Romance: Bad Boy Romance: The Billionaire Revenge (A Contemporary Multicultural Office Romance)

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Romance: Bad Boy Romance: The Billionaire Revenge (A Contemporary Multicultural Office Romance) Page 5

by Horton, Amanda


  Ali began to slowly trace his gaze from Lucy’s eyes all the way down to her lips, leaning slightly inward.

  “I like the way you speak,” he whispered with a smile.

  Lucy creased her eyebrows. What a strange thing to say.

  “You like drunken slurs huh?” she chuckled.

  So responsive was Ali, that the moment Lucy smiled, he smiled too. To be so close to him was such a magical moment. Sitting with someone so responsive, so gentle, so beautiful. She had the feeling that she could say anything she liked to Ali, and he would understand.

  As Lucy slightly leaned further in, a lock of hair fell in front of her face. Ali brushed it back with a finger, stroking her cheek as he pushed it behind her ear.

  Lucy reached her hand to Ali’s face and stroked his cheek in the same way he had stroked hers. Her thumb traced along his bottom lip, which he kissed softly.

  “We drank too much eh,” he smiled. “Lucy I want to stay with you but we should-"

  Lucy leaned inward and gently pulled Ali’s neck in closer. She kissed him passionately, and after a moment of hesitation, he kissed her too. They were soon wrapped around each other, snake like and entwined.

  Lucy massaged his tongue slowly with hers, and following instinctive temptation, she caressed his neck, lowering her hand to tease his bristly chest hair. She smoothed her fingers over his shoulders and slipped off his jacket, but Ali took her hands and gently held them away. He stopped kissing her, but still remained only an inch from her face.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t…you’re his wife.”

  Lucy held a finger up to his lips, treating Ali’s concern as if it were a silly irrationality. She gave him a look of deviousness.

  “He’s not here,” she whispered in his ear.

  Although close to kissing again, Ali was clearly still at war with himself to resist her seduction.

  “I want you,” she said in her hushed voice, taunting him with soft kisses slowly around his cheeks, his eyebrows and neck, as if her avoidance of the lips somehow excused her behavior. When Ali finally gave in and reciprocated, he kissed her on the mouth and she responded even more yearningly than before. Ali had moved on to kiss Lucy’s neck and traced his tongue around her ear lobe before coming back to her lips. His kisses were tender, yet urgent, and his hands massaged her back down to her waist. It was this moment when Lucy’s phone vibrated. At first, they both ignored it, but Lucy eventually slithered out of Ali’s arms to check. As she leant away, they had one more kiss before she stood up and checked her phone.

  “Is everything OK?” asked Ali.

  “Its a text from Richard.”

  She read it to herself; “Lucy, I’m late and I’ll be a while yet. Don’t wait up for me, the men made me stay and play poker. Can’t wait to get home. Love you. Richard.”

  “Is he coming back?” asked Ali.

  “No,” Lucy flung the phone onto the sofa. She ran her fingers through her hair and screwed her eyes shut with the pressure that was throbbing in her head.

  Ali stood up and walked over to her before placing his hands on her shoulders. “What’s the matter Lucy?”

  His text, she thought. Richard was never normally so affectionate. She couldn’t remember the last time he said he loved her, let alone via a text message.

  “You need to leave Ali,” she said, sobering up. “I’m so sorry for this.”

  Ali turned her to face him, almost demanding her. “I know Rich is a friend, but-.”

  “Please go. This was a mistake.”

  Ali gave her a mournful look that made her feel guilty, but he obeyed her wish and left without another word.

  ***

  Lucy awoke with a pounding headache, as if a weight were pressing against her temples. Her ears were sore and echoey and she felt particularly filthy coated in last nights make up. She hadn’t even been sober enough to get changed out of her clothes before she went to bed.

  She turned around to discover Richard was not there, but a smell of bacon and eggs was wafting in from the kitchen. Lucy waited half an hour before she forced herself to get up.

  Downstairs, Lucy was met with an unusual vision of Richard wearing an apron, spatula in hand whilst he was tossing around mushrooms in a pan.

