by Lia Lee
Jessica laughed in surprise.
“I can’t speak to my father’s taste in women. Mine is much better.” Brent took Jessica’s hands and rubbed his thumb over the back of her right hand. “Even if you aren’t interested in a relationship, I do enjoy time with you, Jessica. You’re very important to me.”
“I…” Jessica looked at their hands. Both of his engulfed her own. “I’m running out of reasons not to want this. It’s not… I shouldn’t…”
She lifted her head and kissed him. His hand moved to cup her cheek, and he leaned in to deepen the kiss. She pressed one hand against his firm chest and felt the muscles under his shirt. He was so strong. She wondered what he would look like with his shirt off.
His other hand started moving up her thigh. For a split second, she considered stopping it, but instead, she scooted closer. The heat between them rose as they kissed and let their hands roam over one another.
There was no going back now. Not that Jessica wanted to.
She heard the panel that blocked sound as well as the driver’s view roll up. Brent had mentioned earlier that it was a complete barrier between them and the chauffeur. For poor Alex’s sake, she hoped that was true. She didn’t want to stop, not now. They’d danced around each other so much since they’d met, and her dreams had never abated. If anything, they were coming more ferociously and more feverishly every night. She slid across the soft leather of the back seat of the limo.
The red silk of her dress was flowing, and when she settled in her place, it had managed to ride over her thighs. Normally, even as flushed as she was from the bottles of wine, Jessica would have pulled the unruly fabric back in place.
Not tonight.
His eyes were roaming hungrily over the pale expanse of her thigh. For once, she didn’t feel unattractive or insufficient. Most Southern California girls were always sun-kissed, tanned from summers at the beach. She liked spending time with Ashley and some of her other sisters out there. It was just more that the operative word in the middle of everything was time. She was so busy studying in the bowels of the school library or trying to do everything her father might need on the side, a few extra gofer hours here or there to make the production company work. Extra time spent entering data on spreadsheets because she believed in what her father and Brent were doing.
It left her paler, wanner than most.
Something she’d been teased about before she found the sorority that had fit her. Rush was such a bitch.
Now, though, Brent was eyeing her legs with the same hunger of a starving man who’d just wandered into an all-you-can-eat buffet. He licked his lips and slid a strong hand up her thigh. The hint of cinnamon and cloves hit her nose strongly, mixed with some designer cologne that complemented his own musk nicely. His hands were strong, callused in a way she hadn’t expected, and she wondered if that bastard father of his had been into physical punishments. Some character-building crap like doing hard labor around the home.
Possible.
It seemed everything was possible with that ass.
Still, his hands were strong as they needed the flesh of her thigh. Man’s hands that were both strong and controlled.
“You’re beautiful.”
Jessica swallowed hard and chased away all her own insecurities. Her experience with men was basically non-existent, and she’d never felt like she stuck out in the right ways before. But here was Brent, a man who could have anyone, and who was charming and worldly and kind. He was the one saying how amazing she was. It was hard to believe that when she tried to reassure herself. When Brent said it? Well, he knew everything from the ins and outs of wine to how to make amazing, beautiful films that touched her soul.
He had to be right, had to see something in her that she never had before.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning up and then kissing the dimple in his chin. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“I mean it. You’re gorgeous. I know we shouldn’t do this, but I’ve spent so long trying to avoid this. I know it’s complicated.”
“Yes,” she gasped out as his hand slid up her thigh and skillful fingers stroked the thin cotton of her panties. “I know, but we have to work it out. I can’t deal with this any longer. I can’t deny it, Brent.”
Her voice was breathy, almost ephemeral. It took every bit of concentration she had to hold onto her sense of self and clarity enough, but even she could tell she sounded nothing like herself, that she was rapidly given into her passion and need.
“Please, Brent, do whatever you want. I don’t want to wait any longer.”
“Me either.”
His right hand trailed over her folds through the fabric of her underwear as he reached up with his left hand and cupped her breast. Leaning down, he trailed sweet kisses over her neck and collarbone, taking time to nip just a bit at the soft skin at the hollow of her throat. “So beautiful,” he murmured when his head came up. “Would you lean up a bit, shimmy your hips for me?”
Blinking and dazed, she angled her body off the limo and through a bit of fumbling, Brent was able to slide her plain white panties off her. He let them drop carelessly to the floor of the limo. His left hand was skillfully kneading her breast as his right found the soft skin of her labia. He caressed the flesh there, a soft tease of just the ghosting presence of his fingers. Jessica inhaled sharply and shivered under his embrace.
One finger slid in between the skin and then found her channel; it was already wet and slick for him. She was ready. Brent slid first one finger in, which filled her deeply, then a second finger joined the first. It was more than enough for her. God, how she’d ever… She just bet he was bigger in other areas. That was all. This felt like more than she ever thought she could handle, like the completion she’d been missing in her life.
Blue eyes, as bright as an Arctic ocean, regarded her. “Are you ready, baby?”
Jessica nodded, and her voice, when she spoke, was barely a whisper: “Yes, please. I want everything you can give me, Brent. Only you.”
