Unbind (Sub Rosa Series Book 1)

by Lynch, Sarah Michelle

  “I see,” he smirked, and got back to the crossword on his lap.

  The conference room was centrally located within the office block we were occupying for the week. We went there first to grab coffee but when I saw a selection of breakfast items also on hand, I took a bag of fruit and a muffin. I was assigned a temporary office and gawped at the size—that was something I could get excited about—having a large workspace, coupled with the view outside!

  We were joined by a number of people from an American company called Isle Media. A relatively new outfit, they were doing well and the potential deal was that some of our departments might merge with theirs—namely because Media Solutions had some great digital platforms to work with that Isle Media could utilise. I thought the whole thing was more a fact-finding mission (from both sides) and had this confirmed when Aaron Weiner from Isle took his position at the front of our first meeting and announced, “So, let’s see what we can hustle outta one another then guys.”

  Most of the morning involved the bigger players like Trevor chatting to Aaron and his stern female colleagues. I zoned out a great deal because they were talking a load of tech speak and it gave me chance to catch up on dozens of emails and the news. I couldn’t see a day when I wouldn’t be constantly hooked to either my phone or tablet, always required to keep my eye on the ball.

  One thing of note was a gossip column confirming that I seemed to be most definitely dating Cai Matthews (according to sources). Glad to know I was dating him! I didn’t know it needed a columnist to tell me that. We had been snapped at various locations that weekend—so it was official. Of course—Trevor had most probably seen this too.

  Trevor pre-warned me we would be in meetings for most of that day, all week probably, figuring out whether our niche could find a market in New York. Or, rather, a way to ensure our work practices weren’t compromised by a fledgling company that could still potentially go under.

  As I looked around the room I noticed our lot were their usual casual selves whereas Aaron wore a full suit and his perfect, doe-eyed female colleagues matched. I wore a monochrome Office dress which was smart but not too stuffy. I didn’t want to seem too casual on my first day there! Maybe New York was for me, after all. I just wanted to seem serious and I was also aware that landing a job in New York could help solve the problem I faced. Somehow, I knew Cai wasn’t all that fond of returning to London, for one reason or another. He hadn’t offered to come back with me, after all. He could have said, “Hey, babe. If it doesn’t work out we’ll just make it work in old London town, yeah?”

  I knew his work took him all over the world but I guessed if I were in New York, that was surely the best base for us both. I just knew I wanted to be close to him and I was eager to make the best of whatever lay ahead.

  All through that first meeting of the day, my mind felt fogged by recollections of the weekend. Cai seemed too good to be true. I felt I knew him so well already. It also felt like I’d been in the city for weeks, not days.

  Across the conference table Trevor caught my eye now and again—I knew I would face his interrogation soon enough.

  “Chloe? What do you think?”

  I was snapped from my thoughts by Aaron. “Pardon, think about what?”

  He shot me an exasperated expression. “The delivery times of showbiz copy to newswire—as part of your daily timekeeping? Is it as efficient as you would like it to be?”

  Holy shit. I had definitely lost my marbles somewhere along the way, or, it could have just been that this guy was trying to slip me up with all his long sentences. How did the conversation get so deep?

  Screw your head on. I smiled confidently, determined not to be flustered. “We provide the most up-to-date copy in the UK, if not the most up-to-date in the world. Not only is our data used by numerous subsidiary parties in the UK, but around the globe too. How we do this is that—” Trevor gave me a look, Don’t tell them too much, so I continued, “we have a strict process whereby the information goes the same route each time. Every time. It works. Efficiency has never been the quest, but quality has. Our processes have been streamlined over many, many years. That was one of the first things I learned. Unlike The Enquirer, we have never had to print an apology yet… we get the job done, we get it done quickly enough as it is. It is quality that matters most to our company, I would say. Trevor?”

  He nodded, giving me the invisible thumbs up. “Quite right, Chloe.”

  I smirked and Aaron smiled back, clearly enamoured with my unflinching display of pride.

  “There is always room for more efficiency,” he argued, “always.”

