by ANDREA SMITH
Finally hitting my limit, and once again brought to brink of what would probably be the most violent and delicious orgasm of my life... I began to beg.
“Please...” I said, breathlessly. “Please, Easton. Let me...”
“Are you ready to come, Bianca?”
“Yes.” Another moan trembled on my lips.
That’s when I felt his hands rest on either side of my body, and I was thinking that meant he was about to bring it home.
“Yes, Easton” I murmured, licking my lips. “Please.”
I felt him pull back in momentum. And then pull out completely.
“No,” he said, bringing my attention to his face. It was expressionless. He reached for the keys and released my arms, and quickly unfastened my ankles from their binds. I felt tears begin to drown my eyelashes as he re-fastened his pants around his hips. His hands were shaking. And then I watched as he left, never once looking at me.
The last thing I remembered about that night was the sobs that raked my body after I heard the door slam shut. I curled up into a ball and cried, never once thinking about bringing myself to release.
This was my fault.
All thoughts of sleeping in a bit the next morning were quashed when my alarm went off at eight a.m.
What the hell?
I was positive I'd set it for ten-thirty the previous night. Of course, anything was possible in this creaky old mansion of Easton's. I stretched my arms outside of the bed covers, interlocking my fingers on both hands, stifling a yawn. And then it hit me. The events of the previous night.
Maybe I dreamt it. No such fucking luck . . .
How in the hell was I going to face Easton today after what had happened last night? He'd freakin' played me like a finely-tuned instrument, strumming my body with his expert tongue, fingers and cock, drawing the sensual chords out of me as if he'd written the music himself. He'd purposefully brought my body to the peak of what should've been an explosive crescendo. However, with expert timing his deceptive cadence had served to punish me with the pain of unfulfilled pleasure, leaving me gasping for elusive fulfillment and left with empty dissonance after his cruel departure.
Well done, maestro!
There was a soft knock on the bedroom door. God I hoped it wasn't him. He was likely proud of the fact he'd totally tortured me without leaving a mark last night.
"Yes?" I called out.
"Ms. Sheridan? It's Anna. May I come in?"
"Of course," I called out now out of bed and slipping a robe around my naked body.
She gave me a pleasant smile as she carried a tray in with coffee and juice.
"Mr. Matthews wanted to make sure I brought you something before breakfast is served," she said, setting the silver tray down on my nightstand. "Also, he left this note for you," she added, handing me a folded piece of paper.
"He's not here?" I asked, feeling some relief wash over me.
"He left earlier to attend to some business in the city. He'll be meeting you later. Can I get you anything else?"
"Uh, no. Thanks," I replied, not wanting to read the note in front of her though I suspected she already knew what it said.
"Very good," she replied. "I'll have your breakfast ready in an hour."
"Don't go to any trouble, Anna," I called after her. "I'm not really very hungry this morning. Maybe just a bagel?"
"Of course, Miss."
As soon as she shut the door behind her I read Easton's note:
Darcy,
I've business elsewhere so I'll be meeting you separately at the Procurement Contracts Centre downtown. I've arranged for a car to pick you up at 1:30 p.m.
You've an appointment at 10:00 a.m. this morning at the salon to have your hair changed back to its original colour and style. Geoffrey has a picture. He'll be the one colouring and styling your hair. Please be conservative with the face paint. I've removed your eye shadows, liner, and mascara. Stick with a basic foundation and add a hint of bronzer for colour if you must. Your lashes are fine naturally. I'll trust you to select the appropriate business attire from your wardrobe for this meeting.
- Easton
I tossed the paper onto the bed.
He's off the fucking charts!
Despite my reluctance to follow his commands, my better judgment ruled. He was the boss, he had been tasked with mentoring me into a leadership position and I had promised myself that I'd comply where it was beneficial for my career. I needed to look at this as an opportunity to learn. It was my very first pitch and I needed to focus on doing it well.
