The Pursuit of Passion (Taylor & Adam)

by Liv Bennett

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. It won’t happen again.”

  “Forgiven and forgotten.” I wait a brief moment, thinking how I should proceed to sound him out to explain what happened the previous night. “I hear it was a wild party last night.”

  “Was it? I don’t know. I stayed only half an hour just to say hi to Bree and give her a present.”

  “Let me guess; a plush toy?”

  He laughs heartily into the phone, prompting me to pull away the receiver from my ear. “No, not a toy. A pair of gold earrings.”

  “You bought her a pair of gold earrings?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. “She’ll think you’re into her.”

  “So what if she thinks that.”

  I shouldn’t care if she thinks he’s madly in love with her, but I do. Shit. The idea of him being into Bree makes my stomach churn. I rub my forehead with my fingers, trying to think of a way to escape his trap. “Nothing. Only, you have to report it if you’re having a relationship with a colleague.”

  “Taylor, Taylor, Taylor.” The way he whispers my name causes my pulse to speed and blood to rush downward to my sex. “Are you jealous of your secretary? Well, maybe you should be. I must admit the way she flaunts her tits kind of turns me on.”

  “You’re disgusting.” Snapping the phone shut, I throw it over to the desk. It begins buzzing immediately. I don’t need to look at the caller ID to know it’s from Adam. When I don’t answer, he calls my office phone. I lift the receiver and put it back to stop the annoying ringing. But, he doesn’t give up and calls over and over again.

  A new email alert pops up on the screen, I lean down to read the sender’s name and see it’s from Adam.

  “It was just a joke,” the subject line says. I click on it to read the rest of the email. “She doesn’t wear any revealing clothes and you know it. I just said it to push your button. Please, forgive me and have dinner with me tomorrow night. PLEAAASSSEEEEEEE.”

  Yeah, right. My cellular buzzes again. I wait a long moment before answering it.

  “I have only eyes for your tits,” he says as soon as I hit the answer.

  “If you keep on annoying me like this you won’t get to see them again.”

  “No, I swear I’ll be good. Let’s meet tomorrow night. I miss you so much. I can’t stop thinking about that Saturday night.”

  I won’t give in so easily. “We will meet only if you come to the board meeting this afternoon.”

  “I can’t. I have a doctor’s appointment at twelve.”

  “You can still make it to the meeting. Come on. Valerie succeeded in turning everyone against me about the country club. I need someone solid who’ll speak up for me.”

  “You don’t need anyone’s approval for that. As the owner of the firm, you can just go ahead and sign up for the bidding.”

  Finally someone is vocalizing my thoughts. “Still. I don’t want to look like a dictator, doing what I want without listening to my employee’s advice. And, I don’t want to try and convince them. That’s what you’re there for.”

  He inhaled a long, loud breath. “I may not make it.”

  “Look, if you come,” I covered my mouth with my hand and whispered to the phone, “I’ll have a little surprise for you tomorrow night. But, if you don’t—”

  “Really? Okay, I’m canceling the doctor’s appointment. But, if I have a serious illness you’ll have to suck it out.”

  ***

  Valerie comes to my office to pick me up for the board meeting. The dark circles under her eyes are clear signs of a sleepless night.

  “Has William called?” I ask with a low voice, as we walk down the corridor toward the conference room. She shakes her head as a reply.

  I stop to stare at her. “Have you called him?”

  Her eyes drop down the floor as she shrugs.

  “Come on. Haven’t we said that you’d wait until he called?” When she doesn’t respond I shoot another question, “When did you call?”

  “Today, in the morning. He didn’t answer me, anyway. So I left a short message to remind him to call me back.” She pulls the tablet in her hand up against her chest and hugs it with both arms.

  “Exactly what time was it?”

  “Eight.”

  “And you called him just once?”

  She shakes her head again. “I called him again at ten-thirty.”

