by Jessica Wood
I looked him in surprise.
“You have to know that, right?” he asked with amusement.
“Well. I guess… I don’t know what to say. Thank you?” I said, feeling unsure of myself. Oh my God, Emma. Thank you? Did you just thank him?
“No need to say a thing,” he said as he pulled me closer to him. “Do you know what’s strange?” he began.
I looked up at him. “What?”
“There’s something about you that pulls me in. I can’t explain it, but I feel connected to you somehow. Does that make sense?” He looked at me with emotion in his eyes.
“Yes, actually, it does. I feel the same way,” I said as I felt a warm intensity spread through me. I realized that I had never felt like this with anyone else. “It feels like there’s electricity whenever you touch me,” I admitted softly.
He took my hand and intertwined it with his. The soft playfulness of his fingers against my hand left tingles of electricity at their wake. My body came alive with anticipation. His fingers trailed lightly along my arms, causing my skin to prickle with excitement. I let out a sigh of contentment.
“Emma, you’re so beautiful,” he said as his fingers gently caressed my cheeks. He then pulled my face into his, and I felt his lips meet mine.
His lips were amazing—soft, full, and delicious. His kiss was sweet, sensual, and slow. My lips quivered as I felt his tongue gently part my lips. His tongue was luscious and enticing as it explored every inch of my lips, mouth, and tongue.
As his lips left mine, I let out an uncontrollable moan.
He smiled at me with tenderness and want. “God, Emma, you’re killing me.”
“Well, don’t stop kissing me then,” I said seductively.
“We’ve had a lot to drink, and I want to just enjoy this moment with you and take things slow,” he said with a reluctant tone in his voice.
“Well, let’s have another glass of champagne then. Maybe you’ll change your mind,” I teased as I got off of the bed and reached for the champagne bottle.
He laughed as I filled his glass and my own.
“Let’s watch the rest of the sunset before we miss it all,” he said.
“Okay,” I agreed with a tinge of disappointment and quickly finished my third glass.
I sat down next to him and he pulled me closer as we lay back against the pillows. The sunset was stunning, and at that moment, I was mesmerized by it.
I let out a deep, long sigh as I sank deeper into Brandon’s arms. This is just crazy. How did I get here? I was just dreaming about this man last week, and now, here he is—here we are, together. His name is Brandon. Brandon and Emma. I allowed my thoughts to drift as I imagined our lives together.
As I laid my head in his chest, I could hear the gentle thumping of his heart and the even sounds of his breathing. We lay there in comfortable silence for a long time, and I felt relaxed in his presence.
After some time, I gently moved my fingers up and down his toned arm and muscular chest. I heard his heartbeat increase, and his breathing became more jagged.
I looked up at him and saw pure desire and want in his eyes. A rush of need flooded deep inside me.
“Your eyes are gorgeous,” he said breathlessly. “Do you know how breathtakingly beautiful you are right now?”
“I don’t, but you can show me,” I said seductively as I got on top of him and slowly started to unbutton his shirt.
“Emma, are you sure?” he said with hesitation. “I want you to be sure.”
“Yes, Brandon. I’m sure,” I said as I unbuttoned the last button on his shirt and tried to remove it from him.
He pulled me down toward him and our lips met. His hands moved through my hair and down my back. Then, in one swift movement, he grabbed me and flipped me on my back. He was on top of me now, and I watched with awe as he removed his shirt from his body. He was perfect—tan, muscular, smooth, and perfect.
He leaned down and kissed me again. At first he was slow and gentle, but then his lips moved with urgency and passion as his tongue consumed my mouth and fueled the fire that grew at the pit of my stomach.
His lips then left mine as he slowly and passionately kissed the pressure zones on my neck and behind my ears. I heard myself whimper as his lips left a trial of goose bumps at their touch.
I felt my hands all over his body, and I inhaled sharply when my hands found his hardness pushing against his pants.
