by Roya Carmen
“And Boss Man is having all the locks in the building updated,” she goes on. “Did you know that?”
“I know… I saw the email.”
“He’s being very protective,” she points out. “Very mama bear. He must really care about you.”
I smile. I appreciate that he’s trying to protect me so fiercely. Short of killing Samuel, it’s the best he can do I suppose. I wonder if the security guard is permanent. I’ve never really had someone looking out for me before. Not since Donovan anyway. It feels nice.
“You like that story the best, don’t you?”
He nods his head enthusiastically. I flip the book shut, and stare at the cover, a very rudimentary drawing of a caterpillar with a red head. Its big green eyes stare back at me ominously. The Very Hungry Caterpillar.
Sometimes I imagine what life would be like if Donovan were still around. Would he be the one sitting next to Ethan now, reading him this book? He’d probably do all the voices. I’ve never really been good at that. I hate the fact that Ethan doesn’t have a father. He doesn’t realize it now, but when he grows older, he’ll know he’s different. Especially on Father’s Day when all the kids at school are making Father’s Day cards and he’s left out. I sigh at the thought.
“Booboo,” he says with a pout. I turn to see him pointing at the bandaged scar on my forehead.
“It’s okay. Mommy’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.”
I’m so glad he didn’t see the commotion with Samuel. It might have scarred him for life. He might have not remembered as he got older, but his subconscious would have surely been affected.
He grabs his soft elephant, one of the three stuffed animals Weston gave him. “Do you like that one the best?”
He nods and hugs the elephant.
“That was nice of Mr. Weston to give you that. Do you like Mr. Weston?”
He grins widely. “Sten!”
I laugh. “Yes, Sten! He’s pretty cool, right?”
He kisses the elephant’s trunk. So darn cute.
“We should give him a name,” I suggest. “What do you think?”
He raises a brow in thought, and in that moment, he looks so much like Donovan, it hurts.
“How about Dumbo?”
“Dumbo!” he cheers.
“Yes, his ears are kinda big,” I point out. “It’s perfect.”
He hugs Dumbo again.
“We’ll have to name your other stuffies too. I think they all deserve a name.”
“Dumbo!” he cheers once more.
It’s another lovely afternoon at the penthouse when I finally finish my pamphlet design. I can’t wait to show Weston. I usually try not to disturb him too often because I realize how busy he is. Rosetta has warned me more than once that Boss Man doesn’t like to be disturbed. And I’m sure the fact that I’m almost fucking him does not give me any special privileges.
I’m all smiles as I walk down the hall to his desk, holding my presentation boards. I’m as quiet as a mouse as I round the corner. I watch him silently for a long beat. He’s hunched over his desk as he looks over what appears to be architectural drawings. He scribbles a note, and I inch closer. I suddenly regret barging in like this. He looks very busy.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I can come back.”
He raises his gaze and smiles. “No, please don’t.”
I stay rooted to my spot.
“I haven’t seen you yet today.” He leans back in his chair. “Let me get a good look at you. You look very smart today.”
I stare down at my brown tweed skirt and slim fitting pink cashmere top. The pink round toe slingback kitten heels are Louboutins, my only pair of red bottoms. I got them pre-owned on eBay for two hundred dollars, my most expensive wardrobe item yet. But they were so me… I just couldn’t resist. Despite being a doctor’s wife, I’ve never been one to spend extravagantly. I was raised by a single mother and we never had much, so it’s just how I’ve always been.
He sits up straighter. “Come closer.”
I do, all the while smiling shyly, and wondering why he has this effect on me. Why do I act like this around him? Like a naughty little girl who’s about to get punished by the principal.
I inch closer and walk slowly around his desk. When I reach him, he bites his bottom lip. His eyes greedily take me in. They devour me in fact.
“That outfit is perfect. My little grasshopper knows just what I like.”
I smile. “I’ve been taking notes, Mr. Hanson.”
He grins playfully. “What do you have for me?”
I stare down at the drawings on his desk.“May I?”
“Yes, just put them right on top.”
