Book Bitch

by Ashleigh Royce

  Preston got to the door and turned. “Imagine thinking of Christmas now, in June.” He let out another giggle. Once he was out and in the elevator, Rebecca closed her office door. She turned toward me. Our faces were inches apart. “You’re wonderful. You played him like a piano, stroking all of his keys.” She kissed me, but it was quick. I wanted more, but knew we were not in the right place for that.

  “I’d like to stroke your keys. What are you doing after work today?” My hope was that I could spend some time with her to figure out what we had.

  “I have to meet a client for dinner. I’d invite you along but he’s a bit odd about meeting new people.”

  “Oh no, that’s okay. I understand. I don’t have to shadow you on every appointment. I just thought we could talk, you know, get to know each other better.”

  She rested her hand on my cheek. Her skin was soft. I inhaled the scent of her hand cream. The phone rang and interrupted the moment.

  “Yes, Rose?” Rebecca listened. “Okay, put him through.” She hung up and waited for Rose to patch the call through. Her dragon-lady persona returned as she asserted herself toward the caller. I sat at my desk took a bite of my sandwich while I read the next manuscript in line for me to decide its fate with Stratford Literary. I didn’t hear Rebecca end her call or notice her in front of my computer monitor.

  “You’re very sexy when you do that.”

  “What? Read a manuscript?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was seductive, playful.

  I put the story down and gave her my full attention. I stood and moved closer. She pressed against me. The heat radiated from her body through our clothes. It charged me. In return, I pulled her hips toward me. We fit together perfectly, everything connecting in the right way, as if we were made for each other.

  “I see you’ve been thinking about me.” Her voice was barely a whisper. It caused my spine to tingle.

  Suddenly, my breathing was rapid. I couldn’t think clearly. My mouth betrayed me. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I even thought about you in the shower this morning.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “You did?” she whispered. Her lips were a hair away from mine. They pulled like a magnet. I was intoxicated.

  I nodded slowly, hoping it would control my panting. One of her arms snaked around my neck as the other hand smoothed down my tie. It continued past the tip until she stopped on my crotch. I closed my eyes hoping to hold off, but she palmed my bulge and squeezed slightly. My mouth opened and a low moan escaped.

  She needed me. I couldn’t think of anything but the truth. Her fingers moved quickly. “What did you think about regarding me this morning in the shower?”

  “I… I thought about how soft and curvy you are.”

  “What else?” Her hand moved infinitesimally faster, as did my breathing. Her warm hand stroked my length.

  “How good you smell, and…” The rubbing got harder. So did I. “Oh…” I closed my eyes. Flashes of her at her apartment… on the bed, in the shower…

  “And?”

  “And… how wonderful you feel.” I was so close. I couldn’t make a comprehensible thought. Rebecca backed me against the wall. She pulled open my pants, by-passed my briefs, and took me into her hand. When she grabbed me, I let out a gasp. With slow up and down movements, she jerked me. My head was fuzzy. All I could think about was the sensation.

  “What did you do about it?” Her breath caressed my ear. It drove me to a higher level.

  “I… I… I came.” And then I exploded in her hand.

  Good thing the deli gives lots of napkins when you order lunch from them. They proved to be useful. Just as we finished cleaning up, Rose buzzed in with another call for Rebecca. Plucking a short, sweet, chaste kiss, before she walked to her desk, taking the call as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. I sat in my chair bewildered by what had just happened, and feeling very, very happy. And very, very guilty.

  Before I knew it, Rose knocked on the door to wish us a good evening. She was going home. “Don’t forget your dinner meeting at six-thirty,” she reminded Rebecca.

  “Thanks, Rose. Get home safely,” Rebecca returned without looking up from her paper work.

  I walked toward the men’s room and noticed that the office was empty. Everyone had left for the day. My watch registered five forty-five. I half expected tumbleweeds to be rolling in the aisles between the desks.