“You’re driving me crazy. I need you out of your dress now or I’m going to explode.” His voice was ragged.
I nodded wildly in agreement. “Please,” I begged. He unzipped my dress and bra from behind me and quickly pulled them off me. He then paused and looked at me with longing.
“You are so hot, Emma.” His voice was raw with lust as his mouth hungrily enveloped one of my breast while his hand urgently kneaded the other. I moaned with pleasure as my back arched up against his body. In response, he pushed his lower body down on top of me as he moved his hardness against my body. Through his pants and the thin layer of my panties, I could feel his long and hard manhood grind down against me, and I gasped with pleasure.
“Oh, Brandon, I need you now,” I moaned in desperation as my hands explored the contours of his broad, muscular back.
As he continued to kiss and knead my breasts, his other hand traced its way down below to the heat emanating from the inside of my panties. He rubbed his fingers up and down my panties, and I convulsed with pleasure.
“Brandon—Brandon, take off your pants. I can’t wait any longer,” I begged.
“Not yet. I want to taste you first.” His voice was deep and raw.
He moved his fingers under my panties and found me—hot, wet, and in need.
“My God, Emma, you’re driving me crazy. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
“Don’t wait—now, please,” I begged again. I felt him remove my panties, my back arching up uncontrollably, needing to be connected to him.
I suddenly gasped violently as I felt his lips explore the place my panties had been seconds before. Then his tongue started doing unimaginable things to me, and as it explored deeper and deeper inside me, my body convulsed as waves of pleasure greeted me.
Then he emerged from me and I looked into his eye—they were full of fire and hunger. “You taste amazing. If I wait any longer, I’ll explode,” he said hoarsely as he took off his pants and boxers.
My breath caught as I finally saw him for the first time—long, smooth, and hard. My body burned with anticipation as he got on top of me. Our mouths locked in another passionate kiss, and I rocked my hips against his erection, desperate for him to be inside me.
“God, Emma, you’re going to push me over the edge,” Brandon groaned as his head jerked violently back when I arched my hips up against him.
“Then stop making me beg for you. I need you now,” I said urgently.
And with that, he passionately kissed me again, looked deep into my eyes, and then entered me with complete abandonment.
I gasped as my body instinctually arched up to meet him. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed into me as he moved rhythmically in and out of me, each time, more rapid and deeper than before.
“You feel incredible,” he said in pleasure. I tried to respond to tell him how amazing he was, but I could not get the words out.
After several long, excruciating minutes of pleasure I had never felt before, spasms of ecstasy rippled throughout my entire body as I went over the cliff into ecstasy.
Moments later, I felt Brandon’s body stiffen. His head jerked violently as he let out a loud groan of pleasure and I felt him explode inside of me. Another ripple of pleasure greeted me as he collapsed on top of me, our bodies connected to one another as we passed out into a deep sleep.
***
My eyes fluttered open, and I felt the soft, cool sheets over my body. I slowly took in my surroundings and realized that I was in a luxurious hotel room I didn’t recognize. I sat up quickly and immediately
regretted my rash movement—my head was pounding with pain and the room spun around me. Slowly, the memories from last night seeped into my consciousness.
Brandon—my thoughts instantly jumped to him. Am I in his bed?
I looked over, and an overwhelming feeling of happiness consumed me as I saw him there, sleeping beside me. God, he’s even gorgeous in the mornings.
I glanced around the room and saw my dress and bra lying neatly over the couch nearby, and I looked down at my body. I was wearing a t-shirt along with my panties. He must have carried me up here after the sunset—and the amazing sex, I thought.
I turned toward him, leaned over, and lightly kissed him on the forehead. He shifted slightly. He was shirtless, and I could see his smooth, toned chest and his muscular arms above the sheets.
Impulsively, I peeked under the sheets, hoping to see more of his naked body. Damn, he had his boxers on! I giggled at myself for being so silly.
