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SevenDeadlySinsSeries

Page 5

by Unknown


  “Liz, can you come up to my office? I um… want to ask you something?” Carlton had never called my phone. As a matter of fact, once we crossed into the Michaud Building in the mornings it was as though he became the man of steel. He was never rude to me, but in the office he never gave the tiniest indication that we were sleeping together. No one at the office knew, and that’s the way I assumed he preferred it. He spoke to me in the same distant, friendly way he did everyone else in the building.

  “Sure. Where are you?” I was far too low on the totem pole to have visited the Senior Partner’s offices.

  “Eightieth floor. I’ll be at the elevator.”

  “I’ll be up in a few minutes, sir,” I said before putting the handset back on the cradle. A shiver of pure steel excitement ran through me. It’d been a long time since I’d called anyone I was sleeping with ‘sir.’ I didn’t want to admit I missed the kinky bdsm lifestyle that Benton had been into. Then again, Benton had taken another sub besides me. That’d been against the ‘fucking rules.’ Still, the sexual play had been exciting and I missed it. Carlton had no idea that I’d been into that. He certainly never brought up any kind of sexual play. It didn’t matter; I seriously doubted that I’d ever be bored with his body.

  I stopped by the rest room to freshen up before catching the elevator. As I sat down, I heard a distinct sniffling from the stall next to me. When I exited, a short brunette was splashing water across her face at the sinks. Her eyes were red and splotchy. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was in here,” she said still choking on her words a bit.

  “Are you okay?” I asked studying her in the mirror.

  “I’m fine. Men just suck, that’s all. There’s your quote for the day: men suck!” she crooned.

  I nodded in agreement. I’d cried over a few men myself. “Surely some of them are decent, don’t you think?” I was asking for advice more than offering a positive view.

  “No!” she shook her head vehemently. “They all suck. Special consideration is given to Mike Sheffield for sucking!” Her tears began again and she pressed a wadded piece of toilet paper against her nose.

  Mike Sheffield was a Senior Partner; he was one of Carlton’s best friends. During one of our many walks in the park he’d explained how the three of them met at Cambridge. They’d quickly become a pack, and there they devised a plan on moving to New York and beginning their own firm. The threesome had stayed close friends even through the trials of starting a business together. Mike and Benning had both married American women, and both already had small children. What the hell was she doing with Mike? “Mike Sheffield, as in Sheffield, Michaud and Bell?” I asked afraid of her answer.

  She sniffled again but nodded, “Yep. That’s the prick. I walked into his office an hour ago, and that slut Shelly from Taxes was sucking his fucking dick! Right in his God damned office!”

  I calculated her words carefully; Mike was cheating on his wife. I wonder if Carlton knows that? I turned on the girl in a flash, “What the hell are you thinking? You don’t come in to the bathroom and tell someone you’ve never seen before that a Senior Partner is cheating on his wife! That’s fucking insane; do you want to keep your job?”

  My abrupt words caught her off guard, and she puffed up and began to say something. Suddenly she stopped and stared at me red faced. “Jesus, you’re right! I need to shut my mouth and do my damned job! I can’t lose this job over a couple of sleazy nights at the Hilton!”

  I nodded in agreement, “See there? All you have to do is change the way you think. Men aren’t worth losing your apartment and having a glitch on your resume. You’ve worked too hard to get here. Just let it go. Ignore him and do your job.”

  Her arms flung around my neck, “Thank you so much…?”

  “Liz Martin,” I answered with a smile.

  “Well thank you, Liz Martin. Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before,” she asked now drying her face with a paper towel.

  “I started last Monday.”

  She leaned forward and closely inspected her eyes in the mirror, “So why are you here so late tonight, Liz? It’s Friday after all. This building is desolate after five.”

  I paused, “Would you believe I’m heading up to Carlton Michaud’s office?”

  The short brunette studied me carefully through the reflection in the mirror, “Oh God! I didn’t know Michaud did that kind of thing. I thought he was gay! Liz, you won’t tell him will you?”

  “Oh hell no! What happens in the women’s bathroom stays in the women’s bathroom! Wait, what was your name?”

