by Mirrah
“You like,” Drake groaned.
“You…know…I…do.” I cooed when I could form the words.
I sighed and moaned. My body was on fire. I desired him as badly as he wanted me. Needing more than his fingers teasing me, I lifted off his lap and helped him to remove his pants and silk briefs.
He will never have to use drugs to enhance his sexual drive. His erection bopped before me sinfully—deliciously causing me to flow generously.
Finally, I took him into my hands and squeezed him.
“Hey, I need that. Be gentle with my joystick.”
“Your joystick,” I repeated, amazed by the names men came up with for their other head.
“Yes, my joystick. You care to come on board?”
“Si, I want a ride.”
I teasingly covered him up as I protected us.
“Bella,” he groaned and I watched his eyes smoldered again.
I was nearly purring when Drake lifted me and took him into my body, inch by sweet inch, until his loins hit the tip of my womb.
“Ahh, you feel so good. I’ve missed you,” Drake whispered in my ear.
“It has only been five-days since we last made love, Querdio.”
“I’m a ravenous man who doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
I laughed at him. Drake wasn’t a patient man—stubborn, but generous with his money and body. I knew what he wanted and was more than happy to give him what he desired—me.
“Fuck me like you missed me,” I naughtily cooed to him in Spanish. “Five-days is a long time to not have you inside of me Drake—loving me. I need you now, Querdio!”
Drake pulled out, and then seated himself between my moist thighs in one deep sweet thrust. He began to fuel my body, pumping in and out slowly—deeply—feverishly, until I screamed with delight. I found new bound energy as heat rippled down to my toes.
“You are mine, every damn sweet inch of your body—mine! My lips.”
He kissed me.
“My breasts.”
He took one nipple between his teeth and gently gnawed on it until I screamed again.
“My pussy, Bella—my pussy,” Drake chanted.
“Oooh, yes, yes, yes!” I could feel my love muscles pulling him in deeper.
Suddenly, he reversed our positions. Our sex separated.
“Drake,” I whimpered needing him fully back inside of me.
He stretched me fully out on the leather seat, and then drove into me like a horny bull.
“Yes! Drake, yes, I am yours. I am yours!” I cried out, offering myself to him again.
His thrusts were hard and deep, but desirously wanted. My toes curled, my limbs immediately wrapped around his hips for more of his pleasure. We stroked each other rhythm for rhythm. Soon, we were moaning and staring into the other’s daze filled eyes. His cock pumped into my haven again and again. We were lost in our own passionate world until we climaxed within seconds of the other.
§
That set the tone for the weekend. By Valentine’s Day I had been thoroughly made love to. Drake woke me up to breakfast in bed that morning, later we bathed together in the Jacuzzi until our skins were wrinkled. After consuming several glasses of chilled champagne mimosas, eating a dozen oysters and steamed shrimps, we fell back into bed and made love again. I spent the most romantic—erotic weekend in Drake’s arms and I didn’t ever want to leave him.
Chapter Seven
Our secret love affair was in a holding pattern by the middle of May. Drake went away to Boston for a business conference. He was away the entire week, and I missed him like crazy. However, Ms. Phillips kept me busy at the office.
Drake returned to the office on Wednesday. Before I could greet him with a kiss, he was called into a meeting. At noon, I stopped by his office and found he was still held up with his top division heads, including Ms. Phillips. His secretary ordered a working lunch for them. I caught a glimpse of him when he grabbed his lunch. He winked at me. I gave him a subtle smile, and noticed the stress etched across his forehead. I planned to relieve him of his stress the moment we are alone. My sexual appetite was as equal to his. I missed him.
§
Drake was still inside his office in another meeting when I left work at six o’clock. I envisioned what we both needed, another insatiable weekend of sex. I immediately planned a surprise for Drake that weekend. I ordered a bouquet of red roses, and a romantic dinner rich with seafood—oysters, and shrimps, his favorites to be delivered to his home.
