Learning to Trust

by Cynthia P. O'Neill

  His hands moved up the length of the corset and onto my arms, pushing them down. “Turn around. I’m going to lift you onto the counter, but you are to keep your eyes closed.”

  I did as instructed and before long my butt met with the coolness of the marble countertop. Garrett slid in between my legs, lifting one up, and I felt the silk cascade along my toes, ankle, and then up my right thigh, before being secured by the garters. He repeated the process with the other leg, a low growl forming in his throat. “Do you have any idea how sexy you look at this moment, Laurel?”

  I shook my head in response. To me, I’d always looked average. I had tried to dress a little nicer and flirtatious when I reached college, but Chase’s words still rang loud and clear in my head, “You dress like you want it!”

  My walls had been built to block out the hurt and keep the nightmares of Chase at bay. I couldn’t believe how easily I was allowing Garrett to try and take them down, but how far was I willing to let the walls crumble? I still didn’t know. I could only take the advice of my friends and make the effort to learn to trust again, hoping I didn’t get burned or hurt even worse in the process.

  Garrett’s breath washed over my face as his lips gently sought out mine, brushing over them gently, teasing and whispering against my neck. “God, you look so fucking beautiful, babe. Knowing you have this on underneath your dress is going to keep me rock hard all night.” He took my hand and placed it along his length, sans boxers. “Feel me,” he moaned.

  It began to twitch at my touch, making me realize he was just as needy. His teeth nipped at my lower lip, forcing me to part them, and his tongue rushed in to claim my mouth. One hand fisted at the base of my neck, drawing me closer, while the other traveled the length of my thigh, grazing over my mound. One finger pushed my folds apart and worked my clit before it traveled down to my core and plunged inside.

  “You’re so wet for me, babe,” he whispered and pushed another finger inside me, while his thumb began to rub circles over my clit.

  My mind was a mess. I was strung so tight that I needed some form of release. Soon. Now. All I could manage to squeak out was, “Please.”

  “Please what, darling?”

  “Take me, Garrett.” My hips began to move of their own accord on his hand, trying to find the release my body so desperately needed.

  A low groan formed in the back of his throat as he lifted me off the counter and spun me around, stretching my legs wide in the process. He leaned in close to my back, one hand reaching around to cup my breast as the other moved down to finger my clit and whispered, “Open your eyes and tell me what you see now”

  I was on edge, not understanding why we were doing all this. But I acquiesced and saw something I didn’t recognize. Instead of a plain Jane version of myself, I found a voluptuous vixen with just the right curves, cleavage, and sexiness. This couldn’t be me...could it? “I look stunning.”

  Garrett’s cock stirred against my backside. “Now you see what I have the pleasure of viewing and now you can understand why I want to claim you; why I need to be inside you.”

  His words melted the last of my resistance and I found myself bent over about to be taken from behind in my bathroom. “Watch the mirrors, Laurel,” he instructed. “I want you to see how well our bodies fit together.”

  Before he could do anything, his phone went off with a recognizable ringtone belonging to Thompson. “Fuck,” he grunted as he huffed off to the bedroom to retrieve his phone.

  “This had better be good,” he barked, his tone uncharacteristically harsh.

  A few moments passed before Garrett re-entered the bathroom. His hands wrapped around me, drawing me close as his lips descended on my neck, where he sucked and licked his way up towards my ear. “I’m sorry, darling, but we need to get dressed; Thompson will be picking us up at the front entrance in ten minutes. I would say let’s finish what we started, because I so fucking want you, but I have to be there on time to give a speech for Mr. Waters.”

  I let out a sigh and decided to be a little coy with him. I looked up into his eyes, smiling. “There’s always later,” I said, arching my eyebrows, which resulted in an immediate smile on his part.

  He leaned in, nipping at my lower lip. “Damn straight,” he groaned before plunging in for a teasing kiss. He pulled back reluctantly. “Later, my love,” he reminded me with one last kiss.