  That’s gotta be a joke, right? Hasn’t she ever dated before to know the simple rules about the first dates? But, the frustration and the defeat on her face keep me from pouring out my criticizing thoughts to her. It’s two in the afternoon now. That the guy hasn’t called yet might mean a lot of things.

  “Promise me you won’t call him again. You don’t want to appear as a clingy, insecure wimp.”

  “I promise,” she yells with a loud sigh, when we arrive at the door of the conference room. I glance guiltily inside to locate Adam. He’s already facing the door and studying me up and down with his lustful eyes. I turn my gaze back to Valerie, because if I keep looking at Adam, my legs will stop supporting my body. Valerie jabs an elbow to my ribs and winks at me.

  Oh, shit! She really has a keen eye.

  I make it my mission not to look at Adam throughout the meeting, except for when he speaks, which happens more frequently that I’d have wished. At some point, he splays his right hand over the table toward me and begins drawing circles with his forefinger. He’s doing it on purpose, I have no doubt about it, to remind me the pleasure his fingers gave me. I find myself hyperventilating and on the verge of shuddering. What little concentration I’ve had vanishes as the circles of his forefinger come closer to my location. I pinch my palm under the table to re-focus my attention back to the conversation, though without success.

  As distracted as I am, Adam seems to be his usual self, confident and poised, his answers informative, convincing, and to the point. As if nothing had happened between us beyond the customary employer-employee relationship.

  When the meeting comes to an end, I stay seated, occupying myself with my tablet, waiting for everyone to leave. Adam walks toward the door, closes it when the last of the employees are out, and turns to me.

  “You didn’t actually need me. Tell me the real reason why you called me in.” He moves to my side and drums on the desk in front of me with his fingers.

  My breaths shorten by his close proximity, and my lips remain sealed.

  “Will you answer me?” he asks.

  “Let’s just focus on work when we’re here.” I look up to see his piercing eyes gazing at me with a frightening intensity, and I realize I won’t be able to stop him if he wants to claim me as his, right here on the very table Jack bought years ago. How stupid I was thinking that giving in to Adam for once would calm him down and get me out of his system, while helping rid me of my sexual numbness. Right now, I’d prefer the numbness than to have the entire company attesting to his seductive power on me.

  “Did you miss me?” he asks.

  “Well, I wondered why you didn’t call me after the dinner on Monday.” Have I just said that? Me, who recommended, no, commanded Valerie to stop appearing as a clingy, insecure wimp?

  A cheeky smile spreads across his lips. “You know I was in Las Vegas with clients. They had some wild fantasies to be fulfilled.”

  I don’t know why, but I always imaged his clients as rich men who didn’t have anything else to do but golf and invest their money in whatever profitable investment activity crossed their way. However, the business world is full of women, too. Young as well as old. As much as I trust Adam’s project management skills, his true success might be coming from seducing those rich women into doing business with him. Trying to yank away the stomach-churning thoughts of another woman wrapping her legs around Adam’s hips, I get up and start to the door.

  He catches my arm and hauls me toward him. “Want to hear some of those fantasies?” One minute, he’s composed and professional, the next he’s acting like a drunk.

 
I manage to free my hands and push against his chest. “You make me sick.”

  A flash of anger clouds his features, and his eyes burn like hot wax. His arms encircle my waist and he forces a leg between mine, pressing his thigh against my sex. “I make you sick? I thought you didn’t give a fucking shit about me. You don’t even care to look at me.”

  I inhale his scent to detect alcohol, but the smell of the aftershave mixed with the musky scent of his skin hits my nostrils like a blow, sending me back to Saturday night. Where he had me breaking apart wildly in his lap. “I just don’t want others… to know about us.” My voice cracks with the sudden rawness between my thighs caused by the friction of his leg swaying back and forth aggressively.

  It isn’t long before the tension in my groin builds to an unbearable level. I’ll either squeeze my legs around his to reach climax with the obvious consequence of embarrassing myself in front of him one more time, or do the impossible and free myself from his iron grip. Yet again, I have neither the strength nor the will to stop him, although any moment, someone might come and witness one of the lowest scenes of my life.