I looked around the room again and my eyes noticed the clock on the wall—7:30 a.m. Shit, shit, shit! I thought as panic set in. The girls! They must be worried sick about me! Our cab to the airport leaves in less than an hour! Jill has probably called the Cancun police by now. SHIT.
I got up quickly and threw on my dress. Walk of shame, here I come, I thought, knowing that my return to the hotel room with last night’s dress on will surely raise a lot of questions.
Damn it, I wish our cell phones worked down here. I don’t even know our hotel number to call them to say I’m okay.
I looked over at Brandon. He was fast asleep. I gently touched his arms and shook it. He stirred but did not wake up. I looked at the clock again and realized that I had to leave Brandon without saying goodbye or I’d miss my flight. An overwhelming feeling of loss hit me.
I looked around the hotel room, found an Omni notepad and pen, and quickly wrote a note to him.
Brandon,
I had an amazing time with you last night. You definitely made my last night in Cancun a memorable one. Thanks so much for taking care of me and showing me the amazing sunset and more. ;)
I have a flight to catch and didn’t want to wake you. But I’d love to talk to you again. My number is 310-555-1120.
XOXO,
Emma
I left the note on the end table on his side of the bed. I gently kissed his lips one last time and whispered, “Goodbye, Brandon. I hope I see you again, because I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Chapter Seven
Brandon never called.
When we first returned back to L.A., I waited with excruciating agony for the moment he would call and imagined the conversations we would have. I made sure my phone was fully charged and with me at all times, because I knew I would hate myself if I missed his call.
But after a few days of waiting for the call that never came, anxiety slowly crept in like sharp needles prickling my insides. I felt sick at the thought of never seeing him again.
Did he not see my note? Did he lose my number? Did I accidentally write down my number wrong? Or was it all a lie? Was he a lie?
During the first month after Cancun, I often cried myself to sleep, wondering what had gone wrong and why he hadn’t called. The only logical conclusion I always ended up with was that it had been a one-night-stand and I was just another notch on his belt. He must have taken many girls to that secluded canopy bed on the beach, and I was a fool to think that night meant anything more to him than sex.
Despite my best efforts, I held on to the hope that he would eventually call. The rest of my senior year went by in a haze.
When I moved to San Francisco in August, I felt emotionally drained and empty. A dull ache took permanent residence in my heart as I finally gave up the hope that he would call—that I would see him again. I gave up the hope that he might have fallen in love with me that night in Cancun, the way I had for him. And as I let go of this hope, it felt like I had lost a piece of myself—more than just my virginity—but a piece of my soul to him.
***
Six months had passed since that week in Cancun, and the ache in my heart remained.
But today would be different, I told myself.
Today, I will not let thoughts of Brandon—if that’s even his real name—ruin my mood. Not today. Today, I will be happy, because today I start a new chapter of my life, and I will forget that night in Cancun—that night to forget.
I repeated these thoughts to myself as I walked out of my studio apartment in Nob Hill.
Today was my first day of work, and for the first time in a very long time, I was filled with anticipation and excitement.
It was a cool, foggy San Francisco morning, and in the distance, I could see the Golden Gate Bridge peeking out of the fog that was rolling through the San Francisco Bay.
I inhaled the brisk morning air and started walking towards the Financial District. I wore a crisp charcoal suit over a rich green blouse. My long, dirty blond hair was tied up neatly in a bun. As my black stilettos click-clacked toward Four Embarcadero Center, which housed Fisher & Morrison Consulting, I felt ready for this new beginning.
“Good morning,” said the attractive brunette sitting at the reception desk. “How can I help you?”
“Hi, my name is Emma Anderson. Today’s my first day.” I smiled at her as excitement and anxiety coursed through me.
“Oh yes, you must be one of our first-year marketing associates.” “Here’s your orientation packet. Orientation will be held in the main conference room on this floor. Just walk around the corner and it will be the first door to your right.” She motioned behind her. “Most of your class has already arrived, so you should go on in.”
