by Paige North
Some possible investors were in from Maryland and were totally taken with Jordyn. She teased them about the Ravens’ current football record and told them about her undying love for crab cakes.
She was beautiful.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I had to remember to actually talk a little business so the whole afternoon wouldn’t be a waste. So when she wanted to go in the park, I figured what’s the harm.
It’s a perfect fall day, the trees on fire with the reds and oranges of the season. We find a bench facing the pond and she pulls me to sit down as the light breeze caresses her hair and blows it across her forehead in a flattering way.
“I have to get back to the office,” I say. “I can’t stay long.”
“Just a couple of minutes,” she says. She cuddles next to me. I can feel my spine stiffen when she wraps her arm around mine and rests her head on my shoulder. She lets out a deep, satisfied sigh. Her body is so warm against mine.
I don’t want to admit even to myself how good this feels.
Despite myself I kiss the top of her head and she squeezes my arm a little tighter.
She turns her face up to mine. “You sure you can’t come back to the penthouse for just a little while?”
I know what that means, and yes I want to, much more than I want to go back to the office to sit in a boardroom and talk about fourth quarter expectations. I could put that meeting off. All I need to do is send a text and it’ll be rescheduled.
But I can’t.
Work is my priority, no matter how good Jordyn makes me feel. I’m beginning to worry that the more time I spend with her the weaker I become. Just the other day I gave an extension on a contract even though two weeks earlier I swore I’d cancel the whole thing if the work wasn’t done on time.
I’m getting soft, just like Father warned.
“Can’t,” I say, my voice firm.
“Maybe we can have dinner together tonight?” she says.
“We’ll see.”
When she went missing at the baseball game I did notice. But I wasn’t angry that she’d left the suite.
I was angry because I began envisioning her talking to some other guy.
I had this irrational thought that she thought I was just some posh prick and she went off to find a real New York guy, one who didn’t turn his nose up at stadium dogs and domestic beer.
I worried because for a moment I thought I was losing her. I had to remind myself that she’s not mine to lose.
“You’re just mean,” she’d said in the car on the way home. She was crying but they were angry tears. “You treat me like a child. It’s humiliating. You didn’t tell me that you got to treat me like shit when I agreed to do this.”
I hated to see her cry. It gutted me.
And since that day at the baseball game, things have gone much smoother. Too smooth, almost. I’m getting comfortable with Jordyn. If we don’t have an appointment during the day I can hardly wait to get home to see her. Normally I stay late at the office, getting even more work done. Now, with Jordyn, I have something to look forward to. Someone to come home to. And that’s a problem.
Now, sitting here in the park with her snuggled up to me, I feel torn. This isn’t right. It feels so good and that’s the problem. I could sit here on this bench with her until I turn gray. I don’t want to move.
Which means I must move.
I must get back to work and remember my place. Frankly, Jordyn needs to remember her place as well. The meeting is over; there’s no one here to act for. We don’t need to pretend we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.
In fact, we should not be so involved in the act that we end up fooling ourselves. Especially me—I should know better.
I give her arm a quick squeeze. “Come on. I need to get back to work.”
“Fine,” she says as she stands up, but there’s a playful tone in her voice. “I’ll tell you what—come home for dinner and I’ll cook. I can make one thing really well and I’ll make it for you. How does that sound?”
It sounds amazing, perfect, like heaven. I begin leading us out of the park. “Jordyn, I don’t want to promise you I’ll be back at a certain time. I don’t know how my day will go and I can’t have the distraction of a time limit. I need to be able to work until I’m mildly satisfied that I’ve done enough for the day.”
“Okay,” she says, clearly disappointed. Just this small thing pains me. I hate seeing her upset. I hate being the one who has made her upset.
“There’s not too much left to do today,” I say. “I’ll probably be home by seven.”
“Yeah? Seven?” she asks. Now she’s smiling. Now I’ve made her happy. “I’ll get the ingredients, then.”
