by Kate Stone
“Hey, let’s take it down a notch, okay? We’re not at the office anymore. You can relax.” He put a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye. And that was it. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. My shoulders relaxed. The tension left my back, my muscles unknotting all the way along my spine.
Owen was right to call me out on my tone. I was being confrontational, and there was no need for it. A week ago, it seemed like there would be more to this than a simple job. A week ago, it seemed like I’d found a real gentleman in him, someone with more to offer than his money. I hadn’t expected to find romance here, of course; I’d only been looking for a job. But when I saw Owen, I knew there had to be more. After our unplanned date, however, everything between us turned to ice.
Ivy warned me about him. She told me he liked to be a little too hands-on with his employees, as well as with the company. She told me he would try to make a move on me, and if things didn’t move between us the way he wanted, he would turn away from me. I thought that was what had happened, so when he decided we should go to lunch, I wanted to protect myself and resist his advances. Eventually I caved, and there we were, sitting in a booth in a small local pizzeria run by a man I suspected knew a different Owen from the one at work.
“Any time anything like that happens again, you let me know.” Ivy’s words echoed in my ear. I’d told her about the botched dinner meeting, about how we stayed anyway and enjoyed each other’s company. To be fair, she’d asked how it went.
The more I thought about it, the more it felt like I was caught in the middle of some kind of squabble between the two. Was it romantic or strictly professional? Had they dated? Had he turned her down, or the other way around? Who was to say I wasn’t just going to be the next Ivy? Who was to say this sort of thing wasn’t going to cost me my job?
“Hey, Mr. Brooks. I see you brought someone from work. Glad to see you finally letting them in on your little secret.” Our waitress stopped by the booth with pen and paper in hand, and was that a chip on her shoulder? Or did she just not feel the need to be overly friendly with Owen because everyone there knew him? Either way, she cocked her hip to one side and eyed us with a humorless smile. Her black hair hung down past her shoulders in a ponytail. She wore heavy eyeliner and nothing else. The only thing missing was gum, smacking and popping in her mouth to accompany her attitude.
“I finally have an employee who isn’t above eating good food like this,” he joked.
We ordered and handed her our menus. She thanked us and moved behind the counter to deliver the order to the kitchen. Then, she was on to the next table, refilling drinks and removing empty plates. We were alone.
“So, what’s the deal?” I asked. “The other night we were at a fancy Japanese steakhouse, and I’m sure there are a hundred other places like it that you’d rather eat at than this joint.” I put my hand up to my face and rubbed my temples. That came out all wrong, entirely too aggressive.
“Oh no,” Owen chuckled. “I only eat at those places for work. This is what I like. Tony has a special place in my heart.”
“Why here?” I could already feel myself softening up to him again. I knew I was about to see the real Owen Brooks, the guy who would eventually create his marketing firm on a smartphone in the palm of his hand. I knew whatever he said next would prove to me whether I’d been right or wrong about him.
“So,” he started, but there was a hesitation in his voice, keeping him from moving forward. I could see him mulling it over, trying to decide if he really wanted to tell me what he was about to say.
“You can tell me anything,” I said to encourage him.
“Well, before I started OBM, I was homeless. I had lost everything – my job, my apartment, everything. Good ole Tony back there would often let me eat for free or let me work off whatever I wanted to eat. If he needed someone to clean the tables, take out the trash, wash the dishes, or whatever, I would do it to pay off my food. Not all the time, of course, but whenever he felt like he couldn’t just give me food.”
“Why didn’t he just hire you?” I asked.
“He didn’t have any positions open, and I probably wouldn’t have taken the job anyway,” he answered reluctantly.
“Let me guess, you had a bigger vision.”
“I did. I wanted to do more, and as long as I could do enough to take care of myself while I figured out what more looked like, I knew it would be worth it.”