  He flicked some papers in front of him before recommencing his show of dominant maleness. Maybe in another time, another place, I most certainly would have tapped that. Aaron was nice looking, shall we say. I got back to my devices and zoned the dull chat out again.

  AS the day marched on, and dribs of conversation floated through my ears, it became clear the New York office would be a totally different workplace. I was daunted and my initial thought was that it wasn’t for me. I didn’t belong there. Seem familiar? I was handed some sample articles and realised I would have to change tack completely. Their style was much more flamboyant and less serious than the impartial way in which I had been taught to deliver copy. I’d most probably have to work much longer hours and take less holidays—even though my London job already had me glued to social media 24/7.

  Media Solutions was respected as an unbiased information provider yet in New York, I’d have to form an opinion, though I didn’t know the lay of the land. The work wouldn’t be any harder but I’d have to learn everything from scratch. I didn’t know much about American politics, local celebrities or annual social events. The culture was so much different. Rather than be housed mostly in my office, I’d be out meeting and greeting all the time, writing more up-to-the-minute articles for predominantly online magazines and digital subscribers. There would also be call for me to do a great deal of video blogging and my suspicion was that I had been brought along for my looks—possibly with a view to the cute British girl (dating Jennifer Matthews’ nephew) somehow getting a mega following. I knew I was getting a little ahead of myself but my gut told me there was something strange afoot that had drawn me to New York.

  The Americans were far more advanced than us in the eReader/tablet market and the demand for vast feeds of information was there. When Aaron had earlier challenged me on our delivery of copy, I hadn’t realised that he was alluding to the difference I would find in New York—I would be uploading articles wherever I got network and there wouldn’t be a dozen editing processes for my stuff to be peeled through.

  Sports, TV and film review publications were also discussed as possible markets for our company, and maybe for a moment, I considered I could switch to some other discipline if I needed to. While facts and figures were thrown around the room, I realised I was trying to bend this to my advantage but knew my own limits and this undertaking wouldn’t give me any time with Cai. It’d take me at least six months of heavy work to get off the ground. There was just too much to absorb.

  The UK was apparently the most exciting place in the world to be a journalist and I began to realise why—elitism on London’s circuit was rife, corruption also, but the networks were more compact, more established. America was ever-changing, always would be. There was more of a chance in America but in London, you had to really know your bollocks to keep them.

  In New York, I would be going in totally blind, having to constantly evolve as markets shifted and changed at light speed. I’d be writing for the audience, not for an institution which was respected more than any other in the world. If I were honest, it wouldn’t be any more challenging—that was if I got given a job—it would just be that I would be working a circuit which loved to pull up all kinds of crap it could find on Cai Matthews. That didn’t sit well with me.

  I prepared myself to say to Cai, “Look, I can’t take this job. Perhaps another, but not t
his one.” There’d be upheaval I didn’t need. I’d only left the Sheffield Telegraph a few months before joining Media Solutions. How was I in New York, already trying out for another new position? One which would take me well out of my comfort zone. I had the sudden feeling everything was moving way too fast. Cai had a grip on my heart but I knew my limits and I needed time. I made all those observations before it was even lunch!

  Our group ate together in that same conference suite, enjoying a buffet delivered in. One thing was for sure, I’d have to start visiting the gym if I moved to New York. All those sit-in lunches! The food was so good, the coffee even better!

  Aaron attempted to talk to me as we stood in line and spooned mini Indian snacks onto our plates. “Is it true about you and the Devil’s nephew?”

  “Is it true?” I laughed loudly enough to capture the attention of his jealous female aides. I flashed him a wicked grin, “What do you think?”

  He left it there. I thought, actually, Aaron probably saw me for the tigress I actually was—and it terrified him.

  At the end of the workday, Trevor caught up with me in my huge office while I shuffled all my stuff into my over-arm bag.

  “You’ve been with him this weekend, then?” Trevor’s expression was knowing.

  “What will it cost me to shut you up?” I grinned.

