A small nervous laugh escapes me as I recall his last words. They made me feel good—desirable, even. “Wow,” I pant out. “I think I’m in shock.”
Tony pulls back and kisses my nose. “Can we order in dinner and then go for round two?” He leans down and kisses me with a tenderness I’ve never had from a man. “I’m not ready for the night to be over just yet.”
The bedside clock reveals it’s not even a quarter after six. “Yeah, I could go for some food, too.”
The hours we spent wrapped in each other’s embrace last night will be engraved in my mind forever. It was difficult getting Tony to finally leave for his own bed, and a part of me almost succumbed to his pleas to remain. I’ve never had a man react to me like that before. What it does to a woman’s self-esteem…freakin’ incredible.
I swear, if someone had told me being a bossy bitch would score me love, I’d have done it ages ago. Whoa there…who mentioned love? Where the hell did that thought come from? Could I be falling for a man I met a week ago? How the hell could we know each other well enough for love to come into the equation?
Oh, you don’t know him well enough to love him, but screwing him for hours is fine?
There are times, like this, I wish my parents hadn’t raised me to be logical and fair. The truth I’m unwilling to face stares back at me while I brush my teeth in the morning. I’m starting to really fall for Tony.
Does he feel the same or am I simply a new infatuation? He seems like an intense guy. I’m betting he’s been in more serious sexual relationships than I have. Do I care?
There are parts of myself I’m not comfortable admitting exist…like jealousy. Interestingly enough, I don’t feel jealous toward those other women. No matter what they knew or what they did—he’s not with them anymore—he’s with me.
Yeah, for now. But can you keep him?
A niggling thought deep in my brain surfaces—it’s not about keeping someone. It’s about joining with them. Deciding you’d like to walk the path of life together with them by your side.
I dress for the day, reaching for the new black boots in my closet. Tony made me promise we’d meet after work today, that I’d keep my agreement of a dinner date. I think wearing these boots will be a nice surprise for him later.
Maybe I’ll take a picture and send it to him again. Last night over Chinese food, he admitted to the red high heel picture being the sexiest thing he’d ever received while working, and that it made him hot for me all afternoon.
I zip up the second boot and stand, smoothing the flowing print skirt down my hips. The material flares below the knee, hiding the leather hugging my lower thigh. My black silk blouse ties in nicely with the boots, and today’s overcast weather means I can almost pull off wearing boots this late in the season. I take a glance in the mirror, pleased with what I see, not caring if my choice is slightly out of fashion.
I grab my favorite clunky purse and dash out the door. The quiet ride down the elevator doesn’t race my heart like yesterday. Today, it gives me more time to think about Tony than I’d like. Last night after our mad dash to my place and subsequent ravishing, we were very relaxed in each other’s company.
I was my normal self. Well, that’s not quite true. I felt more at ease than ever, but the resulting persona was more of a mish-mash between the old me and the new me…and she was a person I liked a lot.
Tony noticed my framed pictures and asked about them. He seemed genuinely impressed when I told him I took all the shots myself. The architecture ones intrigued him the most and reminded him of his apartment building. Said he likes to work on it over the weekends. Seems like all the man does is work.
A blush heats my skin as I recall last night. He wasn’t on the clock then, that’s for sure.
The elevator opens and my doorman, George, hails me with a wave. “Hello, Ms. Pierce.” George lifts a food bag from his podium. “This was left for you by a polite man this morning. He left a note, too.”
Shock jars me as I reach for the bag and note. I give my thanks and walk down the street before opening the envelope.
To keep your strength up for later… oh, the things I hope to do with you…
I’ll be thinking of you all day.
~Tony
I peek into the bag and see a foil-wrapped breakfast sandwich underneath a smaller, clear, plastic container with strawberries inside. A warm flush spreads across my face as I make my way through the morning crowd. I’ve never had a man leave me breakfast in a bag with my doorman before.
