by Whitney G.
Letting the warm water hit me on my face, I shut my eyes and wondered how much more liquor it would take for me to forget this mess of a night.
I reached for my soap, but the sound of my shower door opening and closing caught me off guard. All of a sudden, Gillian grabbed my arm from behind and squeezed my bicep, forcing me to turn around and face her again.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She stretched out her arms as if she was about to push my chest, but I grabbed her hands.
What the fuck…
“Does that feel good, Jake?” Her face reddened. “Someone coming from behind you and yelling at you for no reason?”
“Gillian…” I narrowed my eyes at her as the water above fell over the both of us.
“How about if I did it in front of a bunch of people in public?” She was on the verge of tears. “Do I need to wake up all your neighbors and invite them over so we can recreate the same effect?” She tried to break free from my grasp, but I held her still and pushed her against the tile—pinning her arms above her head.
“I think you need to calm down.” I tightened my grip on her wrists.
“Well, I think we need to call my roommate over and have her innocently flirt with you and compare my reaction so you can see how a mature person would react.”
“You consider what you’re doing right now to be mature?”
“I consider it necessary.” Her dress slid down a bit as the water fell harder, exposing the top of her breasts. “This is necessary until I get the apology you know I deserve, or else.”
“Or else, what?” I wasn’t sure what it was about this woman that got under my skin and effortlessly drove up my blood pressure, but if we didn’t end this tonight, I was pretty sure she’d soon have that shit down to a science. “Are you going to fucking talk me to death?”
She was suddenly quiet—a shocking rarity, but seething all the same. Her green eyes were glued to mine and her lips were tightly tucked into her perfect mouth.
“No words?” I asked. “Does that mean you’re finally ready to leave?”
“It means you’re in fucking denial,” she said. “It means you’re a bigger asshole than I could’ve ever imagined. And addictive sex or not, I will never speak to you again.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“I won’t.” She swallowed. “I think you like me a lot more than you’re willing to admit.”
“So, you’re not done talking…”
“Regardless of what you claim, you like when I call you late at night.”
“That’s why I hit ignore so often?”
“You like talking to me because you don’t have anyone else, and I know you don’t have any other friends.” She tried to move again, but I didn’t let her. “I think you even like when I try to get to know you better, when I ask you my questions.”
“I hate your goddamn questions.”
“All I want is an apology.” Her voice was firm. “But if you don’t want to give it, it just means you’re a bigger asshole than I ever imagined, and addictive sex or not, I can promise you, I’ll never talk to again.”
“Okay. Fine.” I immediately let her hands go and stepped back. “Step out of that dress and I’ll show you just how fucking sorry I am.”
“What?”
“Take off that dress—excuse me, that piece of a dress, and I’ll happily show you how sorry I am, Gillian. Do I need to repeat it again?”
Silence.
“You can’t seriously think that I want to have sex with you right now…”
“I don’t think you know what the hell you want.” I noticed her nipples hardening through the silk fabric. “And I’m starting to think we’re going to have some problems if you don’t make whatever that is a lot clearer.”
“Jake…” Her cheeks reddened as I dragged my finger against the zipper on the side of her dress. “Jake, I just want you to say that you’re sorry.”
“Take off that dress and I will.”
She stood still staring at me for several seconds, an ultimate stalemate. Her eyes never left mine, mine never left hers, and after what felt like forever, she unzipped her dress.
It fell to the tile floor in a drenched pool of green silk, confirming that she was wearing absolutely nothing underneath—making me even angrier that Evan had put his hands on her. She started to stoop down to unbuckle her silver stilettos, but I grabbed her hand—telling her to keep them on.
I pulled her close to me, holding her directly under the water. Without saying anything else, I pulled her down onto the shower bench.
Her lips latched onto mine—angry and wet, and she bit my tongue each time I tried to explore her mouth. She fought for control—cursing at me, trying to push me back against the bench so she could be on top, but I gripped her waist and easily flipped her over.
“Get on your knees,” I whispered, pulling her back by her hair.
She slowly leaned forward, bracing herself against the wood—her perfect ass and heels facing me.
I gripped her hips and slid inside her drenched pussy.
“Ahhh…” She moaned as I thrust all the way into her, as I slapped her ass.
“I’m sorry…” I whispered into her ear. “I’m very sorry, Gillian…”
She breathed out a soft, “Fuck you,” and I slapped her ass once more.
She cried out as I pounded into her again and again, as I gripped her hips and made her take every inch of my cock.
“I said I was sorry…” I bit her shoulder. “Is that good enough for you?”
She didn’t answer. She just moaned, moving back against me.
I grabbed her hair and pulled it back until her head tilted back and her eyes were on mine. “Are you going to accept my apology?” I slid my hand between her thighs and rubbed her clit, making her moan even louder.
“Is that a no?”
Her clit swelled beneath my fingertips, her pussy dripped onto my fingers. “You can demand an apology, but you won’t accept it?”