  “Listen, Chloe,” his voice was serious, “I wouldn’t go shouting about it, nor should you… I think you should be warned if you’re getting involved with him…”

  “Warned about what?” I turned my eyes on Trev, folding my arms in a stern stance.

  “He’s got a reputation for blowing up,” he blurted. He held up his hands and explained, “I’ve warned you, alright?”

  “What?” I felt confused, disbelieving.

  “If it gets serious between you and that photographer, just have your wits about you. His aunt knows people who know people.”

  It did make sense regards the whole wedding fiasco (which she more or less cancelled I reckoned). I supposed I would eventually find out for myself if she was a bitch, if we were to ever meet, that was. Just because she was Cai’s relative didn’t mean we would come into contact. I didn’t even know if Cai and I were going to last.

  “I know she has controlling influence over certain areas of his life,” I told Trevor, my tone softer now I knew he cared more about me than gossip. “Only the work he does for her magazine though, right? I imagine anything relating to that… she most certainly has her oar in.”

  “I heard she was the one who started those rumours about him being gay.” I never took him for a tattletale… but then I caught him shrugging his shoulders as if waiting to see what I would make of this little piece of information.

  “Whaaat?” I felt shocked beyond words.

  “Better to be informed, don’t you think? Just so you know.”

  “Yeah, thanks Trev.” Part of me didn’t want to know, actually. Now I’d have too many preconceptions if I ever were to meet her.

  Trevor and I discussed how different it would be working in New York. He agreed with me—the job would take all my waking hours. I’d need a crash course in American celebrities, not to mention etiquette on how to treat them. I was out of my depth but we both agreed that the week was a great way of seeing how the other half lived, so to speak, and a chance to connect. Whether it would all come off, I didn’t know.

  We left the building and rode back to the hotel. I must have chewed my nails all the way there whilst I thought about the aunt and the threat she posed. Once back at my room, I got a text from Trevor telling me where and when for dinner that night. I was glad to be off-duty for an evening so I didn’t have to doll up or prance for our American colleagues. It was great, actually. We all went to an Italian and drank several kegs of Peroni.

  Later when I finally laid my head on a pillow, I looked at my phone again.

  CAI: Missing you like crazy. x

  ME: Long, long day. Missed you too. xxx

  Almost instantly he replied: Wish I was there right now, kissing you. Your body. Your neck. xxx

  I got hot at the thought of him thinking of me sexually.

  ME: My boobs?

  HIM: Yeah. I’d kiss your beautiful breasts so slowly. I’d slide my fingers inside your hot pussy until you came. Your taste is still in my mouth.

  ME: My fingers are on my clit. Where are yours?

  HIM: Wrapped around the cock you own.

  ME: Shit, say the words…

  HIM: You.own.my.cock.

  I got myself off thinking of his cock against my thigh while he watched me frig myself. Bliss.

  ME: I miss you. ;-) I came hard though.

  HIM: I miss you. Will be crazy busy next two days. You?

  ME: Yep busy, too. Not convinced I am enjoying it, yet. We shall see.

  HIM: Give it a few days, baby. xxx

  ME: Need sleep. Will think of you. xxx

  HIM: Holding you tight… xxx

  I decided I would throw myself into work, then face all the logistics later on.

  Chapter 23

  WHEN WEDNESDAY FINALLY arrived I found myself in such a foul mood. Stinking, even. So many negatives were telling me to go back home and forget I had travelled to New York to try and be with a beautiful man who bewitched me and frightened me all at once. That’s what a few days without his touch did to me.

  I’d given him my spare key card so he could let himself into my hotel room and I waited, in bed. I wore my pyjamas and a robe on top, totally dead against anything happening that night. I didn’t want to eat, to have sex, not even drink. Well, maybe drink the Pepsi by my side. I hated the stuff. That was how low I felt.

  The gay thing bothered me. Mostly because the rumours wouldn’t let up. Everyday I saw something new posted on the ‘IS HE GAY?’ columns. Even though I was now on the scene! Surely, I mean, surely…?