I set the boards on his desk, over the architecture drawings. “I just finished the pamphlet with the copy Rosetta sent me,” I explain. “I’m pretty happy.”
He peruses the boards, studying them carefully. “Yes. As you should be. These look amazing, Gretchen.”
My breath hitches. I’m so happy he approves.
“Great work, Grasshopper.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
“Enough about work now… I respect your talent and professionalism more than you’ll ever know, but you can’t just walk into my office looking so delicious, and expect me to keep my hands off you. Turn around, sweetie.”
I smile and oblige, and just for fun, I stick out my bum and lift my foot. This is as flirty as I get. I’m not exactly well-seasoned in the art of seduction.
“Damn,” he growls.
I turn back, and he pulls me to him. “No, no, no,” he scoffs. And he pivots me back around again. “I can’t resist you in this skirt.”
He grabs the hem and pulls it up in one swift move, revealing my pink lace panties. I bite my lip, loving every second. I anticipate his next move eagerly.
He tugs at my hips and pulls me to him. I press my hands flat on the desk for support as he pulls my panties down. I close my eyes.
He slides a slow hand along my pussy, teasing me relentlessly, and I just don’t know if I can handle it today. I’m extremely turned on and tired of the games. I’m exhausted.
He slaps me once on one side, so hard, I jump a little. He’s quick to rub the sting though. “Sorry, Grasshopper. Your bum is just so delicious. I want to bite it. It’s taking all the strength I have not to.”
I laugh, and as if to punish me, he slaps me again, on my other cheek. Again, he rubs the skin better. I want him to do it again. Over and over. Who knew pain could feel so good?
He slides a hand along my pussy again. “God, you are driving me wild.”
He pushes me off him with a hard shove. I wobble on my heels, my legs shaking. “What the…”
He fires up his computer, and furiously types away. “We’re making an amendment right now,” he tells me. “I want to fuck you this instant, and fuck if a stupid agreement is going to stop me.”
“Uh…” I’m speechless. I’ve never heard him curse like this. He’s always so proper.
He bounces from his desk and dashes to the printer, which is already spewing out a sheet. The next ones follow quickly. Weston brings them to his desk, and hastily scribbles his signature. He shoves the last page in my direction. “Sign.”
I don’t think I’ve ever signed my name so fast. As soon as I’ve signed, he grabs me and bends me over the desk. The pen in my hand goes flying. He grabs my hips and pulls me flush against him. He falls to his knees and my bare ass is in his face. He licks and bites. Hard. He seems to have forgotten to go easy on me, but I fucking love it. Bruising, be damned. His mouth travels to my pussy, and he licks a slow line, all the way up, up to my ass.
God…
He pulls from me just when I’m about to faint from the pleasure. “I want to fuck you bare,” he whispers against my ear. “Is that okay?”
I’m on the pill now, and I know he’s clean. I want that too. “Yes…”
He slides his hard cock along my pussy and I grab the edges of the desk, readying myself for him. I haven’t had s
ex in almost three years. My last time was a hot humid night in Mexico, following dancing on the beach. It had been soft, slow and romantic. Nothing like this.
He sinks into me slowly, and I close my eyes, finally able to enjoy him in this way. He starts off slow, but as I moan and follow his rhythm, he goes at me faster, and when I get antsy, he goes at me harder, shoving me against his desk over and over again. I feel myself climb slowly, and every part of me is turned on, sensitive to his touch.
He groans as he pushes harder into me, so hard it hurts. It hurts but it releases the deepest parts of me as I escape in a series of waves of pleasure. He stills and presses his hot mouth against my shoulder as he comes to.
Sex has never been this good. Ever. Guilt washes over me. I shouldn’t be thinking that. How can I compare Weston to Donovan?
He slowly pulls from me, and I peel myself off his desk. A page of the agreement goes flying off, and we both laugh. The boards and drawings are all bent out of shape.
He toys with a lock of my hair. “That was amazing,” he says softly. “Wonderful.”
I smile up at him. “Yes, it definitely was.”
He kneels to the floor and retrieves my pink panties. “Come closer.”
