Naomi wasn’t about to stretch her legs in some stranger’s driveway.

  “Come on. Don’t you want to see the house?” There was that sly smile again.

  “Stop playing, Jacob, I’m not in the mood for trespassing. Would you please tell me whose house this is, before someone calls the cops?”

  “It’s ours, Naomi. I closed on it last week. I wanted to surprise you,” he said, nearly pulling her out of the car.

  Surprised? She was shocked. The last thing Naomi wanted was a house in the ’burbs. She was a city girl, and the complacency of the suburbs had no appeal to her. “Jacob, why didn’t you discuss this with me before making such a major purchase?”

  “Like I said, I wanted to surprise you. What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?” he asked, waving his arms at the monstrosity of a house. “Come on inside. Let me show you around,” he said, taking a set of keys from the breast pocket of his blazer.

  As he unlocked the massive door, she stood there feeling as if her world had changed right before her eyes. Once Naomi walked into the marble foyer, she realized it had changed forever. Visions of strolling their baby along Madison Avenue and having high tea at the Peninsula with her girlfriends began to dissipate as they toured the mini-mansion. Though she had always wanted to live in a million-dollar home, she preferred to live in their million-dollar apartment in the city. At least in the city, she’d be in close proximity to her friends, and could easily get out and have dinner with them when Jacob was working late, but now she’d be another suburbanite who only came into Manhattan on special occasions.

  “This can be the baby’s room, since it’s near the master suite,” Jacob announced, walking into a room the size of a studio apartment. “It’s large enough to set up a play area once he’s old enough,” Jacob said, pointing to a nook near the back of the room.

  “It’s nice,” was all Naomi could say. She wasn’t the baking-cookies-Stepford-Wife type. “Jacob, it’s really a nice house, but . . .”

  “Nice,” he interrupted. “It’s well over seven figures of nice!”

  “Don’t get upset. All I mean is that I never planned on living in the suburbs. I thought we would continue to live in the loft. There’s more than enough room to add a nursery,” she said, trying to plead her case.

  “This is not the suburbs, Naomi. It’s Old Westbury. There’s a distinct difference. Anyway, the school system is superb here, and I have no intention of raising a child of mine in the middle of a busy metropolis,” he said in no uncertain terms.

  Realizing that this was a done deal, and there wasn’t any sense in arguing the point since he had already bought the house, she walked over and hugged Jacob around the waist. “Thank you, honey.” Naomi could feel the tension in his back as he stood stiffly in her embrace. To clear the air, she reached up and kissed him on the lips. “Thank you, honey,” she repeated, this time emphasizing every word.

  Jacob looked down at her and said, “You’re welcome.”

  She tried to hug him closer. “Honey, don’t be upset.” But her slightly protruding pregnant belly stood between them.

  “I’m not upset. Just disappointed that you don’t appreciate what a wonderful house this is. Do you know how many women would jump at the chance to live in this elite community? There was a time that our ancestors could only work in this type of neighborhood, and you’re telling me that you’d rather live in the crowded city,” he said with a tinge of sadness in his voice.

  She stepped back and looked up into his sable brown eyes. “I appreciate this house and I appreciate you. This is more than I could have ever dreamed of. I would be honored to live here with you and our baby.” She searched his eyes for any signs of doubt, and then asked, “You believe me, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Now let me show you the master suite.” He turned and walked out the door.

  The master suite was three times the size of the baby’s room. The vaulted ceilings and ivory marble fireplace gave the room a romantic feeling. Naomi walked over by the French windows as the sun cast a radiant glow throughout the room. “This is where the bed should go,” she said, becoming more comfortable with her new home.

  Jacob looked at the nook by the window that she was pointing to and nodded. “That looks like a good place.”

  It must have been a combination of the pregnancy hormones, the room, and the warm sun, because suddenly her body began to heat up with an overwhelming sexual desire. She could feel her nipples harden beneath her turtleneck. She removed her sweater and tossed it on the window seat.