  Garrett quickly dressed in a classic black and white tuxedo, while I inched my way into the black evening gown. His eyes were dark with desire as I shimmied myself into the tight bodice of the dress.

  “Could you help me with the zipper?”

  He stood behind me, a low growl coming from his throat. “I would rather be unzipping this.” A gentle kiss landed beneath my earlobe, making my body heat spike.

  As I bent for my shoes, I felt him try to stifle a moan.

  “You look absolutely ravishing, my dear. You need to stop teasing me, though.”

  I shook my head in denial. He silenced my rebuttal by grabbing my hand and placing it against his crotch, where his shaft was stretching angrily against the material of his pants. “Let’s say I don’t plan on sticking around the full length of this event. There’s only so much ‘pressure’ a man can take.” His mouth curved up in a devilish line as his eyebrows twitched with the promise of seduction.

  Thompson was waiting for us at the curb with a huge, SUV-style stretch limo. It looked to be a Lincoln MKX, altered and stretched. Garrett’s hand landed on the curve of my back, guiding me towards the back passenger door.

  When I stepped inside, I felt I had been transported to another world. To say the limo was fully loaded would be an understatement. There was a plush, regular-sized seat at the back, with two longer rows of seating on each side. A mini-bar complete with a small fridge and ample glassware sat behind the driver’s seat. A privacy screen separated the front from the back, along with a drop-down video monitor, a couple of phones, and multiple computer hookups. This was definitely opulence on wheels.

  I guess Garrett could see my surprise. “Do you like the limo, Laurel?”

  “It’s amazing. I’ve only seen limos at a couple of weddings, but never been inside one before. Is this a rental?” He couldn’t possibly own such a luxury working in Human Resources. Was he trying to impress me?

  We both took seats on the back bench, where he pulled me close before strapping me into my seatbelt and taking hold of my hand in his. “No, this belongs to Mr. Waters. You didn’t see it in the garage because of its size. It’s stored in a protective storage facility; he only uses it on occasions like tonight. Since he couldn’t be here, he felt we should still present the best possible image for the company.”

  I could see where this kind of logic made sense. A CEO would definitely want the person representing his company to do so with a bit of panache.

  The ride was quick, only lasting maybe ten minutes. There were crowds of people gathered around outside the luxury hotel, along with some news crews and photographers. I began to panic wondering why this event was so publicized.

  I looked over to Garret and before I could even get the word “why?” out of my mouth, he seemed to know what I was asking.

  “Don’t be too alarmed. This is an event that draws out some of the local celebrities. The news tries to get pictures of everyone from film to sports to business. It will probably have a good write up in tomorrow’s entertainment section of the paper. It’s good for business, that’s why Mr. Waters wanted us here representing the company, since we’re trying to make strides in creating new technology for diabetics. Plus, we have a check to contribute in the company’s name.”

  His words instantly calmed my fears and I felt him undoing my seatbelt. As soon as Thompson opened the door, Garrett slipped his fingers through mine, offering me assistance out of the limo.

  Once on solid ground, he wrapped his arm around me, drawing me into his side as cameras began clicking away. “Just smile at the camera and act like you’re happy to
be here,” he whispered in my ear.

  I nodded and began to smile as he waved to the crowd and proceeded to guide us forward toward the entrance.

  “Mr. Andrews! Mr. Andrews!” a reporter continued to call from the crowd, causing Garrett to pause and look his direction.

  “Is Mr. Waters not attending tonight?” the reporter asked.

  Garrett put on what I assumed to be a business face, before answering. “I’m afraid Mr. Waters was called out of town on business. He has asked me to represent him in tonight’s festivities.”

  We were then moved quickly through the doors, where I entered a scene that had to be fresh out of a movie. There were servers, dressed in black and white, carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne, milling around the guests. Men in crisp tuxedos and women in long, sparkly dresses and impossibly high heels were everywhere.

  There was a long table off to the side with various items on display. There were clipboards in front of them and people lining up to write down information. “What’s going on over there?”