At 1:30 p.m., my hair back to its original color and style, my make-up toned down per Easton's instructions and my business attire conservative yet professional, a limo arrived to drive me into London for the meeting. I'd checked and re-checked my briefcase to ensure I had all of the hand-outs, slides, and reference material I'd need and then some. My only fear was at the end of the presentation where the agenda allowed for a Q & A period.
What if they asked something I couldn't answer?
Once we arrived, I immediately saw Easton standing at the bottom of the concrete steps of the building, glancing at his watch before seeing the limo pull up. He helped me from the car, checking my hair, make-up and attire. It appeared as though I'd passed inspection. There was still an uncomfortable vibe between us - at least I was feeling it. I was avoiding making eye contact with him.
"You remembered to turn off your mobile, yeah?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied, walking up the steps next to him.
"Don't be nervous and make plenty of eye contact with various people in the audience," he instructed. "When it comes time for questions, I'll be up front with you to assist with that."
I nodded silently.
"Darcy," he continued as he opened the door for me, "I've utmost confidence in you. You've done a great job preparing. My instincts tell me you'll be successful in securing this renewal."
That's probably the nicest thing he's ever said to me!
I looked up at him, finally making eye contact. "Thank you. It means a lot to me to hear you say that. I promise I'll do my very best."
The presentation went without a hitch. Easton and I were out of there by 4:30 where his limo was waiting. Once inside, he praised me for the great job I'd done presenting.
"I guess I had a pretty great mentor," I replied, shrugging slightly.
Oh yeah. This situation is starting to be a whole hell of a lot uncomfy!’
"Shall we celebrate victory early?" he asked.
"Isn't that bad luck?" I asked, puzzled.
"In this case, I'm willing to take the risk, Ms. Sheridan. I've texted Colin and he's meeting us as well since he's played a large part in your training."
He instructed the driver to take us to a quaint pub not far from his estate. Colin was already seated with a mug of dark ale in front of him. The table was near a stone fireplace that had a fire crackling, taking the chill off the large room. Everything inside was made of stone: the floors, the walls, the ceiling. Even the long bar was made of granite.
"This place looks like it was carved out of a giant boulder," I commented wryly.
Easton laughed genuinely, his dimple showing. "Actually this pub has been around for more than 150 years," he said. "There used to be a working quarry nearby that employed a lot of laborers that mined in this area. This was their field office. After it closed up in the 1860's the landowner converted it into a pub for weary travelers."
"You know a little about everything, don't you?" I asked, impressed. "It must be that European education."
Colin chuckled good-naturedly at my assessment. I saw a slight frown cross Easton's features, not liking the semi-smart-ass comment.
Blessedly, the bartender came over and took our orders. Easton talked me into trying their dark ale, promising it did not taste like the beer I was used to in the States."
"I'm not a big fan of beer anywhere," I said.
"Just give it a try," he coaxed.
At
this point I would've downed some rubbing alcohol - anything to get me to unwind and not feel so fucking awkward around Easton. I hated that he once again had the upper hand.
Surprisingly, I did enjoy the dark ale and it served the purpose of settling my nerves as the feeling of relaxation seeped in. I found myself talking easily to Colin, filling in the details when he asked about the presentation. Both Easton and I had an enjoyable time at the pub, rehashing our afternoon spent at Scotland Yard.
"When will we know about the renewal?" I asked.
"Within thirty days," he replied. "If not sooner."
"What's next on our agenda?"
He quirked an eyebrow at me.
"I mean for the rest of this weekend," I replied, fumbling for words and feeling my face warm with a blush. "Colin and I fly out on Monday. I brought my laptop so I can work from your estate over the weekend and catch up, or if you've any special projects requiring my assistance I'd be happy to help."
Okay . . . they're both watching me ramble on here . . .
Easton cleared his throat. "Darcy it's the weekend. You can relax," he said, then turned to Colin.
"Would you and Ronnie like to have dinner at the manor this evening?" he asked.