  A thought to reciprocate Rebecca’s earlier expression of desire crossed my mind now that the threat of someone walking in on us was dissolved, but when I walked back into the office, she had a fresh coat of lipstick on and her purse in her hand. “Don’t forget to lock up when you leave.”

  “Wait!”

  She stopped and looked at me.

  “When can I see you?”

  “You see me every day,” she said.

  “I mean privately. I want to be with you. Get to know you.”

  She was at a loss. “I don’t know.”

  “What about tonight, after your meeting?” I looked at her, silently pleading.

  “I’m not sure what time I’ll be finished.”

  “Can you call me when you’re done? I can be anywhere you tell me to be, at whatever time you tell me to be there.”

  The lines in her face softened. She realized I wanted more than just a quickie in the office, or the cab, or her shower. She smiled. “Of course.” She placed a gentle kiss on my lips and stroked the side of my face. Then she walked out of the door.

  Chapter Nine

  I contemplated another shower when I got home, but between the different appointments I’d been privy to, and the spontaneous sex at Rebecca’s will, I was falling behind on my reading. Before my promotion, I’d get through twenty-five to thirty submissions a day. But, lately I was lucky to get through ten. I didn’t want to fall behind and cause Rebecca to think I wasn’t worthy of her confidence or the promotion.

  I popped a frozen pizza into the toaster oven and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt. It reminded me that I hadn’t gone running in days. I made a mental note to rectify that in the morning. I’d set the alarm for an hour earlier to do it before showering and going to work.

  After cleaning up the crumbs from the pizza, I grabbed the stack of queries I brought home and sat on the couch. I got through seven before the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Connor.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I never thanked you for introducing me to Lindsey.”

  “No problem. It wasn’t really a formal introduction. You were here. She came by. You guys met. I’m just glad you hit it off.”

  “Yeah, well we’re more than hitting it off. We talk, or text every night. We’re going out on Saturday.”

  “I heard. I saw her at lunch today. She told me you were getting together.”

  “I bet she didn’t tell you that I’m hoping to get lucky then.”

  “Con, I don’t want to hear any of it. I have to work with this girl and she’s nice. Don’t ruin the good standing I hold her in.”

  “Okay, I won’t share those parts. So where have you been? I tried calling you last night.”

  Multiple thoughts from the night before flooded my brain. “I went to an industry function at the Waldorf-Astoria.”

  “Fancy! So I guess you really are moving up in the world. Bet you had to wear something other than jeans and a shirt.”

  “Yeah, my boss bought me a new suit. I guess the only sport jacket I own wasn’t enough for the book snobs.”

  Connor laughed. “Dude, you’ve got to up your threads. You’re an executive now.”

  “I guess.” I laughed, too.

  “Meet any good authors?”

  “Some, but there were some interesting publishing people I got to mingle with.”

  “Cool. I guess you really are moving up in the world. Okay, gotta go, Lindsey’s beeping in on the other line. I’ll talk to ya.”

  I said good-bye and returned t
o my reading.

  I jumped awake with the sound of my lobby buzzer. I looked around. Both the couch and me were covered with paper. Must’ve fallen asleep while reading submissions. Edging off the couch, I shuffled to the intercom. “Who?”

  “Me.”

  Who’s me? I buzzed ‘me’ in anyway. The average time it took for someone to take the elevator and get to my apartment was seven minutes. I waited six and opened the door. The bell on the elevator rang and I tensed when the doors opened. Rebecca walked out of the double doors and looked in both directions before she saw me standing in the hallway. As she approached me, I watched her short skirt and high heels, which made her long legs look very sexy, get closer. I imagined them wrapped around my waist. A smile stretched across my face.

  “Hey, handsome,” she said. Just the sound of her voice resonated through me.

  “Hey.”

  She walked right into my arms. I hugged her tightly, embracing all of her. It felt wonderful to touch her. She stretched her neck and kissed me. I stepped back to let her into the apartment.

  “How’d you know where I live?”