  Jacob looked confused. “Why’d you take your top off?”

  “Because I’m hot,” she whispered in a naughty voice as she slipped out of her slacks. She patted the cushion of the window seat. “Come here.”

  Jacob began to walk slowly toward her. “Naomi, what are you doing?” he asked, looking at his wife clad only in her bra and panties.

  “Come closer and you’ll find out.”

  With Jacob within inches of her open legs, she reached out and began to unbuckle his belt. They always had enjoyed a steamy sex life, but ever since Jacob found out she was pregnant, he’d been treating her like a porcelain doll, afraid to touch her, as if she would shatter into a thousand pieces. It had been three weeks since they had last made love.

  “Stop, Naomi.” He pushed her hands away. “You’re pregnant.”

  “I’m pregnant, not dead,” she remarked and continued struggling with his belt until it was unbuckled. Pulling his hips forward, she unzipped his pants. “Jacob, I want to make love to you.”

  “I do too, but . . .”

  Jacob stopped midsentence the moment her hand made contact with his sex. She began to massage him until she felt him grow beneath her touch. His pants dropped to the floor as she unleashed his member. Naomi lay back on the cushions of the window seat and removed her lace panties, then unhooked her matching bra. Jacob licked his lips at the sight of her luscious, enlarged nipples. He leaned over and began to suck her swollen breast like a newborn feasting at mealtime in the middle of the night. She arched her back as he slipped in between her naked thighs. Naomi let out a slight moan as Jacob slowly and gently entered her.

  He stopped suddenly. “Am I hurting you?”

  “No, baby. Please don’t stop. Don’t stop,” she pleaded, grabbing his backside and pressing him deeper inside. With no further instruction needed, Jacob made love to her like never before.

  THAT WAS NEARLY five years ago, she thought, and glanced over at the window seat where they had first christened the house. Naomi looked at the clock again. Where the hell is he? She picked up the cordless to call his cell phone, but put it down when she heard him walking up the stairs. Naomi threw back the covers, exposing her body in a sexy, black lace negligee. She folded her arms underneath her breasts for increased cleavage, hoping her husband wasn’t too tired to notice her rack. The romance novel that she was reading had made her horny, and she wanted to experience the exact same passion as the characters in the book.

  “You’re still up?” Jacob asked nonchalantly as he entered the bedroom, totally ignoring Naomi.

  “I was waiting up for you,” she said in a low, sexy voice.

  Her come-hither tone escaped him as he walked over to the closet without looking in her direction. “For what?”

  She climbed out of bed, followed him to the large walk-in closet, and stood in the doorway, letting the light shine through the sheer silk fabric of the gown, exposing her naked body underneath. “So we could make love.” Naomi put her hands on her hips and pouted. “Jacob, it’s been weeks and we’re past overdue.”

  He walked over to her and finally noticed her titties poking through the sheer negligee. He rubbed the
back of his hand against her nipples, and then grabbed her by the waist. “You look great, baby.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “But I’m totally exhausted.”

  “What else is new?” She sighed heavily and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “It seems these days the only thing you have time for is work. I’m feeling neglected. Jacob, don’t you find me attractive anymore?”

  “Don’t be silly, Naomi. I just said how great you look. I’m tired, that’s all. Just give me a few hours of sleep.” He pecked her on the cheek again. “I promise, by morning I’ll be rested and ready to make up for lost times,” he said, and walked past her into the bathroom to take a shower.

  Realizing that she was beating a dead horse, Naomi relented and got back into bed. With the anticipation of morning lovemaking dancing through her mind, she finally fell asleep and dreamed about wild, uninhibited sex with her husband. But the dream turned into a nightmare when she awoke to an empty bed the next morning.

  There on his pillow was a note saying, “Forgot about an early meeting. I’ll make it up to you tonight. I promise. Love J.R.”