"Sorry, mate," Colin replied with a smile. "She's made plans for us this evening. How about we get together tomorrow night for dinner and clubbing though? I'm sure Darcy would enjoy seeing some of London's newer night spots. Ronnie's been nagging me to take her to some new club that recently opened."
"Sounds like a plan," Easton replied, glancing over at me as I drained the last of my ale. "Darcy? Are you up for that?"
"Yeah, sure." I lied.
"I know you and Ronnie will get on well," Colin assured me with a wink. "Speaking of which, I'd better head out. So until tomorrow then?"
"Cheers," Easton said, raising his mug.
"See you, Colin," I said, wishing he would've stayed longer.
Once we arrived back at the manor, I told Easton I was going to go up and change into something more comfortable. Easton was already pre-occupied with reading his mail on the table in the entry hall.
Aaaaaand... dis-fucking-missed!
I'd decided once I was in the comfort of my suite I wasn't going back downstairs. I made a conscious effort to lock the door to my room. I wasn't all that hungry so I showered again for relaxation purposes and threw on a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. I climbed up onto my bed and flicked the remote of the wide-screen television that I'd found in the drawer of my nightstand which I'd since realized controlled the flat-screen television hidden beneath the closed cabinet doors of the huge armoire across from my massive bed.
I was settled in comfortably when there was tapping on my door.
"What?" I called out. Probably Anna wanting to know what she could bring me for dinner.
"It's me," I heard Easton's voice on the other side.
"Yeah? What can I do for you?" I called out.
"Are you coming down for dinner?" he asked behind the closed door.
"Not hungry," I called out. "I'm in for the night."
"I've got pizza coming."
What the fuck?
"Why?" I called out, confused.
"The staff's gone for the night. I don't cook and I thought you might be hungry."
Okay, so even though I could totally get onboard for taking the blame for last night’s... adventures, I couldn’t help getting a little peeved at the fact that he was trying to be all nonchalant about it. At the meeting for the presentation? Sure, I mean, that’s our work place. But I didn’t know how to act around the guy when the doors were closed, and when we had an entire house pretty much to ourselves.
"What toppings?" I asked cockily. I didn’t want him to think I was up here sulking or trying to figure out how to tie knots better than he did or anything.
"Pepperoni and mushrooms," he replied. "That's your choice of toppings, right?"
Fuck it, I thought. Apparently tonight was about extending the olive branch. And when in Rome...Eat pizza, apparently.
"Sometimes I like olives on it as well," I called out, "I'll be down in a couple."
I jumped out of the bed and went into the bathroom, brushing my teeth, brushing my hair out, and dabbing a touch more eye make-up on.
It was subtle, okay?
By the time I got downstairs into the study where Easton's flat screen was located I saw that he had plates, napkins and wine glasses out filled to the brim with either Merlot or Cab-Sav waiting. Just as I entered the room, I heard the "Gong" of his doorbell. Several minutes later he returned with the large, flat box that held our hot pizza.
"Okay I have to ask. Do you mean to tell me you have pizza delivery clear out here?"
"Of course not," he said, helping himself to a slice of pepperoni and mushroom pizza. "I had my driver pick it up."
"Well that's kind of extravagant, isn't it?"
He shrugged, taking a bite of pizza. "I enjoyed our pizza party together that night. I guess I just wanted it to be my treat this time," he replied.
I'd lied, I was thoroughly hungry, wolfing down a couple of pieces before I realized Easton was watching me with a hint of amusement in his eyes.
Oh God! Here comes that feeling of embarrassment again from last night.
"What?" I asked, wiping my mouth of the pizza sauce.
"Well - I just wanted to let you know that I checked the schedule on the television tonight and there's some sort of Bela Lugosi triple feature if you'd care to watch it," he offered.
"Which ones?" I asked, perking up.
"Murders in the Rue Morgue, Night of Terror, and Mark of the Vampire."