I had been wrong, and I had never been happier to be forced to admit that. There was still the matter of what was going on between Owen and his Operations Manager, but I didn’t feel like I was just another girl who happened to work for him. I wasn’t the next in line or anything like that. If our waitress could have been trusted, he didn’t bring anyone from work down here, and if it were true that he didn’t, then he didn’t have any reason to tell them the story of how Tony used to feed him.
“So, tell me, since you started OBM, have you found a Mrs. Brooks?” I asked. I felt brave. He seemed to be in the mood to reveal personal details, and I wanted to take advantage of that. Besides, I needed to know where I stood with him.
“I guess that’s the downside to my rapid success.”
Our food interrupted us as it arrived. Tony sold pizza by the slice, and each slice was the size of a small personal pizza. I had ordered two, and when the plates were placed in front of me, I wished I had been warned. Owen had ordered two as well, and the look on his face as our waitress set our food between us told me he wasn’t the least bit concerned about not being able to eat both.
“I just haven’t had time,” he continued after she left. “I stay so busy with the company, you know?” He hoisted the large slice up from his plate and folded it in half before taking a bite.
“Maybe now you can take the time,” I reminded him. “My whole purpose at the company seems to be freeing you up to handle other responsibilities. Maybe you should make dating a priority.”
“I’m trying.” He covered his mouth when he spoke.
This was not the same Owen from the office. At work, Owen Brooks was strictly business, strictly professional. That wasn’t to say he was really that uptight at work, but here at Tony’s, he seemed to relax, to become the same guy who ate here regularly before making it big. I wondered how often he ate here now. Everyone still knew him.
I caught a glimpse of this version of him back at the restaurant after a few drinks. Even so, he hadn’t opened up to me like this. My thoughts kept telling me this was wrong, but deep down in my heart, I knew that what was happening between us was bigger than our positions in his company, bigger than work. When he said he was trying to give dating a chance, my heart skipped a beat, hoping he meant with me.
“I really appreciate everything you’re doing,” he said a few moments later. “I feel like you were the missing piece.”
The missing piece? I reminded myself he only meant at work. He didn’t mean in his personal life, though I found myself wanting to be his missing piece. I wanted him to find his happiness, his comfort, his pleasure with me.
“Things are running much more smoothly now,” Owen continued, “and that’s all thanks to you.” He reached across and took my hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. Our eyes met. Was it possible he really was thinking about me the way I did about him?
“Excuse me,” I said hurriedly. “I’ve got to use the restroom.”
I pulled my hand back and climbed out of the booth. Owen pointed in the direction of the restrooms. I saw the sign and nodded.
“I’ll be right back.”
I knew I must have looked like a fool, scurrying away like I was, but I was overwhelmed and a bit terrified by what I was feeling. I wanted to be closer to him but when he touched me, I ran off to the restroom like a scared teenager. I barely even knew the man – we hadn’t slept together yet – but I felt myself falling for what I saw in his eyes. There was a deep, caring, and passionate man waiting for someone to coax him out of his shell. He just needed
someone to tell him it was okay not to be the president of his company twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that the restroom was a one-seater. I closed the door and locked it, leaning my head back against it to catch my breath. My body shook. I still had conflicting voices playing out in my head. I could hear Ivy telling me that he would try to get too close to me, making it sound like he’d tried it with every other employee, and telling me that she wanted me to keep an eye on him for her.
Then, there were my own thoughts, telling me… I didn’t know what they were telling me. I knew how it felt when he looked at me. He actually saw me. He saw beyond my flaws and imperfections, beyond the unruly hair I did myself every morning, simply pinning as much of it back from my face as I could – there were always a few strands that wouldn’t be contained. He saw past the makeup that wasn’t professionally applied, the clothes that didn’t carry designer names, my weight – I wasn’t rail thin like the other girls in his office.
