by Marni Mann
I swept my fingers through the layers of my hair and glanced at the dress. Maybe I’d wear my hair up for the party, to show off my shoulders, with a dark smoky eye shadow and a lip color that had a bit of pop. Reed loved when I wore it down and straight…maybe that meant I should curl my locks into beach waves instead.
I wondered what Derek’s preference was.
“Sorry, I’m going to have to call you back,” Brea said from somewhere outside my door. Her voice changed. “Who are you looking for?”
“Frankie Jordan,” a man replied.
“Frankie’s office is right in there. Please follow me,” she told him. “Frankie, we’re coming in with a delivery. A big one.”
The delivery man placed two massive bouquets on the shelf in front of the windows. He placed a case of wine next to them.
“Sign here, please.”
I scribbled my name across the screen of his tablet and watched Brea walk across the room, picking up the card that stuck out of the first bouquet. “It’s for me.” With the biggest smile, she started reading out loud, “I really look forward to working with you, Brea. Welcome to the team.” She used the card to fan her blushing cheeks. “It’s from Derek.” She removed the second card and handed it to me.
You were meant for this job.
—Derek
“I told you,” she said, reading the inscription over my shoulder. “Big hands, big bouquets…big everything, I bet.”
I finally looked up. “He hasn’t even signed the contract yet.”
“It looks like he has in his mind.” She walked back to the shelf and pulled out one of the bottles. “This is the same wine we drank at the restaurant. He must have asked the waiter what he had served us, or checked the bottles we left on the table…observant and thoughtful.”
Derek didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would send gifts unless he was certain I would like it. The flowers were a good guess. The arrangement was at least four feet high, with the most exotic buds blooming in all different shades of pink. Some were as deep as rose, and others as bright as neon. The vase was made of mosaic glass in the same colors. Brea’s was just as stunning, but in varied tones of blue.
“Blue’s my favorite color,” she said. ”He doesn’t know that, right? This is just a coincidence?”
Pink wasn’t my favorite. Still, there had to be a reason he had chosen those colors. I wondered what it was. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“You think he’s that good?”
“I think it’s possible.” He might have been the most casually-dressed man I knew, his wardrobe and grooming not at all meshing with the detail-oriented nature of his personality. But his demeanor wasn’t casual at all, and his stare radiated intensity. I’d never been handcuffed or spanked, but when he spoke, when his gaze traveled over my body, I felt like he was doing both, with his mouth…with his eyes.
“Good God,” Brea clucked. “He’s even more perfect than I thought.” She cupped her hands around a flower that looked like a tail jetting out of two rounded cheeks. “If you need me,” she said, leaving with her bouquet in her arms, “I’ll be writing Derek a long thank you note.”
I needed to do the same.
TWELVE.
DEREK
WILL FORWARDED ME the email confirmation from Back Bay Courier, the delivery company he had hired. A digital image of Frankie’s signature showed at the bottom of the screen. Brea’s thank you note came in right behind it. She was a sweet girl, a perfect assistant for Frankie; her direct personality offset her boss’s conservative one.
The flowers were a safe gift. A large bouquet for a generous contract that would make her smile, but not ostentatious to the point of turning her off. They weren’t personal, but the wine was. That turned out to be a more challenging purchase. It had taken a few hundred dollars before Will was able to persuade the restaurant’s manager to look up her bill.
She was worth it.
She was worth a lot more than that. And I would give her more—silk and lace lingerie that would bind that savory body, heels that would frame those delicate feet. But those wouldn’t come until later, not until a majority of the units were sold or at least under contract. That gave me the chance to take my time with her. To encourage that slow desire to build within her, her cheeks a permanent flush from the continuous attention I would give her. It wouldn’t be long before she’d be begging for me.
Then once I knew she was ready, when my dick throbbed to be milked by that snug pussy, I would have her. It would only be one night, that’s all I’d allow, but it would be exactly how I envisioned it: the setting, the lighting, what she’d wear…or not wear. I would control the fantasy and part of that was ensuring every single one of her needs would be met. Not just met—exceeded. She’d be trembling from the intensity of the countless orgasms I’d give her, from so much satisfaction happening between her legs. She wouldn’t be able to hold them open when I was finished.
My computer chimed, shaking the image of Frankie’s smooth, soft cunt from my mind. It was an email…with her name on it.
FROM: Jordan, Frankie
TO: Block, Derek
SENT: April 19, 2:07pm
SUBJECT: Thank You
Derek,
The flowers are really, really beautiful. I’ve never seen anything quite like them. Thank you, and thank you for the wine as well. The pinot noir you sent is one of my favorites…I suspect you know that already. It’s all too much, really, but most definitely appreciated.
I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve made my day again.
-Frankie
It had been two hours since she had received the delivery. Frankie wasn’t as hasty as Brea. She was careful, her response well–crafted and thought out.
We hadn’t even started yet, but it was too tempting not to try to warm her, inspire that slow desire from a distance.
FROM: Block, Derek
TO: Jordan, Frankie
SENT: April 19, 2:11pm
SUBJECT: Does that mean...