I take a step in his direction, and lift a foot daintily. He wraps the flimsy fabric around my right heel and ankle, and then repeats the process with my left foot. He kisses my legs softly as he pulls the panties up and back over my rear. Finally, he plants a sweet kiss on my pussy.
He slides down my skirt, and smooths down the folds. “We can’t have you look all disheveled now, can we, Grasshopper? What will Rosetta think?”
I laugh as I attempt to smooth down my hair. “I’m pretty sure Rosetta already knows what we’re up to.”
He smiles. “I think you might be right.” He stands and slaps me once more on the ass for good measure. “Back to work, Grasshopper.”
I grab my boards and quickly scurry out, smiling all the way, until I reach Rosetta’s desk.
“Well, well, well,” she quips. “Boss Man was getting his Twinkie stinky again I see.”
I shake my head. I can’t take this anymore. “Rosetta, could you please knock it off? Yes, he was getting his Twinkie stinky,” I scoff. “I admit it… he was hiding the salami, sharpening the pencil, whatever you want to call it! Are you happy now?!”
She laughs heartily as I walk back to my work station and throw the boards on my desk. “Glad to entertain you so,” I scoff.
She’s still laughing as I attempt to dive back into my work. But it’s useless. The whole day’s shot. Yet, I still have a smile on my face.
33
I’m consumed with thoughts of Weston and I for the rest of the day. I’m on auto-pilot as I make Ethan and I dinner, as I give him his bath and read him his bedtime stories. Have I made a big mistake? It’s never a good idea to sleep with the boss. What did this mean to him? Am I just a good lay to him? Maybe he’s like this with all his employees. But he did say he hadn’t had sex in three years. But can I believe him? Will this change everything between us? Will this affect my job? Am I moving on too fast? Should I still be mourning Donovan? He was my true love, and I’ve so easily forgotten him. Am I falling too hard too fast?
I’m tossing and turning, still driving myself crazy hours later. The clock on my bedside table reads 1:25 AM. I decide to pop open a bottle of red wine. I don’t often drink, but red wine always relaxes me and helps me fall asleep. I hop out of bed, and go fetch myself a glass. When I return, I fire up my television and watch reruns of Modern Family on Netflix.
Before too long, I drift into slumber.
Abigail and I are seated on my sofa, enjoying our cups of tea. I’ve asked her to come early because I want it to be just the two of us for a bit, before Claudia and Mischa show up. It’s my turn to host. I do it once a month. I don’t mind it, but it’s always a tad stressful as I struggle to clean up and tidy before their arrival. Claudia says I shouldn’t bother, but I’m afraid Mischa would judge me if I didn’t. Her place is always spotless. She has a job and two teenage boys. I’m not sure how she does it all. Unfortunately, I’m no perfectionist.
“So you finally went all the way,” Abigail is saying. “I knew you would eventually. I mean, just look at the guy. How could you possibly resist?”
I laugh. “You don’t think I’m making a mistake?”
She shakes her head. “Hey, listen. Not many of us get to have that kind of passion in our lives. I say go for it.”
I stare down at my tea. “I’m just afraid I might get hurt,” I admit. “I’m pretty sure I’m just a fun distraction for him. He doesn’t take me seriously.”
“Maybe he does,” she argues. “How would you know?”
“I’m not the kind of woman men like him marry,” I point out. “He’s way out of my league.”
“What?” she scoffs. “No one’s out of your league. You’re beautiful and awesome.”
I smile. “Thank you, but what I’m trying to say is… he slaps me, bites my ass, throws me over his desk and fucks me. All that doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means you’re having a lot of fun,” she jokes. “I kinda wish Abe would slap me. Maybe I’ll ask him.”
I laugh.
She stares at my wrist. “He did you give you that beautiful bracelet, and the dress, bag and shoes.”
“The man is loaded… I’m sure that’s like pocket change to him. Doesn’t mean anything.”
“You’re being really pig-headed you know,” she scoffs. “Stop being so cynical. You remind me of Mischa right now.”
“Oh no.”
The doorbell buzzes, and I bounce off the sofa. “Speaking of the devil.”
