by S. L. Scott
With her coat open, she lets it slide down her arms. I hang it on the coat rack and watch as she sits on the loveseat. I’d follow her but I need Big Richard to calm down a bit.
Kissing. Only kissing.
Moving to my desk, I sit in the chair in front of it, keeping a safe distance from her tempting nips. I mean lips. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.”
“I think it already is,” she replies, glancing to my lap.
“Just ignore him.”
“Him?” She sits up excitedly, leaning closer. “Tell me about him. Does he have a name?”
Fuck. “Stop staring. He loves the attention. He’ll never calm down if you keep looking at him with your lips parted like that.”
When her gaze lifts to mine, she smirks. Smirks. Stolen right from my playbook kind of smirk. She has some nerve throwing it back at me. She’s a quick learner. I need to remember that. Sexpot.
Dragging her finger over her bottom lip, it pouts out just a little before she asks, “Like this? Does he like lips parted like this?” Sucking the tip of her finger into her mouth, she pulls it out. “Or like that? Which does he prefer?”
I stand abruptly and walk to the door. Opening the door, I say, “I’ll be right back.” The door is shut behind me, my back against it as I settle my racing heart and hard-on. I need a drink. “Enchantress with her tempting kisses and eager eyes,” I mumble as I walk. Whiskey. My target is in sight. I grab a glass, flip it on the bar and it lands bottom side down. I reach for the Jack Daniels and flip the bottle in the air, catching it by the neck and turning it down to fill my glass.
“Everything okay, boss?” Eddie asks.
“Nope.” I mimic Virginia’s answer from a few minutes earlier. I don’t pop the P because that would be girly. I do down the whiskey before refilling it though. “Can you bring a Paloma to the office?”
“No problem.” I walk off, but he calls out, “Hey.” I turn back. “She’s hot. You might want to take the bottle.”
“You’re right.” I grab hold of it.
“Want me to inventory that bottle?”
“Sure do.”
“On it.”
Cutting across the room, I push open the back door and wait for it. I take a deep breath and exhale before opening the office door. Virginia stands, her fingertips tucked into her pockets. “Everything okay?” she asks nervously. My insides ache just looking at her. So damn beautiful. “Does my kissing suck?”
“Fuck.” I down the shot.
“Hardy?”
I rush forward, setting the bottle down along the way. Taking hold of her, I kiss her hard, wanting her to realize her kisses are the opposite of sucking, and as someone who is a good judge of a woman’s sucking, I’d know. Then she does that little moan again and my hands slide up her ribs and I cup her breasts. Her head falls back, and exhales, “Yes. God, yes.”
“Hardy. Say it.”
“Hardy. Yes, Hardy. It feels so good with your hands on me.”
Rubbing my thumb over her nipples, the cotton between us too thin to hide the pebbling. Her neck is delicate and waiting for my mouth, which I’m more than happy to tend to. Starting at the curve of her shoulder, I lick her sweet, vanilla skin to her ear. Just as I take her earlobe between my teeth, a knock on the office door intrudes.
My body tenses just as I was starting to relax. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
I want to kick whoever’s ass it is for making me leave her like this. My dick is throbbing and answering the damn door isn’t going to help my situation. I swing it open. “What?”
Eddie’s standing there holding a drink. “Your Paloma.”
Oh. “Shit,” I start apologetically. “Sorry. Thanks.”
“It’s okay.” His eyes drift over my shoulder and an eyebrow lifts. “Let us know if you need anything else.”
“I’m good. We’re good.” I’m talking way too fast. His attention turns to me, his forehead crinkled like he’s interacting with a crazy person. I slow down, pretending I’m not horny as fuck or nervous around this woman behind me. Shrugging, I say, “Thanks for the drink.”
“Anyti—”I slam the door closed and lock it. When I turn back, I go to her. “I ordered a drink for you.”
I’m thanked with a smile before the words leave her mouth. Sultry. Salty-sweet lips. I want my mouth against hers again, staring at it when she says, “Thank you. That was nice.”