You’ve changed your mind about dinner tomorrow night?
FROM: Jordan, Frankie
TO: Block, Derek
SENT: April 19, 2:13pm
SUBJECT: Unfortunately, no.
Ordinarily, I’d be having dinner with you, as my clients always take precedence over social functions. Considering that it’s an industry party, it’s much different from most, and the only reason I’m making this exception. I promise. We’re on for the following night. Should I pick the place?
-Frankie
P.S.: The extra night does give me a little more time to plan—and I’ll need the time, if we’re going to break Boston records ;-)
She didn’t cave and that made me want her even more. And that wink? I fucking loved when she flirted with me.
FROM: Block, Derek
TO: Jordan, Frankie
SENT: April 19, 2:16pm
SUBJECT: Dinner.
I like your promises. I’ll pick you up at your office at 8:00 pm.
THIRTEEN.
FRANKIE
I LOOKED UP from the middle of the mattress and reached for the pillow that was several feet from my head, dragging it toward me and tucking it under my chin. I needed something to hold, to clutch and grab, to share this exquisite pleasure with. With what had to be more than one-hundred-seventy-five pounds of solid, hard weight on my back, breathing wasn’t easy. It didn’t matter. All that was coming from my mouth were gasps and moans.
And they came, rapidly.
His slick hardness moved in and out, quickly during certain beats, slow and teasing during others. He filled me, completely. His size was more than I was used to, which only escalated my sensitivity. I didn’t know how Reed had widened and lengthened so much since the last time we’d had sex, but my body appreciated every one of his long, deep strokes, every twist of his hips, every sudden jerk when he dragged out to the very tip and glided back in again.
My orgasm threatened to peak. I didn’t think I c
ould hold it for much longer.
But then he suddenly shifted positions, changing his rhythm, and the build had to start from the beginning again. I was on my knees now, my fingers digging into the bed to keep me steady. With my ass tilted higher in the air, he felt even bigger, fuller. It was his size that kept me from breathing freely now, and the depth he was able to reach.
He leaned forward and squeezed my nipple, and a scream escaped my lips, though it wasn’t from pain. Surprisingly, I liked how it felt. A tingling spread over my breast before he yanked it again. Then he moved to the other one, doing the same, but twisting even more this time.
“You’re so tight,” he said. I bit my bottom lip. “And so fucking wet.” Goosebumps rose over my skin from the sound of his voice.
His voice?
His voice was deeper…rawer than Reed’s.
Not Reed…
I glanced over my shoulder and stopped. He was licking my back…his scruff was so rough on my skin. Scruff I knew belonged to Derek.
“Your skin tastes as good as your pussy.” He dragged more of his coarse stubble over me, then wrapped his hand around my hair and pulled me up.
My back slammed against his hard chest. “Derek…”
His mouth heated the outside of my ear. “Do you like my cock inside you?” I tried to pull away, but he stopped me. “Answer me.” His hips rocked forward again, sending him even deeper.
I couldn’t stop the gasp that came out of me. “Yes.”
“Say it louder.”
“Yes,” I yelled. “I like your cock inside of me.”
His hand dove between my legs, circling my clit at the same speed with which he was grinding into me. “Every time you see me,” he growled, “I want you to think about how good it feels when I’m fucking you.”
My orgasm was so close. “Derek, I…” The build was spreading through my navel, up my chest and down my thighs. I tilted my hips to meet him with each stroke.
“Tell me you’ll do that, Frankie.”
My eyes closed. “I…will.”
“Good girl.” His hips slowed; his fingers paused. “It’s not time for you to come yet.”
“Please,” I begged. I pushed against his hand, trying to give my clit some friction as I shifted my hips to ride his dick. “I need to come.”
“I can feel how badly you need it.” His teeth nipped along the side of my neck. “But you’re going to have to wait.” He pulled out of me completely, his hand vanishing from my cleft, the heat from his body dissipating.
“No!” I shouted, the sound of my voice caused my eyes to burst open. Sunlight trickled into my room, showing that the sheets and blanket had fallen to the floor. I lay in the middle of the mattress, a thick layer of sweat covered my skin. My own two fingers were buried deep inside me.
I closed my eyes again to finish what Derek had started. I didn’t have to search my mind for a fantasy. His face was there, in the darkness, his eyes piercing me, and his dick fucking me ravenously.
***
I sat in a chair in the living room while one girl curled my hair and another touched up my blush. They’d been primping me for over an hour so I knew the time was getting close. Really close, especially when the phone next to my condo door began to ring. It was a line solely dedicated for building related matters—the security system, emergency callbox, how the personnel downstairs notified me when a visitor arrived. I stared at the handset like it was my enemy.
“Zack must be here,” Brea said, rushing over to answer it.
Now that my date had arrived, there was nothing stopping me from going to the Brokers Ball…the same place Reed was going to be.
I took a gulp of wine…then another.
Then I drained the rest of my glass.
