Heat Wave - Erotika Short Stories for Women (Adult Short Stories for Women Series)

by E. M. Flemming

“But I’m trying to get the business here, really.”

  Totally not convincing. She was clearly very, very into the man. “Look, he can see by your body language that you’re caving into his advances easily, and even though a man might be initially interested in that, you have to give a little bit of a chase.”

  “Chase? How?” She was staring at me at this point, as though I were about to deliver some earth shattering knowledge to her. Well, I guess I kind of was.

  “What you have to do is increase your propinquity. You have to make sure you run into each other more often. For example, do you know where he goes for morning coffee, or lunch during the days? Do you live nearby to each other?”

  “Yes, we do actually. But he is married.”

  I shrugged that part off. “Okay, if you guys live close by, you have a higher propinquity, than if you, say, lived further apart. It just means that the chances of you guys getting together increases. For example, when guys and girls in college, live on the same floor of a dorm, they have extremely high propinquity. Does this make sense?”

  “Yes,” she said. She still looked a little bit lost, but I think she was starting to catch on. “But what should I do now?”

  “Right now? Here’s what I think you should do.” She was looking at me with some intent now. I could see the gleam in her eye. I think she was finally starting to get my point. “Right now, you should tell him that something has come up, but you wanted to get together again tomorrow. You’re sorry you have to run off, but you want to finish this up tomorrow. Then, let him be the one to lead. Don’t make yourself so easily accessible, but just enough to keep the propinquity high enough. This way, you’ll score the man and the new business.”

  “Okay.”

  “You see, even though he may be interested in you right now, for say a one-time thing, when you increase the propinquity before you sleep together, you’ll earn more of his respect in the long term. In your case, this also means earning his business as well.”

  It was a little bit odd talking to a stranger like that out of the blue – giving advice on sex and money all wrapped into one – but I couldn’t help myself. And when the man came back, she politely excused herself, told him she had to run, and said they should reschedule. She didn’t even say they should reschedule for tomorrow. And, although I was sitting right there, after she left, he paid no attention to me. He was completely blindsided by her early departure. Somewhere, someone was applauding for that girl.

  “Hi, Sara.”

  I was caught off guard. In my heated exchange with the young woman, I didn’t see Robert Dorning come up from behind me. Was he standing there the whole time? “Hi,” I said back. I got up and gave him a light hug. God that body felt good next to mine.

  “How’ve you been?” he said.

  “Oh, pretty good. Keeping busy, you know, the usual. How about you? How are things with you?” He was looking as dapper as ever. I don’t think he could ever have looked bad, even if he tried. Should I ask about his wife?

  “I’m good. Just busy, busy, busy. You know how it goes. Well I haven’t seen you in forever, thanks for coming to meet up with me here on such short notice.”

  “Oh, anytime.” Literally, anytime, I thought to myself. “So, what’s on your mind? Things okay on the home front?” Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have asked that.

  “Well, not really,” he said.

  Score!

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to bounce my thoughts off you. You know, you and Amy are so close, I guess I just wanted to get some advice from someone other than my regular group of friends.”

  Robert’s office was literally only a couple of blocks away. He probably did a short brisk walk to the hotel lobby. “I’m all ears,” I said with a smile on my face.

  “Great, shall we eat?”

  He was carefully eying me up and down. I certainly had painstakingly chosen the outfit I had on to not look like I was trying too hard, but also not to look like I didn’t care how I looked around him. It seemed to pay off, because I certainly had his attention.

  “Lets,” I said.

  3

  There’s something about having a meal with a rich and powerful man, that’s just exhilarating. We were seated in a posh wood-lined room with grand coffered ceilings, and exquisite crown molding details. The pass-through kitchen was visible in the far corner of the room, which also sported a rich mahogany wood-lined bar with one of those gold footrests along the bottom – it was to die for. I guess you could say that I’ve always been a fan of fancy things, since I could remember. When I was a little girl I used to dream of being a princess, and being dotted upon by men, showered with gifts, and whisked away to exotic private islands. It’s probably what most women secretly wish for, but in my case, I certainly used my “skills,” to get what I want.

  The swanky hotel restaurant was packed full of people. It was the high-powered lunch in overdrive. The waiter handed us the menus at the intimate table, which was perfectly dressed with a luxurious table curtain and gleaming silverware. We were seated across from one another in the far corner of the room, and even though the restaurant was teeming with people, they made an exception for Robert Dorning. This was, after all, Mr. Robert Dorning, from Dorning Capital, a Fortune 1000 company. And being the CEO of a Fortune 1000 company certainly had its privileges, like getting a seat at one of the swankiest restaurant in town just by showing up.

  “This is nice,” I said. “I haven’t eaten here in ages.” It was true. The last time I had eaten there was a couple of years back, with an older gentlemen, which didn’t have quite the warm welcoming and reception as this rendezvous had thus far.

  “Glad you like it. I love this place. Amy and I used to come here all the time.”

  “All the time? Not anymore?”

  “No, it’s been months now,” he said.

