by Tia Siren
“Okay then, sounds like you have everything under control,” Christopher said, giving Mandy a pat on the back. “It’s gonna be another great Christmas party.”
“I’m sure it will be, given my planning skills and your money,” Mandy said. She walked away without acknowledging that I was even there.
“Everything all right?” I asked.
“It is now,” Christopher said, holding out his hand. I put my hand in his and he tugged me into the office and shut the door. I sat in the chair in front of his desk and waited for him to sit behind the desk.
“So, you wanted to talk to me about Patrick’s Christmas gift?”
“Actually, no, that was just a lie to get you here,” he said. He rested his forearms on the desk and laced his fingers together. “I thought we should talk about the other night.”
“The other night?” I asked, playing dumb. Christopher was squirming a bit in the chair. I loved it. “What about the other night?”
“You know,” he said, frowning. “Our little high school grope session in my car.”
“Ah, that other night.” I grinned at him. “Well, there’s no need to apologize. Especially after what we did beforehand.”
He shook his head at me. “Apologize? I wasn’t going to apologize.”
“You weren’t?”
“No.”
“Then why am I here?”
The devilish grin returned to his handsome face. “I wanted to find out when we could continue what we started.”
Now it was my turn to squirm. I felt the chair growing hot beneath me. “You mean, just us?”
“Of course just us,” he said quietly. He leaned back with a hurt look on his face. “I mean, I think there’s a connection here, Mac, and well, I just thought we could try it again with just the two of us to see where it might lead.”
I stared into his blue eyes for a moment, not really sure what to say. I licked my suddenly dry lips and tried to formulate the thoughts bouncing around in my head into words.
I did enjoy making love to him. I had replayed it over and over in my mind every night since. It was amazing, but I also enjoyed my time with Patrick, not just the sex, but the innocent hanging out with no expectations or pressure. I took a deep breath. I didn’t expect to ever be in this position and honestly didn’t know what to say.
“Am I moving too fast?” he asked.
I sighed at him. “Maybe a little.”
“Do you want me to back off?”
“Maybe a little.” I held my breath, waiting for his reply. My fears were abated when he gave me a smile.
“Only a little?” he asked with a grin. “I would never force myself on you, Mac. I think we have a connection and I think we could be amazing together, but I would never force you to do something you didn’t want to.”
“I know that,” I said. The truth was, part of me wanted him to be forceful. Part of me wanted him to show up at my door and push his way into my tiny room and rip off my clothes and shove his massive cock into every orifice in my body. I was getting moist just thinking about fucking him again. But another part of me wanted Patrick to do the same. I realized that I was torn because I wanted them both. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do.
“Maybe we could just take things a little slower,” I said to buy some time, glancing up to meet his gaze. What was left of my brain told me to beg for more time while it could talk to my heart and figure out what the hell it was that I really wanted.
“I can go slowly,” he said, wiggling his eyes brows at me. “I can as slowly as you like it...”
“Stop it,” I said, giving him a scolding look. The alarm on my iPhone buzzed. I held up the phone so he could see the screen, then I got to my feet and headed for the door. “I’m late for a meeting. Can we chat later?”
“Definitely,” he said with a grin. “I do have one request.”
I froze in the doorway. “What’s that?”
“At the Christmas party this weekend. Save me a dance?”
“That I can do,” I said.
“A slow dance, of course.” He narrowed his eyes at me. I could feel the heat of his stare on my cheeks.
My phone buzzed again, thankfully. I said, “Sounds great,” and left him sitting at his desk with a silly grin on his face.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: McKenzie
Legend has it that the KPS Christmas party is THE party of the season in Silicon Valley. Always tons of food and tons of booze and one year they even had Elton John perform. Over the years, so many people had tried to crash it that now the place was crawling with security and you had to show your KPS badge just to get in with a plus-one.
I was sitting at a big table near the dance floor with Keisha and her date. Patrick was sitting to my right and Christopher was to my left. Mandy was on the other side of Christopher. It would have been hard for a stranger to tell who was with who, though I wasn’t really sure myself.
The atmosphere at the table was a little tense at first, but the three Coronas I’d consumed over the last hour was loosening things up nicely.
“What time does the band start?” Keisha yelled at Mandy from across the table and pointed to the stage, which was already set up with instruments and microphones, but no musicians.
Mandy looked at the expensive watch on her wrist. “The band starts at nine, so ten minutes”
“Excellent! I love to dance,” Keisha said, her head bopping in time to imaginary music. “How about you, Mac? As I recall from school you’re quite the dancer.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Yes, I do a lovely drunken foxtrot.”
“Then drink up,” Christopher said, bumping me with his elbow.
“Do you need another drink?” Patrick asked, pressing his shoulder to mine. Christ, I was getting it from both sides, almost like in my dream.
I held up my half-full bottle. “I’m fine for now.” I gave Patrick a smile as our eyes met. “I’ll need one soon, though.”
“Just say the word,” Patrick said, looking past me to give Christopher a “fuck you pal” look. Christopher responded by putting a hand on my left knee under the table. He didn’t realize that Patrick’s hand was already on my right knee. Wow, I’d never felt so attractive. Or so confused. Or so wet.