There is absolutely nothing nice about my thoughts while watching her lips wrap around that straw and suck. “Fuck me.”
Wide green eyes stare at me as I take her drink like I’m stealing candy from a kid. “What?” she asks before I realize I said fuck me out loud.
“No. Kiss me.” I don’t give her time to develop that sweet smile I know is going to crease her cheeks. I just fucking kiss her because it’s all kinds of wrong that I wasn’t kissing her already. My hands find her warm skin just under the hem of her shirt. As much as I want to slide farther up and take this dick tease of a T-shirt off her, that’s not in the lesson plan today.
Fortunately kissing, all kinds of kissing, is. Our tongues embrace just as our bodies do. I move her slowly back, her knees halted by the loveseat. “Sit down,” I say, keeping my voice low. When she does, I sit next to her. We take the moment to catch our breath.
“How am I doing?”
I shift in my jeans, the denim too tight and restraining for my erection. “You’re an incredible kisser, but practice makes perfect.” I lean over and kiss her. She leans back, fisting my shirt and bringing me with her. Lean legs spread and I take up residence. I could dry hump the hell out of her right now, but that’s not on tonight’s agenda.
Her mouth is warm and welcoming matching how I feel between her legs. Fuck. I push off the arm of the loveseat on either side of her head and sit back staring down at her. “You can’t be like this.”
Lifting up on her elbows, she looks confused. “Like what?”
“This.” I wave my hand over her body. “No way you’re still a virgin.”
She laughs, and relaxes back, resting her hands behind her head. “I told you I’ve made out before. I’m not new to all of it. Just the final deed. But I’m out of practice. I haven’t had a boyfriend since college. I’ve had dates, dates that were duds. I don’t want dud dates. I want Lowry.”All of me, everything from my lungs to my heart deflate under the mention of his name. Asshole. “What makes him so special? Trust me, V. You can get any guy you want. Why waste your energy and your virginity on him?”
“Because I can’t get him.”
“So it’s a challenge, an ego thing?”
“No, not at all. I just want to be one of those girls that Lowry Renquist would be interested in.” She sits up, her feet landing back on the floor. “Anyway, he might not be getting my virginity.” She turns to me, a glimmer of hope reflecting in her eyes. “I was hoping that would be the final lesson with you.”
“C’mere.” She moves over and rests her head on my shoulder when I drape my arm around her. “I thought I was teaching you to get his attention.”
Fingertips fidget with a button on my shirt before slipping just inside and scraping lightly with her nails. Big Richard reacts. Naturally. I take hold of her hand, stilling it. She looks up at me. “The women he dates are not virgins who fumble around the bedroom. They know how to please him.” Her eyes lower, her gaze fixating on that button again. “I want to know how to please him.”
I release her hand and lift her chin. When I see the sadness in her eyes, I say, “He doesn’t deserve you. You know that, right?”
“I do. But I’ve been holding onto my virginity like it’s a bargaining chip. It’s not worth anything if I’m spending my life alone. I was always told not to settle, but I’m twenty-four and alone. Sure, I didn’t settle but it came at the cost of not experiencing a real relationship at all. I don’t want to be twenty-five and alone, so I’m willing to cash my chip in for the greate
r good. I want him to find me irresistible.”
Her sadness seeps into me, hitting my heart. This is what men have done to her. “We’re fucking jerks, Virginia. If they don’t find value in you, you’ve got to find it in yourself.”
“I’m not blind. I know on the outside I’m not the same girl in that photo, but on the inside, I’m still unsteady with this.”
Eyeing her, admiring those perky tits she’s so determined to unflatter under her business clothes. “So you hide it?”
She slides to the side, facing me while bending her leg in front of her. “I can tell you don’t like the suits, but that’s what is expected of me at work. There’s a dress code.”
“Let me ask you something. This Lowry guy, has he hooked up with women in the office?”
“Yes,” she says with an added nod.
“What are they wearing?”
“Oh God,” she starts, an eye roll punctuating her feelings on the topic. “I don’t even know how they walk in those skirts. They’re so tight and their heels are ridiculously high.”
