by ZN Willett
The return flight back to LA seemed longer than the outbound one. It could also have been that I was so pent-up that my vajayjay was about to combust with need—or actually more like combust hatred toward me. Getting it all worked up last night to shut it down wasn’t an easy feat. It helped to release my frustrations by throwing the pillows around my suite and taking a cold shower, though the constant pulsating between my legs hadn’t disappeared.
The moment I saw Christopher didn’t help matters either. I wanted the ass more than ever. I hadn’t gotten much sleep and I wasn’t getting any work done on the flight back. After hearing the Boards news and Christopher being . . . a nicer version of himself, was too much.
We barely spoke for the remainder of the flight. Christopher and I both had conference calls and other projects that we were both working on, but I couldn’t help notice the fact that we would occasionally look at the other.
Beth was around when we needed something. She had a sixth sense at anticipating our needs, and was great at her job. The thought of her and Christopher being together in a sexual way had crossed my mind, but then it pissed me off, so I tamped down that train of thought pronto.
When we arrived back in LA, Christopher and I said our goodbyes, and he took off for New York.
The moment I stepped into the office, my dad was there to meet me. After listening to him drone on about the Boards decision and the company, I had a migraine. I left more tired than I had arrived and was beginning to feel the effect of jet lag. I went home, took a long shower, and went straight to bed.
The next day, I caught up on paperwork and thought about Christopher’s offer to attend the party. I hadn’t heard from him, and knowing he was as busy as me, I still wasn’t ready to admit that there was a tiny piece of me that missed his daily interruptions.
Since that night in the elevator things seemed to have changed between us. It wasn’t as if I had bruised Christopher’s ego, however our dynamic was different. He seemed . . . normal. It was as if we were colleagues who had never had that one night of incredible sexual pleasure in the supply closet. I couldn’t have been more pleased with the change, yet. . . .
It was Friday at the end of the day, and I was still debating whether to attend the Colbys party or not. I knew I should go, and that everyone would be there—including Christopher—but I was still fuming about the Board’s decision. I have had to endure a lot of nonsense throughout my career, and it seemed like it didn’t matter that I worked harder, and pulled longer hours, it was never enough for them. I thought about what Christopher had said, although I felt that I shouldn’t have to continually prove my worth to them.
I sat fuming to myself, until I saw Guy walk in. “Am I interrupting?” he asked.
“Never, sit down.”
“I was in the office going over the architect’s plans and thought I would see if you were still interested in going out tomorrow night?”
Guy’s company performs our construction and renovations. We met when we were remodeling my office. He had taken a personal interest in the project, and I found out why when he asked me out after its completion.
Suddenly, the instant message bubble popped up on my screen.
What are you wearing? Colby/Christopher
Why did that make me smile?
“Uhm . . . Guy, can you hold on for a moment. I need to respond to something that came up.”
A parka . . . and you? Cordell/Quinn
A parka with nothing on under it, I hope. Would you like to see what I have on? Colby/Christopher
My heart sped up.
“That must be some email.” Guy chuckled.
My eyes flickered back up at him. “Why would you say that?”
“By the expression on your face, and you’re turning red.”
I have Guy in the office. Give me a minute. Cordell/Quinn
Did you tell him how it felt coming on my fingers? Colby/Christopher
I coughed out. “I’m sorry Guy, this is somewhat urgent. Can you give me a moment?”
What do you think, Colby! Cordell/Quinn
I think that every time he touches you, you wish it were my hands. Colby/Christopher
Think again! Cordell/Quinn
I can still taste you on my tongue. Colby/Christopher
I stared at the screen and felt my panties combust.
“Is that business or pleasure Quinn, because I’m feeling a bit jealous of that look on your face?”
I had forgotten that Guy was there. “It’s business, and why would you say that?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Something’s different about you lately. I was hoping it was me.”
“You always make me smile.”
Another bubble popped up with a photo. Christopher sent a picture of him posing at his desk.
Do you like my new suit? Colby/Christopher
If it matters, yes. Cordell/Quinn
“I may make you smile, but not like that,” Guy added.
I’m wearing it to the party. I would ask if you’re coming, but I think I know the answer to that. Colby/Christopher
I shook my head, and looked up at Guy. “It’s nothing.”
“Ah huh. So, have you thought any more about us?” he asked.
That got my full attention. “Honestly, nothing has changed. We work better as we are.”
He leaned in. “I’ll keep trying.”
Looking into his determined eyes I said, “I’m sure you will, although you are wasting your time.”
He leaned back. “I think you are worth the wait.”
The jet is waiting for you. Take off is at 7:00 p.m. Colby/Christopher
I reread the message as I slumped back into my seat holding up a finger to Guy to hold that thought.
I haven’t decided yet? Cordell/Quinn
Be on the plane, Quinn! Colby/Christopher
Now you’re ordering me? Cordell/Quinn
I’ll pick you up. Have a safe trip. Colby/Christopher
The bubble disappeared.