  She smiled cautiously, “Lana Bowers. I swear Liz, I didn’t know you were sleeping with Michaud. Please don’t tell him what I said about Mike!” She wrung her hands nervously. Clearly she was in a panic now that she knew I was heading upstairs to the boss’ office.

  I held my hand over my heart, “Lana, I swear on the Bible that I will not tell your secret.” I smiled genuinely and pulled her to me for a confirmation hug. “But… Lana, Michaud hasn’t slept with anyone else here?”

  She shook her head timidly now, “Not in the five years I’ve been here. I don’t think Bell does either though. The only playboy seems to be Sheffield.”

  “And you’ve never seen him with other women?” I didn’t know why I was asking all these questions, other than I intensely needed to know. Carlton had told me in no uncertain terms that he’d been single a while, but he never mentioned other women at all. Usually by the end of a first date you have a general idea of how many women who’ve broken your man’s heart. Sometimes you even had a name and an idea of what the women looked like. Not with Carlton. There were no clues whatsoever that he’d ever been on a date in his life. Palmer and I stayed up late one night and Googled him; even the internet held no surprises. At charity functions he was always the stag bachelor. His chastity had earned him the title of one of the ‘Most Eligible Bachelors’ in New York, but there was not one single photo of him with a woman. That was rare in a society like New York; I’d already had my own photo taken with a few tourists. The paparazzi were wicked tricky up here.

  “No one’s ever seen him with a woman. That’s why we all thought he was gay. Of course, we’ve never seen him with a man either. He’s so gorgeous you’d think we’d all be lining up to get a date with him, but he doesn’t seem interested. He treats everyone here the same… except you apparently.” Lana scrutinized me as if to study what I had that no one else did. I wished she’d tell me if she found an answer.

  “Listen Lana, don’t tell anyone I’m seeing Carlton,” I said almost sternly. It had to be said, otherwise she may think it was spreadable information. So far only Palmer, the doorman, and Lana knew about our relationship. I didn’t want it to go any further than that. I was positive that Carlton didn’t. I washed my hands and dried them.

  Lana shook her head fervently, “No, no, what happens in the women’s bathroom stays in the women’s bathroom, right?”

  I nodded, “Right. Have a great night Lana, and forget that prick.” I pushed open the bathroom door and headed for the elevator.

  As the elevator rose to the eightieth floor I wondered again why Carlton hadn’t dated before. Why had he delegated himself the mysterious eligible bachelor? Maybe he was just so discreet that no one ever saw him with his lovers? We’d only been together in his apartment, or mine, then walking the dogs in the park on warm evenings. For all intents and purposes, we weren’t dating either. We were having more of a fuck buddy scenario it seemed. By the time the elevator door opened I doubted that Carlton and I could ever have a future.

  He stood in the hallway pacing in his socks. Did this man ever wear shoes? “What took you so long? I was getting ready to send out a search party!”

  “Ran into a friend in the restroom. She had a mini crisis,” I said without giving away the bathroom secrets. My eyes scanned his attire. His shirt was open at the neck, and his tie was missing as were his shoes. In his hand was a crystal tumbler of bourbon. I fu
rrowed my eyebrows in question, “Is this a party?”

  He laughed and leaned forward to kiss my lips, “It is! Come on, I think it’s time you met the boys. They are all chomping at the bit to lay eyes on you.” His broad hand covered mine and led me through the bulletproof glass wall that protected the inner offices. I took note that the double glass doors were frosted and engraved with our company logo.

  In the central hallway of the office, past the reception desk, were three matching carved mahogany doors. They were almost identical to Carlton’s front door at his apartment. He pushed through the center door and drug me into his office. I was stunned by the panoramic view of Manhattan before I noticed the men lounging in the room. They both snapped to attention when we walked inside, “Men, this is Liz Martin. Liz, Benning Bell-how stupid a name is that- and Mike Sheffield.” Both men stumbled from their lounging positions and stood. They both made a mental inventory of each curve I had, right down to the unruly blond curls on my head. I felt naked beneath Mike Sheffield’s gaze; he had the look of a southern used car salesman. A greasy, wrong side of the tracks kind of appearance that drove a lot of women wild; it certainly had attracted Lana Bowers. He stepped towards me, ensconced in the scent of bourbon and cigars, and bent low to take my hand. I offered it politely, but cringed as he drew it to his lips and kissed it. A disgusting sleaziness swarmed around him like dirt around Pig Pen. Thankfully we southern girls knew the trick to wipe white trash grime off our bodies: gin.