“Two things—you said they as in plural. So he’s fucking or has fucked several women in your office?”
She just nods this time. “Flirts with them, but not slept with any or at least the rumors say he hasn’t.”
“Secondly, why can they dress like that and you can’t?”
“I’m in a different department. I’m the only woman in that department with six men. We wear suits.”
“But it’s not in the dress code officially.” Narrowing my eyes as I follow my own breadcrumbs to my final point. “You’re choosing to fit in with the men.” Totally judging, I look at her with my lips off to the side.
I think she’s starting to follow my thinking. She smiles and sighs. “I see what you’re saying. It’s me, not them. And not Lowry.”
“Do you have a game plan? Are you just gonna show up to work one morning and jump him in the elevator or what?”
“New Year’s Eve. Our company throws a holiday party on New Year’s at the Waldorf-Astoria.”
I feel sick to my stomach. “You want to kiss him at midnight on New Year’s?”
Her excitement grows. “No, I want to seduce him at midnight on New Year’s. Any advice?”
She’s doing this no matter what I say, so I give her honesty. “You have the power to get his attention, even though I still don’t know why you want it. The bottom line is, you’re not using your gifts.”
“And by gifts, you mean?”
“Body. Those other women are giving him something to look at.”
“I’m not using my body.” She taps her chin. “Very good point, Hardy.”
I hate leading a horse to water that’s contaminated, but she’s determined to drink from that trough no matter what I do. So that leaves me two choices: Help her win her man by giving her the skills to attract that asshole or let her fumble into his bed and give him a gift he doesn’t deserve.
There really is no decision to be made. She trusts me. As much as I want to wisen her up on the ways of the world when it comes to men, I need to protect her more. If that means making love to her like she deserves, I guess I’m the luckiest bastard that ever lived.
Chapter Eleven
My hip is swatted, a towel cracking loudly against my jeans. A bird is flipped off to the side it came from before I even give the culprit a glance. “Fuck you, Clive.”
While I continue to stare at Virginia, he asks, “How long are you going to ogle her? Cuz it’s just past pathetic o’clock and heading toward creepy by my watch.”
Looking down at the stainless steel Omega that shines on my wrist, I reply, “I’ve got a good ten minutes before I reach cat five creepiness.”
“That’s disastrous.”
“And like you said, leaning toward pathetic.”
“I said it’s past pathetic.”
I turn my back to her though it’s against my better judgment to do so when that fucker in a Member’s Only jacket is hanging on her every word and staring at her tits. And she’s braless. Fuck me. My hands tighten around the knife I’m supposed to be using to cut oranges, my knuckles whitening under the pressure.
Being patted on the back, Clive says, “Those feelings will get ya every time.”
“I’m not having feelings.” Though I’m feeling I might kill this jackass in the jacket fawning all over her. One touch and he’s going to lose a hand.
“Surrre you aren’t.” Clive reaches around and takes the knife from my hand. “I think it’s safer if I take this away.”
“For me or him?”
“Both.” He laughs, and then nods toward Virginia. “You’ve known her for like what? A week?”
“Something like that.”
“Wow. She must be really special for this insta-love you’ve got going on.”
Scoffing, my head jerks back. “I’m not in love and there’s no such thing as insta-love.” Is there? I see Clive checking her out. “Hey, eyes over here.”
He shakes his head. “See? I wasn’t even looking at her and you’ve got your boxers all up your ass.” Coming closer, he leans on the counter next to me and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not saying you’re in love, but those two rules you live by when it comes to women . . .” His hands make an explosion hand gesture. “Have been obliterated.”
“No way.” I’m the one shaking my head this time, denial clearly setting in. I look back at Virginia. Her drink is empty, her tits perfect, and Members Only jackass has moved in. I’m there before he can offer her another drink. “Can I get you a refill?”
She smiles when she sees me; nothing like the expression of boredom she was giving that chump. “Thanks, Hardy. Maybe one more, but only if you can drink with me.”