“Yes…”
“Yes to you accepting my apology or yes to you not accepting it?”
“Ohhh…Oh goddd…”
“Answer me.” I tugged her hair and suddenly felt her pussy clenching my cock. “Is my sorry not good enough, Gillian?”
“I…” She shut her eyes as her body shook against mine.
“Yes…Yes!” She screamed one last time and fell forward.
Coming right after her, I held her sides so she wouldn’t hit the bench face first. Our breathing was heavy and in sync, and I waited until it was somewhat normal before pulling out of her.
I positioned her so she was sitting up and against the wall, and then the both of us sat still—the warm shower water still lashing against our skin.
After several minutes, she turned to look at me, her sexy green eyes meeting mine. “I missed using this shower.”
I smiled, holding back a laugh and stood up. I turned off the water and grabbed her hand, pulling her up and leading her into my bedroom.
“Here.” I handed her a towel and wrapped another around my waist.
I walked into my closet and pulled out the bottom dresser drawer where I’d tossed more of the random things I’d found hidden around my place since she first left. I grabbed a pair of black leggings, an oversized Boston U. T-shirt, and a pair of panties. And for some reason, I left her other clothing items inside and closed the drawer.
I returned to the bedroom and sat down next to her, handing her the clothes.
“Thank you,” she said softly, looking surprised. “Where did you find these?”
“Where they didn’t belong.” I put on a pair of black sweatpants. “But you’re welcome.”
She looked at me as she put on her clothes, giving me that strange look she often gave when we finished having sex.
“Did I hurt you?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “I would’ve told you in the shower.”
“I meant at the gala. Did I grab your arm from
behind the way you did to me here?”
“No.” She shook her head.
I sighed, hesitating. “I am sorry, actually.”
“For talking to me the way that you did?”
“For doing it publicly.”
“Jake—”
“Yes,” I said, taking her hands and helping her stand up. “I’m sorry for talking to you that way.”
“So, it won’t happen again?”
“Not unless you feel the need to talk to my brother again.”
“I won’t…” She bit her lip. “Were you adopted? Is Evan your stepbrother?”
“This conversation can’t happen,” I said. “Drop it.”
“Evan never mentioned a brother when I interviewed him at my newspaper years ago. I’m just asking.”
“Gillian, if you and I are going to work—” I tried to keep my voice calm. “If whatever the hell this is is going to work, I mean, I need you to drop this and never bring it up again. It has nothing to do with whatever the hell we’re doing.”
She smiled a sarcastic smile. “Are you saying you’re now open to more since you do enjoy talking to me? That you could see yourself falling in love with me?”
“This is hardly love.”
“Then it’s hardly lust.”
“Then we’ll just call it us.” I rolled my eyes and led her into the guest bedroom, picking up her clutch on the way and handing it to her. Hitting the lights, I walked her over to the bed and pulled back the sheets. “You can sleep here tonight. I’ll have you taken home in the morning.”
“Thank you.” She climbed into the bed, looking sexier than ever.
“How did you get here tonight?” I asked.
“My roommate dropped me off.”
“You’re lying.” I saw it in her eyes. “How did you really get here?”
“I took the bus.”
“Were there no cabs or Uber drivers available?”
“Yes, but some of us weren’t born rich, so we have to wait until pay day to have access to our money.”
“I wasn’t born rich,” I said, roughly fluffing the pillow behind her head. “Next time you’re that angry, just get a cab. I’ll pay for it.”
She looked stunned. “Is that an open invitation to stay at your place whenever I need to?”
“I think you’ve stayed in my place more than enough.” I slipped my hands beneath her thighs and pulled her closer to me. “But fuck no, that’s not an invitation to stay here at all. Outside of tonight, I can guarantee you’ll never spend the night here again.”
“Too worried you’ll catch feelings for me?”
“Too worried you’ll think I’m catching feelings for you.” I trailed her lips with my finger. “I’m not, Gillian, but I do enjoy talking to you. Sometimes.”
She let out a soft breath and started talking again—launching into one of those long monologues, slowly turning me on with each and every word that fell from her puffy pink lips.
This time, when she finally finished, I just stared at her. Then I realized I needed to end this conversation right now before we had sex again, before I failed to get enough sleep for my flight tomorrow night.
I didn’t say anything else to her. I simply took one last look at her, hit the lights, and walked away. I walked into the kitchen, put away the shot glasses and bourbon, and retreated to my own room where her previous strawberry scent was just now beginning to fade away.
Laying back on the bed, I stared at the ceiling, wondering how the hell we’d once again gone from arguing to fucking to cordial conversation.
Every other woman I’d argued with in the past—no matter the discussion, instantly landed on my ‘never speak to again’ list. Our ties were immediately cut, our communication forever frozen to that one particular moment in time. Yet, multiple arguments later, and I wasn’t feeling the need to block Gillian’s number or replace her with someone else.