  Benning Bell stood behind Mike and shook his head, “Damn it Mike, now you’ve slobbered all over our only hope of getting Michaud laid. Come here girl, and hug my neck!” His bear arms pulled me to him with a crushing friendliness. His hair matched the color of the freckles on his face perfectly. His laugh reminded me of the Santa at the Charleston Mall when I was a toddler.

  “Nice to meet you all,” I grinned.

  Carlton’s hand was in the small of my back; he was inadvertently sliding it up and down. “Umm, Carlton?” I moaned sliding his hand from my back. I shot him a dangerous glare. He should already know that his touch drives me insane. Even in full company I felt my nipples harden with his simple touch.

  Confused, he looked into my eyes. I’m sure the word ‘LUST’ was written there. He chuckled, finally realizing his mistake.

  “Liz, let me pour you something; you’re the guest of honor after all!” Benning’s Cheshire cat grin turned towards me again. “What’s your poison?”

  “Gin please, on ice, no lime.” It was more for antiseptic purposes than anything. Mike Sheffield gave me the ‘willies!’ Benning waddled across the room to the bar and began muddling with the bottles.

  “Come have a seat next to me, gorgeous,” Mike bolstered. “I promise I won’t bite.”

  Carlton shook his head immediately, “Not going to happen, Mike. Here Ms. Martin, take my chair.” He led me around his desk and pulled his massive leather chair out for me. I sat down against the luxurious glove leather and let out an, “ah!”

  Carlton chuckled, “Pretty sweet chair, huh? The bonus is that the sleaze ball can’t stare at your legs from behind my desk.”

  I was glad to know Carlton wasn’t fooled by boyhood friendships. Clearly he knew what Mike was up to, and that he was dangerous. I warmed with his protection as Benning sat a short crystal glass of gin in front of me. He smiled and waved his hand flamboyantly in front of him as though he was presenting gold to a princess. “So Liz, tell us about you. Carl says you’re from South Carolina? Where exactly is that?”

  My brows furrowed, “Where is South Carolina?” I asked dubiously. Certainly he was teasing.

  Mike gushed into laughter from his perch on the arm of the leather sofa. Carlton rolled his eyes and sat on top of his desk next to me. Benning seemed as though he had asked a legitimate question. I sipped my drink and glanced up at him casually, “A little further south in the pond.” The men all rolled with laughter. Their English accents were charming, and suddenly I could imagine all of them going to college together, getting into trouble, drinking all night at bars… they seemed like the perfect trio.

  Mike leaned forward to set his drink on the glass table, “And your law degree?”

  I nodded, “Charleston School of Law.”

  He shook his head, “Never heard of it. You sure it’s a real school?”

  I crossed my heart with my hand, “I swear. It’s relatively new though. A group of Charleston judges decided that law school graduates from the State college were unsatisfactory. It started to become a problem for clients because the judges didn’t want ‘those idiots’ in their courtrooms. Someone had the brilliant idea for the judges to train students themselves. Thus, Charleston Law.”

  Benning fell heavily into one of the leather chairs across from the desk. “Charming.”

  Mike’s eyebrows raised and he nodded, “Understandable, quite understandable. Very English thing to do, don’t you think?”

  I grinned, “You should visit Charleston sometime, Mr. Sheffield. I believe you’ll find most of us have held on to the old English ways.”

  He studied me, “For instance?”

  “For instance, tea and crumpets in the afternoons. Although I admit we call them cupcakes.”

  He shuffled in his seat, “Cupcakes sound so frilly, definitely not English.”

  “Alright guys, enough of the interrogation. Don’t you have better places to be than lounging around my office?” Carlton smiled deviously at his friends.

  Benning downed his drink, “My damned phone is giving me a thrill. I guess I need to get on home and see what Candy wants. I swear that woman thinks I’m her personal gardener and handyman.” He stood and walked towards the double doors, “It truly was an honor meeting the woman who finally bedded Carl. How long has it been Carlton?”