I sat eyeballing my computer screen for a moment longer then intended before I said, “Guy, about dinner tomorrow, I need to go to New York for a business event. Could I have a rain check?” I faked a smile, feeling guilty that I was going to ditch him at the last-minute for the demon.
He leered at me with raised brows before saying, “I know how it is when business calls. Why don’t I call you sometime next week and we can have lunch?”
“Lunch would be great.” I stood and escorted him to the door.
Guy stopped when we reached Mia’s desk and circled around. “I’m not a man who gives up easily.”
“I am truly flattered, but that night . . . well, we were both drunk and I was dealing with my dad’s heart attack . . . I am truly so—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. And the next morning you weren’t drunk.”
He had a point.
“I may not have been drunk, but I was hung over. Look, I don’t want to hurt you . . .”
He sighed. “Say no more. In time, you will see.”
“I do want to be friends.”
He leaned in and gently kissed me on my lips. I didn’t return it. “Till next week.”
“Bye, Guy.”
He walked past Mia as she exited the copy room. She waited until he was out of earshot to say, “I thought you two weren’t an item.”
“He’s not taking no for an answer.”
She chuckled. “That is two then, Christopher Colby called asking if you had left the office yet.”
I looked over at the clock and it was now a quarter to five. It would be after 7:00 p.m. by the time I could get home, pack, and to the airport.
“Thanks, I’m done for the night. Why don’t you head out? See you on Monday.”
I sat back down at my desk and stared at the computer screen. I thought about what Guy had said. What bothered me the most was that I was more concerned with what he saw on my face when I was IM’ing Christopher. I should have been agonizing over him want
ing more, although I couldn’t shake what he had said.
The longer I sat there, the more unsure I became about going to New York. If I was truthful with myself, it was all because of Colby. I went back to reading through my files until another bubble popped up.
Why are you procrastinating? Colby/Christopher
Do you have my office bugged? Cordell/Quinn
The plane is waiting. Colby/Christopher
You didn’t answer my question. Cordell/Quinn
No bugs. Colby/Christopher
Then, how? Cordell/Quinn
I’m starting to figure you out. Colby/Christopher
You will never do that. Cordell/Quinn
You underestimate me. The car is waiting. Colby/Christopher
What car? Cordell/Quinn
The one that is waiting to take you home and then to the plane. Colby/Christopher
Hurry up! Colby/Christopher
The bubble vanished.
Demanding much asshole? I thought. Then the biggest grin spread across my face. He was still an ass, but . . . gah! He was a sex-on-legs ass.
The flight felt longer than it was. It could have been the fact that my stomach turned the entire flight. When Beth opened up the plane door upon landing, Christopher stood waiting outside a car. He looked incredible—as always.
“I’m here, Colby. Happy?”
He smirked and said, “Very, and so are you. You look great, by the way.”
I narrowed my eyes before saying, “Thank you.”
“You missed me.”
“Why would you say that?”
“You got on the plane.”
“I didn’t have anything planned.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
He leaned in as if he was going to kiss me, and I pulled back. He chuckled before placing a kiss on my cheek, searing the spot his lips had touched.
Christopher grabbed my carry-on bag and threw it into the small trunk. “Nice car.” It was a sleek silver two-door sports car, and by the look of it, a foreign model of some kind.
“She’s my baby,” he stated.
“I bet she is.”
He opened up the door and I sat on the smooth cream colored leather that smelled new. The car was immaculate.
“A new purchase?” I asked.
He climbed in and stated, “She’s five years old.”
The interior looked well maintained even in the overhead lighting. “You don’t drive her much?”
He turned on the car looking at me questionably. “I drive her all the time,” he said as he put on his shades.
The man looked like a Greek sex God sitting there. “You do know it’s nighttime.”
Christopher grinned before peeling out of the tarmac.
“Where are we going?” I held tightly to the seat.
“To my house.”
That alarmed me. “I planned to stay at the hotel. I needed to do a pop up visit—”
“You’re staying at the big house.”
“You’re taking me to jail?”
He laughed. “My family’s estate, upstate.”
“Christopher, really I can—”
“Joseph is already there. My mother has made all the arrangements. You will be our guest for the weekend.”
“You know I’m starting to think coming was a bad idea.”
Christopher placed that smirk on his face as we sped through the night.
The Colbys were worth forty billion in total. Estate was the correct term to use for the multi-million dollar home that we pulled up to. After passing the guard-house and driving down the immaculately landscaped lawn, we circled to a home that could be a residence for queens and kings. In my field of work, I’ve seen my share of extravagances and very little still amazed me when it came to the rich and famous—except for the Colbys.
Christopher collected my carry-on and placed his hand on the small of my back as we walked to the front door. He rang the doorbell and used his key to open it. As soon as we stepped into the grand foyer, a tall older gentleman in a black suit approached Christopher. “Mr. Colby.”
“Quinn, this is Graham.”
“Ms. Cordell, I am pleased to meet you and if you need anything during your stay, feel free to ring me.”