The contented feeling from last night’s activities wraps around my heart and stays with me all morning. I eat the egg sandwich Tony left for me while sitting at my desk, sipping coffee. I should text him to relay I enjoyed his gift and thank him, but I need to calm down a bit first, so I don’t sound like a gushing fool.
I look over my agenda for the day. The big meeting with a possible investor has been bumped to four this afternoon. Damn, I hope it won’t mess up my dinner plans with Tony.
I fire off an email to Harvey, reminding him of the new meeting time, then cancel his lunch plans. I know he keeps a bottle of vodka in his office and has a few drinks when he doesn’t go out to lunch. But he’s at least able to work after a few, unlike after those five-martini lunches. Hopefully, he will lay light on his mid-day cocktails today.
Oy. If I can just get him to hang on for a few more months, he can retire and hopefully get some professional help. His wife died last year, and what he really needs is a full-time program to dry out. If he leaves the job now, he could lose everything he’s invested here, despite all the regulations in place to protect people recovering from addiction. Who am I kidding? He may not go for help when he retires anyway. Just my wishful thinking.
Once I finish clearing his luncheon meeting, I grab my cell from my purse.
Thank you for breakfast and the note. I hesitate over the keys. Should I mention anything about last night?
I had a great time last night, and I’m looking forward to dinner.
I hit send and purposely put the phone in a drawer. I need all my brain cells firing for today’s meeting. The recent decrease in funds from lost accounts has really crippled the firm. Harvey hasn’t listened when I’ve tried to go over figures with him, and our line of credit has been consequently put on hold. The influx of cash from an investor may be just what we need until the sales department can hire new talent and bring in more business.
A loud ping sounds from my desk drawer. Tension and excitement tighten my muscles, urging me to dive for the rectangular bit of plastic and read Tony’s response. I deliberately drag out looking, making sure I clear my inbox and double check data in a spreadsheet for Harvey’s review. I squirm on the leather chair, every part of me calling out to grab the phone.
With shaking hands, I pull open the drawer, the tips of my fingers trembling in eagerness. I slide up the screen lock to view the latest message.
Last night was incredible. You’re all I can think about.
Fire burns through me, igniting every inch of flesh with the warmth of discovery. The insecure girl in me wants to squeal with delight at his words. The new inner-diva wants to tweak his interest a little more, see if I can get him stirred up at work.
A wicked grin spreads across my face as I type back to my new lover, Are you thinking about anything in particular?
I stare at the tiny screen, hoping he takes the bait and writes back something sexy.
I loved peeling off your bra after dinner…
Moisture gathers down low when I recall him licking and sucking my nipples last night. Damn, that man has a fine tongue. He didn’t seem to mind my smaller than average cup size. Kept palming and squeezing my flesh every chance he could.
Wanting him to keep texting, but unsure how much I should say, I type, I enjoyed that part, too…Very much.
LOL. The moaning and requests to keep going were a dead giveaway.
I blush, appalled in the light of day over my wanton behavior. But it
felt so damn good, making love on my couch and then again in the bedroom. I wouldn’t trade last night for anything in the world.
What can I say? I type back. You bring out the worst in me…
Worst? If that’s bad then I hope you’re never good. ;-)
I laugh, forgetting my office door is open and draw Harvey’s attention as he walks by. “My, aren’t you in a good mood today?” he says with an indulgent look on his face.
“Yeah,” I smile back. “I guess, I am.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “Hot date?” At the horrified look of embarrassment he probably sees on my face, he rushes on, “I tell you all the time you work too much. I just want to see you happy, Heather. You’re an incredible young woman.”
“Thanks, Harvey. Do you have time to go over the reports we’ll need for today?”
He nods and I gather my folders, standing to follow him down the hall to his larger office. “I’ll be right in,” I call out, remembering to text Tony at the last second.
Heading into meeting, will text later.