Back at the office, everything goes to hell. The meeting got pushed back because of the client’s delayed flight, which screwed up the rest of my afternoon. When the meeting finally does happen, three hours later than scheduled, it goes much longer than we anticipated.
My staff orders in dinner so we could power through, since none of us has time in our schedules to reconvene tomorrow. Once the meeting is finally over I go back to my office and try to catch up on email and other bullshit I didn’t have time to do all day. It’s after ten when I get back to the penthouse.
When I open the door the air is fragrant with the warm smell of a home cooked Italian meal. The kitchen is a bit of a disaster of sauce-covered pots and pans. A bottle of wine is opened—and half empty. There’s one dirty plate and fork in the sink, and a clean class and plate on the counter. She cooked, and I failed to show up.
I go upstairs to her room. Her door is open just a crack. I knock and her voice calls out for me to come in.
She’s in bed, her face clean and her hair sprawled out over her pillow. She’s reading a book and there’s an empty glass of wine on the nightstand. She looks so beautiful I could swear it makes my chest ache just to see her.
“Hey, there,” I say from the doorway. “You cooked.”
“I told you I would,” she says. She closes her book, holding it on her lap.
“Work got crazy. Apparently there’s weather down in Maryland so a meeting got pushed back until they arrived and that screwed the rest of my day up.”
She doesn’t look at me, just flips the edges of the paperback cover.
“It smells amazing down there,” I say, keeping my voice light. “Any leftovers?”
“Only enough to feed half the city,” she says.
“Pasta?” I ask.
“Lasagna,” she says. “I make a really freaking good lasagna.”
I smile, but she doesn’t seem to be joking. “Don’t they say that lasagna is even better the second day?” I try.
She finally looks up at me. “It’s good when it’s warm, with a glass of wine and good company. But you can stick it in the microwave if you’re hungry. I'm tired anyway. I’m going to sleep.” She puts the book on the nightstand next to the empty wine glass. She slips down under the covers.
“Jordyn, I really did intend to be here. The day just got away from me. I told you I couldn’t commit to a time. There was a delay—”
“The flight. I know. Weather in Chicago. Really, Miles,” she says, her eyes watching me without a hint of anger, which is what makes me nervous. “It’s not a big deal. I’m not here to cook for you anyway. Just let me know when the next whatever is, and I’ll be there. Right now I just want to sleep.”
“Okay,” I tell her, full of regret. “Sleep well.” As I close the door, she turns off her light.
I go back downstairs to taste her dinner but the sight of it is so sad that I can’t bear it. I feel horrible that she went through all this trouble, for me, and I didn’t even show.
I think back on our conversation at the park. Had I promised her? Or said I’d try? Does it even matter? She was counting on me, and I didn’t show. I grab the bottle of wine and clean glass and head back up to my room.
I take a shower and then get in bed with my laptop and try to get some wo
rk done. I can’t concentrate. I keep looking at my door, partially opened. I can see Jordyn’s closed door. Knowing she’s just across the hall in her own bed is distracting. And it’s not just the fact that she’s in bed that keeps me from concentrating. It’s wondering how she’s feeling. Angry? Hurt? Embarrassed? Whatever it is, I caused it.
Now I won’t be able to sleep until I fix it.
I walk across the hall and slowly open her door. “Jordyn?” I say quietly.
Her room is dark, and I can just make out her figure in the bed. I sit on the edge and see that she’s on her side, facing the middle of the bed. I gently touch her bare shoulder, feeling her warm skin. If she’s really sleeping I know I should just let her be but now that I’m here I just want to look at her. I want to crawl into bed and just hold her. She looks over her shoulder at me.
“It’s me,” I say, my hand on her arm, rubbing it softly.
“Miles,” she says. That’s all—she just says my name. She says my name and I’m crushed. I am putty in her hands.
I kiss her shoulder. “I should have let you know I was going to be late,” I say, then kiss her again.