I swing the door open and both Mischa and Claudia are standing there. Claudia has two tins of what I assume are cookies. Some are most likely regular ones, and some are her special recipe I’m sure.
I hug them both before they even have a chance to come in. “Oh my God, look at you,” Claudia says. “Poor girl.”
“I’m fine.” I take one of the tins, and am quick to pry it open. “Special and regular again?”
She grins playfully. “Yes, the shortbreads are safe. The chocolate chip are the fun ones.”
“Good to know.”
Mischa peels off her shoes. “I was so sorry to hear about what happened to you. You must have been terrified. I’m so glad he wasn’t able to… you know…”
“Yeah, I defended myself pretty well. Who knew I had that in me.”
“It doesn’t surprise me,” she says. “You’re a strong woman.”
I pull coffee mugs from the cabinet, a pretty pink and purple one for Mischa and a fun cat one for Claudia. Claudia has her usual, Chai tea. And Mischa opts for a coffee. I set the shortbread cookies on a tray. “I’m keeping the chocolate chip cookies on top of the fridge,” I tell them. “I can’t let Ethan get his little hands on them.”
“For sure,” Mischa chimes in. “I honestly don’t think it’s a great idea to bring those types of cookies around when there’s a small child around. If Claudia tried to pull this kind of thing at my place, I’d be kicking her out.”
Thankfully, Claudia is out of earshot, busy playing with Ethan on the floor, but Mischa makes an excellent point.
We all get comfortable on the sectional. Claudia and Abigail have helped themselves to chocolate chip cookies, and Mischa, Ethan, and I are enjoying the shortbreads.
“So what’s new with you?” I ask Mischa.
“The usual,” she says. “Busy with work. I hardly see the boys these days. They’re always locked up in their rooms. And Tristan and his girlfriend…” She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been hanging with Ava a lot lately. She’s such a sweet girl.”
“How’s Brian?” I ask.
Her face lights up. “Still busy brightening young minds.”
“How about you, Abby?” Claudia pipes in. “Any progress on Project Baby?”
She sighs audibly. “Not yet,” she says. “I’m no sprin
g chicken I guess.”
“It’ll happen,” I tell her. I know it will. I can feel it in my bones.
“Well, I’m sure you’re having fun trying,” Claudia gushes.
Abigail brightens up. “We definitely are.”
“How is the new beau?” I ask Claudia, my tone teasing. “Keeping you busy?”
“Hell yes,” she says. “We pretty much have sex every chance we get. And it’s amazing.”
I smile, brought back to Weston’s desk. I’ll never be able to look at that desk the same way again. I’ll never be able to look at my pink Louboutins without remembering him slipping my panties back on. God, I hope this doesn’t end badly, because if it does, I might never be able to wear those heels again.
“Speaking of boyfriends,” Claudia says. “I can’t believe Samuel turned out to be a crazy rapist.”
“Well, he was never my boyfriend,” I point out. “That was the problem. He wanted to be.”
“So… Mr. Dark & Mysterious,” she coos. “What’s up with him?”
I blush. I’ve never been good at lying. I might as well fess up. “Well…”
Claudia perks up, a brow arched. “Well what?”
“Well… we kind of have a thing,” I confess. “It’s just fun.”
“Really?” Mischa asks with wide eyes. “You have a thing with your boss?”
“Well, don’t make it sound so tawdry, Mischa,” Claudia scolds. “I think it’s fantastic.”
I shrug, a little uncomfortable.
“Does he do you over his desk?” she asks. “I bet he does.”
I shake my head, remembering again. I blush at the memory.
“He soooo does,” she teases. “You lucky bitch. The man is fine.”
Ethan reaches his hand out to Claudia. “Cookie!”
“No, no, Ethan… this cookie is bad.” She pulls a face. “It tastes so bad.” And then she takes a bite.
He looks at her, dumbfounded.
“Here, buddy.” I reach for a shortbread and hand it to him. “Have this one.”
He happily takes it and shoves it in his mouth.
“So we’re all having amazing sex,” Claudia announces. “Cheers to us.”