“Okay then, let’s get this party started,” Mandy suddenly said. She leaned over and whispered something to Christopher, then got up and strutted across the dance floor to the stage. One of the musicians held out a hand to help her up. She whispered something in his ear, then moved to stand at the microphone at the center of the stage.
“Is this on?” She tapped the microphone with a sharp fingernail. “All right, are we having a great time?”
The crowd of nearly four hundred party guests roared their approval. Mandy held up her hands to shush them. “Okay, just a reminder that we will be doing the drawings for prizes each time the band takes a break, and if you participated in the Dirty Santa, we’ll do that at midnight.”
I leaned across Patrick to whisper in Keisha’s ear. “More giant dildos, you think?”
“If Mandy is involved, there will be dildos,” she said with a laugh.
“Then let’s get this party started!” Mandy yelled. “Please welcome Earth… Wind… and…”
I felt a hand on my left wrist and felt myself being tugged out of my chair. Christopher was literally dragging me to the dance floor. I looked back at Patrick. All he could do was watch me go.
“Did you ask me to dance or just assume that I would?” I yelled at Christopher once we were on the dance floor.
“Who can resist this song?” he yelled back, bopping to the music.
The dancefloor quickly filled up and Christopher and I were right in the middle of things. I decided what the heck. It was a party. I was a little drunk. I was gonna have fun. Besides, Patrick could have the next dance if he wanted.
The first song blended into another and then another. A dry ice machine billowed fog over the crowd as the lights above bathed us all i
n swirling reds, greens and blues.
It was sweltering on the dancefloor. My entire body was covered in sweat. Christopher looked like he’d just come from surfing. His hair was plastered to his forehead. The tight white dress shirt clung to his muscled chest and shoulders like a second skin. I watched a line of sweat run from his neck down to his chest. The words “lick it off” flashed through my mind.
The music finally ended and I grabbed Christopher’s hand to drag him off the floor. I needed a cold beer and lots of napkins to wipe off the sweat.
Then I heard the singer say, “Hold up, you can’t leave the dance floor till you give the man his kiss!”
I turned around to see Christopher standing there, still gripping my hand so that I couldn’t move. In his other hand was a sprig of mistletoe. He was holding it above my head.
“You can’t be serious,” I heard myself say. I looked around the dance floor. We were the only ones out there now and someone had put a spotlight on us. I looked toward the table, but I couldn’t see Patrick through the smoky haze.
Without even asking, Christopher pulled me into his arms, bent me backward, and pressed his lips to mine.
And I’m not talking about a friendly little kiss. I’m talking about a full blown “I’m gonna mash my face into yours” kind of kiss.
At that moment, the alcohol seemed to dissipate in my system and I understood exactly what Christopher was doing.
He wasn’t just kissing me. He was putting on a show for Patrick’s benefit. What. A. Dick.
I bit down hard on his tongue so he’d get it out of my mouth.
I brought my hands up and grabbed his ears and gave them a twist. He screamed and pulled me upright and pushed me away.
I didn’t give him a chance to say a word. I balled up my bony right fist and socked him as hard as I could, squarely in the nose. He went down like a ton of bricks.
As I stomped off the dance floor, the crowd went wild, clapping and cheering. Obviously, I had done what many of them had wanted to do.
It would probably get me fired, but damn, it sure felt good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: McKenzie
When I got back to the table, everyone was giving me a standing ovation. Everyone except Patrick. His chair was empty.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“He said he had some work to do in his office,” Keisha said. She poured some ice into a napkin and told me to wrap it around my bruised hand.
“Is he pissed?”
She gave me a hard look. “Mac, I’m your friend, but I’m gonna tell you straight up. You need to figure out who you want and do it now. Christopher loves these games you’re playing, but Patrick is tender-hearted. You’re hurting him and you don’t even know it.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” I said, my eyes filling with tears. “I was just having a good time.”
“You may not have meant to, but you did. So before you run up there and apologize and get his hopes up again, you need to figure out which boy you want to leave the party with. Because you can’t have them both.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: Patrick
It was bad enough having to watch McKenzie bump and grind on the dance floor with Christopher, but when he pulled her in for that kiss it was all I could do not to run out on the floor and hammer him.
Keisha must have seen the look in my eyes because she grabbed my arm and just said, “Not now.”
Good thing. I was just drunk and mad enough to do something stupid that could have put the whole company at risk.
I can just see the headline on Reddit and Tech-Crunch.
KPS CEO’s IN FIST FIGHT OVER GOTH GIRL …STOCK PLUNGES TO NEW LOWS…
Fine, I wasn’t going to kick his ass in front of the entire company, but I didn’t have to watch him and McKenzie acting like fucking school kids either. I picked up my phone and told Keisha that I had work to do and left the party behind.
I should have known better. I had never let myself get interested in a girl that Christopher and I partied with.
And I never would again.
CHAPTER THIRTY: McKenzie
By the time I stepped out of the elevator my hand was throbbing. I had wrapped the ice-filled napkin around my knuckles, but it just made the pain cold.