  She cocked her head and rolled her eyes. “I’m the boss, remember? I have your personnel file.”

  “Oh right. Come on in. Sit down.”

  She looked around at my small apartment. A half wall separated the kitchenette and the living area. Behind the modular couch was a wall with two doors; one led to the bathroom, the other to my bedroom.

  “Is this it?” I could tell she wasn’t impressed.

  “Well, there’s a bathroom and a bedroom, but other than that, yup, this is it.”

  “Remind me to give you a raise.” She laughed. Laying her purse on the edge of the modular couch, she moved closer to me. She pressed her body to mine. Then we kissed. It was long and sensual. The pull between my legs certainly liked it.

  “How was your meeting?” I asked.

  “Dull. I missed you. You’ll have to come to the next one to liven it up. I don’t care if Jason doesn’t like new people. I couldn’t wait for it to be over. I kept thinking about all of those things you said to me in the office this afternoon.”

  Instantly, I recalled what happened in the office, but I couldn’t remember what I had said, specifically. I knew I shared some of the things I liked about her. Just recalling the afternoon got me hard. Having her so close to me didn’t make it any easier to control the thoughts I was having. I wanted to talk to her, get to know her. A relationship isn’t based on sex alone. I didn’t want her to think that’s all I wanted from her, or that I was performing to gain status in the company.

  “Can I get you a drink?” I pulled away from her and walked into the kitchen.

  “Sure. Do you have ginger ale?” Her voice was suggestive. I knew she wanted me to remember last night, particularly the cab ride.

  “No, but I have Coke.”

  “That’ll be great.”

  I reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of soda. Then I grabbed two glasses from the dish rack. I poured us each a healthy glass and handed her one before sitting on the couch next to her. She moved closer to me. Long fingers raked through my hair.

  “You have such thick waves,” she said. Her touch made it difficult for me to concentrate. “So what do you want to talk about?”

  “Tell me something about yourself. Something I don’t know from the rumors that circulate through this industry.”

  She looked across the room, but I don’t think it was at anything in particular; it was more so she could converge the thoughts she wanted to share. “Well, my father was killed in a car accident when I was five. My mother re-married two years later. My stepfather was always a perfectionist. If he couldn’t read my handwriting, I’d have to start over. If my shirt wasn’t tucked into my waist, I’d have to change my outfit. If I didn’t sit straight, I’d have to walk around with a book on my head. Needless to say, I spent many nights crying while I re-did my homework, organized suitable outfits, and pretending I had a stick up my rear end in hopes my posture was as straight as an arrow. He eased up a bit when my half-sister, Missy was born, and I became virtually non-existent when my brother, Charles – we call him Chip – came along. My stepfather always made me feel as if I had to earn the basic necessities, like school clothing and birthday gifts. When I was fifteen, I knew I wanted to be a writer. As I’ve told you, that didn’t work out too well. I became an agent instead and vowed that I would always be independent, never having to rely on anyone else to take care of me. And, that’s why I am the way that I am.”

  I’m sure my expression begged for more. “What about things you like? Music? Food? Books? Favorite color?”

  “How cliché. I listen to all kinds of music, but the best music to make love to is classical. I like a wide variety of foods, but I won’t eat Indian. It’s too spicy for my stomach. Books? I love all books, no matter the genre, particularly if they’re well written, and we represent the author.” She winked. “As for color, hmmm, I guess I’d have to say white is my favorite. It encompasses the entire spectrum. That way I don’t have to pick just one.” She smiled. “Now you.”

  “I agree with everything you said.” I donned a wide grin and then gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

  “Hey, that’s a cop out. You have to share. You made me share.” Her protest made her sound like a young child. She was adorable and sexy.