  “M-morning Rich..” Lucy’s sentence turned into a yawn.

  Richard grinned and turned to face her, “Its good to see you on the receiving end of a hangover for once. Sit down, I have breakfast under control.”

  “Oh God no I can’t-“

  “Lucy if I am ever hung over you make me a fry up and everything feels better again. Take a couple of painkillers, go on.”

  Lucy did as she was told, but she was not looking forward to the animal fat and oil that she was expected to consume.

  Richard finally turned the stove off. He handed Lucy a plate of sausages, bacon, eggs, beans, mushrooms and fried bread.

  “Looks great,” she said with a croaky voice. She began playing with her fork, wondering how long she could mess around with the sausages before putting them in her mouth.

  “So go on,” Richard said taking a mouth full, “What happened last night?”

  Lucy decided this; there was no point in lying. Despite his flaws, Richard hadn’t deserved it and Lucy had no right to ignore it. She could only hope he would see it in him to forgive her.

  “I was with Ali, I invited him over,” she said at last.

  “I know,” grinned Richard.

  “You know?”

  “He called me up on my bloody phone in the early hours of the morning. Woke me up. He wanted to know if you were alright.”

  Lucy put her fork down, deciding to give up on the meat.

  “I don’t understand…”

  “He sounded worried.”

  “That’s all he said?”

  “I made you this breakfast, which you look repulsed by, to say well done. I am impressed.”

  “Impressed! By what?”

  “You seem to have made a good impression on someone for a change. I’m glad that beneath all that clumsiness, there is some goodness in you.”

  Lucy pushed the plate away, no longer feeling that she needed to be so apologetic about her lack of appetite. “An insult and a complement at the same time. I suppose that’s kind, by your standards.”

  Richard flung his head back and laughed loudly, “Don’t be so bloody sensitive!”

  It was as if the text last night had never happened. But then something crept up on her and she understood; that was drunk Richard. The man who was more expressive and spontaneous, saying things that popped into his head instantly. She hadn’t seen him that way in a long time, because after being drunk he always cringed at his behavior the morning after. A rare occasion where Richard was true to himself, and she missed it.

  She stared at him across the table.

  “Tell me something Richard. Are you attracted to me anymore?”

  “What a daft question. We fucked for hours the other night.”

  Lucy leaned back in her chair, “ That’s not really an answer.”

  As it turned out, Lucy never got an answer to the question. Richard finished his breakfast and left for work without giving her a kiss goodbye.

  A few days passed before Lucy felt like herself again. She hadn’t been to work at all, and ignored every phone message that was left regarding her Ikebana shop. She was missing customers, perhaps for good, but Lucy did not have the strength to care.

  She knew in the back of her mind, and perhaps she had always known, that Richard did not love her. Sometimes he showed that he liked her, but these moments were like dazzling rainbows in an eternity of rainfall.

  “Its manic at work. I’ll be late tonight,” he said as he pulled on his jacket. “Make sure to collect my suit before six won’t you Lucy.”

  She agreed. She had collected Richard’s suits many times in the past, as he liked them tailored with flawless Italian fabric. He was the store’s best customer. But Lucy felt a slight tingling of excitemen
t at the realization that it was very close to the tennis courts where she first saw Ali play.

  After Richard had left, Lucy sat down with a coffee in the living room. She couldn’t shake off an increasing guilt at the remembrance of her last meeting with Ali. But this was not so much for her unfaithfulness to Richard anymore, it was more a regret that she kissed Ali and then asked him to leave. It was after all, very much her who had insinuated the kiss.

  Dreading the call, she forced herself to own up to her mistake. It rang only twice before he answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Ali, hi. Its Lucy.”

  There was a brief pause. “Lucy, its nice to hear from you. I didn't think I would.”

  Lucy decided to skip the small talk, she couldn’t bare the conversation to drag out any longer than necessary. “I’m so sorry for the other night. I don’t allow myself to drink much for that reason. It was stupid, and I shouldn't have become all emotional like that.”