I wondered if I’d broken my hand on Christopher’s nose. If I had, it was a battle scar well-earned.
I could see a light under Patrick’s door at the end of the dimly-lit hallway. I paused for a moment outside of the door, listening. I didn’t hear anything, so I tried the knob and found it unlocked. I tapped my good knuckles on the door and pushed it open enough to see Patrick sitting at his desk with his eyes glued to his computer screen.
“Can I come in?” I asked, sticking my head through the crack in the door.
“There’s no music or booze in here,” he sniped. “So you should probably go back downstairs where all the fun is.”
I bit my tongue and pushed open the door. I moved to sit across from him with my injured hand clutched to my chest. Yes, I was going for the sympathy vote. Don’t judge; you’d do the same.
“Why are you up here?” I asked in a weak voice. “I was going to ask you to dance.”
“It looked like you had chosen your partner for the night,” he said angrily. He glanced over at me and his stern expression immediately went soft. “What happened to your hand?”
“I think I broke it,” I said, my lower lip poking out.
“On what?”
“On Christopher’s nose.”
His mouth hung open for a moment, then curved into a smile. “You socked him in the nose?”
“I did,” I said, giving him a nod. “The last time I saw him, Mandy was scooping him up off the dance floor.”
“But, why?” He looked confused. “I thought you wanted him to kiss you.”
“I never invited him to kiss me,” I said. My voice was the angry one now. “And he didn’t give me time to say no.”
Patrick was grinning like a cat. “So you socked him in the nose.”
“I did.” I held up my injured hand. “And I would do it again.”
“Wow, I hope someone got it on video,” he said, picking up his phone.
“Seriously? You’re going to check YouTube now?”
“Oh, sorry,” he said, setting the phone aside. He leaned into the desk with a sympathetic look in his eye. “Look, I have no right to be pissed. I mean, we’ve never even, I mean, I have no claim on you, Mac. If you want to date Christopher that’s fine. I have no right to be upset.”
“But I think you do,” I said with a heavy sigh.
He blinked at me. “I do?”
“Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you or to lead you on.”
“You did both,” he said quietly. Boy, that arrow hit me right in the chest.
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“If you want Christopher just say so. I’ll understand. He’s better looking than me, a hell of a lot more fun, and the size of his… well… you know.”
“Are you finished?” I asked. “Can I speak now?”
He said, “Certainly.”
“First of all, I do not want Christopher. Yes, I am flattered by his attention, but I also realize that I am just the flavor of the week. I’ve heard all the stories. Christopher doesn’t do commitment. He moves from one girl to the next, one party to the next. That’s not what I’m looking for.”
“In his defense, he is a great guy,” Patrick said. “He just really had a fucked up childhood. His dad died when he was young, his mother committed suicide. He’s dealt with depression his whole life. I think he’s afraid he’s going to miss out on something if he stops to smell the roses too long.”
“That’s really sad,” I said, meaning it. “I had no idea.”
“Very few people know the real Christopher Kinsey,” he said, a faint tear in his eye. “I know him better than anyone, and I make excuses for behavior and let him get away with a lot of things.” He wiped his eyes. “I guess I fig
ure if he stays busy, he won’t start thinking about his dead parents and go into a depression. I should have told you all this weeks ago. I knew that you were just another challenge for him, but that’s what keeps him going. The second that Christopher feels that life has gotten boring, well, I’m not sure how he’ll do.”
“Oh my god, I have to apologize to him,” I said, my heart in my throat. “I should have never led him on. And oh my God, I punched him in the nose!”
“You didn’t lead him on, McKenzie. Christopher knew exactly what you were doing and what he was doing. You got caught up in his game and all I can do, as his partner in this business, is apologize for him and hope you understand.”
“That’s not all you can do,” I said, gazing up into his eyes.
“Just name it.”
“Well, you can come around this desk and kiss me,” I said, holding up a sprig of mistletoe I’d picked up from the table downstairs with my good hand. “And then…”
“And then?”
I held up my other hand. “You can take me to the hospital. I think I broke my hand.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: McKenzie
My hand wasn’t broken, just badly bruised. The ER doctor wrapped it with an Ace bandage and told me not to use that hand for a while. I told Patrick not to be too worried. I was quite ambidextrous.
Patrick drove us to his house in the hills. For a billionaire, it was a pretty modest place. Then again, Patrick was a pretty modest guy. He drove a five-year-old Prius that seemed like a toy compared to Christopher’s Tesla. But that was okay. Cars never impressed me much. It was all about the guys driving them.
Patrick led me to his bedroom at the end of a long hall. The mad passion of our first encounter was gone, replaced by something even better: true feelings, perhaps true love.
He gently undressed me, careful of my wounded hand, then told me to lie back and relax while he got undressed. I spread my legs as Patrick crawled onto the foot of the bed between them. He caressed my thighs and trailed little kisses around my belly button, then let his tongue guide down to my clit. I felt a jolt of electricity go through me as his tongue swirled around my clit. He parted my pussy lips with his fingers and dipped his tongue into my hole.