  I was watching his body language the whole time, and his facial expressions to see if he was being honest or not. It was a little bit like second nature to me. I could tell whether someone was being honest just solely based on their body language. For example, when they look to the left, they access the right part of their brain – the creative part – meaning that they’re usually lying. When they look to the right, they’re usually being honest.

  Then there are loads more indicators such as whether a person that’s smiling is telling the truth, because really good liars can smile while they lie, and be very believable. It’s all in a person’s eyes. You can tell if the smile is genuine by looking at the wrinkles that occur next to someone’s eyes when they are genuinely smiling. The muscle in the face is called the orbicularis oculi, which surrounds the eyes and it contracts when someone is genuinely smiling, and not just politely smiling.

  “Well, I’m happy that we’re here now. It’s good to see you again. God, it’s been ages since we’ve had any time alone.” Now I was going to watch for the smile, and whether or not it was a genuine smile.

  “I’m happy to be here with you too,” he said. It was a genuine smile.

  “So, what’s on your mind?” I asked.

  “There’s something that I wanted to talk to you about. It’s about Amy and I. I guess I need some advice.”

  Marital problems? How perfect. “What seems to be the problem?” I asked. I played coy, like I wasn’t completely ecstatic that there was a rift forming. But why would Amy hide it from me? If she considered me her best friend, it didn’t make sense that she wouldn’t talk to me about it.

  “Well, as you know, Amy has a bit of a jealously problem.”

  “Jealousy?” Who was I kidding, she was my best friend, but I don’t think she would have trusted her husband with any woman, including myself.

  “Yes. She tends to go a little bit overboard with it at times. And, when she does, there’s absolutely no reasoning with her. It’s almost as if I’m dealing with an entirely different person sometimes. Especially when she’s drinking.” He looked down at his menu after he said it, as
if somewhat embarrassed for allowing the words to come out of his mouth. But he looked fairly relieved that he was speaking to someone about it.

  “Yes, I’ve seen some of the tantrums. I think I know exactly what you’re talking about it.” I surveyed the menu for a minute as the waiter poured two glasses of sparkling water.

  “Can I start you two off with a cocktail?” The waiter wasn’t even looking at me. He was looking at Robert. Clearly, he was the VIP in the room.

  “Yes, bring me my usual,” he said.

  “And for you miss?”

  “I’ll have what he’s having,” I said. And that was one of the best ways to increase propinquity. By having the same tastes and likes, you automatically increase propinquity in the person you’re interested in. Of course, whatever was dropped in front of me, I was going to love.

  I looked back down at the menu. “What should we eat?”

  “I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I’m starving.”

  “Me too.” I smiled, and I would have thought it was quite a genuine smile. I was pretty happy to be there with him.

  “I’m tired of having the same things,” he said to the waiter, who had now returned with the drinks. “Tell the chef to whip us up something special.”

  “Right away, Mr. Dorning.” The waiter rushed off on his special mission to please the powerful and sexy, Mr. Robert Dorning. Oh, what I would have done just to tear his clothes off right then and there at that table.

  “Something special?” I asked, as I smiled at him again.

  “They know me here.” He smiled back. It was genuine.

  “Looks like it,” I said.

  The waiter dropped off the two drinks – scotch on the rocks.

  “Well, shall we do a toast?”

  I picked up my glass, and raised it closer to his. “Yes, what should we toast to?”

  “To new beginnings,” he said. This time, it was more of a devilish smile.

  “I’ll cheers to that.” I carefully sipped the drink and was pleasantly surprised at its contents. “Wow. Smooth.”

  “Blue label. Are you a fan of scotch?” he quizzically looked at me.

  “Absolutely. One of my top three favorite drinks.” I thought that was a pretty good response considering it wasn’t a full outright lie. And of course, it was Blue Label, I thought. Now, even though I was more a fan of vodka, than I was scotch, I wasn’t about to make that apparent. I lovingly sipped every last drop of that drink.

  After we were a few drinks deep, Robert began opening up about his relationship to me. I heard things that I would have never guessed were going on behind closed doors, because I only ever saw the “perfect” side of marital bliss from Amy.

  “And this plate here, is a Chilean Sea Bass, served with a slow-roast sweet potato mash, and truffle sauce,” said the waiter as he dropped off the main course, after several plates of appetizers.

  “Wow,” I said, staring at the plate. “This looks amazing.”

  “Chef Pierre does wonders here. The food is exquisite, isn’t it?”

  I smiled as I carefully placed a tender fork-filled morsel into my mouth. “Mmm,” I said. I had to close my eyes for a moment to savor the explosion of flavors in my mouth. As I opened them back up, he was staring intently at me. I had him hooked.

  Robert Dorning was four drinks in, and it was starting to show. He was starting to loosen up, and I could feel the flirting coming on pretty strong at this point. I had to think whether or not I wanted to reel him in, or string him along for a little while longer. Either way, he was going to be mine. It was just a matter of time. Then, I felt his foot touch mine. He made it out to be an accident, but I knew exactly what he was doing.