I stepped in front of the mirror. I considered splashing cold water over my face, but I didn’t want my makeup to run. Instead, I placed my hands on the clean white surface and stared at my reflection. The same old doubts returned. He didn’t want me. He had only invited me here because I wasn’t a threat and he needed someone to talk to. I didn’t have the cunning drive and ambition of people like Ivy. It wasn’t some cutthroat competition for me. I was there to do what needed to be done so I could collect my paycheck and benefits. I had to stay afloat. I didn’t want to ruin my boss. I actually liked the guy. A lot.
“But you need to protect yourself,” I told the girl staring back at me in the glass. I’d been hurt before. Some guy would be nice to me for a while because I was comfortable and easy to talk to, but when I started to develop feelings, I realized he’d only needed to vent about the girls he really liked, girls like Ivy and Becca, with perfect supermodel bodies.
I flushed the toilet, so it sounded like I’d used the restroom, washed my hands out of habit, dried them on a couple of paper towels, and walked out. I knew what I had to do. I had to put my guard back up. It had come down as soon as I saw Owen Brooks for the first time, but I had to stay safe. I needed the job, and I couldn’t make an ass of myself.
“You okay?” he asked when I came back to my seat. He looked up at me like he cared.
“Yeah, it’s just this food. It’s too greasy,” said the girl who lived on wings and cheap cheeseburgers, but I figured it offered a perfect excuse. I slid my plate forward for effect. I’d only eaten about half of my first slice – almost enough to make me full.
“You want to take the rest home?” he asked.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” It was breaking my heart to turn down good food and turn away from someone with eyes that genuine, that caring.
“You sure?” He reached for the remaining full slice. Was he really about to eat a third piece of Tony’s pizza? He really liked this place!
“Go ahead.” I couldn’t help myself. I let out a little laugh, watching him gorge himself like this.
“What?” He folded his third piece in half.
“How do you eat stuff like this and stay in such good shape?”
“I don’t eat it often, and how do you know what kind of shape I’m in?” He cocked an eyebrow. “For all you know, I could be packing some weight under this suit.”
“I doubt it. I’ve seen you in just the shirt.”
He grinned mischievously. Were we flirting? So much for keeping my guard up. I was defenseless against this man.
“Well, I guess I should probably get back.” Disarmed by his charm, it was all I could think to say. If I stayed with him and took longer for lunch, there was no telling what would happen.
“No,” he said simply, wiping his hands on a napkin. “You know what I think? I think we should take the rest of the afternoon to ourselves. Let’s do something, just you and me.” And with that, he dropped a fifty on the table. “I always give them more here because I owe Tony and his crew so much, you know,” he said nervously. There was no way our meal even came close to fifty bucks, but he wasn’t about to wait for change.
Owen waved as he led me out the door and back onto the sidewalk, where he hailed a cab. I wondered why he didn’t have anyone from the office drive us, or why we didn’t go back to at least get his car, or mine. Instead, he held the back passenger-side door open for me to get in, and I did.
“Where are we going?” I asked him. “I really need to get back to the office.”
“Shh.” He placed a finger over my lips. “Let someone else worry about it, or it’ll be there tomorrow when we get back.” He gave the driver an address, and we were off.
His touch! His confidence! In the couple of weeks that I’d known him, he’d gone from being obsessed with work to always trying to pull me away. I’d been told that he did this with everybody, but I didn’t see him doing it with anyone else.
He pulled his finger away from my lips and leaned towards me. His hand went up to my face, cradling it, as I reached out and grabbed his coat, pulling him to me.
“I can’t resist you any longer,” he breathed, his lips close enough I could almost taste him.
“Then don’t,” I told him, any reservations I had crumbling with his touch.
We kissed. Something inside me unfolded and opened up as his tongue pressed between my lips. Desire and passion filled my body with an intense longing for the man next to me. I had to have him. I had to let him take me.
We made out in the backseat of the cab all the way to our destination. Our hands explored each other’s bodies over our clothes, groping blindly with only the intense energy we shared to guide us. As the car pulled to a stop, I looked out at the house standing before us. We were at Owen’s place.