  “That’s the silent auction table. Guests are making bids towards winning items various vendors have contributed to the events this evening. Proceeds from the auction will go to support the Diabetes Foundation.” He leaned in closer to whisper, “We have arrived during the cocktail hour. They’ll move this along into the ballroom shortly, where the events of the evening will proceed. While I’d love to keep us wrapped up in our own bubble, I’m afraid I have to do some mingling later this evening on behalf of the company.”

  I smiled. “I don’t mind. It will be good to see who Mr. Waters conducts business with.”

  He pressed a chaste kiss to my lips. “I am in awe over the way you think.”

  “Garrett!” I heard his name called as both of us looked in the same direction to see a woman in her mid-fifties waving his direction.

  He guided us over to the woman and her male companion. The woman’s ash blonde hair was in a lovely chignon and she was wearing a stunning black and white gown that sparkled everywhere. The gentleman beside her was maybe a few years older than her, with short silver hair and the same traditional-style tux as Garrett. He looked at them and then back at me before introducing us. “Dr. and Mrs. Waters, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Laurel Hart, one of our newest engineers for Bio-Medical Life Solutions; she will also lend her expertise at the training center.”

  I felt Garrett’s hand tense on my back during the introduction and looked up to catch some sort of silent message being passed between himself and the couple; I couldn’t help wondering what was going on. I suddenly realized he had introduced them as Waters. “Are you both related to Mr. Waters, the CEO of the company?” I had to ask to satisfy my inquisitive mind.

  Mrs. Waters smiled gently then grabbed hold of my hand and drew me into a surprise embrace. “Yes, dear. We’re Mr. Waters’ parents. It’s so wonderful to see Garrett here with someone so lovely.”

  I blushed at her kind words. “Thank you, Mrs. Waters. Or should I call you ‘Your Honor’? I read online that you’re a judge.”

  “No need to be so formal, Laurel. Please, feel free to call me Olivia. Garrett is well known with our family and we only talk on a first name basis,” she said, finally releasing me.

  Wow, Mr. Waters’ mother is exceptionally friendly to the employees. I wonder if she treats everyone with such enthusiasm…

  Olivia turned her attention to Garrett and stepped away to talk with him privately, with what I assumed was business in regards to her son.

  Dr. Waters seized the opportunity and stepped forward, taking my hand in both of his and smiling as though he’d won the lottery. “I’ve never seen Garrett bring someone to one of these functions. You must really mean something to him to be here. I hope we’ll get to learn more about you, Laurel.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Waters. I’m honored to be here.”

  He shook his head slightly. “No need for formalities, please call me Harris.” He paused a minute. “So, when and where did you get your degree from, Laurel?”

  “I just graduated from MIT this past week with a degree in Bio-Medical Engineering. Mr. Andrews seemed quite fascinated with my senior project and offered to interview me for a position.”

  Harris nodded. “Hmm…I see. If you don’t mind me asking, what was your project on?”

  If there was one thing I felt comfortable talking about, it was engineering and science, especially my project. “I wanted to rework the functionality of the prosthetic wrist and fingers, offering more mobility and strength within the joints.”

  “Were you able to achieve the results you wanted?”

  My face must have split in two over being asked to elaborate. “I believe so. The current models all have limited movements requiring the person to shift their body or arm to make the adjustments, whereas my project allows the person to keep still and let the prosthetic do most of the work for them. However, the true measure of success is if it passes my cousin’s test.”

  His face looked a bit puzzled. “Why does it need to pass your cousin’s test? You have me curious.”

  I realized I hadn’t fully explained myself. “I’m sorry, I forget that not everyone has read my paper; I’m so used to presenting at school,” I laughed. “My cousin, Grace, was in a horrible car accident that forced her to lose her hand and a portion of her forearm. She has grown and adapted to her circumstances over the years, becoming fully-functional in all aspects of life, but wishes she had more range of motion, especially the ability to cook and participate in sports like she used to. I decided to try and help her reach her goals by redesigning the prosthetic with her in mind. If she can do the things that she’s currently limited with, then it will be a success.”