  “Please, don’t worry about it. It’s forgotten. I’m just glad you’re ok.”

  “Thanks,” Lucy said, letting out a breath.

  She felt a warmth spread inside her and silently wondered how it was possible that Ali and Richard had ever been friends.

  “I’m glad you called,” said Ali. “I’m training tonight if you want to see me again.”

  Lucy hesitated. She felt a combination of bewilderment and excitement at the suggestion. Was it possible that Ali wanted the relationship to continue? She had automatically assumed that Ali had put the encounter down as a stupid mistake, especially given how hostile she was before he left.

  After the conversation, she hung up the phone solemnly. She had called with the intention of clearing up her errors, but now she felt she had made matters worse.

  There was something about Ali, his voice, and his mannerisms that she found mesmerizing. But she mustn’t see him again without Richard, she told herself.

  As she contemplated Ali’s words, her phone vibrated with a new text message from Richard. ‘Have you picked up the suit yet?’

  ‘Not yet, I’m going to do it now.’ She typed before adding, ‘can’t wait to see you when you get back. I’ll wait up.’

  A little later on, Lucy was sitting in a taxi on her way to collect Richard’s suit. He had not replied to her text, which was not unusual. What with all the confusing happenings with Ali, Lucy had not noticed that she had left the house at rush hour, and predictably was caught in a huge traffic jam.

  “I need to get to this place before it closes,” she told the taxi driver, knowing there was nothing that he could do.

  “You’d be quicker walking from here,” the man said, chewing his gum loudly. “Can’t change the traffic jams can I?”

  Lucy paid the driver for taking him this far, and she rushed out, shutting the door with a loud slam. She ran as quickly as she could, but began to slow down as she passed the tennis courts on her left. It was getting fairly dark now and in the midst of the rushing cars, horns beeping and loud engines was what looked like a place of silence. She forced herself to leave, to ignore the tennis courts where Ali was likely playing, and kept walking to the tailors.

  However, upon arriving with windswept hair and out of breath from running, she was distraught to find that it was closed. Three minutes late, she told herself angrily.

  Lucy miserably began walking back the way she came. The ‘failure of a woman’ label that Richard’s friends had given her seemed to be confirmed ever more. She had failed on things like this in the past and was normally met with an angry lecture about how she would never think things through. With misery, she silently agreed with Richard’s argument.

  Lucy began walking close to the tennis courts now, curious to see whether Ali would be playing at a visible distance.

  “Lucy?”

  Entangled in a web of self-loathing, Lucy turned around to find the welcomed site of Ali standing there. He was wearing a white t-shirt and blue tennis shorts. His hair thick and wavy, the way she remembered. Even in the darkness, Lucy could make out his exotic features - his fine nose, full lips and emerald green eyes.

  “You came,” he said delightedly.

  She returned his smile. “I didn’t think I would.”

  Ali led her to the tennis courts that were lit by floodlights, shining brightly over the court and completely blackened out everything in the distance. The lights were very flattering to Ali’s muscular physique, highlighting the definition of his broad chest and casting shadows over his torso.

  Worried that Ali was about to land her with a serious conversation, she teased him to lighten the mood.

  “Teach me tennis.” The suggestion, clearly unexpected, made Ali smile.

  “You sure?” he asked.

  Lucy took her shoes off which were a little too high to be considered for a tennis game. Ali shuffled around a little in a nearby hut and came back out with another racket. He slowly approached her, positioning himself so that he stood behind her and held her arms in place, showing her how to swing left and right handed. It was difficult to ignore the suggestion of intimacy when their hips moved in sync, dissolving into each other with each swing. Ali’s breath felt warm on the back of her neck and his arms firmly held hers in place, secure and powerful. “Like that,” he said, releasing her.

  Ali walked to the other side of the net, and called out some brief instructions, which Lucy found difficult to pay attention to.

  After only ten minutes in to the game, the situation had changed from complicated to hilarious. Lucy was rather terrible at tennis, as they discovered, but Ali was a very patient instructor. It got to a point that after the sixth time of Lucy not managing to hit the ball, they both collapsed in to a fit of laughter.