His jaw clenched, and she gave way to the sensations building around her, to the thickness buried deep inside of her, the ragged panting of both their breaths, her own perfume and musk mixing with that strong hint of cinnamon and cloves. Her heart was galloping now in her chest, and she felt like someone who must have run a marathon did.
And still, he continued.
In. Out.
In. Out.
His pace increased, and then his thumb pressed against her clit, rolling clockwise against her nerves. Fireworks exploded behind her eyelids, and heat rushed over her body, starting from her core and streaking down her arms and legs. Up to her fingertips and toes. Brent’s pace was racing ever faster. And she could only feel. There was no energy left in her to think, only the thrum of her heart, the harshness of her breath, and the sizzling from her clit. Then Brent pushed hard enough to send her over the edge.
She climaxed.
Her body and nerves going up in an explosion of need, heat, and desire.
It almost felt like she spaced out for a while. Eventually, blinking up at him, she regarded those startling blue eyes with her own. “Wow. I…”
He kissed her lips even as he pulled his hand away and looked for a few napkins and other things to help the cleanup. “‘Wow.’” He winked at her. “I think that just about sums it up.”
Chapter Eight
Brent
It wasn’t often that Brent had a spring in his step on a Monday morning, but today, he was practically skipping. On the way to the docks, his thoughts were full of Jessica and only Jessica. They had spent Saturday night talking and kissing and with more than a bit of heavy petting again, focused on her. He knew she was still inexperienced – could tell from her nervousness overall. He wanted to make everything work for her. Wanted to make sure she set the pace. That Sunday, she had spent the day with him as well, flirting and making out, until Cara had come home, and they had reluctantly separated and focused their energies on her.
It had taken everything in him not to push for more, but they’d done so well letting Jessica be in charge. It calmed her, and she hadn’t pulled away from him once. Her wit and beauty were killing him by inches, but he loved every moment of it.
Brent got out of the car near the docks and saw Carl and Allen already out there chatting. He took a deep breath and headed over to them.
“Morning, fellows.” Brent strolled up to them both and slipped his hands into his pockets. “How was your weekend?”
“Binge-watched terrible shows with the wife,” Carl said. It was his standard answer. If pressed, he would tell them it was his prerogative as an old married man to be fat and boring.
Allen shook his head. “I did some paperwork. I think you’ve got us beat.”
“You get laid?” Carl asked.
“I did not. Allen knows. I went to the zoo with my daughter and Jessica. It was a good time.” Brent shrugged. “The girls loved the animals. Jessica made a contact there. And I got to tag along.”
Carl raised a brow and looked skeptically at Brent before shooting a look at Allen.
“Don’t look at me,” Allen said.
“You know his bullshit better than anyone.”
“That doesn’t mean I can convince him not to do it.”
Carl crossed his arms and pursed his lips.
“Can we get to work before traffic back to the office turns into a quagmire?” Brent strolled past them and looked out onto the ocean. He could see Jessica tasting the Chardonnay, opening wide for a bite of mignon, groaning obscenely deep in her throat when she’d tasted the chocolate.
There were a few dessert places in the city he was definitely going to have to take her to.
“And this guy says he wasn’t with a woman this weekend.” Carl scoffed.
“Liar.” Allen shook his head. “You two visionaries figure out if you even want this place. I’m going to go talk to the harbormaster and discuss budgets.”
Brent exhaled and tried to focus his mind on business. Their company had a lot of critical traction, but like any small independent production studio, they were always working to reduce costs and keep the ledgers balanced. He couldn’t do that if he were thinking of the way Jessica moaned while sipping rich red wine or about the look of ecstasy on her face when she’d come in the back of the limo.
Carl frowned at him. “Man, are you alright?” He ran a hand through his short, graying hair and rubbed the dark skin of his forehead. “Seriously, you’ve been off the last week at least.”
“It’s nothing,” Brent replied.
Then his phone dinged.
He pulled it out instantly in case it was Cara. She had a cell that she kept hidden in her backpack ever since the first hair incident. She was under instructions to text or call him if those hellions attacked her again. He was keeping in-depth records for his coming meeting at the school between himself, the administration, and the head monster’s senator father. Proof was his ally in all of this.
He couldn’t help smiling when he saw that the text was from Jessica, something sweet and simple: Had a great time this weekend. Can’t wait to do it again. J.
“Are you shitting me?”
Brent almost dropped his phone but managed to keep his grip on it despite being startled. Not that his slip wasn’t obvious enough. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said as he shoved the phone back into his trousers.
Carl looked over his shoulder – to where Allen had followed the harbormaster into a building less than one hundred yards away. “Dude, I’m going to say this while Allen’s not here and still distracted. You need to knock this crap off. Jessica is his daughter, and she’s not even half your age! That’s too young, man!”
Brent narrowed his gaze at Carl. He was a great COO and friend as well, but he was an employee. There were lines. Him busting Brent’s balls about Jessica was a huge dash across them. “I don’t answer to you.”
“No, but we’re working hard to keep our projects together and everything afloat. We have a good shot this year to not just go to the Oscars but win one. Besides, you and Allen have been close friends for almost a decade. You’re going to ruin that all for a woman?”
