Arousal

by Simone Sowood

  I don’t know whether I’ve offended him or not.

  Without glancing up at me, he walks back into the room, carrying two new glasses in one and the bottle in the other while bubbles continue to overflow down the side of the bottle and onto the carpet.

  “More?” he offers.

  Without waiting for a response, he fills a glass and hands it to me. He takes my old, half-full glass and sets it on the end table.

  After what seems like far too long a time, he sits back down beside me and pours himself a glass.

  “Cheers,” he says, clinking my glass.

  “Cheers,” I murmur, watching him down his glass and pour himself another before I’ve even had a sip of mine.

  Raising the glass to my mouth, the freshly opened Champagne fizzes on my lips. I take a sip, contemplating Liam. It’s such an isolated life, and the only people he mentions are work colleagues.

  Liam puts his arms around me and draws me so close, there is no air between us.

  “I’m really glad I decided to eat at the Fak Kok that night,” he says, kissing the top of my hair.

  I bend my neck and look up at him, his bright caramel eyes are smiling down at me. “Good thing my father was giving me such a hard time.”

  “Drink up,” he says, clinking my glass again.

  Before I know it, we’ve finished off the bottle, along with another one and the sun is rising behind the buildings on the other side of Central Park. We’ve spent the entire night cuddling and talking, and yet it still seems too soon to move from his arms.

  Breakfast (Liam)

  “I’ve never gone this long without thinking about work,” Darcy says.

  I chuckle, and say, “Neither have I. I usually work hundred-hour weeks. And here we are, on day two together.”

  “Same,” she says, laughing.

  Even though we’ve been drinking Champagne all night, neither of us are drunk because of the amount of time it’s been spread over. But I have just enough buzz to want this to keep going, whether that’s from the alcohol or Darcy is difficult to tell. I suspect it’s Darcy.

  I’m sure it’s Darcy.

  Without saying anything more, I release her from my grasp and stand. I make my way back into the wine room, looking back at Darcy through the glass wall once I’m inside.

  I turn away and choose another bottle to open. As I pop the cork, the door opens and Darcy walks over to me.

  “Isn’t it a little early for that?”

  “Early, late. Who cares?”

  “It’s like, six in the morning.”

  “We can add some orange juice if it’ll make you feel better. There’s nothing wrong with drinking mimosas on a Sunday morning.”

  “You are bad,” she says, playfully pushing on my chest. “I’m supposed to be working on strategies for the charity today.”

  “Yeah?” I say, closing the distance between us. “I thought we already solved your charity’s issues, so looks like your day just opened up.”

  The air in here is cool, set to fifty-five degrees for the wine, and Darcy’s nipples poke into me through the cotton bathrobe.

  “And your day? What’re you supposed to be working on?” Darcy brushes the side of her head against my cheek, her soft hair catching in my stubble.

  “I’ve cleared my schedule. The only thing I’m working on today is you.”

  Darcy looks at me, fighting a smile by biting her lips between her teeth.

  Turning away, I pour the Champagne into two new glasses and pass her one. I fill my mouth with the bubbles, and pull her into me with my other hand.

  Leaning, I crush my lips against hers. As she parts her lips, I fill her mouth with the Champagne in mine, and we kiss without swallowing. The liquid fizzes in our mouths as our tongues move around each other’s.

  I slip my hand into her robe, running it over the fleshy curve of her hip. As I caress her soft skin, I realize this will be the first full day in years I can remember without doing any work at all. How can I, when something better has finally presented itself to me?

  She presented herself to me in some bizarre twist of fate. I’m not foolish enough to turn away from that. I can hire people to do my work, what I need now is time. As much time as possible to spend with Darcy.

  The challenge will be in getting her to see the same way. She works as hard as I do. Can two workaholics really lose their addiction this easily? Plus she’ll be concerned about money. And her charity.

  Even though I have enough for half the world’s population, she’s going to be too proud to accept anything I have, I know she is. Otherwise she wouldn’t be who she is, the MBA who knows more about the family business than anyone else.

  My dick twitches just thinking about her in the boardroom. I’d like to see her give me a presentation, then bend her over the board table and fuck her stupid.

  I set my glass on the shelf and ram my fingers through her hair. She gasps, a sound that fully hardens my dick. I back her up against the racks of red wine, not giving one fuck that the wall holds wine worth tens of thousands of dollars.

  She grunts when her back hits the bottle tops, framed by heavy wood shelving.

  “Wait,” she says, squirming her head away from me and placing her free hand on my chest.

  “I need to fuck you,” I growl through gritted teeth.

  “It’s my turn.”

  “Your turn for what?”

  Darcy doesn’t answer me. Not with words. She kisses down my neck and across my pecs. Her hand pushes between us, and grips my cock. Squirming, I step back to give her space and she drops to her knees, still holding her glass.

  Tingles burst over my balls as I imagine my cock in her mouth.

  “God, it’s huge,” she says, kissing up my shaft.

  I grunt from the fucking bliss of her soft lips on me, and grip the heavy wood shelving for support against the way she makes me feel.

  “I’ve been dying to get to touch you all night.”