§
Thursday morning, I sat at my desk with a cup of coffee in my hands, wondering why Drake never called me last evening. I texted him at nine P.M., and after not receiving a reply went to bed and dreamed about him.
“Gurl, get to work,” I told myself. I turned on my computer and began my day assured I’d hear from Drake shortly.
The buzz of the telephone startled me, an hour later.
“Hart Enterprises, Accounting department, Ms. Ruiz speaking. How may I help you?”
“Ms. Ruiz, Mr. Hart would like you to come to his office.” Drake’s efficient secretary stated, in her dry monotone voice.
“Yes, ma’am,” I giddily replied. I couldn’t hide my delight. I was eager to see my man.
Finally, I’d get some alone time with him. I planned to kiss him until he couldn’t control himself, and I didn’t care if we got another quickie right there in his office again.
I wanted him fiercely. But Drake wasn’t alone when I stepped inside. Ms. Phillips and the security officer, Mr. Nolan accompanied him.
“Good morning,” I politely greeted them all.
Mr. Nolan offered me his seat, but his usual friendly personality was gone. He was very formal, and I felt a chill in that room.
Ms. Ruiz, I’ll come straight to the point of this meeting,” Drake said, all business-like, and impersonal. “Our recent examination revealed a discrepancy with one of your accounts.”
“Which account is that, Mr. Hart?”
“The Donnelly account has a seven hundred-thousand dollar discrepancy. Can you explain that, Ms. Ruiz?” He asked, an accusatory tone in his voice.
I couldn’t miss the anger in his voice, nor his unwavering glare. He looked right through me, as if we weren’t lovers.
“That’s impossible! I like to see that reports, Dra—Mr. Hart,” I countered. I know he isn’t sitting there calling me a liar and a thief!
I bolted out of my seat, and snatched that report right out of his hands. How could that be? I sat back in my seat and flipped through the report. “No, there has got to be a mistake.” A migraine was beginning and my head started to pound. “May I use your computer?” I whispered, in a state of denial.
“Please do,” he said and stood. For a moment when I slipped into his chair, I saw a sparkle of life come back into Drake’s eyes.
His sandalwood cologne wafted under my nostrils, and the heat from his body warmed me when we brushed past each other.
My hands frantically dashed across the keyboard, entering my password, and calling up the Donnelly spreadsheets. There was still a discrepancy.
“Isabella, did you find that discrepancy?” Ms. Phillips inquired.
Ms. Phillips’ superior attitude and that smug look on her face sent a chill down my spine. For the first time, I really looked at her. I didn’t take that money. The only other person who could have was my immediate supervisor.
“You misappropriated that money, Ms. Phillips,” I accused.
“Really, Isabella; Mr. Hart that would be next to impossible. Each of the accounts assigned to our accountants are password protected. There’s no way I could’ve gotten into her accounts. The Information Technology department could confirm that. All of the entries on that report displayed Isabella’s password.”
“Which you could have easily obtained, Ms. Phillips. I wrote it down on a notepad inside of my locked desk— for which you have the spare key,” I spat. Professionalism was long gone since I was fighting to regain my h
onor.
“I didn’t know that. Besides, your password is supposed to be stored in your head, and not lying around for anyone to get hold of, Ms. Ruiz,” her words were quietly spoken as she maintained her control.
I stared at the bitch, my supervisor. She looked back at me with a big smile on her face which proved guilt to me.
Drake sat back at his desk with the incriminating report. This time when he looked up at me, his blue eyes were flat. His tone of voice became colder when he spat out his orders.
“Ms. Ruiz, you’re relieved of your duties!”
He turned to the security officer. Mr. Nolan, please escort Ms. Ruiz to her desk, make sure that she packs up her personal belongings, and see her out of this building—now!”
“No!” I screamed.
My professionalism was gone when I ripped that report right out of Drake’s hands.
“You can’t fire me!”
“You’re lucky I’m only firing you. I could have you arrested for embezzlement. That’s serious jail-time, Ms. Ruiz.”
“Ms. Ruiz,” I repeated.