  What was it with the marriage? With his aunt?

  I threw several tame punches into my pillow as I laid there in the dim light of my hotel room. I knew he was working all day but it was nine p.m. and he still hadn’t arrived!

  Ten minutes later when the door finally creaked open, I was almost asleep.

  He chucked several bags of equipment on the floor. I was only looking through the slits of my eyes, pretending to be asleep as he stepped tentatively inside my moody lair. From his expression, he really thought I was asleep and he walked to the bathroom, switched on the shower and shut the door. I heard whistling and then the toilet flush. I laid there angry as hell and just thought, Do you know what…?

  I jumped out of bed and launched myself inside that bathroom. Through the glass divide his back was turned to me and I was drawn to the taper of his lower back, the swell of his full backside. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He turned and looked at me with a smile, beckoning I join him. One look and I was his, again. With steam rapidly filling the room, I got undressed and hurried to meet him.

  I stepped inside the shower cubicle and into his embrace. He looked tired but happy to see me. I slid a hand down to stroke his shaft, watching while flashes of ecstasy crossed his face. He lifted his hands to my breasts and soaped them, playing with my nipples until I was gasping. My whole body pulsed feverishly while we stood there, saying hello. No words. His heavy penis lay perfectly in my hand, jerking under my touch. We were so perfectly matched in height that I lifted my leg to rest around his hip, tipped the head of his cock down, and let him spear me. I clung to his shoulders, both of us watching in anguish as we joined inch by inch.

  Our hips circled and he squeezed my bottom to pull me into him. I felt the ridges of his stomach and chest against my softer body and shut my eyes, letting myself become lost to sensation. He buried both hands in my hair and tightened his grip. I wanted a deeper connection and motioned he let me hold him tight around the shoulders so I could hitch up into his hold, both legs around his body. He then took a step to the left to push me back against the tile.

  His hands still tight in my dam
p locks, he kissed me ravenously while he bucked back and forth. “I missed your body, Chloe.”

  “Don’t stop. I can feel you rolling along my clit like that.”

  He chewed my top lip and then sucked hard, his tongue licking mercilessly afterward.

  “Cai!”

  “I missed you so much,” he growled.

  I buried myself in his embrace, holding on. I tried to control my pleasure, to extend and magnify the power of my orgasm.

  “Chloe,” he said, his voice painfully emotional.

  What was I ever worrying about? This was right where I wanted to be. My man buried inside me, fucking me. He squeezed a breast so hard, rubbing my tit up and down, the nipple lost in his painful massage.

  “Chloe,” he called again, and I opened my eyes to watch him.

  He was strained and pounding me hard and fast. Looking into his eyes, I could have roared. I fought the impulse to squeeze mine shut again, to throw my head back and scream. I kept my focus on him while we both unveiled our sex faces in front of one another, no hiding. While his mouth formed an O and he trembled, I bit down on my lip until I couldn’t help but breathe heavily in his face, my eyes probably telling him all he needed to know.

  He swelled inside me and came, his strokes of my vagina slower and gentler, edging me from my own sharp orgasm into languid, latent sighs as he worked us both down. I didn’t realise I was crying until he wiped the pad of his thumb underneath my eye. While I sobbed and hiccupped, he washed and dried me, got me out of there and into bed. Laid on his chest, my tears dried out eventually and he asked, “Are you okay?”

  “I think so.” My voice sounded weak.

  “What’s wrong?” He seemed fearful.

  “I won’t take a job if they offer me one. I know myself very well and it’s all too much upheaval while I’m still getting used to even being away from home! I don’t know why but I just can’t force myself to want to work here!”

  I buried myself in his chest and arms, seeking a solace I couldn’t find. As far as I was concerned, a job in New York was way beyond me. I didn’t want one, anyway. The people I had been working with all week just didn’t like me, didn’t get me. What had gone from being a week of networking and experience had turned into a nightmare, because I had this thing hanging over me—what if we couldn’t make it work, even though we both so badly wanted it to?