“I want to, but Eddie had to leave and I’m covering.”
Checking her phone, she debates. “Maybe I should head home too. I have a long ride back and an ear—”
“Early morning?”
She laughs. “Yes, something like that.”
When she gets off the stool, Members Only panics—a lot like I’m doing—and says, “Maybe we can hang out sometime? Or go for coffee?”
Her gaze hits mine. “Um . . .”
I step in. “Hey buddy, we’re kind of seeing each other, so if you don’t mind . . .”
Hands are up in surrender as he backs away. “Oh, man, sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s new.” I look back at her. “And going well.”
He slaps a twenty down on the bar. “This should cover my drinks. Good luck to the both of you.”
Virginia is laughing. “Thanks.” When she turns back to me, she says, “Do I detect a hint of jealousy in your actions? Or just helping a girl out?”
“Maybe both. Definitely both.”
Resting her elbows on the bar, she leans closer, and says, “I feel the same about you. That’s how I know it’s time to go. I know you don’t want that line crossed and it’s too easy for me to fall for your cute—”
“Ass?”
“I was going to say charms, but ass works too. When’s our third lesson?”
“Saturday night?”
“Yes, it will almost be like having a date.”
Yeah . . . almost. I sigh. “Your place or mine?”
She swings her coat around her and slips her arms inside. When she reaches for the zipper, Chopin’s “Funeral March” begins playing as sadness consumes me watching the girls disappear. They were definitely a highlight of my night. “How about mine? If you’re free all night we can have dinner out and then go back to mine for the lesson?”
“Sounds good. I’ll text you with details.”
Happiness covers her face. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“So am I.” I walk around to walk her out.
“I need to pay out.”
“When you’re here, I buy.”
She nudges me in the side. “You know the way to a woman’s heart.”
Suddenly feeling like I don’t know
women at all, I just nod while looking down at my feet. “Yeah, I’m the expert.” Except when it comes to her. We head for the door and I throw my arm out for a cab. She has her hands in her pockets. When a cab pulls to the curb, I signal one minute. Turning to Virginia, I lift her hood up, protecting her from the cold. The tip of her nose is already pink, so I kiss it. Any excuse really. “Be safe and text me when you get home. Okay?”
She nods. “I will.” Moving closer, she lifts up and kisses my cheek. “Thank you for earlier.”
“My pleasure.” Literally.
“Have a good week.”
“You too.”
She dashes to the taxi and gets in the back. I do the universal sign for roll down the window to the driver like they actually hand crank down these days. I hand him plenty of money to cover her fare and his tip. “Take care of her and drive safely.” Looking back at her, I feel sadness for a different reason other than her boobs being hidden from view, but I don’t dare admit it. Instead, I cover, something I’ve gotten too good at doing lately. “When you’re not around me, wear a bra. It draws unsavory attention from men when you don’t.”
She starts laughing. I know she sees right through me though she’s nice enough to play along. “Okay, Hardy. Good night.”
“Good night.” I back away and watch the cab leave. This is becoming a habit I don’t like. Her leaving.
Insta-love, whatever that is. It’s a bunch of phooey is what it is. Watching her cab drive away, I think next time I’ll ask her to stay.
* * *
By Thursday, I miss Virginia. We exchanged a few casual texts over the last few days—hi, hope your day is going well, sweet dreams, and that kind of thing. But then one night she sends my favorite: Thinking about you. Along with the text, she sends a photo of herself in a bubble bath. I can’t see her face as the camera is facing the other direction. Look, I’m not saying she sent it to get a rise out of me, but I rise to the occasion no problem and jack off twice to that photo in two days.
I’m not embarrassed to admit that I did the deed with her photo next to me. I’m embarrassed that I did the deed with only her knee poking through the bubbles. That’s it. One bare, wet, lustful, tempting and teasing kneecap. Damn that’s a sexy photo. There might be something to this insta-love theory. Though I’m leaning more toward a chemical imbalance. Holding the bottle of pills up from five feet or so away, I ask the guy behind the register, “What do these do?”