“This is yours?” I asked as he led me out of the car. Given his success, I had expected a sprawling, expansive mansion, but the house we’d stopped in front of was a relatively modest two-story home. It was built in a bungalow style and tucked away in a quiet residential neighborhood. Somehow, it didn’t surprise me. What I’d seen of the real Owen was relaxed and down to Earth, nothing like the other people who worked for him.
“This is it. Home sweet home. Come on, I’ll take you on a quick tour.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me up the steps leading to his porch. He opened the door and pulled me inside with him, closing it as he pulled me closer to him in the entryway, where our lips met again.
He pressed me back to the wall, his lips working against mine, his hands pulling at my coat, my blouse, my pants. I went to his belt, unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping, letting his pants fall to the floor. He let go of me and shrugged his suit jacket off as I moved to the buttons on his shirt.
Our lips parted as he pulled my top over my head, baring my less than slim figure to him. He stepped back, his hands at my waist, and looked at me. I could feel the caress of his eyes over my skin. The feelings he’d awakened in me stirred once more. My desire quivered for his touch. He was out of my league, I knew, and I was in over my head, but I craved him more than anything else in that moment.
“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he said. Taking my hand, he led me to the stairs.
I followed him up, kicking off my shoes and letting my slacks fall as we reached the second floor. It was only one room, a loft-style bedroom that felt suspended over the rest of the house. The planks of the floor were placed so that the lines led to his king-sized bed, against the windows peering out over the front of the house. I unclasped my bra and shrugged the straps off over my shoulders, freeing my breasts for him.
He turned and took them in his hands, cupping them, rubbing and massaging them. He gently caught my nipples between the thumb and forefinger on each hand. Pleasure radiated from them, coursing through my body like electricity as he rubbed, pinched, and lightly pulled on them. We moved to the bed, where he pulled off his undershirt, revealing his fit figure.
He wasn’t ripped, bu
t he’d worked out enough to maintain the fine definition of his muscles. He took care of himself, took pride in his appearance, and now he was about to take me, on the soft, welcoming mattress and smooth sheets of his bed.
We embraced, our bare upper bodies rubbing against each other. He held me to him in his arms and rolled me over, placing himself on top of me. He pulled my panties down, slid off his boxers, and pressed the thick warmth of his hardened desire against my tender, wet pussy. If I’d had any doubts about how much he wanted me, his erection pushed them aside as it pressed against my lips.
“I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you,” he breathed heavily above me. He cradled my head in on hand and leaned down to kiss me.
I reached down while our lips locked into place and took him in one hand – thick and throbbing – while I spread myself open with the other to welcome him into me. I rocked my hips up towards his to accept him as he pushed his length into me, slowly at first. My head fell back, and I sucked my breath in as his girth spread me open. He let out his breath as if he’d been holding it for an eternity.
Then, he pulled back, drawing himself out, his cock sliding among the folds of flesh between my legs. I reached up and dug my hands into his messy sandy brown hair, guiding him down to me. His lips parted around my nipple, pulling it into his mouth. I arched my back and moaned as the sensations of his touch and penetration tantalized me.
“Oh, God, yes,” I moaned, rolling my hips against his as he drove himself deep inside me. He grabbed my arms and pinned them down on the pillow above my head, his fingers reaching up to intertwine with mine. We gripped each other as he continued to kiss me, his lips moving up my neck now, along my chin, avoiding my mouth and making me want him even more.
“I want to make you mine,” he growled in my ear, holding himself deep within me. His hips lifted mine from the bed.
I tried to answer, to tell him I already was his, but I couldn’t speak. Ecstasy grew somewhere deep inside me, and I could feel its waves coming to crash against our hips. My breath caught in my throat. Some combination of a whimper and a moan came from my mouth as I arched my back. I couldn’t believe he had me so close to orgasm already, and he’d barely touched me.