When I finally shut my eyes hours later, I drifted into the easiest sleep I’d had in months. But when I woke up, I realized that I wasn’t in my own bedroom anymore. I was laying next to Gillian and she was wrapped in my arms.
Blog Post
Gillian
Present Day
I don’t want to get my hopes up, and I don’t want to forget how quickly he’s capable of switching the hot and cold switch, but I really like him. A lot more than I probably should…And regardless of the nonchalant tone he sometimes takes with me, the way he now kisses me, and the way he takes his time fucking me, only reveals he likes me, too.
That said, I think this man is going to get me fired…
The discretion we shared before—the perfectly weighted “Meet me here” at this time, is now replaced with “The second I see you, we’re fucking.”
He takes my hand in public—leading me away with no regard for our hundreds of coworkers or whoever else may see. Each time, I attempt to play it off as some type of silly game, but I always lose because he only fucks me harder every time I do that. And the day he fucked me in an abandoned food court stock room in Minneapolis/St. Paul International, I started looking up new jobs.
It’s only a matter of time.
Write later,
**Taylor G.**
1 comment posted:
KayTROLL: You’ll be getting yourself fired. Just like before. At least this time you won’t have anyone else to blame but yourself…
Blog Post
Gillian
Present Day
* * *
There are now nightly phone calls, endless emails as we fly overseas, and text messages that never fail to make me wet. And yet, despite the fact that we are talking more than ever, that he only occasionally sends me those “This message is not about fucking” lines, he only lets our conversations skim the surface.
Questions about his past or his family are still abruptly cut short, any mention of ‘us’ is quickly dissolved into other safe topics, and when he can’t find another distraction, he ends our discussion with sex.
And last night, after he took me against the door of my hotel room closet, he kissed me so long and deeply that I could’ve sworn I heard him say, “You’re not good for me…But I like you anyway…”
At least, I think that’s what he said…
Write later,
**Taylor G.**
* * *
1 comment posted:
KayTROLL: The only reason I haven’t unfollowed your blog yet is because I pity you and your life. And your train-wreck posts make me feel ten times better about myself.
Gate B20
Jake
Orlando (MCO) --> Hawaii (HNL) --> New York (JFK)
The taste of Gillian’s pussy was still on my lips from a tryst hours ago in Orlando, providing enough of a distraction from another long week. It was also a mental diversion that kept me from paying too much attention to this morning’s current pilots’ meeting. Almost.
“So…” A man in a badly tailored blue suit stood in front of the small conference room, addressing me and twenty other pilots. “As you all know, we at Elite have the best benefits packages out of all commercial airlines, the best planes in the sky, and we also have the best track record for safety.”
“Did you really call us in here to read the company brochure aloud?” I asked. This meeting had gone on for half an hour too long already. “I have far better things to do in Hawaii.”
“Of course, you do, Captain Weston.” He rolled his eyes and hit the lights, forcing a screen to fall down over the wall. “I called this meeting to discuss our non-fraternization policy.”
All of a sudden, a grainy image appeared on the screen. A pilot in uniform tugging the hand of a flight attendant past an “Under Construction Zone.”
“Now, the airports don’t typically install the high grade cameras in the construction zones because, well…What would be the point of that since they’re practically off limits, but a passenger caught this happening weeks ago and posted it on social media with the caption: Bet the pilo
t is about to fly his cock up her runway.”
There were a few laughs from the other pilots.
“There was also this clip.” He clicked the remote, and a far clearer picture began playing. A video of a pilot in uniform kissing a woman against a wall in a closed and empty food court at Seattle International.
“Now,” he said. “This is only a formality, as we’re simply speaking to all Elite pilots who have flown routes to these particular airports during the times that the videos were taken. Needless to say, although what goes on in your personal bedrooms is none of our business, the idea of two employees blatantly breaking our non-fraternization rule when we so adamantly market our rules to the public is a bit…” He tapped his chin. “It’s a bit shameful. No, another ‘s’ word…Shocking? Staggering? No… Scandalous.”
He finally settled on a term and hit the lights. “If you know who this is, I suggest you tell them that we’re on to them. And if it’s you, I suggest you tell us at once so we can immediately terminate the flight attendant and have you sign off on the pilot’s breach of policy form. You’ll be subject to a disciplinary action, but you’ll keep your job, as long as you cooperate. ”
He continued to talk as he handed out paperwork, but I kept my eyes on the screen behind him. The videos were playing on a loop, but since me and Gillian’s faces never looked up or to the side, there was no way of knowing it was us. It only appeared to be two employees who worked for the same airline, two employees who were kissing in a way that looked like they didn’t give a fuck if they got caught.
“Are you listening to me, Captain Weston?” His question snapped me out of my thoughts. “Captain Weston?”
“Yes?”
“I said you can leave the airport as soon as you sign the non-fraternization policy again.” He gestured around the now empty room. “You’re the only one still sitting here.”