  “Sorry, about that. Didn’t realize your toe was there. I thought it was the table leg.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” I replied. He wasn’t sorry. “I’m really sorry about you, and Amy. I mean, if there’s anything that I can do to, you can always let me know. I’m here for you guys.” That was a lie.

  Just as we were finishing up the main course, desert was dropped in front of us. Wow. It was a heavenly slice of chocolate ganache cake with a rich cocoa butter cream. Calories! “Oh wow, this is too much. I don’t know if I can.”

  “We can share,” he said, cutting me off.

  “Share?” I played coy.

  “Yeah, I don’t usually splurge for desert either, but I might need the food in me to counterbalance some of this booze. I think I’m feeling a little drunk.”

  It was okay for someone like Robert Dorning to be drunk in the middle of the day. He was at the helm of a Fortune 1000 company, with no one to answer to. “Easy for you,” I said.

  “Well, excuse me,” he said, “aren’t you in the same boat?” He smiled.

  “I guess.” I smiled back.

  “Miss Sara Beckett, writer extraordinaire. Where do you get all these ideas for the books you write?”

  “I suppose they just come to me,” I smiled again. I couldn’t stop smiling at him. Maybe it was the booze, but I was definitely feeling a serious level of attraction. And as much as I wanted to tear his clothes off right then and there, I hesitated with the thought for a moment. What about Amy?

  “Right. Well, the last one Amy read, I couldn’t tear her away from for nearly two days. I don’t think she did anything but read your book.”

  “That’s funny, she never told me she read them, or that she enjoyed my books.” I looked at him with this funny look. It was true, every time I asked her if she had picked up one of my books, she would tell me she promised to, but kept never getting around to it.

  “Well, she raves about them to me, all the time. She’s read every single last book that you write,” he said.

  Now I was starting to feel bad. All this time I thought she never really cared enough to read my work. Meanwhile, she’s been gobbling them up and keeping it some sort of weird little secret. “That’s so strange. Why wouldn’t she say anything to me?” I was drunk by now, and trying my best not to slur my words, and trying to keep my composure, but he was sitting just inches from me, and I wanted him so bad. It was pretty clear he wanted me, too.

  “That’s not strange. That’s, Amy.”

  The sixth Blue Label on the rocks was dropped in front of him. “Here you go, Mr. Dorning,” said the waiter.

  I wasn’t about to tell him to pace himself, but he definitely needed to pace himself. But then again, it was the perfect excuse to bed him – he was too intoxicated to think straight. But was he really?

  “What do you say we head upstairs?” he quipped.

  “Upstairs?” I was playing coy again.

  “Yes, upstairs,” he looked at me like he was going to devour me right there.

  “Sure, where are we going?”

  “Somewhere with a little bit more privacy.”

  It was as if I was looking the devil in the eyes. I didn’t think my plan would work out this well, but it really was going according to plan. Although something was tugging at my heartstrings, the thought of pressing his hard body up against mine sent me into a wet-dreamed fantasy world.

  “Sure,” I said.

  4

  On the 78th floor, Robert Dorning opened the door to the presidential suite of the hotel. Shock. Awe. Stunning, sweeping views of the Manhattan Skyline and Hudson River welcomed us in the entry. The soaring, two-story presidential suite was lined with ceiling to floor glass windows. It was captivating. No, it was breathtaking. In fact, I’m not usually very impressed, and although I’ve been a guest to some of their very lavish parties, this takes the cake.

  “What do you think?” Now he was the one being coy.

  I smiled. “Well, it’s okay, I suppose, if you’re into this sort of thing,” I said in return, throwing him a devilish grin. As I walked through the grand entrance into the suite, I was blown away by the decor and sweeping views. For the first time, in a long time, I was actually speechless.

  “Yeah, you’re right. It’s okay.” He laugh
ed to himself.

  I was still enamored by the place. I clicked along the marble entryway, made my way across the expansive carpet in the living area, then to the soaring glass windows. Next to me, there was a black grand piano that had been situated adjacent to a very large, all glass and steel, spiral staircase. “Wow.” Okay, I was impressed. I guess I should let him witness it a bit.

  “That’s more like it.” He threw his suit jacket on the couch as he drew closer to me, where I was still standing in complete awe of the city beneath. From that high, the people just looked like little ants, scurrying about their days, moving from one point to another. I could feel him eyeing me up and down, and in my present state of intoxication, I was certainly not going to dissuade him from doing so. I could see a partial reflection of him through the soaring glass windows as he approached me, getting closer, and closer. I could almost feel him breathing on me now.

  But he just stood there for a moment, eyeing me up and down. I was busy taking in the expanse of the city when he pressed up against me, almost in an instant. He placed his hands on the glass windows spread far apart as he nestled his head into my neck, and pressed his hard member firmly against me. I shuddered and trembled at the mere act of having him so close to me.

  I moaned a little.

  “Some view isn’t it?” he asked while still pressed firmly up against me.