  Burying my head against his chest, I squeeze his leg with my thighs and start rubbing on it harder. Sweat forms on my forehead, my hands tightly holding onto his shoulder as support. In a split second, a dizzying wave of contractions sets off inside me, taking over my body and making me moan like a beast.

  “Jesus, baby, have you just come?” I hear him smirk. I deserve it. How could I lose myself so easily and quickly? After three years of no sexual desire, I’ve turned into a sex-crazed maniac.

  He loosens his grip around my waist but keeps rubbing his leg. When the waves of contraction end, I pull myself away from him.

  He looks at me wide-eyed. “Can’t wait to be inside you.”

  I sink into a chair to catch my breath, wipe the sweat off my forehead with my hand, and lift my head to glance at him. “You expect me to keep myself for you, while you brag about your sexual conquests with your clients? Forget about being inside me, this was the last time you get to touch me.”

  He settles in the chair across me, his hand reaching for mine. “I was just kidding. I’m a professional. I don’t fuck around with my clients.”

  “Why didn’t you call me or at least send me a text.” I have to give it to Valerie. It’s not easy to hold back and act the unapproachable once you give yourself to someone.

  “I had to stay at the hospital. My scar got infected, and I had high fever for two days.”

  “What the hell?” I shout, hoping my voice will convey all my anger. “Why didn’t you call me?” I repeat. Here I was wondering who he was with, while he was suffering because of the bullet that had been aimed at me.

  He shrugs. “I didn’t want you getting worried about me.”

  “Worried? Now I’ll always worry about your health. Please, don’t keep such information from me. I might not show it, but I care about you. I really do.” I look down at my hands. “You’re Jack’s best friend, and you saved my life.” And, I really felt for you when I saw you back then crying over a woman who might or might not be me.

  “I’m all right now.” He leans forward to grab my hand again. This time, I let him and watch as he brushes his lips on my knuckles. His eyes are softer now and lingering on my lips. “The doctors would object to your visits, anyway, if they knew you’re the reason for my constant hard-on.”

  I roll my eyes and chuckle, trying to repress an unwanted shiver at the thought of him sitting there right across me with a hard-on. “I might know a cure for your constant hard-on.”

  “I have no doubt about that.” An amused expression lightens his face, and he lowers his eyes to my breasts and back up to my lips.

  I squeeze his hand before standing up. “Are you gonna be in town tomorrow?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wait for my call.” I open the door and glance at him. “And please, if you get sick again, I’d like to know about it.”

  CHAPTER 12 - ADAM

  All Saturday morning, I’ve been waiting impatiently for Taylor’s call. Just the thought that I’ll have her in a few hours is enough to send flames raging through my body, and only Taylor’s juices can extinguish them.

  Yet, it’s three p.m. now and still no sign from Taylor. Either I’ll stay at home and jerk off the rest of the afternoon, or go out to distract myself. I choose the latter and drive to Whole Foods for the weekly grocery shopping. I don’t want to have the fridge empty, and I can even cook some nice dinner in case Taylor wants to spend the night at my place. Not very likely, but who knows?

  I go through the flowers section, trying to guess the flowers she likes. There’re so many options that I end up spending half an hour just picking out a bouquet of pink roses. Then, I went ahead to buy wine, chicken, rice noodles, some vegetables, and fruits. While waiting for the butcher to prepare my order, I spot a woman who looks very much like Valerie. Tall, slim figure with red hair loosely tied in a messy bun, but no glasses. I push my cart toward her and wave my hand at her when she looks at my direction.

  “Hey, there. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  Her red eyes grow wide with surprise, then flicker back to the box of tea she’s holding in her hand. “Hi.”

  “Are you all right? You look sick.” I study her pale face and dark bags under her eyes. Her eyes? Her eyes are brown and not green. I can’t be that stupid to have confused brown with green, can I?

  “I’m fine. But, thanks for commenting on my sick look.” She shakes her head with an annoyed expression on her face and picks up another box of tea.