Tears welled up in my eyes. Drake truly believed I had taken the money!
I found my right hand sliding across his desk, grabbing his wrist, and wrapping my fingers around his. My mind replayed the last time we made love, and how Drake held my hands. He had a touching fetish, and I hoped he could feel my love for him. We were so close, then. Now, we’re miles apart.
“Look at me, Drake.”
Ms. Phillips and Mr. Nolan stood inside the doorway watching.
“Querdio, te amo,” I said softly while my thumb ran over his left hand. “I didn’t take that money. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I can assure you it wasn’t me. I would never steal from you!”
Our gaze met for a moment, and I know he could see the love in my eyes. Then he released my hand.
“I can’t trust you, Bella. This isn’t just between us. You’re messing with my business now.”
“Drake—”
“Mr. Nolan, do your job!” Drake snapped. He stood and walked out of his office.
I’d just admitted to Drake that I loved him in Spanish, and it didn’t matter.
Ms. Phillips gave me a smug, triumphant grin as Mr. Nolan led me to my office, where I quickly threw all of my personal things into a box. I was so humiliated by this. I couldn’t look any of my friends in the eyes, including Elaina, when I marched out of Hart Enterprises. I held my head high and stood firm in my beliefs. I certainly didn’t steal from my man.
Drake’s lack of faith in me hurt more.
That evening, Elaina called me, but I was too upset to speak to her. I cried myself to sleep that night, but my anger really set in the next morning. How could he terminate me without an investigation? I knew if he checked Ms. Phillips’ bank account, the money would have been found there. The last couple of weeks with Drake had meant nothing to him, if he could so easily dismiss me.
§
Elaina arrived at my apartment Friday evening after work, and I told her everything. She was shocked to discover I’d slept with Drake, but envious.
“You were in his home—in his bed—and had an up close and personal tour of his body? How is he…as a lover?” Elaina questioned. Her eyes grew big and shimmered with excitement.
“He is breathtaking and magnificent in the bed. The many positions and ways we did it. I’m a virgin compared to that man. Oh… and he speaks Spanish— fluently,” I bragged.
“I’ve heard Mr. Hart speaking Spanish to a client once. He speaks it well, and it sounds sexy on his tongue.”
“Elaina, I fell in love with Drake—really in love. And now this.”
“You know, I bet Ms. High and Mighty is behind all of this,” Elaina declared after she heard all of the facts.
We sat in my kitchen. I opened a bottle of Tequila, and mixed us a batch of Mango Margaritas, and soon we were well on our way to getting drunk.
“I believe it’s Ms. Phillips as well. I accused her of it, in Drake’s office,” I added, munching on a bag of pretzels. I hadn’t eaten anything today, and I already felt a buzz from the Margaritas.
“Let me do some digging at the office. She can’t get away with this, Bella.”
“No, I want you to stay out of this.”
“I could recruit Helena and get the juice on Ms. Teresa Phillips. You know she wants to get into your Drake’s pants.”
“He’s not my Drake.”
“Bella, you have to fight for your man!”
“My man accused me of stealing from him.”
“I know; but if he really believed you had stolen the money he would’ve had you arrested.”
“He humiliated me in front of everyone in the company.”
“You still love him though, Bella,” Elaina said, as she sat her glass on the cocktail table.
“Right now, I don’t know how I feel about him.”
“Give it some time.”
“Are you going to start jobhunting?”
“I’m thinking about going to visit my parents for a week, and then come back home to weigh my options. I’ll polish up my resume and begin again.”
“Yes, a getaway is just what you need to clear your mind.” Elaina started to giggle.
“What is so funny?”
“Ms. Phillips wanting to get into the boss’s pants, and you, a junior accountant, managed to get in his bed.”
“It was sweet for the time we had. I miss him already, Elaina. I know I’m drunk. Did you just hear me say I miss Drake after what he did to me?”
Elaina was giggling again; alcohol did that to her. We were both not really drinkers, but we finished off the Margaritas and I mixed up another batch.