  Harris’s face lit up with a warm smile. “It sounds like you’re a very inventive and determined young lady. I look forward to seeing what you develop for my son’s company. So you’ll be working for both Bio-Medical and the training center?”

  As he was talking, I glanced over to see Olivia embrace Garrett in a deep hug and give him a firm kiss on the cheek. They looked over my direction and smiled as they continued talking. I realized I still needed to answer Harris’s question.

  “That’s correct, sir. Mr. Andrews felt that my knowledge of engineering would be useful for the Bio-Medical aspects; however, he didn’t want to waste my knowledge of kinesiology. He would like to see if there are any machines that could either be utilized or developed to help increase a professional athlete’s performance and help rehabilitate those athletes trying to come back from injury.”

  I could feel the pulsing charge from Garrett even before his arm circled my waist. “Is Dr. Waters talking your ear off, Laurel?”

  Harris noted where Garrett’s arm was located and seemed to smile for a moment. He ended up speaking for the both of us. “This intelligent young lady was enlightening me as to how you two met and the works of her senior project, which I must say sounds quite impressive. You may want to show her what my son has done with technology in the operating room.” He focused his next line directly at me. “I wouldn’t be able to perform some of the surgeries I do today if my son hadn’t developed the technology that allows us to do things never before thought possible. Maybe you might have some insights on improving some of his equipment.”

  I blushed from his compliment.

  Garrett pulled me closer to him in reassurance. “She hasn’t even started work, Dr. Waters. We need to let Laurel get used to her position before we try throwing new ideas and technology at her. I do agree that she definitely has the potential to design most anything.”

  The Master of Ceremonies interrupted our conversation and announced that all the guests had arrived and the food was ready to be served.

  Garrett let Harris and Olivia lead us into the ballroom, where we sat at their table, off to the side of a stage, along with two other couples. Olivia introduced a young lady with strawberry blonde hair as her daughter, Sandra Waters, an architect in a major design f
irm, and her date, Kenneth. She then introduced me to her son, a man with auburn hair and a short beard, Jonathan Waters, a chef who owns his own restaurant, and his date, Heather.

  Harris spoke up. “Our other daughter, Tiffany, is studying art abroad in Italy. Maybe we’ll have the pleasure of seeing you again and you can meet her sometime when she’s home visiting.”

  I could understand the introductions at the table because it would be polite to know the names of the people I was seated with. However, I couldn’t fathom why Harris wanted me to meet his other daughter. It wasn’t like I would be seeing their family anytime soon. Though I guess it was nice to have a few friendly faces here in my new town.

  “That would be lovely, sir.”

  Dinner was the best meal I’ve eaten to date. Apparently the planners of these galas go all out on menu selection. We started off with a strawberry champagne soup, followed with a small, two-bite appetizer pâté, then a petite Parisian salad, a small round of filet mignon, a sliver of orange glazed sea bass, sautéed green beans, and for dessert, the promise of a chocolate mousse with a raspberry sauce, after the presentations.

  Along with all the meals were glasses of various wines, ranging from dry whites to sweet ports. Garrett only allowed me a sip of each to taste its quality with the meal. I noticed Sandra only tasted a few of her wines, mostly preferring water, too.

  Jonathan spoke up, questioning Garrett. “Why don’t you let her finish her wine?” Then he winked at me, like he was doing me a favor.

  “I’m just looking out for her, Jonathan. She was recently diagnosed with hypoglycemia and her sugars aren’t yet balanced.”

  Everyone seemed to shift in their seats and looked our direction.

  “Good for you, Garrett,” Sandra commended, raising her water glass in salute to his efforts. Then she turned towards me. “I’m just the opposite. I have hyperglycemia, but I can’t touch the stuff, either,” she confided in hushed solidarity. “It makes my sugars plummet with the medication I take. I can only imagine what it does to yours.”