  “I didn’t mean—Sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Unless you have an extra space in your bed, there is nothing you can do for me.”

  Extra space in my bed? My eyes are fooling me and now my ears, too? She can’t possibly mean that, can she? Shit, how am I supposed to respond to that?

  She shoots me a curious glance and grabs her shopping cart. “Yeah, I thought so,” she says and disappears into another aisle. I stand there, baffled and dismayed, and watch the empty aisle. I may not share my bed with her, but I could listen to her problems as a friend.

  The rest of the grocery shopping passes with me speculating over Valerie’s problem, and back at the parking lot, I decide it must have to do with a guy. I’ve had my fair share of listening to my sisters’ blabber about men; I could easily be a shoulder to cry for Valerie, too. But, not with that hostile attitude of hers.

  At home, I unload the groceries into the fridge and head to the bathroom for a quick shower. As I step out of the bathroom, I hear the phone buzz. My pulse shoots up with a burst of anxiety. A part of me is afraid that Taylor will call it off at the last minute. But, her text proves just the opposite. She sent me the address of the bar she wants to meet at in half an hour and put a capital O at the end of the text.

  O as in oral sex? Oh, yes, please!

  The image of her full lips curving into an O when she was unzipping my pants flashes through my mind, instantly bringing my cock back to life.

  I can’t jerk off now, although it’d help me focus on talking with Taylor rather than focusing on her body. Still, I can’t help but wish to have her here right at this moment, without any clothes or games, her legs spread widely on my bed, waiting for me to make her scream like hell…

  With pleasure, I’d take my revenge for making me go through her ups and downs.

  I hurry to the bedroom and put on a blue shirt and navy jeans. Before leaving my condo, I spray Chaps by Ralph Lauren over my throat and groin. Every time I go out using this cologne, I get strange stares from women, as if they’d be ready to do whatever I might propose. Hope it’ll work on Taylor, because I don’t know how long I can keep my erection under control. Even so, I admit I enjoyed immensely her little nursie thing last time. I wish she’d have let me sleep with her in the same bed so I could have had her at least one more time.

  I get only green lights during the ride to
the bar. It sure is gonna be my night. Parking my car at the parking lot, I hasten inside the bar and scan the tables. At eight o’clock, only a couple of tables are occupied, and she is nowhere to be seen, although she told me to be here exactly at eight.

  I proceed toward the bar and spot a red-haired hottie with a dangerously mini dress. If my heart hadn’t belonged to Taylor, I wouldn’t have hesitated to make a move on her, but tonight she’s just a cheap hot dog compared to the tender and juicy bone-in rib eye steak I’m about eat.

  I pick the chair farthest from the red-head and order a whiskey on the rocks, while keeping my eyes on the door. About two minutes into sipping my drink, six men try and approach the reddie, all ending up turned down. Why did she come here, dressed like that, and decline every interested man?

  I wonder if I’d have a chance with her. Apparently yes, because she gets up from her chair and walks slowly toward me, the clack of her high heels echoing across the room. Taylor will surely freak out if she sees her near me, given the fuss she made over a silly joke about Bree’s boobs.

  I grab my glass and prepare to leave my chair, when I hear her speak, “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Taylor?” I turn sharply and give her a once-over. The red-haired woman is Taylor with a wig. Now that I can take my time to study her, without worrying about making someone jealous, I drink in the black mini-dress and what it’s not covering.

  Short, red hair with her sparkling, blue eyes and that black dress. I can hardly resist the growing urge to pull her onto my lap and show her how hard she makes my cock simply by showing up.

  “I don’t know any Taylor.” She sits on the stool next to me; her arm brushes mine. “Won’t you buy me a drink?”

  I signal the bartender for another whiskey.

  “Make it a Martini,” she says, so I change the order.

  “I’m Jolette.” She extends a hand to shake. I notice her long, red nails and picture them scratching my back all the way down to my butt while my cock gives her the pleasure of her life.