The rest of the morning stretches past noon, with me spending far too long trying to explain our financial position and recent investments to Harvey. I’ve already been slotted to attend the meeting at Apollo later today, but I sincerely hope enough of the newest data sinks in so I won’t have to jump in and speak.
Public speaking is not my thing. I’d rather not have the spotlight on me around all these corporate honchos if I can help it.
I don’t leave for lunch until after one. A sporting goods store catches my eye as I head back to the office and I make a quick detour inside. The sexy black boots turned a lot of heads at the deli, and in here, surrounded by manly sports equipment, they work more magic.
A big, buff sales guy approaches me when I’m barely ten feet inside the store. I smile and ask for directions to the yoga clothes, eager to try some flexible stretching and toning moves. My sore muscles this morning drove home that I really need to become more limber if I’m going to keep up with Tony.
I select some basic black pants and a snug top, and mentally remind myself to text Carla and see if I could join her yoga class. I’d hate to go by myself, and maybe it would help us reconnect. She’s been traveling this week and I’m dying to tell her what’s been happening between Tony and me, but I’m worried she may react poorly like she did before.
A pair of silky, black sports underwear for men catches my eye. A tingle zings through me as I picture the material hugging every muscular plane of Tony’s thighs and hips. I wonder if he’d wear them if I asked. Maybe he would if I told him to. My God, he’s delicious.
Impulsively, I snag the underwear. Maybe I’ll send them to him. Wouldn’t that be sexy? Geez, I don’t even know where he lives. We’ll have to change that tonight.
I pause when my phone rings. Maybe I’ll insist on going to his place. I dig my phone out and feel a warmth when I see it’s Tony.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s me.” He’s breathing hard, like he’s in a rush.
“Uh-huh. I know. What’s up?” My heart plummets to my toes. “You’re not cancelling tonight are you?”
A masculine chuckle pants over the phone. “Not on your life. That would be bad.” A teasing note sounds in his voice. “And who knows what you’d do to me if I was bad.”
I glance around to make sure I’m not easily overheard. “You sound almost hopeful, Tony…” I make my voice deep and try for sultry. “Were you hoping for a spanking?”
A swift intake of breath sounds from the end of the line. “I might be.” The distinct sound of a zipper rasps in the background. “Woman, what you do to me.”
A wave of desire whisks through me and sets my crotch ablaze. Could he be jerking off in his office while he talks to me? I franticly look around, desperate to make sure no one can hear me. “Are you undoing your pants, Tony?”
He pauses, then his voice comes out rough with desire. “No, I was zipping my gym bag. But I like where you’re going with this.”
I laugh, awkward and unsure what to say next. Damn, I hope I didn’t make an idiot of myself.
“Although, I’m happy to follow through with your wishful thinking, if you’d like….” His voice rises at the end, a hopeful note showing his eagerness. “Are we going to get creative during the workday?”
“No!” My face heats again. “I’m not in my office. I’m out.”
“I like your implication much better, Heather. Let me know when you want me to be risqué.”
Feeling playful and off balance with the turn this conversation has taken, I say, “You are a bit of a bad boy all on your own, aren’t you?”
His voice rasps across the line soft and deep, “Only with you.”
I like the sound of that. I like it a lot, actually. But as I stand here in the middle of a sporting goods store, there is not much I can do with this sexy man who is eager for me to tell him what to do. “Good to know,” I say, my voice a little brusque. “Did you call to stir up some naughty visions or is there a reason?”
Humor lights his tone when he responds, “I wanted to confirm for seven tonight at La Cucina.”
“Not working late?” I can’t hold back the teasing in my voice. Is this the same man who barely had time to fit me in for a late night dinner yesterday?
“No, something better came up.”
“Hmm…that’s also good to know.” Without thinking, I hang the yoga clothes on a rack and impulsively walk toward a ping-pong table on display. “I’m good with the restaurant and time. Want me to meet you there?”
“Or I can pick you up?”
“Don’t go to the trouble. I’ll meet you.”