“Graham manages the household staff.” Christopher added, “I left the trunk open.”
“I will have the bags brought up immediately, sir.”
“Thank you. I’m going to show Quinn to her room. Have Hanna send something to the study please.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Quinn.” Christopher directed me up the long staircase and down the equally long corridor to what would be my room for the weekend.
The entire house was drenched in rich fabrics and tapestry, and the guest room was decorated the same. Christopher placed my bag on the ottoman at the end of the bed. “I’m down the hall, second door to the right, if you need anything.”
I smiled. “I think I’ll be fine.”
“After you get settled in, I’ll take you on a tour of the house and we can have a light snack.”
I nodded and Christopher left me alone to my thoughts, and they went wild.
What was I doing here?
It didn’t matter that Joseph had come. It was a normal thing for him to attend events without me.
The moment Christopher Colby had stepped into my life, my entire sense of reason had been thrown out the window and crapped on. I needed to gain control. I was not going to let Christopher Colby’s good looks and magic fingers be the reason to weasel his way into my pants—not that he has tried since Tokyo.
What the hell was I thinking?
Why would I want him to try? I said I didn’t want him, so I didn’t want him.
Keep telling yourself that, Quinn.
Damn!
Christopher had spent the last hour showing me around the massive home as well as the lighted grounds. They had the typical necessities that one with their status would have such as a pool with a pool house, etc., though the stable was a bit of a surprise. Until Christopher said that it had been built for Reagan’s pets. She had five prize-winning stallions. There was also a pond on the grounds with a cabin, and a separate fenced in doggy suite for their three dogs. This didn’t include Reagan’s Toy Pomeranian that had her own bedroom inside the main residence.
Christopher had mentioned a snack; however his family must have considered a snack very differently from that of normal people. “I was expecting cheese, fruit, and maybe a few crackers . . . a sandwich perhaps, but not a buffet,” I stated, surprised.
The buffet or “snack” as Christopher had put it, consisted of a carved ham, assorted bread and cheeses, a fruit plate, crudités, mixed nuts and chips, along with an assortment of desserts. Christopher and I grabbed our plates and I sat in a high back leather chair while he spread himself out on the couch.
“Do you want to watch anything in particular—oh wait, you don’t watch TV.” He chuckled.
“I don’t have time, again being busy running a company and all.”
He turned on the flat screen hanging over the fireplace and started flipping through the channels, stopping at some crime show. We watched while we ate and the show was surprisingly interesting. By the end, I was the one spread out on the couch, eating the most delicious raspberry chocolate tart. Christopher now sat on the floor next to me leaning against the couch. “I have to find out where you get these.”
He shifted toward me. “I’ll ask Marge our cook; I believe she makes everything herself.”
I shook my head as I bit into a rose flavored macaroon.
“What?” he asked.
“How many people live here?”
“It depends on the season. Right now, both my parents and Reagan are here, although Reagan has a place in the city as do I.”
“So that’s a total of two people?”
“Why?”
“All of this for only two people? I assume there is more staff.”
He cocked
his head before asking, “Why does it matter? If I came to your family home, I am sure I would find only your father along with three . . .”
I shook my head.
“Two?”
“One. Helga. She’s his cook and housekeeper.”
He seemed surprised. “Well, your father is a very frugal man.”
“He is like that because of my Mother.”
“She sounded like a wise woman.”
I fixed on his green eyes and they seemed sincere. “She was . . . and I miss her every day.”
“Maybe one day you’ll tell me about her.”
That was an odd thing to say for such a beastly man, though Christopher seemed to have many different sides to him. “Maybe.” I stood up. “It’s been a long day. I am going to head up to bed.”
He stood and said, “I’ll walk you to your room.”
“I know it’s a big house, nevertheless I remember the way. Stay, finish your show. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As I walked toward the door, he yelled out. “Sweet dreams.”
I turned around. “Thanks, Colby.”
Exhausted and mentally stressed I was ready for bed, but the thought of Christopher being a few doors down from me crossed my mind. More like crossed my vajayjay’s mind. She was about to burst and was in need of some attention—which I planned to do as soon as I finished getting ready for bed.
I walked down the long hallway and noticed that the doors all looked similar. They really needed numbers, I thought. A bit embarrassed, I struggled to find my bedroom door. I walked to the end, knowing it was one of three. As I pondered, a hand covered my throat and before I could scream, I heard, “Shhh. Quinn, it’s me.”
My body was relieved, yet my heart was still pounding through my chest. Christopher’s hand wrapped around my torso as the other released itself from my neck and wrapped across my chest. I could hear my heart beat pounding louder as he started to squeeze my breast while the other hand slid into my pants; pushing down my panties as his finger started to glide through my folds.
“Christopher!”
“Why do you fight this?”
“You know why! Is this why you wanted me here?”
“I want you all the time.” He breathed in my ear.
I stood there panting like a whore. We can’t do this. I can’t be with him.