  Lucy threw the racket to the floor and let go of the ball. “I give up. And now my jaw hurts,” she said in between fits of giggles.

  It had been a long time since Lucy had laughed so hard about anything, and what irony, she thought, for her to be laughing so hysterically when she knew there were many complications and potential disasters awaiting her when she left the courts.

  “Will you come back?” Ali asked her, when they had calmed down.

  “I want to,” she smiled, staring off into the darkness, “you’ve no idea how much.”

  He took both her hands in his and pulled her in to him. “Then come.”

  Still from the opposite side of the net, he took Lucy’s hands and drew her closely towards him. His height was suddenly very apparent, his shoulders stood firmly over hers. She was startled by the strength of his grip as his hold became tighter still.

  She looked into his eyes and he gazed back at her with wonder, as if she was a constellation of stars dazzling in the night sky.

  Lucy moved forward and stepped on a tennis ball that rolled her foot to the side, causing her to fall down in a heap.

  Ali laughed at this too, and crouched down, lifting up the net that separated them.

  Panther like, he crawled under to her side of the court and slithered over her, where their eyes locked in a sweet understanding.

  They kissed a long passionate kiss, during which time Lucy sank into the rhythm of his body, becoming one with him. They continued embracing each other until his whole body rested on hers, pressing her skin tightly onto the warm ground beneath.

  She started to enjoy the firmness of his chest thrusting against the softness of her bosom. Slowly he devoured her in his powerful arms, yet he caressed her breasts with a fluid motion of sensitivity and tenderness.

  Still gazing into her eyes, he pulled the bow of string on her hips, loosening her skirt with as much delicacy and precision as a creation of Ikebana.

  In contrast to their laughter before, everything had become deeply thoughtful, to the point where Lucy was so entranced by Ali that she forgot everything around her, the magic of the moment belonging only to the two of them, and in a blind state of indulgence, she wrapped her hands behind his neck and stroked him, wanting it never to en
d.

  Her fingers glided upwards, teasing through his hair. The pleasure of his touch increased as he lowered his hands, exploring underneath her shirt and then down until he massaged her hips.

  Ali leaned back into a tall position and lifted his t-shirt above his head. His athletic shape silhouetted against the floodlights, a form she now desperately wished to lose herself to. Lucy felt the sweat on his back as he lowered himself down to her again, where they embraced each other with yet more urgency and passion then before.

  Drunk with pleasure, the cool breeze of the air felt intoxicating with his scent. His kissing continued to be as responsive as she had dreamed, playing with every precious moment as if he had chosen it himself.

  He lowered her skirt and she did not hesitate to pull off her underwear, while he simultaneously removed his.

  Now, both naked, she lowered her grip to his posterior and he parted her legs. Being connected to him felt loving and natural, as if this moment was inevitable.

  Serpent-like, Lucy rhythmically rolled her hips upwards as Ali gripped her thighs, parting them further still and increasing the pressure as he rocked forwards and back. His thrust was both powerful yet sensuous, unpredictable with his movements. She surrendered to the motion, gripping the floor and scraping the gravel of the ground, noticing the gritty substance under her fingernails. She absorbed every experience as a treat to her senses, until even the substance of the court contributed to her enjoyment. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes in ecstasy, listening to the sound of Ali’s breath, the cars in the distance and the whistling of the light breeze as it toyed with the leaves of the nearby trees.

  Upon opening her eyes she noticed a full moon glowing down at them. Ali had never taken his gaze away from hers, never having stopped admiring her with wonder. Every time he moved away and in again, waves of intense pleasure consumed Lucy as swiftly as a sharp current of electricity. Ali gripped her hands in response to her moans, pressing them on to the ground, inducing Ali to lean forward and enter deeper still. Lucy caught her breath only when Ali changed the pace. The reduction of speed caused him to move with much more intensity, taking his time to waver and explore her body. As he slipped away from her, they maintained the connection by holding each other’s gaze. Like a child, she held his hand and he helped her up to her feet again.

 

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