  “Get out of my office Benning,” Carlton scolded but his expression was teasing.

  Mike sat his empty glass on the table and stood, “Quite right!. Better get home to the old ball and chain myself. Sincerely nice to meet you, Liz. I hope to see you again very soon.” I didn’t like the tone of his voice at all; it was almost a threat in my mind. When the doors closed behind him I let out a long breath.

  Carlton stared at me curiously, “I take it Mike doesn’t charm you the way he imagines he does?”

  I laughed and shook my head, “No he doesn’t.” I dipped my hand into my gin glass and rubbed some of the liquid across the spot he touched. Carlton studied me with amusement.

  “So you invited me up here to meet your friends? That’s almost a commitment, Mr. Michaud.”

  He spun around on the top of his desk and faced me, “Miss Martin, are you taunting me with those sexy feet of yours?” His eyes were glued to my heels. Unconsciously I’d let the heels fall away from my feet beneath his desk.

  My eyes narrowed, he was close to me again and the shivers resumed. Sitting on his desk in front of me he seemed like Goliath preparing for battle. His eyes smoldered with need and his suit pants couldn’t restrain the bulge forming below his waist. “Why don’t you slide over here in front of me and let me see that? It looks swollen, Carlton! Maybe it needs a little first aid?”

  Carlton laughed, but slid smoothly so that he rested seductively in front of my face. He straightened his back as my hands found his waistband. Reaching out I put my hand on the back of his strong thigh and pulled him closer. I was so relaxed with the gin coursing through my veins I felt almost as warm and sensual as he looked. His familiar scent flooded my senses and I nuzzled my face into the warmth of his crotch. Damn he smelled delicious! He straddled me as I unzipped his pants and let them slide down to his ankles. His boxer shorts followed them and he stepped out of both as if he were giving me a lap dance. The thrill nearly choked me. Heat was rising at an alarming speed through my limbs as I pushed him back onto the firm wood of his desk.

  Curly hairs tickled my nose as I sucked in his masculine smells. I lifted his manhood into my hands, admiring how long and pulsing it had become. Issuin
g small kisses along his shaft I sought his large balls beneath my tongue. Like a kid opening a present on Christmas day, I was thrilled at the feeling of them tightening under my tongue. I pulled them one by one into my mouth. Carlton moaned above me, his fingers winding into my hair. I toyed with them until I was sure they were as tight as I wanted. Then I moved upwards towards the hard cock that was bouncing around above my nose in an effort to not be forgotten. I ran my tongue up its base, savoring every meaty ounce of the delicious prick. The head was already dripping my favorite cocktail: pre cum. I lapped at it eagerly, not allowing the least little bit to get away from me as Carlton wriggled above me. “Oh shit, Liz, suck it!” he moaned. Pulling my lips into a snug circle around the head I sucked it inside my mouth. His guttural groans absorbed me; they resounded deep inside my own sex and caused my clit to shudder. My face was wet already from the mixture of saliva and pre cum, it dried it onto my face at intervals as I turned my attention to each individual vein and crevice of his manhood. “Liz, I’m going to come if you don’t slow down!” His voice sounded near desperation.

  Burying my face in the curly hairs with his prick down my throat seemed like the final reward for a long day of work. I felt his balls tighten, his massive hands went to my head, thrusting me even deeper onto him. “I’m going to come!” He moaned above me. The slippery burst shot from the tip of his prick down my throat. I didn’t want to stop; I wanted more and more, he’d had his share of eating me this past week. Now it was my turn! I savored every drop of him, licking his head for every morsel. He was salty, masculine tasting. I could never get enough of this! No one had ever told me that sucking cock could be so damned fantastic. Romance novels had always made it seem like an unwanted chore for married housewives. I’m here to say that those housewives are liars! Carlton’s cock slid from my mouth slowly as I swallowed.

  He took time catching his breath, still kneading his hands through my scalp. Without warning he stood over me, straddling me again. His massive arms lifted me from beneath my shoulders and he scooped me into fetal position against his chest. “Miss Martin, you are a naughty, naughty nurse. Let me take you to the sofa and give you your punishment.”

 

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