  She crumpled the note in one hand and tore the covers from around her body with the other. In an attempt to extinguish her lust-induced inferno, she stormed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Naomi stepped into the icy-cold spray trying to cool her fire until Jacob could quench her desire.

  3

  “MR. REED, your wife is on line two,” Jacob’s assistant announced through the intercom.

  “Charlotte, please tell her I’m heading to a meeting and I’ll call her as soon as it’s over,” Jacob said into the speakerphone, gathering notes for his nine o’clock meeting.

  “Yes, sir,” his assistant said, before disconnecting the line.

  The mere fact that Naomi was calling this early was a clear indication that she was beyond upset about the broken promise of early-morning loving. She hardly ever phoned before noon. She was usually too busy getting their four-year-old son, Noah, ready for preschool. He truly loved his wife, but his time these days was limited. Being a partner for Kirschner Gross, one of New York’s leading accounting firms, was demanding. The firm had recently landed an important account. The client, Mira Rhone, CEO of FACEZ, a cosmetics conglomerate, was temperamental at best. She needed to be handled with kid gloves, so Jacob decided to oversee the account personally. Suddenly his regular ten-hour days increased to twelve, oftentimes fifteen, leaving the remaining nine to cram in quality time with his family, get in a little golf, some sleep, and little else. Jacob’s strong work ethic was instilled into him by his parents. Though they were blue-collar workers, they worked hard and sacrificed to send their children to college. His parents wanted him and his sister to have opportunities in life that they never had. Jacob knew that he could’ve eased up on his work schedule, but he didn’t. He had promised himself years ago that he would work hard until he had a few million dollars in the bank, so in the event anything ever happened to him, his family would always be secure. In the back of his mind he could still see his father working two jobs just to make ends meet, and he was determined never to struggle financially like his parents had done.

  Charlotte buzzed again. “Mr. Reed, Ms. Rhone is here.”

  “Show her to the conference room. I’ll be right there.” Jacob retrieved the file on FACEZ from the credenza, gathered the remaining notes from his desk, and headed toward the door with the file tucked underneath his arm. Unbuttoning the suit jacket that was hanging on the back of the door, he put it on, smoothed down the front, and then adjusted his tie before leaving for the conference room. Mira was a sharp dresser, and he wanted to make sure that his appearance was up to par.

  The offices of Kirschner Gross were state-of-the-art. Every workplace, from the executive offices to the five-by-six cubicles, was equipped with high-tech, flat-screen computer monitors. In contrast to the staunch, dimly lit atmosphere of the Old World accounting firms with their mahogany corridors and tucked leather furniture, Kirschner’s environment was bright and airy with contemporary Scandinavian furnishings and precision track lighting. Located on an entire floor atop the Empire State Building, the office had commanding views of the city. The floor-to-ceiling windows of the conference room faced west and offered unobstructed panoramic views of New Jersey. Rivaling the commanding view was the room’s focal point, an imported, twenty-foot, rectangular, teak conference table. Sleek swivel armchairs in butter-soft taupe leather complemented the table perfectly. Completing the look were numbered prints by renowned artist Romare Bearden hung throughout the room.

  At the head of the table sat Mira Rhone, with her long legs crossed, talking on her sleek cellular phone. Mira’s great-grandmother, Mirabella Rhone, the grande dame of the cosmetics industry, had transformed FACEZ from a cottage industry initially based in the UK into one of the world’s premier manufacturers of makeup, skin care, hair care products, and fragrances.

  In her late twenties, Mira epitomized the look of the industry. Her golden brown skin was a shade darker than her light brown eyes, which had only a hint of shadow on the lids. Her high cheekbones had only a dusting of blush and her pouty lips were brushed with just a touch of nude gloss. The “natural” look was flawless. Her coal black, wavy hair was tied back in a tight chignon at the nape of her neck. Dressed in a midnight blue, haute couture, pinstriped suit with the skirt cut right at the knee and a pair of navy sling backs, Mira was the perfect picture of sophistication.