“I’m sensing you’re trying to get me off the phone.”
I pick up a short handled paddle, the red and blue rubber sides made for controlling the spin on a tiny, plastic ping-pong ball. “Not at all.” I smack my thigh lightly with the paddle, testing it. A muffled clap greets me. “I’m on my way back to work.”
“Okay, I’ll see you tonight. Come hungry, Heather. I will be.”
We end our call, and I saunter to the checkout to pay for my new paddle and the underwear. I slip both into my large purse, eager to show Tony the paddle the next time he drops a hint he’d like to know what I’d do if he were “bad.” I leave the establishment with a jaunty step to my walk. Being involved with him is turning out to be way more fun than I bargained.
The rest of my afternoon is spent preparing for the four o’clock meeting. Around three-forty-five Harvey and I, with four others from Parkerson, take the elevator up to the Apollo offices on the fortieth floor. Their organization isn’t based here in NYC, but seeing their large footprint covering multiple floors in one of the world’s highest rent districts is very impressive.
The reception area has a distinct Mediterranean feel—coastal colors with bright patches of Greek and Italian landscapes on the walls. It would almost look cheesy if it weren’t for the obvious quality of the furniture and decor. A woman in her late-thirties introduces herself as Deidra and asks us to accompany her down the hall to the conference room. Once through the double doors, she motions to the coffee cart against one wall and instructs us to help ourselves.
I wait for the men to serve themselves first, damned if I’m going to start playing waitress to these men any time soon, then pour myself a cup.
I turn to join Harvey at the table when the team from Apollo filters in. I make my way to my seat as one of their executives breaks into a coughing fit. I place my coffee on the table and look up to see if the gentleman is okay or if someone should call for a glass of water.
Tony’s flushed face greets me from the top of the boardroom table. His light eyes hold shock, his handsome features work to regain composure, and his shoulders shudder from the pounding on the back he’s receiving.
“Are you okay, Tony?” the man to his left asks.
I freeze, every muscle in my face and body poised in the age old flight or fight response. Wh
at the hell is he doing here?
A glance to his left reveals his buddy Marcus from the speed dating event, with a sly grin on his cool visage. What the hell am I supposed to do?
I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
Chapter Ten
Tony
Holy shit. I can’t believe I didn’t find out her position at Parkerson. The look of betrayal crossing her face scares me. How the hell am I going to fix this mess? She’s sitting between Harvey and a man in a suit I haven’t met before.
To think she works for that alcoholic weasel makes me burn. I hope she hasn’t let the doddering fool handle any of her personal finances. How he’s kept their firm afloat for the past decade is anyone’s guess.
Heather’s silence at seeing me leaves me floundering. Do I acknowledge that I know her in front of the group? Judging by the smug look of satisfaction on Marcus’s face, I’m guessing he has recalled her from last week’s night out. Good thing I don’t kiss and tell or that rat bastard would be reaming me out after the meeting.
Introductions go around the room and Heather gives me a subtle tilt of her chin in greeting. Oddly enough, when the men all shake hands she refrains and stays seated. I can’t tell if she’s flustered or annoyed. Perhaps she has a more secretarial role in the company and doesn’t want to make any waves by presenting herself as an equal with a handshake? Either way, it doesn’t bode well for the bomb I’m about to drop.
We review the financial statements Parkerson brought. Everything looks as we suspected. They need funds and if they don’t get them soon, the company will fold. With a nod from me, Marcus hands out the portfolios he’s prepared.
“Gentlemen, and ladies,” I begin, remembering to include Deidra sitting in the back taking minute notes. “We’re not here to invest in Parkerson, but to strategically buy out a failing company that won’t be able to make payroll in two months.”
A shocked expression crosses Heather’s face, while a look of confusion settles on Harvey’s. “But wait, at lunch the other day, you talked about expansion and what we could do with your money backing us.”
Vanilla On Top Page 9