“I don’t care that you had to work,” she says. “But you didn’t have to leave me hanging.”
“I would have much rather have eaten dinner with you.”
“It was really good, by the way,” she says. “But I was lonely, eating alone.”
“I know,” I whisper, brushing her hair back so I can better see her face. “How can I make it up to you?” I slide my hand over the dip of her waist and the curve of her hip.
“Get in bed with me,” she says. Exactly what I was hoping.
I get in and press the whole of my body up against the back of hers. I begin by kissing her neck as my hand continues to caress her body, over the silky little gown she’s wearing. She tilts her head back toward me, giving me more to kiss as my hand runs across her stomach and up to her tits, which I gently squeeze and pull.
I take down the shoulder of her little dress to expose her breast and she immediately pulls her arm free of it, such a good girl. I turn her on her back, needing all of her, more.
I take her nipple, already so hard for me, into my mouth and suck on her. Jordyn gathers my hair in her fist and pushes me closer like I know she loves. She gets me so heated so fast that all I want to do is eat more of her up.
The other little strap comes down and I take that tit in my mouth as I work the other breast in my hand. God, she’s so perfect, she smells and tastes so good and the little moans that are already coming from her make me feel like I’m going to come right there and then.
I lower myself over her and grind up on her, her legs spreading open for me because that’s what she wants, that’s how hot she is for me.
I can smell her sweet scent now, and I feel like I’m going to burst if I don’t fuck her soon. I need to split her open, to feel her tightness and that wetness soaking my cock.
As I push my hard dick between her legs, she wraps her arms around me and claws at my back. When she breathes out my name it’s almost more than I can take.
“Jesus, Jordyn, you are so fucking sexy,” I say. I pull down the rest of her nightgown and bury my face in her body, licking and kissing my way back up to her tits.
Her skin is so soft and supple and goddamn sexy, it’s driving me literally mad with want and desire.
Her hands are feeling all over my body, squeezing tight at the backs of my arms as I dip down to take her nipple back in my mouth. I suck and lick at her, loving her moans getting louder as my dick throbs and she pushes her hips up into me. I push back from her so I can yank those little panties down and away from her pussy that I want so much.
I look down at her, naked with just the moonlight on her skin. She looks at me with lustful eyes, her body wiggling to me, for me. I slip my finger over her pussy and fuck if it isn’t completely soaked already. I watch her as I circle her hard nub and then dip my finger into tight hole, slowly fucking her with one, then two fingers, loving how much she’s soaking me. My dick is straining in my shorts and I can’t wait any longer. I have to have her. I have to bury my cock inside her.
I slip my finger out and take off my shorts.
“Yes, Miles,” she says. “Take me.”
I lean on my forearm above her and take my dick in my hand. I nudge her at her wet hole. “You want this? You want me inside you?”
“Please, yes,” she says.
I lean down into her neck, licking her and then sucking on her ear lobe. “I’m going to make that pussy come, baby.”
“Wait, I want to grab that big dick,” she whispers breathily. She reaches down between her legs and the moment her little hand is on me, I go still with pleasure. My eyes fall shut and all I can do is feel her.
I keep my lips close to her skin, my hand on the top of her head. She pulls my dick closer to her, dipping it in her wet juices like a paintbrush. I moan when she rubs my dick up and down the length of cunt, teasing me again at her hole and I wonder what I was thinking, why I didn’t just take her.
When I worry that I might not make it inside her, I grab her hand, mine on top of hers.
“Do it,” I say. “Now.”
She spreads her legs wider and lifts her hips slightly to take me. I do the rest—I shove my cock into her hot pussy. I pump her hard twice, three times. I lean over her and slap down on top of her, skin to skin, my dick crushing inside her as she again cries out my name.