  “No one was stopping you.”

  Her eyes looking up at me, she takes a mouthful of her Champagne. She holds her head level, and tilts my cock with her hand. Closing her mouth over me, the bubbles fizz over the sensitive head of my dick, making me gasp.

  Darcy swirls her tongue around me, firing up the bubbles. Some of the liquid runs down my shaft, and trickles over my balls, setting every bit of me on high fucking alert for this woman.

  She keeps taking more mouthfuls, setting the fresh bubbles off on my skin, making my back tense with the sensations.

  I fucking love the way she can take control. Just like I knew she could. She’s a leader, a great business mind. And the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever had my dick in.

  She takes as much of me as she can deep into her mouth, closing her lips around me. Fondling my balls with her fingers. Gripping my ass with her other hand.

  It’s too fucking much.

  My mind runs over how the rest of the day will go. Of all the places in my apartment I want to take her in. To pound into her wet pussy until she screams my name in ecstasy. My real name.

  I’m going to make her stay here tonight. Fuck work in the morning. I want to hold her in my arms in bed tonight. Shower with her in the morning.

  This is too good, and the screaming of my cock drags me from my thoughts. I swallow, wanting to delay this, but knowing I won’t be able to much longer.

  My hands reach for something else to grip, the left one settles on the neck of a bottle. In the intensity, I accidentally yank it from the shelf, and it smashes on the floor beside us. Glass shards fly everywhere, and liquid spatters up my leg, and probably on Darcy too but neither of us reacts.

  Needing something else in my hands, I reach down and grip her silky hair. Her soft, silky hair that I love having between my fingers.

  “You’re going to make me come,” I grunt.

  Darcy moans through her throat. It’s so high pitched that I think the glasses will shatter. Or at very least, I’ll shatter. Maybe I already hav
e.

  This is crazy.

  I’ve never felt these things before. I never thought I ever would.

  I don’t know how to react, other than by clenching my hands around her head and filling her mouth with my come.

  She laps it up eagerly, moaning and licking all over me. Sucking back everything I give her.

  My chest heaving, I haul her off her knees, and half carry her out of the cold room away from the broken bottle and spilled wine and onto the comfort of the sofa.

  “All day,” I say between breaths, “You’re staying here all day. You can go in the morning, if you can walk.”

  Pushed Again (Darcy)

  It’s been a month since I phoned in sick on Monday. And Tuesday. I wasn’t sure about shirking my responsibilities, but leaving Liam wasn’t going to happen. Even if I had tried to leave, there’s no way he would’ve let me leave his arms.

  “I still can’t believe you have a bodyguard,” Kirsten says, sipping her cranberry juice.

  We both glance over at Chase, who’s sitting at the next table. He’s drinking a coffee and trying to look inconspicuous as he protects me from God knows what.

  He’s ex SEAL, with a body and professionalism to match. Plus, as Kirsten keeps telling me, he’s extremely cute. I haven’t noticed. I don’t seem to notice any men other than Liam anymore.

  “Liam insists. I’ve gotten used to it.” Chase has become my shadow.

  “I wonder why he insists on you having one?”

  Kirsten still has no idea who Liam really is. I haven’t told her or my father, or anyone else. I promised. She keeps asking why I have one, and I keep stalling. I’m going to have to come up with a better excuse, like he’s in the witness protection program or something and the bad guys might come after me. Though that’s just silly.

  “It doesn’t matter, Chase is a nice guy.”

  “He’s certainly cute. What’s the protocol on me dating him? Is that allowed?”

  I laugh, and say, “I don’t know, but don’t let me stop you from trying.”

  “Give him my number for me.” Her voice is halfway between a plea and an order.

  “Anyway, let’s talk Young Hearts, I have a two o’clock meeting I have to be back in the office for.”

  The waitress appears, frazzled, and sets a turkey sandwich in front of me and a pastrami on rye in front of Kirsten. She hurries away, and we swap plates. I pop a fry in my mouth, and Kirsten starts talking about the trust she’s arranging with one of Liam’s lawyers.

  I was too nervous to take a straight, annual donation. What if things don’t work out between us? I’d be so scared of losing the donation, that I’d stay unhappy just to keep the charity afloat.

  Of course, I didn’t word it to Liam quite like that. Especially because I genuinely do think things will work out between us. It’s just the pragmatic business woman is much happier with it this way.

  And a trust solves all the charity’s problems forever. We can do so much now, provide support to so many more people.

  “Sounds like you have everything under control,” I say, and take another bite of my sandwich. Bit of mustard sticks on my lower lip, and I wipe it away with my napkin.

  “We do. You did it, hun. Everything you wanted when you founded the charity has been fulfilled. And by that, I mean most of all you. I’m so proud of you.” Kirsten reaches across the table and squeezes my forearm as she speaks.

  I manage a weak smile, despite her own enthusiastic one. It’s true, I feel settled and whole. Something I hadn’t felt at all in the time between losing Tanner and finding Liam.

  Liam. I can’t believe how happy he makes me. How settled I am when I’m around him. He even makes my frustrations with my father seem insignificant.