Much later, inebriated, we ordered pizza and fell asleep on my sofa as we watched Obsessed. Before I closed my eyes, I wondered if Ms. Phillips was so deep into Drake that she would ruin my life. I wondered if she’d gotten wind of our affair.
Chapter Eight
My one-week stay with my parents turned into a month. Being surrounded by their love and good home cooking made me feel like a little girl again, but one who came home to lick her wombs. I shared what was going on in my life, with my mother. She convinced me that a man who didn’t believe in me wasn’t worth having in my life.
My parents tried to convince me to move to Detroit with them. I could look for employment and start over, but I couldn’t leave Drake just yet. A part of me was praying the truth would be revealed, and he would come knocking at my door begging for my forgiveness.
Not in this lifetime, girl!
Drake was a millionaire, and he wouldn’t fall in love or marry someone who works for him, I convinced myself. You’ve read too many romance books, and it’s time to realize sometimes dreams don’t come true.
§
I returned home a week before Christmas. My flight was uneventful. It was amazing what spending time with my parents did for me. The love my parents shared was the kind of love I wanted in my lifetime: unconditional love, respect, and a commitment between two adults.
I started to unpack my goodies. My mom and dad loaded me up with food, which I stacked in my freezer when my telephone rang.
“Bella, why did you turn off your cell phone? I’ve been calling you for weeks.”
“I needed to cut my expenses since I’m unemployed. What’s up, gurl?”
“The shit has hit the fan. That bitch, Ms. Phillips got caught in her own game. It was in the newspaper. Let me read to you what it said: ‘HART ENTERPRISES, SENIOR ACCOUNTANT, MS. PHILLIPS, HAS BEEN EMBEZZLING THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS, AND A PREVIOUS ANONYMOUS EMPLOYEE WAS TERMINATED FOR STEALING THE MONEY.’”
“What?” I sat down. My legs felt unsteady upon hearing this news.
“Drake has confirmation that you didn’t steal the money. He called me into his office and asked a lot of questions about you.”
“No shit.”
The ringing of her doorbell blocked out Elaina’s next words.
“Th
ere is someone at my door, Elaina. I’ll call you back.”
I ran to the door, wondering who would be ringing my doorbell at ten o’clock at night.
Drake stood at my apartment door with a dozen red roses in his hands. I debated whether to let him inside. My head told me not to let him in; and my heart skipped, then started to race. Drake was in my every dream, and my every waking thought. I decided to allow him in to explain.
I opened the door, and he stepped inside my humble home.
“I received your card, Bella,” Drake said, and pulled it out. “It read, and I quote, ‘To another insatiable weekend of sex—I love you, Drake.’ What I loved most was that love symbol on the back of the card. I’m ready for that weekend, or we could go away just the two of us? No—business—no computers, no cell phones, and no emails. No distractions; just us.”
“That invitation expired over a month ago, Mr. Hart!”
No, I’m sorry. I should’ve believed you, Bella. He walked into my apartment as if he hadn’t hurt me deeply. We were lovers; then he dropped me like I was a criminal.
“Bella, sweetheart.” He gave me that wicked smile of his—the one where I would willingly open my legs and let him back into my body.
“Idiota! Tonto! I don’t give a fuck what you want. Get out, Drake!” I stood before him with my hands on my hips, highly pissed off.
“Love, I agree I’m an idiot and a fool at times. You have every right to be furious with me, but let’s channel this passion in the bedroom. Where’s your bedroom, by the way? We have never made love in your home,” he smoothly added, taking a quick look at my living room. “I like the feel of this room—homey, warm and cozy. I like to see your bedroom.”
Livid, I picked up my favorite Oriental vase and threw it at Drake.
He ducked in time. My aim was so accurate that it shattered into a million pieces against my living room wall—along with the roses now scattered into petals—broken like the vase.
“Te amo,” he crooned after ducking. The vase missed him by a hair’s breath and marring his handsome face.
I countered, “You love me? You physically had me removed from your office and company!”