“Thank you so much. It was nice meeting you.” I quickly walked past the receptionist desk before I opened the door to the conference room.
About a dozen faces looked up at me when I walked in. I found an empty seat next to a girl about my age.
“Hi, I’m Sarah. Sarah O’Brien.” The bright-eyed girl grinned at me as we shook hands.
“Hi, Sarah. I’m Emma Anderson,” I said as I smiled back. I looked around the room. There were an equal number of men and women chatting excitedly in small groups around the conference table. “Is everyone here in our class?”
“Yup. I heard there are fifteen of us in total. What group are you in?” she asked.
“What group?”
“Yeah. In your orientation packet”—she pointed to the packet the receptionist gave me earlier—“it tells you what group you’ll be working in,” she explained. “Apparently we’ll be split up into five groups and each group will be led by one of the marketing managers. I’m in Group B,” she said enthusiastically.
“Oh, let me check.” I opened my packet and looked through the materials. “I’m in Group B, too!” I said with delight. Sarah seemed like someone I could get along with, and I was excited that she would be in my group.
“Awesome,” she said.
Just then, two people walked into the conference and the room fell silent. They sat down at the two empty chairs at the end of the conference table.
“Good morning, everyone,” said a jovial man with peppered gray hair. “My name is Joseph Fisher, and I’m the CEO and one of the founding partners of Fisher & Morrison Consulting. I want to congratulate you all on graduating this past May. You would not be sitting here before me if you had not all worked hard and excelled in college. So I want to commend you for that.” He smiled across the room. There’s something familiar about his face, I thought as I watched the man.
“Today is the start of your careers, and I am confident that you will each show the same dedication and hard work you had in college towards your work here at Fisher & Morrison,” he continued. “I want to introduce you all to Claire Wilson, the Director of Marketing for Fisher & Morrison.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fisher,” Claire said before turning to us. “Good morning, everyone,” Claire said with a stiff smile as she looked around the room. “Why don’t we go around
the room and introduce ourselves before we get started?”
It took only a few minutes for the fifteen of us to introduce ourselves to the group.
“Ms. Wilson will be running the orientation today,” Mr. Fisher said as he got up. “It was very nice meeting you all, and I look forward to working with everyone soon.” Mr. Fisher smiled again, and this time, I could see a dimple appear on his aged face. He must have been a handsome man when he was younger, I thought.
After Mr. Fisher left, Ms. Wilson went over office protocol and rules for the rest of the morning. At noon, lunch was brought into the conference room and we took a thirty-minute break.
As we ate our lunches, the guy from across the table from Sarah and me looked over at us.
“Hi, I’m Josh,” a guy with blond hair and blue eyes said as he extended his hand over the table toward me.
“Hi, I’m Emma,” I said with a smile, “and this is Sarah.” I gestured at Sarah.
“Hi, Sarah,” Josh said as they shook hands.
“So not that I was eavesdropping or anything earlier,” Josh said sheepishly, “but I heard you guys say that you’re both in Group B. So am I.”
“Great,” Sarah said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “I wonder which marketing manager is going to be our group leader.”
“I heard Group B will be led by the son of the CEO who was here this morning, Joseph Fisher,” Josh said.
“Oh really?” Sarah’s voice went up an octave and a group of people chatting nearby looked over at us. “Oh really?” Sarah said again in a softer voice as she looked around with an apologetic expression on her face.
“Yup,” Josh said with a nod. “I don’t know anything about the guy though.”
“I do,” Sarah said and her face turned bright red.
“What do you know about him?” My curiosity was piqued.
Sarah quickly glanced at Josh and shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I had heard that he’s really attractive, and well…I Googled him,” Sarah said, her last few words barely audible.
“Oh man, you stalked our group leader?” Josh said with a laugh. “That’s hilarious.”