  My phone rings, and I pull it out of my purse. It’s my father.

  “Hey, Dad,” I say, answering it.

  “Where are you? Aren’t you aware of the news?” he shouts into my ear.

  “You know I’m with Kirsten for a Young Hearts lunch meeting.”

  “Well, you need to get back here and explain why we’re so far behind our competitors.”

  My brow knitted. I ask, “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s all over the business news. Elite Exhibitions has just bought that chocolate thing you were supposed to go to in Austin, and all the market analysts are calling it a genius move, saying access to their technology to hold the event online as well as in person is going to be rolled out and revolutionize the way the entire industry is run. And now we’re behind, Darcy. Why are we behind?”

  My head is spinning. I told him we should buy the thing. I’ve been telling him that since before the event was even held. And then he demanded I go to the stupid wedding because the chocolate expo was a waste of time. He’d even laughed at me when he said it. And every time I brought it up.

  I really want to say ‘I told you so’ but somehow I think he’d have a very selective memory and deny any of it happened. Instead, I roll my eyes at Kirsten and she chuckles.

  “I haven’t told you about it yet, because I know you thought I was wasting my time with the chocolate. There’s another event next week that’s similar in that it’s using the internet to enhance the event. It’s an interior design show in Paris. I think I should go.”

  Maybe now he’ll listen to me, anyway.

  “Fine, good, go. Are you sure you need to go? Can’t we just buy it now?”

  “I think it’s best if I check it out first, to make sure it’s worth buying, and to see how much it’s worth. Don’t you?”

  “I guess, but I still think we should buy it now, to have a counter move to Elite Exhibitions.”

  “It’s only a week.”

  “Fine, but don’t fuck this up for us.”

  “Why would you say something like that?” I ask, unable to hide the anger in my voice.

  “I mean since you started dating that guy, you’ve lost your focus on the business, and the family is suffering for it.”

  My blood boiling, I hang up on him. The nerve of him. First, he nags me to find a boyfriend, now I have one, he blames me for his wrong business decisions. He’s the one who’s fucking the company, not me. He’s just too out of touch to see that. He thinks we should still do stuff the same way he did it when he started, before I was even born.

  “Your dad being an ass again?” Kirsten asks.

  “Yep,” I say, my finger still on the phone.

  I’m pretty sure I’m going to want to buy the event in Paris, it’s going to be a light week. I wonder, and quickly type out a text message.

  Hey, I have to go to Paris next week, want to come? xo

  Closing my eyes, I imagine all the fun Liam and I can have. I’ve only been to Paris once, and that’s when I was a teenager. How romantic would it be to go up the Eiffel Tower with Liam?

  I hope he’ll be willing to put off his work for me. He seems to be reducing his workload a lot now. But maybe this is a step too far for him.

  “Honestly, I don’t know why you stay and work with him,” Kirsten says, banging her glass down on the table.

  “Huh?” I look up at her, and realize I’ve been ignoring her while I was daydreaming about Liam.

  “Why don’t you come work for Young Hearts? You’d get away from your father.”

  Kirsten has mentioned a few times about me leaving Knight Global Events and working for the charity. I have no interest in it. Strangely. It seems like it would be a step back in my healing process.

  I definitely want to continue to help young adults who have suffered heart attacks, and I always will, I just think for my own well being, that I don’t want to deal with it on a daily basis. To have the daily reminder of Tanner. Because then I might start doubting my life again. I might become so paranoid that something will happen to Liam that I push him away. It’s too risky.

  My phone dings with a text.

  -I can think of nothing I’d rather do than take you to, and in, Paris

  A smile b
eaming across my face, I turn to Chase, and say, “Looks like we’re going to Paris.”

  Speaking her Language (Liam)

  As Darcy and I walk hand in hand past the booths filled with decorative throw cushions and colorful wallpapers, I realize I haven’t thought about work once since we landed in Paris this morning.

  We came straight to the conference.

  Victor’s been great and handling all the extra work I’ve been off-loading on him, but he’s finally said he’s going to hire another person to help him pick up what I’m dropping. Realistically, he’s going to need two or three people to make up for me.

  At least.

  I’ve got so much money, getting more was always a bit of a game for me. But now that I’ve found Darcy, I feel like I have more important things to do. Like spend my time with her.

  “You never did tell me about your passport,” Darcy says, looking up at me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why didn’t the immigration control guy know you were the William Bannerman? I mean, we did fly in on a private jet.”

  I smirk, and say, “My passport says Liam Bannerman. For some reason, most people don’t put William and Liam together as the same name.” Thankfully.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “I thought you were going to say you bribe them.”

  Chuckling, I say, “No, I’ve never needed to. Does that ruin my man-of-mystery reputation for you?”

  No one at the convention knows who Darcy is. She’s the head of strategy for one of the world’s largest events corporations, and she’s here judging the event but in complete anonymity.

  Even though most people here are in casual wear, Darcy’s wearing a smart business skirt that ends mid-thigh, a sheer white blouse, and a matching business jacket. I know damn well she’s not dressed like that for the sake of walking around this place. She knows her business side makes me hard, and she’s dressed like that for me.