“She’s not just any woman.”
Carl sighed and rubbed his temples. “I’m sure it’s special and magical, and the angels sing…”
Brent shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. I haven’t felt like this in a very long time. Nothing since LeeAnne died. I don’t know what it all means, but I’m not giving what we have up so easily. Jessica isn’t a child; she’s twenty-one, and if she’s old enough to drink, then she’s old enough to make her own decisions in life.”
“You say that now, but I don’t think Allen will see it that way at all if he figures out what you’re doing with his daughter. You can’t do this, man. You have to end it.”
“I can’t back away from the happiest thing I’ve felt since I lost my wife. I’d forgotten what it was to feel like this. After nine years without it, I don’t want to give this up.”
“Do you want to keep your production company? Do you want to be more than just the VP for your father’s telecom company?”
“How can you even ask me that? Of course!”
“Then,” Carl said, gesturing wildly to the harbormaster’s building, “you need to think about everything very carefully. Because our friendships and this production company will not survive a revelation like this coming out. I don’t know how far you’ve gotten, and I don’t want to know. It’s fucking better if I don’t. But you need to end this, or we won’t be a company six months from now, and you know what, man? That sucks. I have a family to feed same as everyone else here. We need this company to work, and you need to keep your dick where it belongs.”
Brent felt his jaw clench, and it took a few minutes to release enough tension to speak again. “Don’t overstep. We’re friends, but you still work for me, Carl.”
“You’re the one who overstepped first, Brent. End it. Or we’re all fucked.”
***
After they had come to an agreement with the harbormaster, Brent made up a lie about feeling a fever and chest cold coming on and went straight back home. He never took time off, usually worked nine to ten-hour days by getting to the office extra early in the morning, so the fact he was having his first sick day in three years had pinged Allen’s radar. While his friend was solicitous, there was a clear confusion in his gaze. Who knew what Allen really thought. It couldn’t have helped that there was thick tension curling between Brent and Carl all morning. Either way, he was home, and he’d be teleworking the rest of the day. Or that was the plan. Until his shitty day got worse and his father wandered into his office.
“Son, that little company of yours will never go anywhere if you take Mondays off.”
“I have the flu or something, and I’m working from home for the first time in years. We’re not about to be shuttered just yet,” he said, pointedly focusing on his computer screen and not at his father’s rat-like face.
“I’m just saying that from my experience, there are a lot of ways for a company to go belly up. A lazy CEO is the first weak link. What is that expression? ‘The fish rots from the head’?”
“You’d know, Dad,” Brent replied, his tone clipped. “I’m finalizing a few details for our next location scouting. Is there anything you need from me, or do you just want to dig in any knives as deeply as you can?”
“Son, I do what I do for your own good. It’s just a solid bit of managerial advice. Then again, I just run the tenth most profitable company on the planet. What would I know about business?”
“We’re doing fine, thank you.”
“Yes, Oscar-nominated in 2017. Isn’t that just another way to say ‘loser’, Son?”
“I am going
to lock my door from now on if I’m ever in my home office. This damn complex must have close to one hundred rooms, but you just couldn’t resist barging into mine.”
His father continued, undeterred, “Not that I’d mind if your silly, self-indulgent quest to run a movie studio – out of San Diego no less – ran aground. I’ve always got a spot at the company still warm and waiting for you. One day, a girl as smart as Cara will make an incredibly incisive CEO.”
Brent shot up from his desk and bunched his fists at his sides. “Cara will grow up to do whatever she wants. Right now, it looks to be a marine biologist. In high school or college, who knows? But she won’t have her life dictated by you the way mine was.”
“I didn’t dictate you starting up a wannabe Warner Brothers, Son. Perish that thought,” his father said, leaning against the doorway and stroking his chin. “I’ve given you free rein, and the result has been quite disappointing.”
Brent took in a deep breath to try and dissipate his anger. “You say that, but you’re the one playing games with my child already and just waiting for my studio to fail. I know you think otherwise, but there’s disappointment to go around.”
“Cara’s brilliant like me and like LeeAnne was. Your company has done well enough for over a decade, much to my annoyance. That’s happened outside my sphere of influence. Now, can we actually discuss what I came here for or do you have more accusations to hurl at me?”
“I thought hurling insults at me was why you were here.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I enjoy guiding you; that’s true. However, I have a busy schedule, and I don’t need this needless aggravation either.”
“You’re the source of it,” Brent muttered under his breath and rolled his eyes. His father brought out his inner fifteen-year-old and always would.
“Anyway, I wanted to talk about this year’s fundraiser for the Sanderson Pharmaceutical and Antibiotic Advances Research Foundation. Have you given it any thought at all?”
Brent sighed and hung his head. He had to admit that he hadn’t – with all the trauma coming Cara’s way as well as securing location shoots for the studio’s newest “baby”. A sharp pain lanced through his chest at the thought. LeeAnne had been his world. Since when did the fundraiser that helped fund the foundation he’d started after her death become just a chore to get to?