"Really? Those are my favorites," I shifted uneasily, unsure as to whether he'd mentioned this so we could watch them together, or was simply letting me know so I'd have something to watch in my room later so I'd be out of his site. I wasn't looking to step on another humiliating land mine.
"They start in about ten minutes," he remarked. "I was going to stoke the fire and watch them in here. You're welcome to join me."
Thank God! Humiliation averted!
"Yeah, okay," I replied, "I probably won't be able to stay awake for all three though."
I got up from the sofa and started toward the main hallway.
"Where are you going?" Easton called out after me.
"Got to get a pillow and blanket," I called back. "It's not vegging out without those two things."
I heard him chuckle as I made my way towards the staircase. At least things were starting to be a bit less uncomfortable. What happened last night wouldn't happen again. It hung over us like a pall and I wanted to be rid of it.
As predicted I did fall asleep during the beginning of the third movie, sprawled on the loveseat across from Easton. I awoke with a start to the loud clap of thunder that rattled the leaded glass windows in the darkened room.
"We've a line a thunderstorms rolling in," Easton remarked, seeing I was awake. "It's fairly common this time of year. You probably need to get some sleep."
"Yeah, right," I scoffed. "That's not going to happen easily with thunderstorms coming in." I gathered up my blanket and pillow, stretching as Easton turned the movie off with the remote. I'd no sooner started towards the hallway when a brilliant flash of light illuminated the room, seconds later the loud boom of thunder followed causing me to jump and let out a squeak of discomfort.
"Are you frightened of storms?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"I used to love watching them as a child," I admitted, "until the time lightning struck a tree and a huge limb crashed through my bedroom window. Not so much after that."
He was beside me now, watching me carefully. "You've no need to worry. I promise nothing will come crashing through your windows here."
Once we'd reached the top of the stairs, Easton stopped and turned to me. "Have a restful night, Darcy. If you need anything my suite is just down this hallway," he said, nodding to the left.
"Thanks," I murmured feeling flush
ed. The thunderous boom of the latest bolt of lightning sent me skittering to the right to find comfort beneath the covers of my bed. I finally managed to fall back asleep as the storm passed over.
Sometime later I was once again awakened by angry claps of thunder rattling the windows in my suite unmercifully. I let out a low screech, sitting upright immediately, forgetting for the moment where I was. My heart was pounding in my chest. Torrents of rain were splashing furiously against the windows. The wind was howling through the old stone fortress and suddenly I felt as if I'd been transitioned back in time to one of those old horror movies myself.
I stared at the closed, solid oak door, bringing the bed covers up underneath my chin. My eyes were glued on the polished brass door knob, watching and waiting for it to slowly turn with a barely audible squeak that would alert me someone was lurking behind it preparing to pounce on me. Just as that thought finished, a blinding flash of lightening illuminated the room and a thunderous clap of thunder followed behind. I let out a scream that rivaled that of the chick from Bride of Frankenstein.
Shit Darcy! Get hold of yourself, girl.
I clapped my hand over my own mouth to keep myself quiet as the storm continued its rampage outside. Just then I did hear the squeak of the door knob, I saw it turn slowly as the door creaked open. I let loose with another scream not giving a damn who in the hell heard me!
"Darcy," Easton said softly, swiftly crossing the distance to my bed, looking pretty damn fine in his low slung P.J. bottoms and white tee, "I heard you scream from down the hall. Are you alright?"
"I'm sorry," I gasped, shaking my head. "I guess those movies we watched and these thunderstorms rattling outside set me off. I didn't mean to wake you, Easton."
"You didn't," he said smiling. "I was still up reading. Storms like this make it tough for anyone to sleep. Just keep telling yourself it will pass over, they always do, right?"
He was trying to ease my mind. It was actually kind of sweet. Another flash of lightning streaked through the windows and what sounded like a dynamite explosion complete with a popping sound followed. The light from the hallway flickered a couple of times and then went out, along with the lamp I'd left on in the sitting room. I muffled another scream, diving under the covers.