  “Okay, okay.” I patted the air between us. “Well, you already know I’m the only child to a librarian and a life insurance salesman. My only friend in New York has ditched me for someone else, which is fine as long as he’s happy. I love books, too, but my particular favorites have an element of science fiction or mystery. I run five miles a day, except today because by the time I stopped thinking about you, I was almost late for work. My favorite fragrance is whatever you’re wearing, mixed with your shampoo. Favorite color… that depends.”

  Her eyebrow furrowed. “Depends on what?”

  “On what color your underwear is today.” I leaned over and kissed her. Her body relaxed as I pushed my tongue into her mouth. It danced with hers. She pulled away and looked at me. Hiking up her skirt, she threw her leg over me, straddling my lap. Carefully lifting the bottom of her blouse up over her head, she revealed a light blue, lacy bra, cradling the most beautiful breasts I had ever seen.

  “I guess my favorite color is blue today.”

  She laughed then rocked, pushing up against me. My hands skimmed her waist to the back of her skirt, where I tugged the zipper down. She lifted the skirt up her body and over her head before tossing it to the side where her blouse was. My breath left me as I took in her perfect figure. She helped me remove my shirt. Soft hands caressed my chest.

  “You’re in such good shape,” she said.

  I caressed her breasts, tracing the straps of her bra and slid them down each of her shoulders until it fell to reveal the perfectly shaped mounds. “So are you.”

  She reached behind and unclasped the bra. Then she rocked against me again. I leaned in and put my mouth on one breast. I sucked and licked her nipple. It hardened as I flicked it with my tongue. Her head tossed back and her back arched, pushing it deeper into my mouth. A low moan came from her as her hips flexed.

  “You need to remove these pants,” she said. I nodded and helped her off of me so I could slide my pants and briefs down my legs. I sprang free, showing her how much I wanted her. While I had been busy removing my garments, she finished removing her own. She was so beautiful. My eyes widened. She straddled me again. With my hands on her waist, I guided her over of my erection. Gently easing down, she took all of me. She was so wet, and warm. It added to the intensity of me filling her. Her hair fell around her face as she moved up and then down as I helped guide her. Heavy pants replaced our even breathing.

  Her long fingers gripped my shoulders. As I bucked up and pulled her down my length, I felt her tighten around me. It wouldn’t be long. The pressure built and I was reaching the pinnacle. I felt her release
over me. I pushed up twice more. I held her down as I spilled into her. Her body relaxed and she leaned her body against mine, my face between her breasts. I held her close, breathing in her scent, planting kisses on either breast.

  “You’re amazing,” I said.

  “Me? It’s you who is amazing,” she said.

  With my fingertips I stroked her arm. It made her skin pimple. I reached over, grabbed my tee shirt, and helped her put it on.

  She inhaled its scent. “Mmmm, it smells like you.” I pulled her close to me again and kissed her hair. We sat quietly in the same position we ended in for several minutes.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  Although she couldn’t see my face, I smiled. “I’m thinking about how fantastic you are.”

  She looked up and pulled away from me to see my face.

  “I mean it. You’re beautiful, intelligent, strong, yet soft when it counts. You’re just… you’re everything.”

  A tear slid down her cheek.

  “Hey, did I say something wrong?” Concern filled me.

  “No, no,” she said, wiping the tear. She leaned back and our connection was broken. She sat in the corner of the couch, her knees brought up to her chest. “It’s just been so long since someone said something genuinely nice to me. I mean I never let anyone in, I usually keep people on the outside of my walls. I’ve been hurt by people who were close. It was just easier, you know? Most people say things they think you want to hear, and when they find out that I’m successful, I think it threatens them. They back away, like they never want to get to know me. You’re so different.”

  “That’s because you’re so much more than what you show on the surface. People only know what you choose to show them. Maybe you should start showing them who you really are instead of the Book Bitch.” She sat quietly, ingesting what I said. “So why are you crying?” I asked. “Isn’t it a good thing that I care about you?”

  “It is. It’s just that it’s happening so fast. I mean, you aren’t even in your new position for two weeks and we’ve already slept together, more than I would if I’d dated you for a year.”