Reed Reynolds was the top mortgage broker in the city. We’d worked together many times in the year since our break-up, sharing clients, attending the same closings, referring each other business. In all that time, we’d never been in a social setting that gave us space to talk about anything other than business. I knew that could easily change at the ball.
“Okay,” Brea said into the phone. “Please send him up.” She moved back over to me and poured a shot worth of wine into my glass. It was one of the bottles Derek had sent us. I’d given half the case to her and kept the rest. “Slam it, will ya? He’s going to be here in a second.”
“It tastes too good to—”
“Slam it. You need it. Trust me on this.”
She was right. I’d been on edge all day, my anxiety getting worse when she and the team of girls had arrived to do my prep work. I tilted my head back and tried to keep the glass from smudging my lips.
“Perfect, now close your eyes,” she said. “They’re almost done.”
More gloss was added and something was sprayed over my eyelids. Someone stuck a pin into my hair and misted perfume over my chest and behind my ears.
“You can open your eyes now,” she said.
One of the girls had brought a full-length mirror and had rested it against the back of the couch. Brea stood next to it, a smile filled her face. “Ladies, I’m in awe at what you’ve done here. Frankie, come look. You’re going to be very impressed.”
None of the women who had helped me get ready had allowed me to see their progress. I had no idea what colors they had used on my face or how much of my hair they had curled or waved…until now. “Wow.”
“I know,” she said. “You’re always a hottie, but tonight even more so.”
I inched closer to the mirror. Thick black liner framed my eyes, darkening my irises to gray now that they were accented with the light and dark silver shadow. The red lip stain matched my shoes and clutch. My nails had been painted black. The middle section of my hair had been clipped up and puffed above my forehead, the rest fell in smooth waves over my bare shoulders and down my back.
“They did an amazing job,” I said as I looked up to appreciate the women. They smiled back at me. “But…I feel naked.” There had been some changes made to the dress after Brea and I had stopped by the designer’s studio for a fitting the night before, and they were changes I hadn’t asked for. The V that cut in between my chest plunged down even farther, the fabric that hugged the sides of my breasts was pushing them closer together, and the bottom hem had been taken up a few inches. The result was much more cleavage and thighs.
Brea was always trying to get me to show more of my body. I had a feeling she had requested these alterations especially for that purpose.
I worked hard for my lean frame and wasn’t opposed to revealing some skin. But I was leery of how much I showed, where and when. Work monopolized my mind; my father’s conservative approach echoed inside it. I would be attending what was, for all intents and purposes, a business event, so was displaying this much cleavage and leg really appropriate for tonight?
“Stop it,” Brea said, standing behind me, staring at the same reflection. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not too much. I promise.”
“I don’t know.”
She rested her hands on my shoulders and turned me around to face her. We were usually the same height, our five-seven frames always equal in our heels. But tonight I towered over her as she wore flats. “You have reservations, and I know why, but you need to let those go tonight. I want you to show Reed how badly he fucked up and what he lost because…” She stopped to take a breath, her chin quivering, pain flickering across her eyes. There was often a hint of it in there, though most times it wasn’t as obvious as it was now. “…because I’m not able to do that to Cody.”
She didn’t have to say another word. “I’ll wear it for you.”
The wine was bringing back the memories. Last year had been difficult on both of us. We’d both been hit with tragedies, and though they weren’t at all similar, the hurt and devastation caused by each was just as deep. She had only been my assistant for a few weeks at that point, promoted from one of my part-time interns after graduating with her marketing degree
. I was there when she received the phone call. A few weeks later, she was the first person I had called when I’d stumbled out of Reed’s condo. Both incidents had changed our lives forever.
She lifted a length of hair off my shoulder and twirled it around her finger. “You really do look gorgeous.”
“I look—”
“More exposed than usual…and that’s okay.”
I glanced at the mirror again. Exposed, yes—and sexy. Sexier than I had felt in a really long time, maybe even as long ago as the beginning of my relationship with Reed. I knew this dress would make me feel seductive, but I hadn’t expected the feelings to be this strong. Still, that didn’t change my fears about going to the party, it just eased my nerves about what I would be wearing.
My phone chimed from inside my purse. Brea retrieved it from the table and handed it to me. It was a text from Anna:
Try to have fun tonight, baby girl. I’ll be thinking about you. xoxo
There was a knock at the door, which startled us both. Brea took my jacket off the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders, pulling my hair out from underneath. “Are you ready?”
I paused for a second and nodded.
“Promise to call me in the morning to tell me all the gossip?”
“I promise.”
She turned my head and did a last minute check of my makeup. “Reed is going to diiiie when he sees you.”
“I doubt that,” I said, letting her take my hand and walk me to the door. “Let’s just hope he leaves me alone tonight.” He’d been calling and texting frequently over the last few months, none of which I had returned. I had a feeling he’d try and make contact in person next.
Brea opened the door for Zack. She was right…he was extremely attractive. He was also well-groomed and stylish, dressed in a sharp black suit, a starched white shirt and light blue tie. Silver cufflinks peeked out the sleeves of his jacket.