I sit up on my knees and take her knees and push them back as close to her shoulders as they’ll go and then I fuck her some more, harder, and then faster. I’m beginning to see stars, my head spinning and I fall forward on my arms but I never stop fucking her. She immediately wraps her legs around my waist and fucks me right back, so fucking horny, her hips and legs pulling me closer, harder into her.
“Jordyn, I'm going to come,” I say, her every move making me that much closer.
“Come inside me, Miles,” she says. “Come with me.”
That’s all I need. I blow into her as I fuck her hard, listening to her cries of ecstasy. Sweat rolls down my back as I collapse on top of her, my face buried in her neck. Her legs slowly unclasp from my waist.
I sit up on my elbow and look down at her. Even in the dark I can see how flushed she is, can feel how slick her skin is.
“You are so beautiful,” I tell her. “The most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”
I’m not just saying idle words. I mean everything I’m saying as I speak the truth. She is incredible and beautiful inside and out.
She smiles, covering her eyes with her hand. I slowly pull out of her; she turns her back to me and I sidle up behind her as I was before, wrapping my arm around her naked body and hold her close to me. Jordyn puts her hand my arm and holds me back. I kiss her neck some more.
“I suppose I forgive you for dinner,” she says.
“Aren’t you kind,” I say.
“See how good I am to you?” she says lightly. “I mean, let’s be real: have you ever had someone as good as me? I’m sure you have not. What are your normal relationships like? One night stands?”
“I don’t have relationships,” I say. “Period.” And I don’t want to talk about relationships either, I think but don’t say. And I definitely don’t want to ruin this moment.
“I think we’re a pretty good team,” Jordyn says. “In bed and out.”
I know she’s just being playful but for me it’s too much. I can’t be part of a team. I wouldn’t even know how to be. My whole life it’s been me against everyone else.
The only way for me to succeed is to work alone. Jordyn is helping me out here in a very specific way—and I don’t just mean in bed—but I’m reminded again that she is under contract for all the times we spend outside the penthouse.
And yes, she’s been good—a good employee. But I can’t let her be more than that. If we get too close…I can’t even think about it. Being too close means throwing away opportunities, an
d that might mean losing my shot at the company.
I still need her to do her job and keep her emotions out of it.
The problem is, I’m having a hard time following my own rules. As I lie in bed with Jordyn, holding her close after such incredible sex—each time is the best I’ve ever had—I know that I’m skimming too close to the edge.
Jordyn lets out a little sigh, her breath evening out. She’s falling asleep. But I can’t stay.
I pull my arm back from around her waist and it takes a little tug for her to release me. It also wakes her up.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Going back to my bed.” I get out from under the warm covers and find my shorts. I turn my back as I pull them on.
“Really? Why? You can stay here.”
I ignore the hurt in her voice as I say, “I like to sleep alone. Besides, I think I’m going to do a little more work. You sleep tight.”
I don’t even kiss her before I walk to the door of her room. That weighs heavy in my stomach, but as I close her door, I know it’s for the best.
Jordyn
Here’s the thing about Miles.
The thing about Miles is…I can’t figure him out.
I’m trying so hard to be cool—as in, do my job, have a little fun with him—and not let my feelings get in the way. The problem is, I am human and therefore I do have feelings.
I’m starting to wonder if Miles really has any, because more often than not, feelings seem to be absent from his personality. Maybe he’s an android.
When he left my bed the other night I felt stunned. I shouldn’t have, not at this point, but I did.
I keep falling for him.
I think he likes me, but then he pulls away like he did the other night, practically running from my room. Maybe it’s a guy thing. Maybe he really did have to work and didn’t want to disturb me. Maybe he’s one of those people who has to sleep alone.
Or maybe I’m just making excuses.
I don’t know what else to do but keep going. Keep doing my job, which is to be a perfect little date for this shark-like businessman. I wear the pretty dresses, put on the pretty smile, and generally make everyone feel more relaxed about doing deals worth millions of dollars, sometimes before the sun is fully in the sky.