  “Yes, Oliver, I understand that production is on schedule for the adult line, but I want to be ahead of schedule,” Mira stated unequivocally.

  Jacob cleared his throat to indicate his presence, so that she would end her conversation, and they could begin their meeting.

  Mira looked up in his direction and mouthed, “Just a moment.”

  He was irritated that she was sitting at the helm of the conference table, a spot reserved for partners. But based on her body language—reared back in the chair with her legs crossed—he could see that she had no intention of moving. Instead of making an issue out of the seating arrangement, he pulled out one of the side chairs, sat down, and waited for her to complete her call.

  “Being ahead of schedule was GG’s motto and I intend to keep up the tradition,” Mira said, referring to her great-grandmother, who had passed away a year ago. “Oliver, we’ll have to table this conversation until later,” she said, looking over at Jacob, who was thumping his fingers on the table. Obviously he was getting impatient.

  Jacob listened as she wrapped up her conversation and couldn’t help but notice how poised and in control she was for a young woman, and her confidence turned him on. His dick began to twitch at the thought of fucking her. He had a secret crush on Ms. Rhone, but had yet to act on it. He had to play the “cool” card, and act professional. She gave no indication of interest in him outside of business, so he’d just have to bide his time until an opportunity presented itself.

  “I apologize for the delay,” Mira said, depressing the end button on her cell.

  “Not a problem,” he said, taking his mind out of the gutter and focusing back on business. He removed two copies of the company’s balance sheet that offered a snapshot of FACEZ’s financial state, and handed one to Mira.

  “I wanted to meet with you this morning to discuss the financial health of the company,” Mira said, taking the balance sheet. She paused for a few moments and glanced over the report.

  “As you can see, the company’s assets far outweigh the liabilities.”

  Mira nodded. “As I expected.”

  He continued. “The key revenue driver is the skin care line. Over the last two quarters, FACEZ has held a solid market position.”

  Mira nodded again, and then said, “When my great-grandmother moved from Jamaica to London in her twenties and started this company, with a single product, night cream for women, she had a clear vision to succeed, and I plan to take FACEZ further by expanding into the children’s market with Baby FACEZ, a line of
body products for kids.”

  “Well, the company is definitely on solid financial ground and is in an excellent position to expand.” Jacob had to admire Mira’s tenacity. She could have easily rested on the laurels of the company, sat back, and collected a fat check. But here she was forging ahead with a new product line, geared to a completely different market.

  “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, because I already have our chemist working on new formulas,” Mira said, recrossing her long, lean legs. “I’m planning a trip to our London office next Wednesday to speak with the board regarding increasing the startup capital for Baby FACEZ.” Since the company was founded in the U.K., the main office as well as the board was still located there. “I would like for you to go along to present the financial projections.” Mira took a leather-bound agenda out of her briefcase. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

  Actually, it was a major problem. Next Wednesday was Noah’s fifth birthday, and Naomi was planning an all-out celebration with riding ponies, clowns from Circus World, and actors dressed like Tinky Winky, Dipsy, and the rest of the Teletubbies gang. Working late and leaving early she could understand, but missing their son’s birthday party would be unforgivable. “Actually, Mira, next Wednesday is no good for me. Can we move the meeting to the following week?” Jacob wanted nothing more than to go on a business trip with Mira. Maybe then he could orchestrate a seduction plan, but as luck would have it, London was out of the picture—at least this time.

  “That won’t work for me.” She thumbed through the calendar in her agenda. “I’m booked solid with meetings for the next month, so it’ll have to be next week,” she insisted.

  He pondered the situation for a few seconds trying to come up with an amicable solution. Finally it hit him. “What if I have one of my senior associates accompany you and make the presentation?”

  Mira sighed, as if frustrated. “I’d prefer it if you went instead. It would make for a stronger case if a partner presented the financials.”